Chances Are Omnibus (Gender Swap Fiction) Read online

  Jake lets out a weary sigh reminiscent of his wife’s. “Fine. Take the stupid job. You’ll figure out I’m right.”

  “I will take the job.” But then I look down sheepishly at my feet as I remember the job application. “There’s just one problem.”

  “Only one?”

  “I don’t have a Social Security number. Or any ID. I need it for the application.”

  “Well, you’re in luck on that score.” Jake takes a manila envelope off his desk. He shakes it open and out pops a Social Security card, state ID card, and a birth certificate. “I had one of our mutual friends make these up.”

  I pick up the ID card. There’s my name: Stacey Lynn Chance. Eighteen years old. The height is a little shorter and the weight a little higher than what Dr. Palmer said. The picture isn’t of me, but the girl is a close enough match that no one will notice. I hold the ID card up to the light: the laminate is legit. “Must have gone to Sampson?”

  Ricky Sampson is the best forger not currently behind bars. He would be except that he cut a deal with the DA. He works as a forensics consultant for the city, and the city keeps him out of jail.

  “Yeah. He hasn’t forgotten anything.”

  “Must have cost a pretty penny.”

  “He did it pro bono.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “We exchanged favors.”

  “What did you do for him?”

  “I didn’t blow his fucking head off.”

  I laugh at this. For a moment at least it’s like old times. Makes me wish we could go down to Squiggy’s and tie one on. But we can’t do that, not anymore. “You couldn’t have got him to make me twenty-one?”

  “You go up to some bartender and say you’re twenty-one and they’ll know it’s a fake ID. Probably cut it up in front of you and then you’ll be screwed.”

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  “Hey, come on, it’ll be all right. Why don’t you fill out your application? I need to go out and get a smoke.”

  “Sure.” As Jake starts to go, I add, “And thanks.”

  ***

  When I finish with my paperwork, Tess waits for me with a black purse about the size of a toaster oven. “Here you go, dear. You’ll need this.”

  “I don’t need a purse.”

  “Every girl needs a purse. You can’t go around with everything sticking out of your pockets, can you?”

  That had worked well enough for me before, but that was when I had a wallet. “I guess not.” I take it from her. From the weight I realize it’s already got some stuff inside. I open it up and see lipstick, a compact, eyeliner—none of which I know how to use—as well as a hairbrush and three maxi pads. “That’s so thoughtful of you.”

  “Now you’ll look like a woman,” Tess says.

  “Yeah, great.”

  “Just make sure you take good care of it. There are a lot of people with sticky fingers in this city.”

  “I’ll be careful.” I’d die of embarrassment if I let myself get victimized by a purse-snatcher like some little old lady.

  Tess wraps me in a hug. “I’m so proud of you, sweetheart. You’ve been here just three days and look at you! You’re all cleaned up with some nice new clothes and now you’ve got a job.”

  “I’ve come a long way.” And it’s true. When I woke up that first morning I was naked, with nothing, not even a name. In three days I have what amounts to nearly a normal life.

  Maybe Dr. Palmer was right about that second chance.

  Part 4:

  Stacey Rising

  Chapter 23

  I’m so excited I can hardly sleep. It isn’t as much about the job as the job’s proximity to Maddy. I hope she works tomorrow so I can go over for a coffee and have a little chat with her. If I play my cards right, I might be able to find out a few things about her, about what she’s done since her mom and I divorced.

  I lie on Jenny’s bed and think of hundreds of different conversations between Maddy and I. Most of them go badly, with her realizing her old dad has become a young girl. In those conversations she screams and sobs while I lurch away into the night like the Frankenstein monster. There are a couple that end better, where she hugs me and I promise things will be different now. I don’t put much stock into those.

  I know Jake is right that I can’t tell Maddy who I am. She’d never believe me. Maybe after Dr. Palmer’s tests are done I could show her the results. But then what? She probably hates me not only for the divorce, but also because I didn’t contact her the last twelve years. That my lack of involvement was her mother’s idea wouldn’t be of any help.

  I toss and turn for a few hours, until I’m sure Jake and Tess are asleep. Then I sneak downstairs and turn on the TV. Mostly it’s infomercials at this hour, so I lie on the couch and watch two beautiful people hawk skin care products. I snort as I remember what Dr. Palmer said. FY-1978 would have made products like this obsolete. It would have made just about the entire beauty industry obsolete. That was a lot of money; no wonder Lex wanted to get his hand in that pie.

  Does he have any of the FY-1978? Or any of Dr. Nath’s notes? Something that might help Dr. Palmer find a way to cure me? Wouldn’t that be a great universal irony if the only person who could save me was the one who did this to me to start with?

  I sigh and try to think of happier thoughts. Maddy looks a lot different than how I had envisioned, but it doesn’t matter. I love her anyway. As I told Jake, she’ll always be my daughter. I remember the moment the doctor handed little Maddy to me, how perfect she looked. She still had some blood on her, but I didn’t care. She was my little angel.

  The tears start to flow again. I do what I can to wipe them away. I try to focus on the present: Maddy with her pink hair and nose rings. Is she on drugs? It didn’t seem like it from what I’d seen. That doesn’t mean she can’t toke a doobie every now and then. What if she is on something? I can’t turn in my own daughter.

  I’m not sure when I fall asleep, but when I wake up, Tess stands over me. She has a look of concern on her face. “Are you feeling all right?” she asks.

  “I couldn’t sleep,” I say. “Nerves.”

  “Oh, I see. I could call that woman—”

  “No!” I say, harsher than I mean to. “I’ll be fine.”

  I don’t eat a lot for breakfast, just some toast with jam and a cup of coffee. The coffee I need most of all since I got almost no sleep. I shamble through breakfast and a shower like a zombie.

  The biggest decision of the morning is what to wear. I go through my drawers—where Tess put most of my new clothes—to find something that will look presentable for Maddy. I settle on a black T-shirt and a pair of jeans with a hole in the left leg Grace assured me was made naturally. I try to smile in the mirror, though my face still looks tired. I suppose it’s too late to dye my hair pink and get a few piercings. Not that Tess would ever let me do that. I make sure to grab my new purse before I head downstairs.

  Tess takes me as far as the nearest subway station. I can’t escape before she wraps me in a hug. “Have a good day, sweetheart. If you need anything at all, you call me right away.”

  “I will.”

  “And be very careful. This city isn’t safe for a young girl all by herself.”

  “I’ll be careful.” I want to tell her I’ve been a cop for thirty years, but I can’t. The look on her face as I leave is like a mom as she sends her kid to school for the first time. I’m sure Tess would have liked to look after me a little longer, to have me all to herself so she wouldn’t be alone. Jake and I really need to talk about that at some point; there has to be something we can do to cheer Tess up.

  I can’t think of anything right now, so I leave her to her loneliness and board the train.

  ***

  I feel normal again as I ride the train. I get a seat next to a young woman in a business suit who’s too busy with her phone to notice me. A middle-aged guy stands next to us. He tries to be subtle, but I can see him peek at the girl next to me. I feel a
little jealous he doesn’t notice me. Am I that plain?

  The girl and her admirer get off at the next stop. A woman with a baby carriage gets on. I shift over so she can sit closer to the door. She nods her thanks to me before she reaches into the carriage for her baby.

  It feels oddly good that no one talks to me. I’m just an anonymous face, one among millions. I’m not any different from any of the other women here. I feel a lot better than the last time I was alone on a train, when I wore clothes much too big for me and felt everyone could see through them. I suppose after a few days I’ve started to settle into my new skin a bit, to feel at home in my own body again.

  I get off in the garment district and start towards the stairs. Along the way I see a girl with a cup. She doesn’t look too different than me that first day, her hair disheveled and clothes baggy. I give her some of the money Tess loaned me for lunch. “God bless you,” she whispers.

  I wish I could do more for her, but I can hardly take care of myself at the moment. I climb up the steps and then join the great crush of people on the sidewalks. Again the anonymity feels good. I’m elbow-to-elbow with people of every size, age, and color and yet no one pays any attention to me. No one screams that I’m a freak.

  That gives me hope for Maddy. She didn’t notice anything yesterday, so as long as I don’t come on too strong, she shouldn’t notice anything today. How long can we go on like this? Years if it takes that long.

  ***

  I get to Grace’s right at nine o’clock. The door is still locked, so I do as she suggested and rap on the glass with my left hand. The knock sounds timid to my ears. I take a deep breath before I try again, hard enough to rattle the glass.

  “I’m coming!” Grace shouts from inside. “Keep your panties on.”

  Her face turns a little red when she sees it’s me. “Oh, sorry about that,” she says. “I thought you were someone wanting to use the bathroom.”

  “I didn’t mean—”

  “I’m joking!” she puts an arm around my shoulder. “You aren’t going to last long here if you take things too seriously.”

  “Oh. I’ll try to do better.”

  “Hey, come on, don’t be nervous. I don’t want to be your boss. I want us to be friends. Except I get to tell you what to do. OK?”

  “That sounds fine.” I unzip my purse to take out the papers she gave me yesterday. “I filled these out. Do you need a copy of my ID or anything?”

  “These should be fine.” Grace skims the application I sweated over so much last night. “To be honest, you’re my first employee.”

  “I am?”

  “My mom used to run the place. She started it about fifteen years ago, after she split with my dad. Then she got sick and I came back to run it for her.”

  “That’s too bad,” I say. “Is she—?”

  “She died four years ago. Pancreatic cancer.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. You didn’t know her. She was a really interesting lady. A little crazy. Kind of like me, huh?”

  “Um—”

  “I’m just kidding. I can see it’s going to take some time to crack that shell of yours. That’s all right. I like a challenge.”

  “So what am I supposed to do?”

  Grace leads me over to the old brass cash register. The black buttons are so big they look like you need a hammer to make them work. “Mostly you just run this old monstrosity. Mom got it from a flea market because she thought it looked neat. It’s kind of a pain to use, but I’ve gotten used to it. You will too after a couple of months. If I’m not such an ogre that I drive you away, right?”

  “You’re not an ogre.”

  “You just don’t know me well enough.” Grace gives me a lesson on how to use the cash register. As I suspected, I have to slap the buttons hard for them to go down all the way. The “No Sale” sign pops up. “Good job. Now we’ll just have to wait a little while for a customer. You’ll find out pretty quick that we aren’t exactly Times Square around here.”

  If that’s true, I wonder why she needs an employee. She intuits this question and picks up the heavy book I saw her with yesterday. “I could probably run the place by myself, but I’m working on my psych dissertation. I’ve been working on it for six years now and I’m just about finished with it. With you watching the place, I can get it done.”

  “So this is a temp job?”

  “Well if you really want to stick around, I can probably sign the whole thing over to you eventually. After I find a job.”

  “Oh. Wow,” I say. I try to imagine myself running a clothes store in the garment district. Is that what I want to do with my life? If it keeps me close to Maddy, then yes.

  I hear footsteps upstairs. Then the stairs begin to squeak. I just about faint when I see Maddy come through the doorway. Her pink hair is unbound and mussed while her oversized T-shirt and sweatpants are wrinkled. She looks like she just got up.

  Then she kisses Grace on the lips.

  ***

  In none of the scenarios I ran through my head did I ever imagine my daughter is a lesbian. The possibility never entered my mind. But then the last time I’d seen her, she was ten years old, playing Barbies and Pokemon.

  I take a couple steps back while Maddy and Grace kiss, until I’m pressed against the wall. My mouth hangs open, but no sound escapes my lips. It’s obvious from the duration of the kiss Maddy and Grace are well acquainted with each other and that this is not just a friendly hello. They’re a couple.

  I try to tell myself Maddy is old enough to make these kind of decisions for herself. She’s old enough to date whoever she wants. And even if I want to complain, I haven’t been around for twelve years and I can hardly butt in now as Stacey Chance.

  After they separate, Maddy turns to me; her face lights up with a smile. “I guess Stacey’s an early riser,” she says.

  Grace puts an arm around my shoulder. “I like an employee who’s punctual. That’s why I didn’t hire you.”

  “You’re just afraid I’ll steal all the clothes. At least the ones that fit.”

  “Well you just about cleaned out the swimwear before we went to Atlantic City.”

  “I needed some bathing suits. I’m supposed to go to the Gap?”

  Grace gives my shoulder a squeeze. “The other part of your job, Stacey, is to make sure Madison doesn’t use the place like her personal closet.”

  “Yeah, well, Stacey and I already have an understanding. Don’t we?”

  “I, uh—”

  “I’m sure Stacey was just kidding.” Grace turns to me and adds, “You don’t want to give anything to this moocher.”

  “I told you I’ll have the rent next week.”

  “That’s what you said. Then you went and got your navel pierced.”

  “You’re the one who suggested it.”

  I almost laugh at the bizarreness of the situation. My daughter and Grace argue the same way Debbie and I used to when we were married. They’re like an old married couple.

  Like an old married couple, they make up with a kiss—and probably more later. “I’m sorry,” Grace says. “I’ve just been under a lot of stress lately.”

  “It’s fine. Now that Stacey’s here, she’ll help take some of the load off your shoulders.” Maddy turns to me and says, “Just remember those shoulders belong to me.”

  I hope she’s not serious about that. Though from the look of her, I don’t think I want to meet Maddy in a dark alley. Maybe she’s a chip off the old block after all. “I won’t.”

  “Well, I’m going to get ready for work. It’s good to see you again, Stace. When Mussolini here lets you have a break, come down for a cup of coffee. On the house.”

  “I will,” I say with probably too much enthusiasm.

  Maddy goes back upstairs, which leaves Grace and I alone in the store again. “Don’t mind her,” Grace says. “Maddy can take some getting used to.”

  “I know the feeling,” I say and feel strangely proud of m
y little girl.

  Chapter 24

  Grace and I have the store to ourselves for three hours. She uses that time to show me around the store, which doesn’t take long, and to explain how things work. “Some people will want to barter, maybe trade some of their old clothes for our old clothes. If they do, let me know and I’ll take a look at them.”

  “Sure,” I say. “Don’t you have any men’s clothes?”

  “We used to, but not many men come in here. Most straight guys aren’t that particular where they shop and the gay guys go more upscale. So I phased that out. If a guy does come in here, he’s probably a cross-dresser.”

  I feel my face turn red, though it shouldn’t. I’m not a cross-dresser. I’m not a transsexual either. Dr. Palmer made sure of that. I’m a hundred percent real woman. Still, if I ever did tell Maddy what happened to me, she’d probably lump me in with those weirdoes.

  “Yeah, I know, we get all kinds in here. Not nearly enough like you.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “Nice girls. Most people who come in here are conceited as hell. Myself included.”

  “And Maddy?”

  “Maddy’s got other issues.”

  “She seems normal enough. Except for the hair and rings.”

  Grace waves a hand at the air. “She’s going through a phase. God, listen to me. I sound like my grandma. Next thing you know, I’m going to invite you upstairs for cookies and milk.”

  I want to press Grace about what kind of issues Maddy has, but the door opens and a fat woman walks in; she wears a tank top and shorts that show me far more of her than I want to see. Grace nudges me in the ribs. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”

  I force myself to take a few deep breaths. I’ve faced down hundreds of psychopaths in my career; I can handle one fat woman. I fake a smile as I approach her. “Hi. Can I help you find something?”

  “I need a dress. A hot dress. I got a date tonight and I need to look good.”

  My first instinct is to tell her if she wants to look good she should book an appointment for some liposuction. But I need this job so I can stay close to Maddy and so I don’t have to keep sponging off Jake and Tess. “Sure. Our dresses are over here.”