I was up very late on Tuesday morning, and in the end we were one of the last groups to leave, as I wanted to male sure my blood cells outnumbered the alcohol. I had switched to softer drinks after midnight, just to be sure, but I waited until noon and they were actually kicking us off the site. The traffic had dropped considerably by then, so we were soon out of Shrewsbury and on the A49 heading towards the Shropshire Hills. The day before had been, as the cliché goes, one to remember, but I suspected it might just have been erased from some people’s memories.

For some unknown reason, most people were up later for their breakfast the following morning. The exceptions, of course, were the four young people nesting in the Edifice, who were clearly audible, even through earplugs, from shortly after dawn. I popped my plugs out just in case we were to be visited by a lively LC, only to hear the typically calm voice of Jan as she corralled and fed the child pack. By the time I finally surfaced, they were gone, apparently delivered by Shan’s Mum Ginny to the children’s play area.

Priorities at that age are somewhat fickle.

Emily's Easter Sunday
A “How I Spent My Summer Vacation: I became a Girl” Gaiden
By
Rebecca Anna Coleman

-4-
Advice?

I took a deep breath as I walked into the small bathroom, I was starting to think the wine was getting to Aunt Flora, first she was talking about the Easter Bunny, and now she was talking about Santa Clause. Did she think I was five or six or something? Bloody Hell, I was sixteen!

The morning light filtered through the blinds, striping the empty half of the bed beside him. James groaned, reaching a hand out to the cool sheets where Jennifer should have been. Her flight to Singapore had left yesterday afternoon, and the silence in the apartment was a low hum he couldn’t quite ignore.

A text from her, sent from some airport lounge, glowed on his phone screen: Thinking of you. Go show Dr. Mercer your excellent progress! Xo.

He smiled, a little sadly. Excellent progress. Right.

Emily's Easter Sunday
A “How I Spent my Summer Vacation: I Became a Girl” Gaiden
By
Rebecca Anna Coleman

-3-
Easter Dinner

Nothing really happen for the rest of he day. Despite going to a Catholic Private School, Aunt Flora and I decided to skip going to Easter Sunday Mass. After breakfast Aunt Flora went to get her morning shower and I cleaned the kitchen. The rest of the day was spent with Aut Flora napping and I reading. Dinner was of course the mutton joint that had been stewing away for a good seven and a half hours now.

James fidgeted in the examination room, the lace-edged bralette suddenly feeling far more noticeable under his t-shirt than it ever had at home. When Dr. Mercer knocked and entered, James instinctively crossed his arms over his chest, then immediately felt ridiculous.

The doctor, to his credit, didn’t bat an eye. "How’s the tenderness?" he asked, flipping open James’ chart.

"Better, honestly. The uh," James gestured vaguely at his chest, "support helps. A lot."

Dr. Mercer nodded approvingly. "Good. Let’s take a look."

Dr. Elias Mercer’s office smelled like lavender and antiseptic, a combination that somehow made the framed diagrams of mammary glands on the wall feel less intimidating. The silver-haired endocrinologist leaned forward in his chair, steepling his fingers as he studied James and Jennifer with warm, crinkled eyes.

“Let me start by saying,” Dr. Mercer began, “in fifteen years of helping transgender women lactate, I’ve never had a cisgender man walk into my office with this level of commitment. It’s… refreshing.”

Our burst of laughter was interrupted by a call of “Budge over!” from Pen, as she and Keith appeared, each carrying a folded camping stool.

“If you lot are annexing our bunkhouse, me and Keefy will get a drink out of you, at least. You eaten?”

Maz grinned a welcome, her mood clearly on an upswing.

“Just ordered. Please tell me we’re not planning on hitting the chippy afterwards!”

I noticed a sharp look from Frank towards his wife, but she simply slipped an arm through his for a squeeze. Their business. That was when LC announced that she liked crunchy sausages, which drew Deb’s attention back to the rest of us.

“What are crunchy sausages, Carolyn?”

We ate breakfast as a family plus one (plus bear), and I noticed little nudges by Clara to Ish, with the occasional meaningful look towards Maz or myself. I waited until we had done the dishes and cleared everything away before dropping the hint.

“You want a word with me, son?”

He looked down at his feet for a few seconds, then nodded, so I led him outside into the slowly warming day.

“What is it, Ish?”

“Um, Clara, Dad. She says… Look, her staying with us was my idea, and it’s really nice, and… but she thinks you might see her as pushy, and she doesn’t want that. She wanted me to let you know that if it’s awkward, she can always go back with the others”

We ate in the pub again, as neither of us wanted to wrestle with the influx of paying guests for the cooking facilities, and Neil was on his last night with us before heading home. Our two girls came over from Bangor, but just for the evening, and there was a very obvious bit of silent communication between them as they clocked our (bunk)house guest.

I had slipped back for a quiet talk with Maz on the way downhill, surprised at her surge of decisiveness.

We joined the others just as Chrissy caught us up.

“They’re a friendly lot in there, Mike. All my stuff locked away, no humping, not even the nice sort—er, sorry. Sense of humour gets a little direct when I’m tired. Got my ear plugs, so should be safe from snorers”

Ish looked directly at me, before saying “Snap!”, and then we were inside, the lad beginning a round of introductions for the woman, before she simply cornered Steph for a chat about strings or soundposts, or perhaps sanity and its retention. As usual, Geoff simply sat and laughed, as LC quite casually sat in Neil’s lap to show him her photos

Emily's Easter Sunday
A “How I Spent My Summer Vacation: I Became a Girl” Gaiden
By
Rebecca Anna Coleman

-1-
Easter Morning Breakfast

I took a deep breath as I walked into the kitchen. According to the calendar that was pinned to the wall in the hallway, today was 'Easter Sunday' not that it meant anything to me. I don't really consider myself a 'Christian'. True, I'm enrolled in a semi-private Roman Catholic Academy, but that was Aunt Flora's decision not mine. Plus she often boasted that she had the headmaster under her thumb.

Jason stole a glance at the ornate clock perched on the nightstand, its hands ticking steadily away the moments. Vanessa would be gone for at least three hours—ample time to indulge in what he had been yearning for. The house enveloped him in a tranquil hush, the silence wrapping around him like a luxurious cocoon. His heart raced with a blend of excitement and nervousness as he stepped softly across the plush carpet, making his way toward the sanctuary of their bedroom closet.

The Manchester Early Summer Carnival
A “How I Spent My Summer Vacation: I Became a Girl” Gaiden
by
Rebecca Anna Coleman

-5-
Dunking Booth, Hibachi and a Boyfriend

The Manchester Early Summer Carnival
A “How I Spent My Summer Vacation: I Became a Girl” Gaiden
by
Rebecca Coleman

-4-
Sights and Sounds!

Neil directed us the next day, even though I knew the way, which allowed him to prattle on about the local sites and sights while I simply drove. For once, his chatter fitted the day for it worked like a cross between a sat nav and a tour guide. We heard all about how Cragside in Rothbury, powered by hydroelectricity. how the steam turbine was invented in Newcastle, which also had the world’s first electric public lighting, using the light bulb invented in Sunderland and copied by a man called Edison, and Neil was partway through a rather too detailed account of lawsuits and combined companies when he stopped dead.

“Sorry, all. I got talking, and then I remembered another place I want to see. It’s a little before the car park, Mike”

Yet again that comment. I decided to leave it for as long as I could so that whatever surprise they were clearly organising would remain just that: a surprise.

We said our goodnights, and ambled back to my family, just as the food was arriving. Ish was staring at his glass.

“Dad?”

“Son?”

“This doesn’t really taste like beer”

“Not quite right, son. It’s the stuff back home that doesn’t taste like beer”