The Other Me - Part 3

Printer-friendly version

Apparently, I am on a roll. Two chapters in one day is nothing shy of amazing for me.

Comments are welcome, of course.

---------------------------------------------

I woke up in the morning, feeling a bit worse for wear. It was a nice sofa to sit on, but it left a great deal to be desired as a bed. I looked at the pillow that I had rested my head on during the night. As I suspected, there was makeup smeared all over it. Sigh.

I got up and stumbled towards the bathroom. I ran my right hand through hair, or at least attempted to. Sticky, dried mousse is pretty disgusting. Maybe I’d switch to a different hairstyle.

After stripping off my clothes, I sat down on the toilet and peed. Next, I removed the makeup from my face, then I jumped in the shower. Despite my groggy condition, it felt pretty good. I guessed it had to do with having no significant body hair to dull the sensations. And speaking of which, I shaved my legs and under my arms. Maybe time to get some waxing done.

Now feeling clean, and somewhat human, I took what seemed like an hour to get my hair manageable with the blow dryer. Cripes, to have to do that every morning — what a pain. I wondered if a pageboy or similar cut would look good on me. It could take fifteen minutes off my morning prep. The makeup only took about five minutes, and was well worth it.

I padded off to my bedroom to figure out what to wear. The selection of clothes that I now had was absolutely staggering. It took a few tries, but I got a decent look for my day off. Just as I zipped up my jeans (which seemed a tad snug, according to Lindsay’s memories), the phone rang. I searched around for a few seconds, finally locating the cordless under one of pillows on the bed. Looking at the call display, I saw Emily’s number. Obviously, Randolph had told my therapist about my new ‘residence’, so to speak.

“Hello, Emily. How nice of you to call.” My voice was tinged with just a shade of sarcasm.

“Hello to you, Lindsay. How are you feeling?” she asked.

“A bit displaced, and missing my girlfriend, but other than that, just swell.”

“Yes, I imagine you would want to discuss that. Care to come in this morning and talk?” she asked.

“Sure, why not. When are you available?”

“Any time until 3:00. Just stop by whenever you can,” she said.

“I’ll be there within an hour. See you then.” I pushed the End button on the phone, and put it on the nightstand.

I decided to skip breakfast, as my stomach was doing flip-flops from all the nervous tension. I’d pick up a coffee from a nearby Fourbucks instead, while driving to Emily’s office.

I thought over what I wanted to ask Emily on the short drive over. I also wanted to get the take on homeless Lindsay and if she was a threat. Also, what about Miranda and Mike’s future? Would Miranda be okay?

Before I knew it, I was at the building where Emily had her office. There was plenty of underground parking, as it was a Saturday morning. I bypassed the elevator, and walked up the two flights of stairs to the second floor, where her office was. She was waiting for me at her secretary’s desk.

She walked over and before I could say anything or object, gave me a big hug. I stiffened up, probably more from surprise than anything, before returning it. She embraced me, occasionally stroking my hair, and murmuring comforting words. It hit a chord within me, and before I knew it, I was in tears. I suppose it was one of the reasons that she was my therapist — she always knew what to say or do to bring issues and emotions to the surface, even if her method might be considered unorthodox by her peers in the profession.

Finally, my tears subsided, and she released me. “Now then, dear. Please come into my office and we can talk.” I followed without protest. I removed my flats, and sat on the plush sofa, folding my legs underneath me without realizing it. Emily brought me a cup of tea, and then sat down on the chair opposite the sofa.

She looked me over, and said “I must say, you are quite a lovely young woman. How do you feel about your appearance now?”

“I’m simultaneously stunned, and yet totally unsurprised, by how I look. It’s like I have been living in this body for less than a day, and yet also twenty one years. Does that sound strange?”

“No,” she responded. “It is not the least bit surprising. You do have all of Lindsay’s memories, as dreadful as some of them are.”

“Yes, she has made quite a rep for herself. I have a lot of cleanup to do, so to speak.”

“Well, knowing you, Lindsay — a.k.a. Mike — you will do quite fine with that. You were always a people person, even if you didn’t realize it. But, it isn’t just yourself that you are concerned about, is it? There is also Miranda and ‘Mike’, along with some lesser concerns about the other Lindsay. Am I right?’

I nodded. “Yes, I do wonder about them all.”

“Well,” Emily replied, “we best get the expert on those subjects in here.” She looked up, and spoke into the air. “Randolph, can you stop by for a minute?”

Like a shimmering mirage, Randolph appeared on the other end of the sofa, already sitting comfortably. He was impeccably dressed in a charcoal grey suit, along with a white dress shirt and a blue and grey tie.

He nodded at Emily, and then turned to smile at me. “I do apologize for the sudden disappearance last night. I had a matter which required my immediate attention.”

“That’s okay. I’m sure that anyone with your powers must have some heavy responsibilities.” I paused for a moment, then asked, “What, or who, are you, by the way? Are you an angel?”

He laughed lightly at this, and responded, “I’m flattered that you think so, dear, but my powers are far short of what they possess. No, I am a mere sorcerer, the male version of a witch. Or Wiccan, as some prefer to call themselves these days.”

He continued with a question. “Do you understand the why of what was done to you, Lindsay?”

“I believe so. I am the feminine side of Mike, and you two decided that it would be best if I was separated from Mike, so that he could be more masculine. I understand, although I don’t exactly approve of the method.” I gathered my thoughts for a second, then continued.

“Will Miranda and Mike be okay? I miss her like crazy, and am worried about her. Randolph, I know you said it would be okay, Randolph, but Mike is now essentially a different person. Will they end up splitting up? I know that would shatter Miranda.”

“She is tougher than you give her credit for, Lindsay,” replied Randolph. “There will be a period of adjustment, to be certain. However, I have no doubt that they will be happy together.” I nodded, more or less satisfied with the response. I still missed Miranda, but if she was going to remain happy, what more could I ask for?

“Now, as for your concerns about alternate Lindsay, whose name is now Patricia, let me allay your fears. While she has her original memories, and those of Patricia, she has no recollection of where she used to live. I also erased her memories of her former appearance, so that if she walked past you on the street, she would never know it was you.”

“I’m glad to hear that. Will she be okay?” I asked.

“Like I said before, yes. She has a support network, and a lot of friends. She knows why she is where she is, and she does have a lot of inner strength. More than she realized. She will do fine, and succeed in her new life. She will, for once in her life, truly feel good about herself and what she is accomplishing. So, she is gaining more than she is losing.
And, no, she is not your stereotypical street person. She is 23, her health is improving, and is actually quite attractive.”

There was a lengthy pause, with Randolph and Emily looking at each other in an odd way. The expression was… guilt? Emily nodded at him, as if to say ‘go ahead and tell her’. Randolph finally turned to me.

“I haven’t been completely forthcoming with you through all of this, Lindsay. I had to have a significant reason for doing what I did. It wasn’t good enough that Lindsay was a complete bitch, and that there happened to be a body available that I could shift her soul to. There was a more compelling reason involved. It had to do with her family.”

“I know,” I responded. “She was kind of a poster child for dysfunctional families. That’s okay, I can clean that mess up. I think.”

“No, my dear, it was more than that. Her other family. Her family… in the near future. I had to save that family.”

I thought a few moments about what he had said before it dawned upon me. “You mean to say that Lindsay… that I… am pregnant…?” I looked back and forth from Emily to Randolph for confirmation. They both nodded.

I felt very lightheaded for a moment, then fainted.

up
56 users have voted.
If you liked this post, you can leave a comment and/or a kudos! Click the "Thumbs Up!" button above to leave a Kudos

Comments

Saw this coming

When I hit the line about the jeans being snug. I think this is a terribly unfair thing to do to the new Lindsay. "Congratulations, Mike! You got your fondest desire. Oh, you didn't want to be preggers? Too bad!"

Karen J.

"Freedom's just another word for nothing left to lose"
Janis Joplin


"Life is not measured by the breaths you take, but by the moments that take your breath away.”
George Carlin

Now What Will She Do?

Will she marry the father of the child? Will she find a match?
May Your Light Forever Shine

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine

??

darned if I know what she is going to do. Time will tell.

Get out of that one

Is this a case of "Out of the wok and into the frying pan", or have I missed something? Like who is the father of the child?

Susie

oh right

kristina l s's picture

THAT'S your idea of closure, sheesh. But, but, that little almost jokey comment way back in therapy about probably wanting a child someday if he were really a woman... I mean, ok, maybe, but this is stretching the friendship just a wee bit and what's so special about this kid anyway. There's still options here. Nasty ones, but options. Oh... consciousness returns, gather wits, ask Randolph for a hand up..right knee to groin hard as possible, thanks a bunch Randy ol' boy, let's talk huh. Good thing he's not an Angel, that probably wouldn't work. Damn meddling magicians... Hey I know...I'll be the therapist and you can have the baby, or...

Kristina

Such fire! Such passion!

I'm recommending a meditation break for Kristina. lol

Thanks for the interest and the comments. I'm sure this is going to resolve itself one way or another. In the not too distant future, I hope.

I'm thinking one of Lindsay's conquests (or was she his conquest?) was responsible. Definitely not a virgin birth, to be certain. No matter - I doubt that the guy will be much help. But I do have an idea as to who will be of assistance.

And that is where I will leave it.

Good One!!

I didn't see that one coming but it has me coming back for more!

Moving on to Part 4.

Yours from the Great White North,

Jenny Grier (Mrs.)

x

Yours from the Great White North,

Jenny Grier (Mrs.)