by Robin Roseau
“Is something wrong, Mom?”
“No. The alarm is about to go off.”
“What alarm.”
And then I heard beeping, beeping, beeping. I blinked several times. Pandora was watching me carefully.
“Hey,” I whispered. I moved closer, and she wrapped arms around me. I laid my head on her shoulder.
We sat quietly for a few minutes before I said, “You weren’t Altered this time.”
“I was, but only partly. I saw you as my daughter, but I knew the truth at the same time. I had a lovely weekend, Selena.”
“I did, too,” I whispered. I lifted my head and looked into her eyes. “Thank you.”
“You didn’t know this was what Grandma Evie arranged.”
I barked a laugh. “No. I asked for a distraction. This definitely qualifies. This is weird for me. I have a good relationship with my mom.”
“But you’re not 15 anymore.”
“No, and I wasn’t like this when I was 15, either. I was…”
“Less bubbly?”
“Yeah. Serious. Trying to convince people I was an adult. You know?”
“I think we were probably a lot alike,” she replied. “You seem to be doing better than last time.”
“So do you.”
“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking.”
“I have, too. Not about being 15, but being on your side of all of this.”
“About putting on another 15 years and realizing that certain choices were permanently closed?”
“Yeah, I guess. Pandora, I don’t think they’re permanently closed for you.” Then I grinned. “We could do this again, but swap roles.”
She laughed. “No, thank you. I hated being a teenager.”
“It’s a lot better the second or third time around.”
She laughed again. “Only because you have a fabulous mom.”
“I had a fabulous mom the first time, too. Only because high school isn’t real.”
“Gawd,” she replied. “I know what you mean. Best and worst time of my life, rolled up into the same four years.”
“College was way better.”
“More stress.”
“More stress to perform well, but more than made up for because of the social setting.”
“Sure. I understand that.”
“And I was no longer hiding things about myself,” I added.
“Also understandable,” she said. “You know, altering me isn’t that big a stretch. I’m not really changing my reality so much; I’m accepting your change.”
“You’re seeing me as if I were twelve years younger, and as if you gave birth to me. And I can’t believe the details they plug into me.”
“True. But it doesn’t really change me or my personality. You said you weren’t this bubbly.”
“Well, I think that’s a matter of feeling confident and happy.”
“Ah. But I’m getting somewhere.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s real to you?”
“It was until the alarm went off. I had no idea I’d been Altered. I saw you as my mom. I saw myself as a 15-year-old school girl. Who was I talking to when you picked me up?”
“Several employees from Mind on the Road.”
“I thought they were classmates,” I said. “Were they dressed in schoolgirl clothes?”
She laughed. “No.”
“Was I?”
“Yes.”
“Was I at a high school?”
She laughed again. “No. I picked you up from Mind on the Road. Picked you up.” She laughed again. “I had my own alteration, then walked to my car and drove up. But at that point, I thought I was getting you from school. It was a little confusing. I saw what I was supposed to see while also seeing the reality.”
“Was it better this way?”
“You know, I think so. I think that’s why I’m not fighting to not cry. Selena, could we do this again?”
“Yes,” I said. “Pandora, why don’t you go for the real thing?”
“I don’t want to be a single mom, and I told you: I haven’t found a guy I’m willing to settle down with.”
“Are you sure you’re not gay? Because I’ve heard that before, and a year or two later, she’s ‘realized the truth about herself’.”
“They say every woman is at least a little gay.”
I told her about Gail. And then I said, “If they can make me believe I’m your teenage daughter, or that Mary was a 7-year-old…” I grinned. “You could try it.”
“I’ve been thinking about it,” she said. “I think part of my problem is that I’m not willing to submit my life to a man, and I’m really, really stubborn about it.”
“Is that what it would be?”
“Well, not like that so much, but the compromises, and the asking permission to do anything.”
“Permission? Really?”
“Maybe that’s the wrong word,” she said. “But in any relationship, you don’t just do something without talking to the other person.”
“Maybe, but permission.”
“That’s how I keep seeing it,” she said.
“I’ve never thought of it as permission. Agreement, sure. But not permission, like my partner has that kind of authority over me.” Then I laughed. “Of course, I’m dating several women, all of whom have told me it’s never going to be more than it is. I wonder if this is part of the reason for that.”
“No, Selena,” she said. “I’m fairly certain you are a wonderful partner.”
“Well,” I said. “If you want to do this again, I would. I’d certainly like us to be friends. If you want to try the other side, that would be fun, too.” I smiled again. “Or if you want to see what it’s like to have a girlfriend.” Then I made a face. “Although right now I still half see you as my mom.”
She laughed. “Yeah. Daughter.”
“Well, if not with me, with someone else,” I said.
“Maybe I will. Are you ready for me to drive you home?”
“Where are my things?”
“In my car.”
“We should take care of the kitchen.”
“I’ll do that, Selena.”
“You’re trying to get rid of me, your own daughter!” I put on a look of outrage.
She laughed. “No, I’m not. I’d be perfectly happy to take you back to Mind on the Road and get you altered into a teenager again, but I think they’re closed.”
“Yeah, I’m not volunteering to go back to high school.” I thought about it. “Are we obvious when we go out in public?”
“No one has given us odd looks,” she replied. “Did you want to stay and watch a movie?”
“Yes.”
“Let’s clean the kitchen then, and we can make popcorn.”
“Sure.”
* * * *
We watched a sweet movie, and then I invited her in when she drove me home. I gave her the little tour, then we turned to each other. “Give me your phone,” she ordered.
I dug it out and handed it to her. She spent a minute with it, and then her phone rang. She handed my phone back, and then spent a minute with hers. Then she smiled at me. “I’m going to think about everything you said.”
“Good.”
“Your offers-”
“They were all serious offers,” I said.
“Good. I need to think about it.”
“You need to decide how you’ll be happy, Pandora,” I said. “Frankly, so do I. Things are good now, but I’ve been doing a lot of my own thinking.”
We hugged and exchanged cheek kisses. Then she whispered, “Could we get together in a week or two?”
“I’m going home next weekend, but after that, sure.”
“I’ll call.”
“Perfect.”
Home
I picked Mary up Monday night. She looked amazing, and from the way she looked at me, she was pleased with what she saw. We spent a minute kissing, then just holding each other before she asked, “Where
are we going?”
“Dinner, a walk, then coming back here.”
“Okay.”
We held hands. Over dinner she asked, “What do I need to bring this weekend?”
“Outdoor clothes,” I said. “Even if we go to dinner, it will be casual.”
“Will we swim in the lake?”
“Good lord, no!” I shivered. “You have no idea.”
“Cold?”
“Terribly cold. Yeah, sometimes people swim in the high summer, but the water is quite frigid. But bring a swimsuit, because we’ll stay overnight at a resort Monday and Tuesday, and they have a pool.”
“Okay. What did your mom say? This is kind of weird.”
“I told her not to start hearing wedding bells. She said she’d love to meet you.”
We chatted about Duluth and Lake Superior, then she asked what I’d done over the weekend.
“I was a 15-year-old again.”
“Really?”
I told her the story. She sat quietly but then said, “If you ever do that again, I’d go, too, but not if I’m going to be seven.”
“I didn’t know that’s what Evie was going to arrange, but sure. I’m not sure it’s my choice, though. Pandora is the mom. But I’ll tell her she could have two daughters, if she wants. But she may only want one.”
“I understand,” Mary replied. She grinned. “I’d love to be your sister.”
“You’d rather be my girlfriend.”
“True, but it would be fun. Or other events.”
I told her about the event I didn’t attend. She sat quietly and finally said, “I don’t know if I want to do something like that, but I’d play if we knew everyone.”
“Maybe we should arrange something.”
“I think we should. We could do something like that if it were people we knew and trusted.”
“I don’t think we’d get enough, unless you have a lot of friends.”
“How many do we need?”
“I don’t know, but enough to make it interesting. Fifteen or twenty? I got the impression the event this weekend was a lot more than that.”
“A hundred?”
“Oh, probably not, but I think more than twenty.”
“Anyone I might invite is an ex-girlfriend. I don’t think I want that dynamic.”
“Most of the ones I might invite are coworkers, including our boss.”
“I could do that,” she said. “Before I’d invite ex-girlfriends. Evie and Joy know people. Would you trust them?”
“Yes.”
“Call them.”
I laughed. “How about when it’s quieter.”
“Oh. Sure.”
We chatted about other things.
* * * *
“Hello, Selena,” said Joy. “How was your weekend?”
“Wonderful. Yours?”
“It was fine, but it was best you weren’t there.”
“I’m with Mary. Can I put you on speaker?”
“Sure, if I can. Evie is right here.”
A moment later, the four of us were yelling at our phones. “So. I told Mary about my weekend, and about my not-weekend. We were wondering how many women were there?”
“37,” Evie said. “That’s about average for a big event.”
“What would the range be?”
“I’ve seen 75,” she said. “But that’s just way too chaotic. I think 25 is good, maybe a few more, depending on the event. 40 max.”
“Mary and I decided the basic event sounded like it could be fun, if we trusted the people there.”
“Yeah,” Joy replied. “She’s right, or at least I think so.”
“So we wondered if we should organize our own.”
“Ah, ah!” Evie said with a laugh.
“We’d be hard pressed to reach ten people, though, and I don’t know the first thing about running something like that.”
“You don’t have to. You work with one of the companies. Ten isn’t enough for that event, but you could do something smaller.”
“Or I can talk to my good friends, Evie and Joy, and see what they have to say.”
They laughed again. “Or you can do that. So, are you saying you want help organizing an event?”
“I think,” Mary replied. “That the basic idea of the event sounded fun, with the right people, and I think we’d like to try it sooner rather than later.”
“Okay,” Evie said. “Selena, you already know we’ll call you when we know of something we think you might like.”
“I know,” I said. “But when was the last time you attended an Own or Be Owned that you think I would have enjoyed?”
They were both silent for a moment, and then Joy said, “That’s a really good point. There are some that in hindsight we think would have been okay, but probably none we would have called you for.”
“Because we don’t always know everyone,” Evie added. “Or because we do.”
Mary and I both laughed. “What do you think?” I asked.
“I think holding an event would be fun,” Evie replied. “Are you asking us to host it, or are you asking us to help you host it, or are you asking what to do?”
“Starting a conversation. I guess I didn’t think it was complicated.”
“Well, it doesn’t have to be. You can go to any of several different companies and ask them to handle everything, and you just invite people. They charge a fixed fee plus something per participant.”
“How big a fixed fee.”
“It varies, but 500 bucks might be typical. More for a larger venue. Mind on the Road is less, but then you still need to provide a venue. For 500 you get a modest venue and generally two people included. For a larger group, you’ll need a bigger venue. Some places are more, of course.”
“500 isn’t bad. That works out pretty reasonably if there are a lot of people.”
“Sure, but then it’s a bigger venue. 500 will get you a venue big enough for maybe 20 people.”
“So 25 per person.”
“Plus the per-person charge, which varies on duration. It can be an evening to a long weekend. An evening would need to be a simpler event.”
“What do you think we should do?”
“I think,” Evie said, speaking slowly as she considered her words. “That first you have to decide whether you’re doing this to attend the event or because you want to help plan it. If you want to help plan it, you have to decide how much decision-making you want to do, and how much you want to know ahead of time.”
“It’s not that simple,” Joy said. “The various companies can do basic events, but if you want it creative, you can’t just take a basic package. Someone has to be creative. That means you have to pay someone or do it yourself.”
“And you’ve never experienced one,” Evie pointed out.
“Did the two of you just ask for a job?”
“No,” Joy said. “Unless it’s at Altered Events. Then you could ask for us, and we’d love to run it. But Altered Events is one of the most expensive venues. We don’t do anything for less than five grand.”
“Which isn’t bad if it’s 50 people for a weekend.”
“Then fifteen grand,” Evie said. “Up front.”
“Oh, shit,” I said.
Mary looked at me then said, “I think I want Evie and Joy to run it. 300 dollars each for a weekend isn’t bad. If they were running it, I’d pay 300.”
“I would, too,” I agreed. “But I can’t underwrite it. And I want them to play.”
“We can make that part work, and you could get people to sign up,” Evie said. “You could reserve the venue for a smaller down payment, but you’d have to commit to a minimum. Do you want some advice?”
“Yes,” Mary and I said together.
“Talk to the other people you would invite. Judge reactions. Then some of us can get together.”
“I’m going home this weekend,” I said. “I can call you when we get back.”
“Sure,” Evie said. “Are you just feelin
g out the idea?”
“I think we’re kind of serious,” Mary said.
“Then we’ll put out a few more feelers.”
“Either we have to run it,” Mary said, “Or I want Evie and Joy to do it.”
“Then we have part of a plan,” I declared. “Assuming Evie and Joy want to run it.”
“Absolutely,” Joy confirmed. “Call us when you get back.”
“Will do.”
We all clicked off and then Mary and I eyed each other. Finally, I crooked a finger, and she moved closer.
We moved into an embrace, and then kissed. She was very, very kissable, but then she held me tightly. “Do you mind?”
“That you’re hugging me?”
“I was sort of… Decisive.”
“No, Mary. I’m glad.” I pulled away enough to look at her. She dropped her gaze, but I lifted her chin. “Okay?”
She nodded. “I want to be tied,” she whispered.
“I was planning on it.”
“I want you to make me taste you.”
“I was planning on that, too.” I began pushing her backwards, aiming for her bedroom. She went where I pushed, all the way to falling over backwards and bouncing onto the bed. I pointed a finger at her. “Stay.”
I turned to her chest. I pulled out the bag of rope, throwing several coils onto the bed beside Mary. She had rolled onto her stomach and was watching me. “This is what you want.”
“Yes,” she agreed.
“Good.”
I closed the chest and turned to her. “Come here. Sit up. Remove my blouse.” She worked slowly, and then I went to work on her, taking her clothing from her. “Take care of those,” I said, pointing.
She slid from the bed and saw to our clothes. By the time she was done, I had uncoiled the rope. “Stand,” I ordered. And then I went to work tying a body harness about her. When I looked, her eyes were closed, and she was swaying with me.
“Selena,” she said.
I wrapped my arms around her, laying my chin on her shoulder. “Yes, Mary?”
“Is this what you want to do?”
“Yes, but there are two of us here, Mary.”
“I want this, but I don’t want you to think you have to.”
I laughed. “Don’t worry.”
“I sort of…”
“Told me what you wanted? Good. I want you to. As I said, there are two of us here, and I hate guessing.”
