“With everything your mother and I have done to help you with transitioning. The… the doctors, the therapist, getting you started on hormones, and all the legal rigmarole…the school administration thought we were all insane! I wanted to throttle that Bible-thumping bitch on the board. Now, just because your first week back in school was a little awkward and some stupid kids said some mean things to you, you’re running away from home? Where were you planning to run to? Huh?”

I was in a mild state of shock as I sat silent in the passenger seat next to a man who was a doppelganger for my deceased stepfather, Nick Perrin. He was talking a mile a minute and pushing the speed limit in an SUV that looked exactly like the one we drove at home. Home! I’m not in Kansas anymore. Or Rossington, New Jersey. Then it hit me. Dad mentioned the first week of school. But it was the middle of June just an hour ago.

“Regina, are you listening to me? Your mother’s probably climbing the walls wondering where the hell you are. It’s half past six already. How’d you get yourself going the wrong way out there by the lake?”

I looked at the digital clock on top of the dashboard and it read 6:38PM, 9/7, 63° F. Where did 3 months of my life go?

“We could always talk, honey. We’re sympatico. Remember the hand shadows I made that got you to fall asleep? That one time you told me you were really a girl, even though mom kept telling you to stop joking around.” Nick sighed as he made a right turn onto Windsor Lane, just 10 minutes from the house. “Running away won’t help at all. If you think school is too much of a gauntlet to run, your uncle can get you into Parsons Academy. Maybe you can qualify for a scholarship. Nah, your grades aren’t good enough. You used to be such a good student, Regina! If it comes to it, we’ll use the small inheritance your mother received from your grandpa’s estate.”

I wanted to speak. I wanted to tell the Nick Perrin in this world that I wasn’t his “Regina.” But who would believe I had stumbled into a parallel universe, their universe, and I was a girl now, not a boy? My lips trembled but no words emerged. I turned to look out the window as we headed home. My home away from home?

“Your mom’s gonna tear you a new one when she sees you, Regina. Just prepare yourself. That silent act won’t work on her.”

Nick took my arm and marched me toward the front stoop of the house. We passed my six-year-old brother Artie’s aquamarine Guardian bike lying sprawled on the front lawn.

“Damn that boy! Why does he think I built that bike shelter in the backyard? Your mother will never discipline him for anything…”

As Nick struggled with the sticky lock on our front door, muttering under his breath, I could hear the undeniable voice of my mother speaking in a bristling tone of voice.

“Reggie! I don’t want you showing Artie those anime cartoons. They’re not suitable for a six-year-old. And now that you’re a girl, I’d think you wouldn’t be wasting your time with that silly—”

Then I heard what was unmistakably my own voice raised in reply.

“Mom! Plenty of girls like watching anime. And they’re not silly!”

Artie interjected, “I think they’re funny, mommy.”

Nick and I entered the house. We stood just outside the living room as everyone’s heads swiveled to take in the shocking sight that I must have presented to them. And them to me!

For a long minute, the five of us comprised a tableau vivant out of a Victorian Era drawing room. Our mouths were agape. Finally, Nick and mom shouted in unison, “What’s going on!”

“Mommy, she looks just like Regina! Dad, who is she?” asked Artie as he cowered behind his older sister, who had dropped the cartoon-streaming tablet onto the floor, causing it to redound with a metallic thud.

“I…I thought she was Regina. I picked her up walking by the side of the road near the lake.” He dramatically dropped his hand from my arm and angrily asked, “Who the hell are you?”

I looked at the apprehensive expressions on their faces. The other me had a look of existential horror in her crudely mascaraed eyes.

“Re…ggie…gie…gie?”

“Gigi? Your name is Gigi?” asked mom as she came forward, placing her hands on either cheek. “Don’t be scared, Gigi. Are you a runaway? Are you from this area? We can get in touch with your folks—”

“Maybe she’s running away from her folks, mom! Maybe they’re abusing her—”

“Is that why you ran away, Gigi?” Mom’s expression changed as she seemed to be examining my face closely in her hands. “You can trust us. We’ll help if we can…”

“I’m not a runaway. I’m…I’m lost…my way.”

“Where were you headed, trying to hitch a ride? You should have said something instead of letting me keep thinking you were my daughter.”

I couldn’t think of anything to say. Not anything that would sound sane. So, I just kept quiet and fidgeted with my hands behind me.

“Nick, I know who she is!” She grabbed my arms and unintentionally shook me like a life-size plush doll. Then, shockingly, she hugged me, her voice wavering as she tried to get the words out.

“It’s Regina’s twin sister! My long-lost daughter! She’s come back to me. Oh, dear God, thank you! Thank you!”

“Sara, you’re tripping. Sure, she looks a lot like Regina but how in the world do you get the idea she’s her twin sister?”

“Come, Regina, Artie! Meet your sister Gigi!” She smothered me with kisses and then turned me to face Regina and Artie. “Say hello to your sister.” Artie looked up at me and then at Regina. Cautiously, he reached out his little hand to shake mine. Regina crossed her arms and bade me a barely audible greeting.

“Sara, I say we notify the authorities. Even if, by some mysterious twist of fate, Gigi is actually Regina’s long-lost twin, her parents are, I’m sure, anxiously looking for her.”

“Her adoptive parents, you mean.” Mom stood by her conviction that I was Regina’s twin sister, reunited with her after 17 years.

“Mom, Gigi’s barely said two sentences since she came into the house. Maybe we can hear from her who she is and who or what she’s running from? Call me overly cautious but she looks like a crazy person to me—”

“Regina! Don’t ever call your sister a crazy person! You spent nine months inside me like two peas in a pod.”

“Maybe I should go?”

“Where would you go? Back on the highway, thumbing rides from strange men? No, it’s late. We’ll deal with the issue of your identity tomorrow. You must be hungry. Please have dinner with us. And stay the night. Nick has to go to work tomorrow but I’ll take the day off and sort everything out. Do you trust me?”

I looked into my mother’s eyes and could only nod my head in assent. She kissed my forehead, and I felt the urge to kiss her back, maybe even hug her. It had been a long time since my ‘real’ mother had showered me with so much affection.

“Regina, show Gigi where to wash up. Dinner will be ready in ten minutes.”

Artie bent down to pick the tablet off the floor. It was still streaming the latest episode of Demon Slayer.

“Artie! Turn that off. I don’t want you watching those things.”

“Maahmmeeeee!”

Dinner was a cavalcade of awkward, tense moments. Everyone at the table except mom either ignored me or cast occasional suspicious glances at me. For the most part, we ate in guarded silence. I was famished and attacked mom’s delicious Spaghetti Bolognese with the fervor of a soup kitchen patron.

“Regina used to love my Spaghetti Bolognese. She always asked for seconds, even thirds.”

“I’m trying to watch my figure, mom.”

“You want George to watch your figure, that’s who,” teased Artie.

Mom laughed and then plopped more spaghetti on my plate. “Artie, pass your sister the sauce bowl, please. No, dear, Gigi, not Regina. Your other sister.”

“Sara, let’s not put the cart before the horse. We have to confirm who…uh…Gigi really is.”

“It’s obvious, Nick. I know my own daughter when I see her. Just look at her. You immediately thought she was Regina! At first sight!”

“Okay, okay. Can we finish our dinner without getting into a fruitless argument? The light of day should reveal the truth. Maybe Gigi here will come clean—”

“She’s my baby and that’s that!” A moment of uncomfortable silence passed before everyone resumed eating. Artie stared at me. A smile curled his lips slowly as he passed me the sauce bowl and ladle, holding it in both hands.

After dinner, while Regina helped mom in the kitchen load everything into the dishwasher, Nick, Artie and I sequestered ourselves in the living room. Nick turned on the Mets game and let the day’s travails slide out of his consciousness. The world shrunk for him to the space between the pitcher’s mound and the batter’s box.

Artie excitedly asked me to play a video game with him.

“Regina doesn’t play with me anymore since she became my sister instead of my brother. She says I only play kiddie games and she’s a grown up now. Do you think video games are just for little kids?”

I walked over to the media cabinet and picked up the Nintendo Switch from the shelf below our flat-screen TV. Nick’s eyes never left the Mets game. Artie was stunned as I placed it down on the floor between us and proceeded to set up Mario Kart 8 for 2 players. I detached both controllers and handed one to Artie. We played for almost two hours. I was surprised Artie wasn’t getting sleepy. Maybe because I kept letting him win. He did better than the Mets that night.

“Artie, time for bed. It’s almost 9 o’clock. You’re supposed to be in bed by 8:30—”

“Aww, mommy, I’m killing Gigi in Kart 8—”

“You can play with Gigi tomorrow after school. And watch your language. Regina, did you finish your homework?”

“No, mom. I’ll do it now. The Mets are losing anyway.” She got up from the couch and accompanied Artie up the stairs to their bedrooms.

“Gigi, I imagine you’d like to shower before bedtime. I’ll have Regina lend you a pair of her old boy pajamas. I’m sure they’ll fit your perfectly. And we’ll wash what you’re wearing now tomorrow morning. Come with me. You can use the kids’ bathroom.” I followed her as she led the way upstairs.

I stood inches away from the stream of warm water gushing out of the shower head as I used a bright pink sponge to lather myself up with Regina’s bottle of body wash. I couldn’t help myself, but I played with the new equipment, especially my small but perky breasts. As I pinched my pert nipples, hoping the sound of the shower would cancel my embarrassing moaning, I recalled with a wry poignancy the recent off-the-cuff conversation I’d had with George on the optimal size of a girl’s breasts.

“I know why you like Winnie so much, Georgie,” I laughed as we walked toward the White Castle at the end of the town’s main drag, Dowd Avenue, after encountering Winnie on her way to her salon appointment.

“Because she’s pretty, smart, funny, and our school’s top cheerleader?”

“No, because she’s got huge bazooms.” My giggling ticked George off.

“Not true. I’m quite happy with a girl that’s got just a couple of handfuls. Breast size isn’t a deal breaker for me. Now, I do like a nice booty—”

Reflexively, I looked behind me for a second before asking George, “Did you think I looked nice wearing that Taylor Swift costume for Halloween? I stuffed some socks in my bra, but the rest was really me.” As we entered White Castle, I jutted out my rear end in his direction.

“Reggie! Stop it. I’m beginning to think my mom’s right about you.”

“And what does Mater say about me?”

He lowered his voice as a pair of middle-aged women walked past.

“She thinks you should have been born a girl.”

My reverie was disturbed by Regina’s booming voice behind the bathroom door cutting through the sound of the shower.

“Hey, Gigi. I’m leaving the pajamas on the doorknob for you. I think it’ll fit you okay.”

Mom pulled out the bed from our convertible sofa and set it up with sheets, a blanket, and pillows. I was wearing the pajamas Regina had lent me. Of course, they looked exactly like the pajamas I had worn until six months ago when I stole one of George’s basketball tops to sleep in. The shirt came almost to my knees and hung loose from my shoulders. Mom wasn’t too amused when she came in to wake me up one morning and discovered me practically swaddled in it under the sheets.

I was still wide awake when Regina’s mom (it’s so weird to think of her as my mother) tiptoed into the living room at a few minutes past midnight. It wasn’t easy to fall asleep, even in such eerily familiar surroundings. The last time I’d slept on the sofa was when my stepdad’s Aunt Remy stayed with us to be at Artie’s christening when he was three months old.

“I figured you’d still be awake. It’s been quite a day, I’m sure. But you’re home now. Oh, and you kept the lamp on. Regina always sleeps with a night light too. You truly are twins.”

“I’ll leave tomorrow morning after washing my clothes. You’ve been awfully nice, but I don’t belong here. My home is a world away. Literally.”

“Nonsense, Gigi. You’re my child. You’re where you’ve always belonged.” She sat down on the pull-out bed and rubbed her cheek against mine. Her tears mingled with mine as I couldn’t help reaching up to hug her.

“Mom. I’m sorry. I’m sorry…”

“No, honey, I’m the one who needs to apologize to you. I should never have let your grandfather give you up for adoption. I didn’t even get to have a say in the whole thing—”

“Mom, you were 16. You were just a child yourself.”

“Your grandfather told me girls were easier to get adopted. He lied because he valued a grandson more than a granddaughter. I love Reggie, I mean Regina, now that she’s transitioning…but not a day went by when I didn’t cry over losing my first-born little baby girl. My heart was broken, torn apart, but now you’re back with me…finally!” Her luminous smile had enough candlepower to light up the entire house. I had never seen her this happy. Had she ever looked at me with such joyous affection and love? She wiped the tears from my face and kissed me once more on my forehead. Pulling the blanket up to my chin, she blew me a kiss and tiptoed out of the room.

My conversation with my parallel mother kept me awake. The depth of her loss in giving up my twin sister for adoption wounded my self-worth. She had always loved the absent twin, not the one she felt burdened with. The one that made her grow up much too fast and made her settle for community college and a drudge job in a mall shop. The one who made her accept a marriage proposal from a man whose prospects would never rise above the horizon of adequacy. I was still sniffling into my pillow when I realized Regina was standing by the sofa bed, staring at me.

“You’re awake. Good. Let me ask you. Who the fuck are you and what’s your game?”