“Don't forget. Friday is my girls night out.”

“So soon?” Michael said. “No, wait. I guess it's been over a month. What do you gals do on these girls nights out?”

“Nothing really,” Barbara said. “Jennifer, Latitia, and I just go to a bar and have a few cocktails. Talk about our husbands. The normal girls night stuff. If you are curious, you can always come with.”

Michael's eyes turned to look at the small curio cabinet in the corner. Inside hidden among mundane reminders of their wedding, their tenth and twentieth wedding anniversaries, the birth and high school graduation of Heather, their daughter, and other such life events were the accouterments of Barbara's witchcraft.

“We've talked about this, Mrs. Fleming,” Michael said, using her maiden name, the name she used when she was being a witch.

“I promised you I wouldn't do anything to you without your permission. I never said I would never do anything to you again,” Barbara said, a mischievous gleam in her eye.

“Yes, but you wield that promise like a drunken genie granting wishes to its loose-lipped master.”

“Only sometimes,” she laughed. “C'mon, it could be fun. You could be my younger cousin Monica from Fresno. In town for the weekend and tagging along with old Barbara for laughs.”

“How much younger?”

“Oh, I think you'd look great in your early 20s, blond like me, slightly shorter.”

“Slightly shorter.”

“Yeah,” she holds her out hand palm down just above her eyes. “Being young, you wear higher heels to make up for the height.”

“Ah, this is just your way of getting me into high heels again.”

“And a dress. Of course, silly,” she said. “It's not like you haven't been a woman before.”

“I suppose there would be shopping too.”

“No, you hate that. Monica would have packed a bag of clothes before she came here.”

“How long are you expecting me to be to be a woman this time?”

She got up and opened the curio cabinet. She pulled out a small box. “Here, put your wedding ring in the box.”

“That wasn't an answer,” he said as he did as he was asked.

“Well, I'm thinking you can't show up to the bar wearing Michael's wedding ring. The girls would rightfully find that weird. So, why not tie the magic to the ring? After I enchant it, when Monica is to arrive on Friday, you'll take off the ring. Have a few drinks. Then, when you put it back on, back to normal.”

“I haven't said yes.”

“You will.”

She was right. “Fine. But, no big boobs. The last time you did this my boobs were enormous. I had a sore back for days... as a man.”

“They weren't that big.”

“They were enormous and too sensitive.”

“That's boobs for you. And you like staring at big boobs.”

“In sympathy these days.”

“Okay, medium-sized boobs. Any other requests?”

“And give you a chance to twist some other poorly worded request?”

“You're learning.”

* * *

The next day, Michael was thinking about the conversation with his wife and looked at the ring on his finger. “She didn't,” he thought. He removed the ring. Light appeared in the circle of the ring and flowed up his arm and across his body. He blinked a few times and when the spots stopped flashing in his eyes he looked at his hand.

Except, it was not his hand, it was a smaller hand, smoother, one might say dainty, with long manicured nails painted a hot pink. He looked down into the cleavage of a green, v-neck dress, a lacy green bra was visible from his vantage point. He took a step toward the bathroom to look in the mirror and realized he was wearing high heels, green patent leather pumps, he discovered when he looked down. Reflected back at him in the mirror was a young twenty-something woman who looked a lot like his wife. Her hair was long and wavy, honey blond in color. Her face was made up like a fashion model, her eyes sporting several shades of greens and gray, her lips lined in ruby red with a slightly lighter red shade of lip gloss.

“Barbara!” She called out in a light contralto, an almost musical voice. She stepped out the bathroom and through the bedroom to the hallway where she met Barbara coming up the stairs.

“Monica, you're early.”

“It isn't Friday.”

“You came out perfect,” her wife said. “You took the ring off too soon.”

“What do you mean too soon?”

“I told you. When you take the ring off, you'll become Monica Bartlett until you put it back on.”

“You said that would only happen Friday.”

“Welllll...”

Monica rolled her eyes, “Here it comes.”

“Technically, I didn't say the enchantment would only work on Friday. I said you would become Monica on Friday.”

Monica laughed.

Barbara was trying to look cute and innocent.

Monica continued to laugh.

“What?”

“How long have you been cooking this one up?”

“I have no idea what you mean.”

“It was the incident with Sharrelle at the Christmas party last year.”

“There was no incident with Sharrelle at the Christmas party.”

“Yes, now you know that. But, for a few days you were casting truth spells on me constantly because you thought I was somehow lying to you.”

“I apologized for that.”

Monica waved her arms up and down her body, “Insincerely, I think.”

“Now, hold on. This has nothing to do with the Sharrelle thing.”

“No? No? Then explain to my why you've made it so I can't BE Michael Flemming except when I'm wearing our wedding band?”

Barbara stood there unable to answer for a moment.

“Exactly.” Monica held up her wedding band and put it on. After another light show, Michael stood in the hallway glaring at his wife. “Trust goes along with Love and Honor.” He walked past her and went downstairs. The front door only slightly slammed as it closed.

* * *

That night, Michael returned to the house. The dining room was lit by dozens of candles. He could smell the oregano of his favorite meatball dish. Barbara stepped out of the kitchen wearing a black apron with white lacy trim, black stockings and heels, and not much else.

“I...”

“Yes, you're sorry,” Michael said. “I know. I shouldn't have left angry. I'm sorry too.”

“You're not going to have me serve you dinner?”

“Oh, no, you are definitely still atoning for what you've done. I just wanted to get this awkward part out of the way.” He stepped over the one chair set at the table. “Are you not dining with me?”

“I shall if that is your wish, Master,” she turned to side of the room to move a chair.

“No, no, dear,” he said sitting down. He patted his leg. “You can sit here.”

“Yes, Master.”

* * *

At work Friday, Michael received a text. “Change in plans. Meeting at The Gold Fisher at 5pm because Jennifer has to leave early.”

He texted back. “The Fisher is a club, not a bar. And I can't get home and to the Fisher by 5pm.”

“Latitia thought a change of pace would be fun. And you can just go there straight from work.”

He had thought about that but he didn’t relish the idea of walking into the bar, now night club, by himself. But, he had made this bed.

He left work a little early and sat in his car in the parking garage. The club had valet parking so he had to change here. He pulled off his ring and stowed it in the glove box as the light show played over her body. She slipped off her heels so her feet felt familiar on the car's pedals. Being shorter, she did have to adjust the seat so she could reach the pedals and see over the steering wheel.

At the club she got out of the car and handed the key fob to the valet who handed her a ticket. She had no purse so she put the ticket in her cleavage. She found a small pouch there which contained a thin wallet, driver’s license, and a credit card. Both of the latter items were in Monica's name. At the door she was waved in without being carded.

She was kind of use to having cleavage and hips that wanted to sway but this was the first time she had been de-aged. The soreness in Michael's left knee was missing. Even with heels, she felt light on her feet. She was about to reach for a door handle when a man's cologne reached her nose. A hand reached the handle before she could. “I got that for you, young lady.” A man of about Michael's actual age said. He had dark hair with a bit of gray on the sides. His eyes were the lightest blue and his smile dominated his face.

“Um, thanks,” she said.

“You look like you're new to going out to clubs. A word of advice, don't let a man buy you more than one drink. Even then, some of the youngsters think a drink is a signed contract. Good luck in there.” He nodded to her and slipped away.

Monica tried not to laugh. She knew the type. A moment later, she spotted Barbara waving from across the room and calling out something she could not hear. Barbara hugged her cousin once she made it across the room, “Great! You made it. Monica, this is my friend Latitia and her cousin Keisha.” Monica shook hands with them.

“Your friend bought a younger cousin as well?”

“I know,” Latitia said. “When Barb said you were coming I thought why not invite Keisha so you wouldn’t have to hang out with us older women.”

“She had to twist my arm. I assure you,” Keisha said.

Barbara and Latitia were already dishing about their husbands when Jennifer arrived. “Sorry I’m late. I went to pick up Laura but she had to work late.”

“Who’s Laura?” Monica asked.

“Oh, my niece heard about our girls night out and wanted to tag along.”

“Just like us, Keisha.”

“Yes, just like us,” Keisha said. “Say, Monica, let’s go hit the dance floor. Let the old folk catch up.”

“Old folk?” Latitia said.

She was getting up from the booth and pulling Monica behind her, “At least you still have your hearing.” They made their way to the dance floor where the music was loud and the bass vibrated the dancers’ teeth. “Is that you, Michael?”

“Kevin?”

“Damned witches,” they both said.

“You want to say how she tricked you?”

“No. You?”

“No.”

They laughed.

“You aren’t that bad a dancer.”

“Probably part of the spell. I have two left feet,” Monica said. “Definitely the spell, I don’t feel self-conscious at all about shaking my thing.”

“It does shake rather nicely.”

“You want to go somewhere private?”

“God, no,” Keisha laughed. “Did you mean that?”

“I don’t know. But, I’d love to see their faces if we did leave together.”

A couple songs later, Latitia bopped up to them. “Monica,” she half shouted. “Barbara had to leave. She wanted me to tell you. I have to leave as well,” she said to Keisha. “You two stay and have a good time.”

“Okay, see you later,” Keisha said.

“I wonder if this was the plan.”

“Get us dancing in a club and ditch us?”

“Yeah.”

“Could be. You want to leave?”

“I’m actually having fun. And I’ve only been brushed up against. No one’s outright groped me yet.”

They stayed on the floor for another few songs. They occasionally spotted Jennifer dancing not far away. Back at the table, the two singles-for-the-night ordered drinks and Monica noticed two men intercept the waitress and pay her for their drinks.

“Men incoming, twelve o’clock.”

“You take being a wingman seriously.”

“Hello, ladies,” a tall dark skinned man said as he stood at the edge of their table.

A light skinned man, just as tall, said, “Do you mind if we join you? I’m Mark and this is Samuel.”

“Please do,” Keisha said, sliding inward of the round booth and closer to Monica to give Samuel room to sit next to her. “I’m Keisha.”

“I’m Monica. Did I see you two paying for our drinks just now?”

“Sharp eyed and beautiful,” Mark said slipping into the booth next to Monica. “I hope you don’t mind. No strings attached.”

“What if we like strings?” Keisha said.

“I guess we could attach some strings,” Samuel said.

They all laughed.

“Are you new in town? Haven’t seen you here before?”

“Do you spend a lot of time in this club?”

“My uncle owns it,” Mark said.

They exchanged pleasantries for a few moments before Monica suggested she and Keisha go to the bathroom. Once there, she said, “Those two are definitely our wives.”

“For sure,” Keisha said, fixing her makeup. “I don’t know about you. It’s been awhile since I got fucked looking like this and I intend on getting lucky tonight.”

“I agree. I wonder how far they were expecting to take this.”

“All the way, I hope.”

“You figured it out?” Said a voice in a stall. Out from the stall stepped Jennifer, laughing. “They thought they would fool you.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. I went to the table when you got up. They said you two were all nervous and unsure what to do so they were going to make sure not to hard sell you.”

“Oh, that means we should throw ourselves at them.”

“Definitely,” Monica said. “So, what happened to Larry, I mean, Laura?”

“Oh, he saw through the stupid plan last week. I told him I wouldn’t do that to him. Instead, I’m wearing him.” She did a quick three-sixty. “How does he look?” Jennifer’s blue dress with a long side-slit twirled around her.

“Very nice.”

“He’s into that?”

She whispered. “Don’t tell anyone. But, me wearing him was his idea. He loves being danced in. And he wanted to see how you guys reacted. Gotta go. The dance floor calls me.”

The young women returned to the booth and the men stood to allow them to slide in. “We pass muster?” Samuel said.

“Do you need to ask that?” Keisha said, stroking Samuel’s thigh.

Monica had her arm around Mark. “So, tell us what you do for a living? I’m betting it involves having pretty women hanging off your arms like this.”

“Um, well,” Mark said.

“Construction,” Samuel said. “We build buildings. We’re between jobs and when that happens, we like to go clubbing.”

“Your arms are so strong, Mark,” Monica said. “I bet you could easily lift both of us up.”

“That would be awkward.”

“One handed,” Samuel said.

“It’s so loud here,” Keisha said. “Do you know a place we could go that’s cozier?”

* * *

They arrived at a two bedroom hotel suite the men were renting. They said they were only in town for a convention. Samuel and Keisha disappeared into one of the bedrooms as soon as they arrived.

“Do you want to go in there?” Mark said, pointing to the other bedroom door.

“That’s why I’m here, Barbara.”

“You knew.”

“Since the club bathroom. You can ask Jennifer to confirm it.”

“Drat.”

Monica took Mark’s hand and pulled him toward the door. “I’m horny as fuck. You better be able to get me off before you blow your load, Mr. Fleming.”