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Sophie Deems is a seventeen-year-old waitress in a small town in the middle of nowhere, just trying to get along ... or is she? A visit from a woman in a silver Aston Martin pulls her past into her present, and makes her wonder if she can ever move on — or even if she want to.
Admin Note: Originally published on BigCloset TopShelf on Sunday 02-28-2010 at 07:41:09 am, this retro classic was pulled out of the closet, and re-presented for our newer readers.
~Sephrena
“So, a hamburger, well-done, with fries, a chicken Caesar salad, and two diet Cokes, is that right?” I treated both customers to my best perky smile, and they both smiled back and nodded. “Great! I’ll be right back with your drinks.”
I spun on my toes, skirt flaring slightly, and headed to the service window to drop off my latest order. Then I went over to the bar and asked Jerry to get me two diet Cokes.
“How’re you holdin’ up, Sophie?” He looked me over with one eye while his hands worked the soda wand. I shrugged.
“It’s the same job, just more of it,” I replied. “We’re pretty much out of the lunch rush, and the table count should drop down for me soon.” I put my tray down for a second and gave a stretch, hearing my back crack in three places.
“You know what you need? A really good massage. Get all those kinks out.” He finished the second glass with a smile and put them both on my tray.
“Whose kinks would those be again?” I grinned and picked up the drink order. “Believe me, Jerry, when I feel a burning uncontrollable need to have a man’s hands all over me, I’ll know just who to call.” I leaned forward and whispered, “Nymphomaniacs Anonymous.”
He grabbed at his heart. “Oh, girl, you wound me!”
I laughed and headed back to the table with the drinks. Just as I finished putting them on the table, the manager came over to me, took me by the arm and walked me back to the bar.
“You’ve got a visitor,” he said, his voice serious. “Out in the parking lot.”
“No can do, boss,” I replied, and gestured to the crowd with a toss of my head. “Tell whoever it is that it’s not a good time. I can’t take a break until the lunch rush is over.”
“You can and you will.” I looked up at Dean and saw him scowling. I looked down and both hands were clenched into fists so tight, they shook. I’d never seen him angry about anything before — not even when I bumped into a tray full of pint glasses and watched them all smash to bits on the floor.
I put down my tray and held up both hands. “Hey! I’m sorry! If it’s that important to you, Dean, I’m there. Just wanted to make sure my customers were covered, that’s all. With Gretchen gone, there’s no one to watch my tables.”
Dean took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’m sorry too, Sophie. I’m not even sure why I’m so on edge. Don’t worry, you’re right. And take your time. I’ll keep an eye on your section for you.”
“Thanks.” I reached out and gave his arm a squeeze. “I won’t be long, I promise.”
“She’s waiting for you,” he said. “Leaning up against a silver Aston Martin.”
A shiver ran down my spine. Sheila. Damn.
I put on my wool-lined denim jacket, the luckiest find ever at the Goodwill store, and walked out the front door. I stood for a second to get my bearings, and the wind gave my stocking-clad legs a brief hug and ruffled the hem of my skirt before taking off in search of another victim.
Hmmmm ... another victim, yes.
She was standing next to her parked car, resting her hip against a fender and watching the restaurant door as if she knew I’d be coming — which I’m sure she did. She was wearing a dark grey business suit with a violet blouse underneath, and modest pumps that matched the color of the suit. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, but under her wind-tousled reddish-brown hair, her face revealed nothing. Her pale blue eyes, once so warm and loving, just seemed empty now, and cold.
I remembered when I would lose myself in those eyes, not too long ago. The thought made me want to cry, and I shook my head.
Not here. Not now.
I walked across the parking lot and stopped a few feet away from her.
“You didn’t have to do that to Dean,” I said, a touch of anger in my voice.
“Do what?”
“Give him the push. Make him want me to see you.” She raised an eyebrow. I sighed. “You pushed so hard, he lost his temper. It’s not like him, and now he’s worried there’s something wrong with him. You could have waited.”
“I didn’t want to wait. And why should you care?”
“Because I care. I like the man.”
“Oh, is there love in the air?” Those eyes flashed, half in amusement and half with curiousity.
“I said like, Sheila.” I raised my voice a little and let my irritation show. “He’s a good man and a good boss. He shouldn’t be messed with, just because you can. Nobody should. But if you deserved the power you’ve been given, you’d know that.”
“I needed to see you, and I didn’t want to wait.” She shrugged. “It’s small magic. You know it doesn’t last.”
“Oh, I know. Or you would have used it on me to get what you wanted ... from this.” We stared at each other for a few seconds, and I forced myself to relax. “So why are you here?”
She looked at me without expression. “No hello? No how are you?”
“I reserve greetings and polite inquiries for customers ... and for the people I actually care about,” I replied, my voice equally cool. “Since you’re neither, just state your business.”
‘Liar,’ a tiny voice inside me whispered. As usual, I ignored it and waited.
“My business?” She raised an eyebrow.
I sighed. “Tell me what you want and leave. Or just go and let me get back to work. I have eight tables today, and it’s the lunch rush. Gretchen called in sick.”
“My, my.” A smile grew on her lips. “I never imagined you could be so ... dedicated to your work.”
“Some parts of me haven’t changed. You knew me back when, Sheila. All those fourteen-hour days, the sleepless nights. I worked hard when I ran Shirai Industries. I work hard here, too. These people deserve good service, and I give it to them. That’s my job.”
She looked into my eyes. “Those sleepless nights weren’t always about work.”
I met her glare with one of my own. “One time, Sheila. One time in twenty one years, I lose my way. I find myself in bed with another woman. One stupid little drunken slip, never to be repeated. I was so ashamed, I could barely look at myself in the mirror the next day. And you acted like I’d been carrying on like Casanova."
“I don’t KNOW it was only one time!”
“Well, I do. And it’s not like you bothered to ask, is it?”
“Like you would tell the truth!”
“Did I lie about what I did?” I stepped forward and found myself looking up into those eyes. I didn’t realize she was that much taller than the girl I’d become. “When you found out, when you confronted me ... did I once deny it?”
“You didn’t tell me when it happened!” Her breath was hot on my cheek.
“Of course not! Why would I?” I took a step back, shivered and turned away. I still felt the shame of what I’d done. “I was stupid, Sheila. I felt like I had betrayed you ... betrayed us. And it sure as hell wasn’t going to happen again. Telling you would have hurt you. And I didn’t want to hurt you.” Pause. “I loved you.”
“Well, I wanted to hurt you.” Her voice cut deep.
“Obviously.” A touch of sarcasm crept into my own. “You were angry, but you did put some thought into your spell before casting it. In a way, it’s a pity I managed to land on my feet ... sort of. Sorry to disappoint you, and upset your ‘best-laid plans,’ but when I was little and people asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, a sex-addicted whore wasn’t one of the answers that popped into my mind.”
I folded my arms under my breasts, hugging myself against the chill, and waited for her to say something until the silence grew too heavy to ignore. I sighed. “That’s what you wanted, right? You wanted me to end up ... like that. But at the same time, you didn’t want me to lose my past. You wanted me to remember who I was, and who did that to me. You wanted me to suffer.”
More silence.
“I’ve done a lot of thinking about it,” I said, my tone conversational, “and I think I know why you went about it the way you did. My guess is that you couldn’t just use your power to change me directly into what you wanted without making me forget who I was, right?”
After a while, Sheila nodded. I nodded back. “You wanted me to remember what I once was, so I would always know what I had lost. You needed me to want sex so badly I ached for it, but only be able to get it from men, and be forced into going to them to earn the money to pay my way. After all, I couldn’t very well be humiliated and crushed every day if I actually enjoyed being a prostitute. If you made me what you wanted in a single step, I would have wound up a ‘happy hooker,’ with no trace of Ken Goldstein left behind to feel the pain. And where’s the revenge in that?”
I stood up and turned away, not wanting to look at her.
“The way I figure it, you had to set me up to fall into the life.” I did my best to keep my voice level. I didn’t want her to see how much this hurt. “Because once I did, you were sure I’d never ever climb out again. So you waited until I slept, then changed me into a big-breasted blonde teenager with legs up to here and hips that could stop traffic. Then you made me want sex so badly I couldn’t see straight, dressed me up in a Hollywood hooker outfit, and dropped me on the street in a city hundreds of miles from home, with nothing but an empty purse and an itch to scratch. Gotta give you credit for creativity, Sheila. I never saw it coming.”
“Even though I wasn’t tied up as tight as you wanted, you did the best you could to make your ‘loose change’ work for you.” I could hear the bitterness creep into my voice, even though I didn’t want it to. “What you didn’t count on was how easily I could see exactly what you wanted — and how stubborn I could be about not wanting you to have it.”
“I lost the hooker outfit as soon as I could find one of those drop-off bins for a charity — old clothes for the needy, that sort of thing. I found a tee shirt and jeans that sort of fit, and I left the things I was wearing for the charity to sort out. I asked around for a homeless shelter, but they had no openings. So I walked around the city three or four times, sticking to well lighted areas until the sun came up.”
Sheila spoke suddenly. “But the need ... the urges I gave you ...”
I tossed my head, surprised at how easily the feminine mannerism rose, and my lips formed an involuntary smile. “Oh, please, Sheila. I was a teenaged boy a long time ago, in another life. I learned to ignore the need to have sex RIGHT NOW. Some skills you never lose. It’s like riding a bike.”
“Besides, I may still want sex with a man, but back then I wanted something else more. I wanted to keep you from getting what you wanted when you did this to me.”
“So you haven’t ...?”
“Not stupid here, Sheila. Best way to avoid giving in to temptation is to keep my distance. I flirt because it’s expected socially, but the rest of my life is man-free. I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if you made sex physically addictive for me. One orgasm and I’d be hooked for life.”
I shot her a quick glance, and was surprised to see a flash of guilt before she looked away from me.
“I did a little research in a graveyard a few towns over, and found the name of a dead baby girl who would have been the right age had she made it past her first week. Sophia Louise Deems. Sophie to her friends... my friends, now that I stole the life she might have had.”
“I found a place to stay, a halfway house for runaway teens. They got ‘my’ birth certificate for me from the state, and even a social security card from the Feds. I found this job on my own, though, and moved out as soon as I made enough cash to make it happen. It’s been slow going, but I’ve built a new life, and I’ll get along.”
The wind pushed some leaves across the lot, and I leaned against the fender of a nearby pickup truck that had seen better days.
“Being Sophie isn't exactly where I wanted my life to go, but it's better than what you had planned for me.” A touch of sadness crept into my voice. “I’m not exactly happy like this, but I have a good job, a place to stay, and friends who like me. All in all, it beats being fucked over and over every day by faceless men to pay the rent … and by the woman I loved.”
I turned around and looked into her eyes. “So why are you here? Certainly not to get the short life story of Sophie Deems.”
She looked away. More silence. “This is a long way to drive to not say anything, Sheila. Are you here to try again? Hell, you could have done that from home. Unless you want to watch me struggle this time instead of just throwing me to the wolves.”
Without another word, she stood up, walked around to the driver’s side, got in and drove away. I watched her car pull onto the road and disappear into the flow of traffic. Then I shook my head, wiped away the tears that had started to form, and walked back to the restaurant.
I had customers waiting.
My shift was over, and I could finally go home. Tips had been good, and Dean had been happy with how well I coped handling my tables and Gretchen’s, too. I changed out of my uniform into a soft sweater, a pair of well-worn blue jeans, and some sneakers from the discount store. After spending the day in heels, my feet thought the pink and white Walmart specials were every bit as good as a $200 pair of Nikes. As far as I was concerned, they were.
I walked as quickly as I could towards the bus stop, hands deep in my pockets, one clutching a can of pepper spray and the other curled into a fist. My nails cut into my hand slightly, mostly because I hadn’t yet figured out how to make a real fist with these talons Sheila wished on me. I’d cut them, but that only lasted a day or two. Then I’d wake up and there they would be, just as long as they were when I woke up standing on a street corner and looking like a wet dream.
It was dark, and I was tired. The bus stop was only a short distance from here, and well lit, but I was well aware of how much danger I was in as Sophie. Living with three other girls, I heard all of their horror stories about being stalked .... hunted. As wrong as it was, being a teenaged girl out alone is a little like being a kitten in a house full of Rottweilers. Like it or not, I was prey.
I had the pepper spray of course, and had taken a few self-defense courses at the halfway house, but I knew damned well I was no match for a “motivated” man, no matter how motivated I was to win. My best course of action was to spray and run, and hope to God someone came along to save me.
I was almost to the bus shelter, thankful to finally be within reach of the pool of light, when someone stepped out of the shadows.
“I can’t.”
With a muffled shriek I jumped into the air, and spun around to find Sheila coming out of a dark corner nearby. I didn’t even check the parking lot to see if she had come back. Stupid. Bad enough I hadn’t been watching for her, but what if it had been ... someone else?
I waited a second to catch my breath, and let my voice come back to me. Then I processed what she had said. “Can’t what?”
“I can’t try again.” Her voice was flat, as if she was discussing the weather, and I realized she was continuing our conversation from before as if hours hadn’t passed. “I used enough magic on you to make you immune to me doing anything else but reversing what I’ve done. Another magic user could do something to you, if they wanted. I can’t.”
I felt an unexpected wave of relief wash over me. As much as this new life wasn’t what I’d chosen, I had invested enough of myself in it to want to keep it. Although I wasn’t completely safe, if another magic user decided to take a dislike to me.
“It doesn’t matter anyway,” she continued. “I don’t want to try again. I was wrong to do what I did in the first place. So very wrong.” She turned to face me, and I saw her lip quiver. “And I want you back.”
My jaw dropped. I stared at her as her eyes filled with tears.
“I was stupid to do what I did. I was hurt and angry and — and I reacted badly. But I do love you, Ken. I always have. I love you and I miss you, and I want you back.”
There was a loud hiss and the blare of a horn. I turned and saw that the bus had come, and before I could even think, I turned and sprinted for the door. I ran awkwardly, my strides too long, all bouncing breasts and swiveling hips, elbows out and breathing hard ... but I did run.
As I clamored up the bus’s stairs, I turned to find I had left my wife in the dark, both physically and emotionally. And that was just fine by me, because I was just as confused and clueless as she was.
It was stupid of me to run. Not that there was any thought involved at all, but if she found me at the restaurant, she could certainly find me at home.
Home. Now there was a funny thing to think. Sharing an apartment with three other girls for several months, I'd come to think of it as home — probably because the home I used to have wasn't really there anymore. Still, I guess home is where you make it, and as I climbed the stairs with keys and pepper spray in hand, I felt absurdly safe.
'God knows what's happening at Shirai,' I thought, not for the first time. 'A man … a CEO … just can't disappear without anyone noticing, can he?'
On the other hand, I became a teenaged girl with a little magical assist, so maybe Ken could be deleted the same way.
'Does that mean everything I did to build that company up just disappears along with me? All that work wasted?' I shook my head. 'Don't think about it. All it does is make you sad.'
Despite how many months it had been, I still hadn’t checked the papers, or looked for my former self on the Web — partly because I was afraid of what I’d find, or not find, as the case would be.
After all, a man hates to think his place in history could be so easily erased.
I unlocked the deadbolt, and used the same keys in the knob. The door swung open, and I darted inside, turned quickly and locked both locks. Then I sighed, and let all the tension bleed off of me. Safe.
Yeah, right.
“Hell, Sophie,” Carolyn piped up from the couch, lounging in her PJs and watching the Cartoon Network. An open carton of Tin Roof Sundae ice cream sat on the coffee table. “You always come through the door like you're being chased.”
I dropped my shoulder bag next to the table by the door and took off my coat. “That's 'cause the one time I don't worry about it, I will be.”
“That's a bad attitude, girl.” She lowered the sound on the TV with the remote. “It's not all bad out there, you know. You come straight home from work everyday and lock yourself in like you're a prisoner. Why don't you ever go out and have some fun? You don't see Katie and Meg here every night, wasting away in front of the tube or in their rooms with the door closed, listening to tunes.”
“Katie and Meg like to party. I don't.” I shrugged.
Carolyn laughed. “Girl, the only thing you seem to like is work!”
“As soon as I figure out who the hell I am, I'm going to need the cash to pay for the school I'm gonna need to make me who I want to be.”
The other girl shook her head. “You are way too serious, Sophie! You need to live a little — set your inner wench free, girl. A hard man is good to find, and you need somebody to loosen you up in all the right places.”
'I will never get used to how these girls talk to each other.' I thought with a smile.
Out loud I said, “Now you're sounding like Jerry at work. He wants to give me a massage and 'get my kinks out.'”
“Mmmmmmm,” she purred and fluttered her eyelashes. “I've seen the man, remember? Nice smile. Nice ass. You could do worse.”
“We work together! Who need the complications?” Suddenly I thought about Jerry's smile — and his ass. I felt hot all over, and struggled to change the subject. “Anyway, I did get chased tonight, sort of. So there.”
“WHAT?” She shut the TV off completely. I was sorry I said anything, but it was too late to take it back now. “Sophie, why didn't you say anything when you came in?”
I wrapped my arms around my middle, shivered, and tried to cover with a bit of attitude. “Because I'm not about the drama … like some people I know.”
Carolyn reached up and grabbed my elbow, then pulled me onto the couch and wrapped her arms around me in a hug. “It's not drama,” she said softly. “It's something you're afraid of, and it really scares you. So tell Mama Bear what happened. I will be comforting and discreet. Promise.”
I sighed and relaxed into the hug for a minute. “It wasn't a stranger,” I whispered, trying to come up with something close to the truth. “An old boyfriend tracked me down at the restaurant. The last time we were together, he threw me out in the street a few hundred miles from home, and just left me there with nothing but the clothes on my back. Now he pops out of the dark near the bus stop by work and says he's sorry and he loves me and he wants me back.” I felt the tears slip out of my eyes, and shook my head to clear them. “As if.”
She pulled back and looked into my eyes. “Did he follow you here?”
“God, I hope not!” I shook a little bit, and she gave me a squeeze.
“We'll call the police if he does.” Carolyn touched my cheek. “This is home, and you're safe here. That's what home means.” She grinned an evil grin. “And if he does show up, we'll staple his balls to a 2x4 and dig up a sledge hammer somewhere. An evening of wholesome fun.”
I smiled and shook my head. “You are terrible.”
“Damn straight, girl! Lover boy wants you, he gotta go through me. And no man messes with Queen Carolyn the First.”
After a few more seconds, I pulled back from the hug and reached for the ice cream. She slapped me lightly on the back of the hand. “Hey! You know the rules. You said keep it away from you for your own good. You know that stuff's going right to your hips.”
“Maybe, but it's gonna taste awesome along the way.” I grinned and snatched the carton away. I picked up the spoon and put a great big scoop into my mouth. “Mmmmmmmm.”
“Ewwwwww,” she said, shaking her head. “That is seriously ick. That was my spoon, bitch.”
'Really?” I looked at it curiously for a minute. With great deliberation, I licked the back of it, then grinned at her again. “I guess now it's mine.”
Without warning, she reached out and tickled me. I squealed and my whole body shook all over. Carolyn grabbed the spoon and took her own great gob of ice cream into her mouth, then showed it to me and wiggled her tongue around.
“Gross!”
It took a few more minutes of silliness, but eventually I relaxed and let her talk me into watching a marathon of old Warner Brothers cartoons until way after midnight.
I guess there was a reason I thought of this place as home after all.
It had a friend like Carolyn in it.
I spent the rest of the night tossing and turning, trying to figure out what Sheila’s game was — wondering if she really wanted me back, or if there was another plan she was working to undermine my ruining her original idea.
I was still confused the next day when I stepped outside and found her parked at my door, once again leaning against the fender of her Aston Martin. Part of me wondered how she found me, although I supposed it wouldn’t be difficult for someone with her skills. The other part of me wondered if I should just turn around and walk back inside, but then I figured it would just be postponing the inevitable. She was there, she wanted some kind of answer, and she wouldn’t leave until she had one.
I walked down the stairs, opened the passenger side door and slipped inside. Sheila walked around to the driver’s side, got in, and pulled away from the curb. Neither of us spoke to the other until we’d reached a nearby diner and found ourselves in a booth with coffee in front of us and breakfast on the way.
“You ran away,” she said softly, her eyes on her cup as she stirred in several packets of sweetener.
“Yes.” I took a sip of my own. “Not what Ken might have done, I suppose. But as a teenaged girl, I’ve learned the value of fear. And you’re just too damned scary not to be afraid of.”
She looked up, surprised. “Scary?”
The look on her face was so unexpected, I could barely keep from laughing out loud. Then I realized that part of her just didn’t get it, and the fear rushed through me again.
She really didn’t understand.
“You rip me out of my life and thrust me into this body,” I said, trying hard to keep my voice from shaking, “with every intention of forcing me into some horror show of a life without the possibility of escape, because I was unfaithful once during our entire marriage. We’re talking about a plan that would scare the hell out of a rational, caring person if they even thought about doing it to someone else. And you’re surprised I’m afraid of you?”
“You’re not acting afraid now.”
“You’d be surprised how good an actress you become when you have to play someone less than half your age and a different sex!” I hissed, then stopped and shook my head. “Besides, you already know I’m afraid or I wouldn’t have run.”
“It’s not just me you’re afraid of,” she said softly. “It’s what I said last night. That I want you back.”
Just then the food arrived, and we waited until the waitress left to continue. As we both looked down at a breakfast neither of us really wanted, I spoke in a voice that was surprisingly calm.
“Who?”
She looked at me. “What?”
“Who do you want back? Ken? Or Sophie?” I picked up a piece of toast and dipped the end in my coffee. “I mean, I’m seventeen years old and female now, and I don’t remember you ever wanting to experience lesbian sex ... let alone with a minor. Or is there something you aren’t telling me?”
Sheila looked flustered, and I took a bite of the soaked bread.
“I want my husband back,” she said. “I’m so sorry, Ken. I was wrong to do what I did, and I want us back together again ... as a couple.”
“So you’ll change me back?” She nodded. “For how long?”
“Well ... forever.”
“And how long is forever these days?” She stared at me. “How long, Sheila? Until the next time you lose your temper?”
“What are you talking about?”
I threw the toast onto my plate. “You want to know why I’m afraid, Sheila? You really want to know why? Because your lack of impulse control changed me into a teenaged girl, dressed me in a slut suit, and sent me hundreds of miles away from home with an itch you wanted me to scratch. You did everything you could to turn me into a whore, just because you wanted me to suffer.”
“And it wasn’t an easy bullet to dodge, sister,” I hissed, trying to keep my voice down through the anger. “I lied before. I was this close to being what you wanted me to become. I almost grabbed the first man to walk by, and it took everything I had to turn away and run. It still does. I flirt with Jerry and the guys at the restaurant the same way an alcoholic with a thirty-day chip pours himself a shot of Scotch and stares at it — just to see if he can keep his hand from reaching down and taking that first drink that starts him back into the hole he climbed out of.”
“Every minute I’m in the same room with a man is another minute I have to fight the same fight over and over again. YOU did this to me — out of anger and spite! You set out to destroy me, and thank God I’m still here. But who knows what you’ll think of the next time you get angry with me?”
I stopped, breathing hard, just to let my anger fall. She looked at me, stunned into silence. I stared down at my plate, shaking all over, and waited for the trembling to stop.
“The worst part of it is, I still love you,” I whispered. “I just don’t trust you anymore. ‘I’m sorry’ only goes so far, Sheila. You betrayed me ... you hurt me ... far more than my one stupid mistake ever hurt you. The woman I married ... the woman I loved ... would never have done what you did to me. She would have seen how much it hurt me to hurt you like that, and how sorry I really was.”
I looked up into her eyes. “But then you found your power, and the sorceress you’ve become did it, without even thinking of what she was doing to the man she loved. And I’m still not sure you wouldn’t do it again. That’s the problem.”
“Right now, if what you said is true, you can’t touch me magically except to change me back. You took your shot, and I’m still standing. But if I become Ken again, all bets are off. I’m fair game. And I can’t ... I can’t make a life with you ... if all I have to look forward to is waiting for the next time you lose your temper. And how creative you might be when you do.” I slid over and stood up next to the booth.
My voice grew softer. “I do still love you. But I’d rather spend the rest of my life as Sophie Deems — periods, endless burning lust, and all — then spend it lying in bed next to you, living in fear.”
I reached onto my jacket pocket and threw some bills on the table. I had to get out of there before I broke down in tears.
“Goodbye, Sheila.”
It was a long walk home. The tears came almost before I left the parking lot, and I didn’t try to stop them. Why should I? I was a girl now, after all. Girls get to cry, right? Especially with as good a reason as this girl had.
When she told me that the women in her family sometimes manifested magical powers, I was happy for her. Not at first — after all, it took a bit of convincing to even believe in the possibility, but once I accepted her powers were real, how could I possibly be anything but supportive? Now that those same powers had taken my life and the woman I loved away from me, all I could feel was anger and sadness for everything that had been lost.
I was surprised when I realized that I was crying more for the death of my marriage than I was for losing the man I had been. Damn it, I had loved Sheila with all my heart. I still did, even after all that had happened.
But I couldn’t go back. I just couldn’t. As much as I hated to let my fear make the call for me, being Sophie had taught me that sometimes, fear was the only thing you could count on to keep you safe. The only defense I had against Sheila’s power was that she couldn’t use it against me now. As long as I stayed as I was, she couldn’t touch me magically. I was as safe as a teenaged girl could be — at least from her particular brand of magic.
So no matter how much I wanted my old life back, it wasn’t an option. It couldn’t be, not ever.
I had to be smart. I had to be strong.
I had to be ... Sophie.
So I went back to my new life, and I did my best not to look back. There was nothing left for me there.
Work was good. I liked it, because it was easy work (at least for me). I liked being nice to people, getting them their food and making sure their time at Dean’s was pleasant. It was also rewarding, because when you’re nice to people, they’re usually nice back, and that meant lots of tips. Besides, I was good at it. I had the kind of memory that made remembering orders easy, and regulars liked that I remembered them and asked about their lives and families.
As for men? I still flirted with the customers (and with danger) every day, and Jerry still flirted with me (which made me smile even as it scared me silly). The urges were still there, just as strong, but if they got to be too much, I just spent a little extra time hiding in the ladies room calming down until I could get back on the floor and keep serving.
Every night was just the same. Rush home and lock myself in, and hear Carolyn complain about how I needed to cut loose before she cuddled up with me and spent the night in front of the TV too. Maybe Carolyn said something to the others, but I wound up having to turn down nightly invitations to go out and party with Katie and Meg. I finally had to lie to them the way I did to Carolyn, and explain about the fictitious boyfriend who abandoned me, and how I wasn’t quite ready to get up close and personal with a guy again at the moment.
The truth was that Sophie was one girl who knew her limitations. Dealing with men in a work environment was hard enough, but I knew if I did the girl’s night out thing, one drink and one slow dance too many could wind up making me a slave to Sheila’s curse.
Still, it made me sad. I did like Katie and Meg, and I would have liked to go out with them and have a little fun for a change. Every time I turned them down, I felt more like a prisoner in my own skin. I couldn’t really move on. I couldn’t really be the girl I had become, because this last vestige of Sheila’s spell held me hostage.
Almost a week later, I went into work as usual and started waiting my tables. I flirted a bit with the businessmen who came in at lunch hour, but it seemed easier on me somehow, as if something was missing. It wasn’t until halfway through the lunch rush that I realized what was wrong. Or rather, right.
The urges were gone.
Oh, I could look at Jerry and agree with Carolyn (nice smile AND nice ass), but the thought of going to bed with him didn’t drive me crazy with lust anymore. On the other hand, it didn’t drive me away in disgust either. Instead, I found myself wondering what it would be like, and a little excited at the prospect of saying “yes,” just once.
Or maybe more than once.
The Ken in me wasn’t quite sure how to feel about that. It scared me a little, since I’d never thought about men that way before. But since I had committed to being Sophie, I had to admit that being a girl meant thinking about men ... that way.
And if the urges truly were gone, maybe I could think about a future that didn’t involve variations of “duck and cover” when it came to the male of the species.
I was distracted and off-balance all afternoon, trying to work out how if I were truly free of the need to breed, not to mention how I really felt about Jerry and how I really felt about feeling the way I did about him.
By the end of the day, my responses to his flirting had become less put-downs and more playful. Every time Jerry smiled at me, I couldn’t help smiling back. And I had decided, I didn’t mind looking at Jerry’s bottom. In fact, I sort of enjoyed it.
And when Sheila was waiting for me in the parking lot after my shift that night, I wasn’t at all surprised.
I walked down to her car, where she waited, leaning against the fender. It was cold, and we both huddled in our coats and looked at each other.
“We could talk in the car, you know,” I said with a small smile.
She nodded. “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. You know, being in a space that small with me. I know you’re scared.”
“I never thought you planned to knife me, Sheila.” This time I grinned. “I’m just skittish around magic, that’s all. Since I’m still Sophie, I figure I’m still safe. And since you took the urges away, I’m better than safe. I’m almost happy.” I reached out and touched her arm. “Thank you.”
“I am sorry, Ken ... Sophie.” Shelia didn’t look at me. “I really, truly am. But you’re right. It was way too easy for me to even think of hurting you that way. I let the power take me places I never would have gone, because it made revenge so easy I didn’t even have to think about what I was doing. I nearly trapped you in a living Hell because of it.”
I saw her wince slightly. “Last week, I was so angry with you when you left me there in the diner. You loved me but you couldn’t trust me? After I told you I loved you and wanted you back, you denied me. I seethed with anger all the way home, and decided to let you suffer by leaving you as you were, wanting every man you saw while you fought every minute to keep yourself from giving in to the lust.”
“Every night, I imagined you living the rest of your life fighting this, or even better, finally giving in and becoming the sex-crazed slut you fought so hard against becoming for so long.” Her voice had turned bitter. “But the strange thing was, every time I thought about it, it gave me less and less pleasure. A small voice inside me kept nagging at me, becoming louder and louder with questions I didn’t want to answer. I loved you, didn’t I? Is this what you’re supposed to do to people you care about? I shouldn’t want to hurt you this way. What was wrong with me?”
“This morning I woke up and I realized you were right. Just the fact that I had left you still aching for a man’s touch after what you said at breakfast meant that I hadn’t grown nearly enough. You were right to be afraid of me.”
“So I took the need away.”
“Not all of it,” I said softly. Sheila turned to me, and I smiled, a little embarrassed. “Jerry really does have a nice ass. And a smile that makes me melt ... a little.”
She smiled, a little embarrassed herself, and turned away again.
“I left you with choices,” she said, “because before you had none. You’re bisexual now. I reduced Sophie’s lust for men to a more normal level, and brought back Ken’s lust for women.”
“Can I ask why?”
She shrugged. “I wanted you to have options, and not feel tied into wanting a man because of what I did. But I also remember Ken wanting a family, and how I always put him off, wanting to wait for just the right time. I thought it might be easier for Sophie to have the family Ken wanted if she enjoyed men the way Ken enjoyed ... me. And the way I enjoyed him.”
There was a long silence.
“I’ve also deposited half of our joint assets in Sophie’s bank account. You shouldn’t have to struggle to get the education you want because of my stupidity. You have enough now to go to school and be whatever you want in your new life. I wish you all the best.”
I was stunned into silence. “So that’s it? It’s over? You’ll just walk away?”
Sheila turned to me once more, and this time I saw the tears running down her face.
“I have to,” she whispered. “I have to let you go. That’s my punishment for what I did, because I do still love you, and I always will. The magic is mine forever. I can’t wish it away, because it’s a part of me now and always will be. But I wish to God I could, because it turned me into something I never wanted to be, and never want to be again — a cold angry bitch, who tried to destroy the man she loved.”
“It’s my fault you don’t trust me anymore. I’ve lost you because I went crazy with power, and I scared you so badly that you’d rather be a woman for the rest of your life than ever sleep beside me again. So my husband is gone. He’s never coming back, and I have to live with the fact that I ruined everything.”
She walked away from me, around the car and opened the driver’s side door.
“I know sorry isn’t nearly enough, but it’s all I have, and all I’ll ever be, now that I’ve lost you.” She looked at me once more, and her voice broke. “Goodbye ... Sophie.”
I stood there in the middle of the parking lot and watched her drive out of my life.
I took the bus home in silence, and walked up to the apartment door without even bothering to hold onto the pepper spray canister in my pocket. When I let myself in, the smell of tollhouse cookies hit me hard the minute I opened the door.
“Hey,” Carolyn called. I hung up my coat and shoulder bag and wandered into the kitchen. She was taking cookies off of a baking pan with a spatula.
“Hey,” I replied, sitting in one of the kitchen chairs and watching her work.
“You’re quiet.”
“I’m working on my mouse impression.” I reached out and juggled a hot cookie off of the plate. She smacked the back of my hand with the utensil but I popped my ill-gotten gains into my mouth and let the hot dough melt.
“Mice usually squeak.”
“The ones who don’t live longer. Even if they do end up alone.” I reached for another cookie, and suddenly I was sobbing, my whole body shaking. I didn’t even see it coming.
I heard Carolyn drop the spatula and I felt her come around to my side of the table. She wrapped both arms around me and just held me.
“Oh, baby,” she whispered, “what’s wrong?”
I couldn’t answer. All the pain I had held in just poured out, and I let her hold me, because I didn’t have the energy to pull away. Eventually the sobbing stopped, although the tears kept falling.
“Do you remember the boy I told you about? The one who stranded me with nothing?” I felt her nod. “He came back full of apologies, but I told him that even though I loved him, I couldn’t trust him anymore. And he went away for a while, but he came back today and met me after work. He told me he finally understood that he had done something incredibly mean and stupid, and ruined what we had out of anger. Then he said that even though he still loved me, there wasn’t any way he could regain my trust, and he had to let me go. He said losing me was his punishment for doing what he did, and then he drove away.”
She nodded again. “So what’s wrong?”
“I don’t want to let him GO!” I started crying again. “I love him so much, but I can’t stay with him, and I can’t just let him leave me again! I can’t trust him, but I want to, so much. Oh God, I’m such a fucking mess! Why does everything have to be so hard?”
I just sat there, shoulders shaking and let the tears fall. Carolyn just kept holding me, giving me a squeeze now and then to remind me she was still there, but waiting patiently until the crying ran its course. When she felt I was ready, she stood up, took me by the hand, and walked me into the living room. She sat us both down on the sofa.
“Listen, baby girl,” she said, “love isn’t logical. It’s not supposed to be. It’s deep and mysterious and full of confusion and contradictions. People click, or they don’t, but whatever happens when you fall in love is too powerful to ignore. Just because it’s not ‘smart’ to love someone doesn’t mean you can just stop. That’s why so many girls end up stuck in abusive relationships. It’s not that they want to get hurt. They just can’t leave. Because when you fall in love, logic takes a vacation and doesn’t bother coming back.”
I gave her a long look, and after a minute, she nodded. “Been there, done that, got the tee-shirt — along with the bruises, broken bones, and whatever else he did to me before I ran. Even when I was gone, I kept thinking about him, wondering if he was okay. Wondering if maybe since he drove me away, he’d learned his lesson. Part of me wanted to leave the shelter and go back, see if he’d changed. But then one of the other women did just that, and spent three weeks in intensive care before she died.”
I squeezed her hand, and she gave me a small smile.
“The thing is, Sophie ... I get it.” Carolyn shook her head. “I know exactly what you’re feeling, because I felt it too. When it happens, love is so damned special, you can’t bear to let it slip away. But sometimes, you have to. Because if you don’t ... it will kill you.”
She looked into my eyes. “This guy ... he may be sorry now. But tomorrow, or the next day, or next week, he could lose his temper again. And ...”
“I get it, too, Carolyn.” I sighed. It was a ragged thing, and as it dragged itself out of me, it left a gaping hole in my heart. “I understand. It just ... it doesn’t make it any easier, you know? To ... to let him go.”
“I know, baby. It never is. I do know something that makes it less painful.”
I raise an eyebrow. She grins at me. “Chocolate chip cookies, and ice cold milk.”
I let go of her hand and give her a push. “Damn, girl! Food is your answer to everything!”
“Not just food — chocolate!!” She rose to her feet. “But tell me ... am I wrong?”
I sighed again, then shook my head. “No, you’re not. But I’m going to need an awful lot of cookies to make me feel ... not empty.”
“We’ll see what we can do.” Carolyn put both hands out, and when I took them, she pulled me up off the sofa and led me back towards the kitchen.
She makes a mean cookie, and the baked goods orgy was well worth the tummy ache that came later.
But I still missed Sheila.
Two weeks later, it was my birthday — well, Sophie’s birthday, really, but since I was Sophie (and had reluctantly decided I was going to be Sophie forever and ever, amen), it really was my birthday, now. I was eighteen again. I still couldn’t drink in a bar, but there was a fair amount of alcohol at home. Besides, in addition to throwing me a great party that went on and on into the night (even if it was attended by lots of people I didn’t know), Carolyn and Katie and Meg gave me the best gift ever.
They invited Jerry.
He and I had been spending more time together at work — taking breaks at the same time, hanging out when our shifts were done, and generally finding out more about each other. Now that I didn’t have to treat him like the enemy all the time, I realized that I actually liked him as a person. He was still young and sort of full of himself, but then again, Sophie was pretty young, too. Even though she didn’t have a lot of her own stories to tell, Jerry seemed happy being with her ... well, with me, too.
He was smart and funny, and I enjoyed hanging out with him. But at the same time, my body was doing its best to let me know that it enjoyed his company, too. He made me feel all warm and tingly in all the places I had been doing my best to ignore for so long.
It took a little effort and a lot of tossing and turning in the middle of the night, but I finally admitted to myself that I wanted him. After all, I was a woman now, and that wasn’t ever going to change. Was it so wrong of me to want him? Because I did. I wanted him to touch me, and hold me, and kiss me. And I wanted him inside me, on top of me and under me, doing all the things to me I used to do to Sheila that made her cry out and cling to me on all those nights so long ago.
So towards the end of the party, I decided to be bold. I took his hand, then led him to my bedroom and shooed out the couple that was already making out on my bed. Before I could change my mind, I locked the door behind them and turned to kiss him gently on the lips.
“Why Miss Deems, I do believe you’re trying to seduce me.” He smiled down at me and kissed me back, slowly.
The mangled quote from The Graduate wasn’t lost on me, but I looked up into his eyes and purred, “Trying? Judging by what I’m feeling pressed into my thigh, I think I’m doing better than trying.”
I started unbuttoning his shirt, and he pushed my hands away.
“Sophie, we can’t.”
“Why? Has it been so long?” I grinned. “Have you forgotten how?”
He looked away, a little uncomfortable. “Well ... you’re underage.”
“Not anymore. Or did you miss the ‘Happy Birthday, Sophie’ banner on the way in?”
Watching his face as he processed this information was priceless. When I was sure we were both on the same page, I started working on his shirt again and kissed his smiling lips. “I’m eighteen today, boy. So shut up and give me my present ... so I can give you mine.”
We cuddled with the lights off, happy that the party guests and music were still loud enough to cover the noises we both had made. I found myself with my head on his naked chest, breathing in his scent and listening to his heartbeat. His arm was around me, his hand gently stroking my naked hip, and the wetness slipping down from between my thighs was accumulating under me to make that wet spot Sheila always used to complain about.
I didn’t care. I loved it. All of it. And I wondered why it didn’t bother me more.
Of course I didn’t wonder for long. I was cuddled up against a tasty bit of man, and I felt like giving it a bit of a taste. I moved my head slightly and gave his nipple a good lick. I felt him wiggle a bit. So I licked it again.
“Hey!” His voice rumbled through my head, from the ear pressed to his chest. “Those things don’t actually DO anything on a guy, you know.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” I replied, giving it another lick. “This one seems to make you jump when I touch it with my tongue. I wonder what would happen if I bit it?”
His hand moved down and gave my bottom a soft smack. I laughed and buried my face in his chest again.
“Oh, from great sex to casual abuse,” I moaned. “What next?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” He pulled away long enough to roll over on top of me. “Back to great sex. It’s the basis of all male-female relationships.”
I spread my legs as he rolled onto me and kissed him hard on the mouth, my hands coming up to cup his tight ass and squeeze it gently.
“I think we should leave the abuse out,” I whispered into his open mouth, “and just stick to the part where we both enjoy each other.”
I felt his naked hardness pressing into my leg. It took my breath away, and before I thought too much about it, I reached down, took hold of it, and slipped its massive head just inside me. Then I thrust my hips upward to capture it deep and tightened my muscles inside to keep him from slipping away.
“Mmmmmmm ...”
He shuddered and looked down at me. “That’s way dangerous, Sophie, and you know it. I go off inside you now, and nine months in the future, you’ll be cursing my name in a delivery room somewhere. And I don’t want that.” He grinned. “I kinda like the way you say my name now.”
I pouted, but he was right. With a sigh, I relaxed my muscles and let him slip out, then reached over and took a condom from the box next to the bed.
“It’s actually nice that you’re more worried about my getting pregnant than I am,” I said, as I rolled the condom over his erection. “That’s sweet.”
“Well, you’re going to have to meet me halfway from now on,” he growled. “Pulling out of you after being inside you like that was damned hard, girl.”
“Trust me, Jerry. It’s still damned hard.” I grinned and gave his latex-wrapped cock a pat. “Besides, I think the way we’re built, I’m ALWAYS going to have to meet you halfway ... and then some.”
I lay back and guided him inside me once more. He thrust his hardness into me, and I rocked under him as he moved above and inside me, my mouth devouring his with kiss after kiss. I felt desirable, wanted and lusted after, and oh so very wonderfully horny until I stopped thinking clearly for a while ... which turned out to be very, very nice, indeed.
Around five o’clock in the morning, I heard the last of the party guests walking out the door, and fifteen minutes later the other girls had given up on the cleaning up until later, and slipped into their bedrooms to sleep. Finally, the apartment was silent.
I lay in bed next to Jerry, both of us still naked. He was sleeping on his side facing away from me. He snored lightly, which was endearing, but when I buried my face in his back and wrapped myself around him, he smelled like man, which did interesting and frustrating things to my insides.
Of course the parts of me that were most interested in waking him and having my way with him were sticky and uncomfortable and more than a little sore. And considering everything we had done to make them that way, Jerry didn’t look to be waking up any time soon. So I decided to go get cleaned up, maybe find some food out in the mess and do a bit of thinking.
I had a lot to think about.
I stood up and wandered around the room, looking for something to wear. I picked up Jerry’s shirt and looked at it, then held it up to my body and grinned.
“Oh God, that is such a girl thing,” I whispered, then giggled. “Even thinking about it seriously... I must be crossing some kind of line ...”
Then I shook my head and laughed. ‘Considering everything you did tonight,’ I thought, ‘you crossed that line about a thousand miles back ... girl.’
I looked at the sleeping man, then back at his shirt, and before I could stop myself, I had slipped it on and was buttoning it. Of course it came down to mid-thigh, and with the sleeves rolled up and my hair all tousled, I looked exactly the way I expected to look.
Damned sexy. And I liked it.
Besides, the shirt smelled like him, and I liked that, too.
I wandered out into the hall and down to the bathroom. It was a mess, thanks to the guests, and I sighed and pulled a box of antiseptic wipes out from under the sink. I cleaned the toilet seat and the area in front of it as best I could before sitting down, which made the seat colder against my bare bottom than I would have liked. I’d been a woman long enough to get used to having to sit down for everything, but that didn’t make a cold toilet seat any more comfortable for its familiarity.
Afterwards, I thought about taking a bath, but settled instead for something quick and careful, standing at the sink with a hot, wet facecloth and some body wash. I did my best to get rinse off the worst of the night’s stickiness all over, and even though it did make me feel fresher, I kept a bath on my list of things to do later.
I walked into the kitchen, still in Jerry’s shirt, and brewed myself a pot of coffee. I sat down at the kitchen table, careful to tuck the shirttails