Looking down you see two wrinkled, middle-aged hands and a set of sagging breasts beneath a worn laced frock. Everything feels slightly awkward, like your body doesn't quite fit you. Glancing up you notice the perky waitress looking at you with her saucepan sized eyes. Across the way, your father sits, good naturedly checking through the menu once again.
"Nothing else", you manage to rasp out, finding it difficult to get the words out. As you adjust in your seat, uncomfortable wearing a dress for the first time, shivers of icy cold pain jet up and down your spinal chord. The movement is enough to make you nauseous.
"Honey, is everything alright?" Your father looks up at you with expectant brown eyes, deeply set with a concern that trails through dark circles and up towards the edges of his kindly face. Squeezing the napkin tightly in your hand to diffuse the pain, you reply as best you can with, "Everything is fine.”
It has only been a few moments in your mother's body, and already you're counting the clock ticks. Why hasn't the server brought your food yet? Why is the baby in the next booth tapping her knife so loudly? What the heck is with that awful music playing?! Everything seems louder and more intense, and each movement comes with a twinge of pain.
"Candice, I think you should wash your hands before we eat don't you?"
With a complacent nod, your sister shuffles out from the booth and heads off towards the restroom.
"It's getting worse honey, isn't it? Here, take these pills the doctor prescribed... I know it's a bit early, but maybe they'll help."
Pills? Doctor? Nobody had bothered to tell you about this. Reaching reticently into your mother's handbag, you intend to fumble around until you find something. It doesn't take long to find the large bottle of horse pills lying snugly at the bottom of the bag.
"How many should I take?” you ask nervously, trying your best to open the child safety cap. The more you struggle, the more pain you are in, and the frustration is starting to build up.
"Now now, dear. You know that when you're aggravated it makes it worse. Let me help you."
With practiced ease, he unscrews the cap and hands you two large blue and white pills. He hands them to you gently.
"Well, hurry up and take them before Candice gets back. We shouldn't let the kids worry about your condition. But I think we may have to head back to the hospital tonight and get some more tests done. You don't seem to be getting any better."
Gravely you put the pills in your mouth and swallow. After replacing the orange plastic cup back into your handbag, you notice that your breathing has become less labored, and the sharp pains have dulled considerably. As if on cue, Candice comes back from the washroom, painfully oblivious to anything that is going on within your body. Words can't seem to form themselves.
Over the late brunch, you keep going back and forth in your mind with questions that desperately need to be answered. How long has this been going on? Why didn't they tell us? All of a sudden, the odd behavior of your parents and your mother's abrupt attitude sharpen into focus.
The somber attitude seems to pervade the brunch. As the dishes are cleaned and you are grabbing your belongings to go, your father speaks up.
"Hey my lovely ladies, how about we go get some ice cream at Creamy's? That always makes me happy when things are down!"
Too tired and worn out to provide excuses to hamper this already dampened afternoon, you go with him to Creamy's. Still hanging on every moment, you notice that there are only 15 minutes till you change. With Creamy's relatively deserted, you relax knowing that after this you'll be back home and hopefully, next to your own body.
Unsure of what your body can handle, you order a vanilla ice cream. The young boy behind the counter, not more than eighteen gives you a nod as he hands you your cone. He is average height with a muscular build and big hands. He had on a little name tag that said "Rick". His short blond hair is spiked up, and his cool blue eyes seem to melt into you like the sun on ice caps. A flutter fills your stomach, and you're not sure if it's the medicine or ... ? You've never really been attracted to guys before, and perhaps it was because you were in your mother's body, but there was something about this boy that made your senses warm up.
Luckily, your father missed the connection, and arm in arm glided you out to the sunny patio area. Apparently, Candice's M&M milkshake would take a bit longer to make. Sitting down outside, you begin to appreciate the sweet spring air amidst the pain that still singed at the edges of your body. Rick was performing the last bits of milkshake mixing, and your father had his arm gently around your waist.
That's when it happened.
"Mom, I think I'm pregnant."
Suddenly there was a lurch, milkshake flying everywhere, and your mother's body lay unconscious in a sea of vanilla foam. Through milkshake flecked eyelashes you notice the time. It is 12:41 and...
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
