Chances Are Omnibus (Gender Swap Fiction)

by P. T. Dilloway

  “I kind of hoped when she heard you were getting married she might ask me.”

  “You could always ask her. It’s not the Dark Ages anymore.”

  “I have and she keeps saying no.” Maddy shakes her head. “Maybe we’re not supposed to be together.”

  “Don’t say that. You and Grace are a great couple. You’re made for each other.”

  “Then why doesn’t she want to marry me?” Maddy wails.

  “I don’t know.” I put a hand on her back, to let her cry herself out.

  When she’s finished, Maddy runs a hand through my hair. “I think I still have some black dye in the bathroom. It should be dry before your date.”

  “Great,” I say. I follow her into the bathroom to get ready for my big night.

  Chapter 2

  I close up the store at four o’clock. Only three customers came in, which isn’t unusual. The sooner I can get my singing career on track, the better; this store certainly won’t give me much financial security. Not that I’ll need that if I’m the wife of an important child psychologist. Still, it’d be nice to have a little financial independence.

  It’s windy on the walk from the train station. In a way that’s good since my hair is still a little tacky from the quick dye job Maddy gave me. The bad part is the wind whips around the garment bag for my dress like a sail. It takes all the strength in my ropy muscles to hold on to the thing. I check my watch as I walk and see it’s almost five o’clock. Just three hours until I’m supposed to be at the restaurant.

  I find Tess in the kitchen, as usual. I tap her on the shoulder as she seasons some pork chops. She spins around and lets out a little gasp. “Oh my,” she says. “I didn’t think you were going to be home so early.”

  “I closed up early,” I say. “I probably should have called. Mac asked me out to dinner tonight.”

  “That’s all right. I’ll just pop your pork chops back into the fridge. They should keep for another day.”

  “Thanks,” I say. I clear my throat. “He, um, said he wants to talk. About something really important. I think he’s going to ask me the question.”

  She stares at me for a moment, her eyes wide. “That’s wonderful,” she says. She leans forward to hug me. She runs a hand through my hair and comes back with a little dye on her hand. “This must be new.”

  “Yeah. I kind of thought I should look normal tonight.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with how you look, dear,” Tess lies. I know she’s not a fan of my punk schoolgirl look. As someone raised in a strict Episcopalian home, she finds it a little too unconventional. But she cares about me too much to say anything.

  “I was hoping you could help me with my hair and stuff.” I hold up the garment bag. “I got a dress already.”

  “Of course I’ll help you, dear. You just go upstairs and I’ll be up in a minute.”

  “Thanks, Grandma.” I still call her that despite that she isn’t my grandma. Maddy and I got used to referring to her and Jake as our grandparents when we were their little charges and the labels stuck. I think Tess likes it, since she had been robbed of the chance to be a real grandmother when her daughter Jenny died of cancer nearly a decade ago.

  I hang the dress on the back of the door in my room. This used to be Jenny’s room. I still sleep on her bed and use her vanity. The posters on the wall—a mix of Georgia O’Keefe reprints and concert posters for old-time female singers like Billie Holiday—are mine, as are the clothes in the closet and drawers. I look through the drawers to find some underpants, a bra, and some black stockings.

  Tess comes up a few minutes later. I’ve gotten a lot better at doing my hair and makeup in the last five years, but Tess is still the master. Since I want tonight to be perfect, I let her handle it. She clucks her tongue as she runs a comb through my snarled hair. “You really have to be more careful, dear,” she says.

  “Sorry.”

  “It’s all right. You’re young.”

  “I’m not that young. I’m twenty-three. I mean, on the inside.”

  “I know, dear. I only meant sometimes young people are a little careless.”

  I digest that comment for a minute. Then I ask, “Do you think I should marry Robert?”

  “He’s a very nice man.”

  “That’s not what I asked. Do you think I should marry him?”

  “That’s not up to me, dear.”

  “Which means no, doesn’t it?”

  “I’m sorry, dear. I’m not sure it’s a good idea. You’re still so young. I’m not sure you should be tying yourself down so soon.”

  “Why not? You got married at my age.”

  “That’s true, but it was different back then.”

  “Not that different. I mean it was only like thirty years ago. After women’s lib and all that stuff.” I glare at her in the mirror. “I thought you of all people would approve.”

  “Getting married is a lot of responsibility—”

  “So you think I’m not responsible? I have a job. I finished school. I got a degree.” A useless degree in Music History, but it’s still a college degree.

  “I know, dear. I’m very proud of you.”

  “But you don’t think I can be a wife? Is it because I can’t cook?”

  “It’s not that.” Tess sighs. She needs a minute before she says, “The way I was brought up, marriage is a sacred commitment. It’s supposed to last a lifetime. I’m not sure you’re ready for that yet, dear.”

  When I look in the mirror it’s easy to see why Tess would think that. A girl who goes around in bright red pigtails and wears a naughty schoolgirl outfit, who routinely gets mistaken for a fourteen-year-old, doesn’t look like someone ready to settle down for the next forty or fifty years. “I get it. You think I’m immature, right?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “But you’re thinking it. I can tell.”

  “I’m sorry, dear. I just don’t want you to do something rash.”

  “We’ve been dating for over three years now. It’s not like I picked him up in Atlantic City two weeks ago.”

  “I know.” She starts to comb my hair again. “I suppose I still think of you as my little granddaughter. I forget what a capable young woman you are.”

  I reach behind me for her free hand. “I’ll always be your little granddaughter. But I’m a grown-up now. Robert and I love each other just as much as you and Grandpa.”

  “I’m sure you do, dear.” She gives my hand a squeeze and then sets back to work.

  ***

  It boosts Tess’s argument that I need her to drive me back into the city. I know how to drive, but Stacey Chance doesn’t have a driver’s license. As a woman I haven’t needed it since I can usually take the train into the city. On those times I can’t, Jake or Tess gives me a lift.

  In this case I was all set to take the train, but Tess insisted she drive me. She doesn’t like me to walk around by myself at night. I’m quick to agree with her since a young woman, nicely-dressed and alone, makes a great target for the scum who run around at night. At the very least it’ll keep my hair and dress from being messed up by the wind.

  Along the way I check myself in the mirror. Tess put my hair up to help me look a little older. I have on the contacts I rarely wear because I hate the mess of them. All that makes me look at least seventeen. People will probably think I’m on my way to my senior prom.

  Lorenzo’s is an Italian restaurant that’s more than a hundred years old. The neighborhood around it used to be Italian too, but in the last couple decades it has become more Puerto Rican than anything. Despite that, it’s still one of the highest-rated restaurants in the city, the kind of place I could never afford to take my ex-wife to, not on a cop’s salary. I doubt Tess has ever seen the inside of the place either.

  So she won’t mess up my makeup, she kisses my bangs. “You have a good time, sweetheart,” she says. “And congratulations.”

  “Thanks, Grandma.” I give her a kiss on the cheek and then
step out of the car. There are already a number of people waiting, none of them Mac. I see on the clock that it’s fifteen minutes to eight. I’m early; he’ll probably show up in a few minutes. In case he might have run into an emergency, I take my phone from my purse. I don’t see any messages from him. He must be on his way.

  I go up to the maitre d’, who raises a skeptical eyebrow. “Eight o’clock reservation for Macintosh,” I say.

  He checks his book. “Ah yes, Dr. Macintosh has already been seated. This way.”

  He leads me into the main dining room. It’s done in the old style with candles in jars on checkered tablecloths. The vines by the ceiling that surround the dining room have been there since the place opened, something I learned when I checked Zagat’s on my phone earlier.

  Mac already sits at the table that’s near the middle. He’s dressed in a dark suit and tie, his hair neatly combed. No five o’clock shadow, which means he must have stopped at home before he came here.

  He gets up as I approach. He gives me a gentlemanly kiss on the cheek. “You look wonderful,” he says. The maitre d’ gives us another skeptical look. A few other people look at us too. That’s not unusual when we go out; people think Mac is robbing the cradle, though I was born a good fifteen years before him.

  “Thanks,” I say. He pulls back my seat for me. It took me a little while to get used to a guy doing that for me instead of me doing it for someone else.

  Our waiter appears. I let Mac order a bottle of wine for us; he’s a lot more knowledgeable about that stuff than I am. I usually stuck to beer or whiskey when I used to drink. After the waiter’s gone, I lean forward in anticipation.

  Of course he won’t make it that easy. He picks up his menu, which is thankfully written in English. “Would you like an appetizer?” he asks.

  “I’m not really hungry,” I say. “I think I’ll just have a salad.”

  “I was thinking of getting the calamari. I hear it’s good.” Zagat’s said the same thing, but squid sounds awful to me. He sees me make a face at this announcement. “You don’t like calamari?”

  “I don’t really like seafood. I’m more of a meat and potatoes kind of girl.”

  “They have steaks if that’s more to your liking.”

  “No thanks. I had a big lunch,” I say, though I only ate a cup of yogurt from Maddy’s fridge. This little body doesn’t require a lot of food; sometimes I go all day on a cup of yogurt or a side salad.

  “Are you nervous?”

  “A little.”

  He takes my hand. “There’s nothing to be nervous about.”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  “Stacey, I love you, but you already knew that.”

  “I love you too,” I say. This is it, I tell myself.

  The moment is spoiled when the waiter returns with our bottle of wine. It’s a white wine with some fancy, expensive-sounding name. After the waiter pours my glass, I hold it up, and check to see if there might be a ring inside, though I doubt Mac would do anything so cheesy.

  There’s nothing in the glass. The waiter asks for our orders. “I’ll just have the garden salad,” I say. “No dressing.”

  “And for the gentleman?”

  Mac orders his calamari in some kind of sauce. He gets a bowl of soup too. I brace myself during this; as soon as the waiter is gone Mac will ask me to be his wife. I’ll tell him yes and we’ll kiss while the restaurant applauds for us, the happy couple.

  I take another sip from my glass before the waiter scurries away. Mac takes my free hand. “When you first came to my office, I thought you were another troubled teenager. But by the end of that session I saw there was something different about you. There was something special about you, something magical.

  “When I heard you sing for the first time at that karaoke bar, I knew I was falling in love with you. But then you disappeared for two months and I was devastated. I thought I was to blame for making you uncomfortable.”

  “Oh, Mac, no—”

  “Just let me finish,” he says. “The next time I saw you, you were a little girl, but I could see you were still the same woman I had started to fall for. I have to admit I was a little jealous to find out you and Darren were an item.

  “The worst moment of my life was when I boarded Ling’s plane. I thought for sure I would find you dead, if someone didn’t kill me first. But then I found you and Maddy, both still alive. I was overjoyed and I promised myself I’d wait as long as I had to for you.

  “When you became an adult again, I wasn’t sure if you would feel the same way about me as I did about you. That kiss you gave me is still the happiest moment of my life. I knew then I had found someone I could love forever.”

  Here it comes, I tell myself. I ready myself for him to get down on one knee and pull out a ring. He still sits as he continues, “I’ve felt so privileged these last four years to watch you grow as a person. I feel so lucky when I get to wake up next to you. I really want that to continue. So I wanted to ask—”

  My whole body tenses as I wait for him to ask me. He’s taken his time to work up to it, but it will all be worthwhile. This will be the most beautiful moment of my life except for when Maddy was born. Nothing could top that, except if I have my own baby—Mac’s baby.

  “I wanted to ask if you would move in with me. Full-time. No more going back and forth to your grandparents.”

  I stare at him for a long time. That’s the strangest marriage proposal I’ve ever heard. “What was that?”

  “I want you to move in with me. If you’re not ready yet—”

  “Oh, I’m ready. Sure,” I say.

  “You don’t want to?”

  “No, I want to. Really.”

  “Stacey, what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong. I’m happy.” I force myself to smile. “I’m very happy. I definitely want to live with you.”

  “Are you worried about your grandparents? Is that the problem?”

  “Jake can’t get rid of me fast enough,” I say. “Tess will be bummed out a little, but she’ll get over it.”

  Mac stares at me. He finally says, “You’re sending me conflicting signals. You’re saying you’re happy, but you look disappointed. What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong. Nothing at all.”

  “Stacey—”

  “Just drop it! I’m fine. Everything’s fine. Tomorrow we can go get a moving van. Probably not a big one since I don’t have that much stuff. It shouldn’t take more than an hour or two except for the traffic.” I try to sound cheery, but inside my heart breaks. I think about having to tell Tess I’m not getting married after all. It will be worse to tell Maddy after how upset she got about my announcement. I’ll probably need to borrow Mrs. Hoppy to cry into.

  “Stacey, what aren’t you telling me? Please, don’t hide from me.”

  I pull my hand away and then stand up. “I have to use the little girl’s room,” I announce. I even ask a waiter where the bathroom is and head in that direction. Once I’m sure Mac doesn’t see me, I bolt for the front doors.

  ***

  There aren’t any cabs out front, so I continue to walk. I curse the vanity that made me wear these spike heels so I’d seem taller; they’re almost impossible to run in. I have to settle for walking fast.

  Not fast enough. I get about two blocks, into a neighborhood where a little Chinese girl in a nice dress shouldn’t be. When someone touches my shoulder I spin around, prepared to deliver a kick to the crotch.

  It’s just Mac. I resist the urge to go through with the crotch kick. “Stacey, what are you doing out here? Where are you going?”

  “Home. By that I mean Jake and Tess’s place.”

  “So you don’t want to move in with me.”

  “No, I do want to move in with you.”

  “Then why did you run away?” He puts both hands on my shoulders. “Stacey, please, tell me what’s going on. Help me understand.”

  I look down at my black spike heels. “I do want to live wi
th you. As your wife, not your girlfriend.”

  “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize—”

  “You didn’t realize? That’s rich. What was I supposed to think when you said you had something important to discuss? We’ve been together for over three years! I have half my shit in your place already. It’s not much of a big deal about moving the other half in.”

  He doesn’t say anything for a minute. Then he nods to me. “I’m sorry, Stacey. I didn’t mean to mislead you.”

  “I’m such an idiot. I told everyone we were getting married: Maddy, Grace, and Tess. Now I’ve got to tell them I was being stupid. My boyfriend doesn’t want to marry me. He just wants to play house.”

  “That’s not true—”

  “It is true! God, Tess is going to have a fit. I mean, she can barely stand me sleeping over there a few nights a week.” I snort in very unladylike fashion. “To think she was worried about me being too immature for marriage. Turns out she got the wrong person.”

  “Stacey—”

  “Hey, I understand. Do you know how hard it was for me to propose to Debbie? I had to get skunked first.”

  “That’s not—”

  “Oh, it’s not? So maybe I’m the problem. Maybe you don’t think I’m wife material. I get it. I’m just a kid. Silly little Stacey with her guitar, working at a secondhand clothes store for peanuts. She’s not good enough for a fancypants doctor, is she?”

  “I think you’re projecting your insecurities onto me.”

  “Really? So what are your insecurities then?” I’m talking loud enough now that someone opens a window to yell at me to shut up. “Fuck you!” I scream, though it always sounds comical when I swear with my little chipmunk voice.

  “We should go somewhere to discuss this—”

  “There’s nothing to discuss. You’re just like Grace, too scared to commit. If you think I’m going to be your girlfriend forever, you’ve got another thing coming, buster.”

  “Stacey, please, calm down.”

  “You can’t tell me what to do! You’re not my husband.”