No part of this story may be reproduced without the permission of the author. From "Miss Lucy Parker and Other Short Stories" Copyright © 2011 by Q. Kelly

A Weird Situation

At the moment, I am in a weird situation. A very weird situation. I'm at dinner, in a fancy restaurant, with my boyfriend. I thought he was going to propose, and I couldn't wait to say yesyesyes. But he is not proposing. He says he turns into a woman for a little bit each day, and that's why he's been nervous about staying nights with me. It happens from midnight to seven a.m., he says. He tells me all this in a clear, steady voice, and his blue eyes are neutral. I blink stupidly for a few moments, and then I laugh. And laugh. Louis has never been a jokester, but he's gotten me good. "Stop!" I half-scold him. "That's not funny." He lowers his gaze. "No," he admits. "It's not funny. And it's not fun at all. And…you're the first person I've told. I should've told you earlier. I was terrified at the thought you'd leave me." "Louis, come on." I glance around the crowded restaurant, scanning over the men in their slick suits and the women in their fancy dresses. "Give it up." "Karen, Karen. I... I..." Louis is stammering now. "It's true." I laugh again. "Fine, okay. Stay with me tonight. Prove it." "I will," he says. "I will. Even if it means losing you." ***** We go back to my place after dinner, and I start to neck a little with Louis. I give it up after a few moments, though, because he clearly isn't in the mood. The time creeps to eleven thirty, then to eleven forty-five. Louis has never stayed past eleven o'clock. At eleven fifty-five, Louis says he ought to go into the bathroom, so that I won't be too startled by his morph. "Sure," I say, humoring him. "It's instant, is it? You change in a split-second?" "No. Gradually, over a minute." "Sure, okay. Go in the bathroom. See you soon." Louis gets up and heads into the bathroom. I settle back into the couch and can only shake my head. Louis has always been a bit weird, a bit off, but this...this prank, whatever he's pulling, doesn't seem to have a point. But whatever. I love the guy. I'll put up with his antics. He's worth it. I love him desperately, so desperately, with all my heart. I have, ever since we met a year ago. We met at a library. Louis is a bumbling, shy librarian, and I found him—even his stutters— cute. He admitted to me several dates later that he'd never had a girlfriend, had never been with a woman sexually. This would normally turn me off, but I felt right with Louis. We clicked instantly, and the first time we had sex was amazing. He "gets" me. I really do want to marry him one day, but I'm afraid he's too shy to propose. No problem. I'll do it myself if need be.

Midnight comes and goes. Nobody emerges from the bathroom, but I hear scuffling. Finally, the doorknob turns. I figure Louis will come out in a wig, maybe some makeup, a dress. We'll have a good laugh, and finally, finally, finally, he'll sleep over. I'm tired of making love and not being able to fall asleep with him. The person who emerges from the bathroom is not Louis, however, and my body goes cold. My heart freezes. The person has red hair (like Louis does, but his hair is shorter), and the person has blue eyes, like Louis has, and the person is the same height— five feet eight inches—as Louis. But. But. This person is a woman. Most definitely a woman—a gorgeous woman dressed in the same clothes Louis wore when he entered the bathroom. Gone is Louis' scruff, his slightly oversized nose, his lopsided grin. The person in front of me has a soft face, a perfect nose, and...and... Oh, God. My disbelief thaws. Somehow Louis snuck a stranger in. I leap from the couch and dart into the bathroom. No Louis. "How'd he do it?" I ask the woman. I live in a thirdfloor apartment, nowhere near a fire escape. "Where is he? Where's Louis? This isn't funny!" "No, it's not funny," the woman says. Her voice is gentle and soft. Lovely. "It's me. I'm Louis." I stare and stare. The woman's chin quivers, and tears pool in her eyes. She dabs at them hastily. "How?" I whisper. "How'd he do it? And why? How is this funny? What's the point of this stupid joke?" "It's not a joke!" the woman shrills. "I have been like this all my life. Mom and Dad took me to doctors, specialists, witch doctors, everyone, but no one could help. You think I like it? I don't!" "You're not bad," I concede. "You have acting potential. Now come on, tell me where Louis is." The woman's shoulders slump. "I told you on Valentine's Day that I love you. I gave you a gold necklace, and then we made love for the first time." Anger washes inside me. I can't believe Louis has confided personal details to this woman. "Whatever," I snap. "Just go, all right? And tell Louis that...oh, I don't know. That this isn't funny. He better have a good explanation." "I should've stayed here for the morph. I should have let you see me." "Yeah, whatever. Just go." "What if I come back at seven? Let you watch me change back?" "Go! And you can tell Louis that he and I are over. Over!" "Please, let me come back at seven." I pick up Louis' briefcase and shove it at the woman. "Get the hell out of here."