He took her hand and guided her to the bathroom. On the way, they passed by the hall closet door, which had a full mirror mounted on it.
Brandon paused, seeing himself and Mary and that feeling hit again. The one he'd had earlier, but dismissed. But this time it was stronger. He looked, really looked.
His eyes went wide. He was holding the hand of a grownup...his mother. But she'd changed. Not only was her hair longer, it had lightened a few shades. And her face seemed to be less angular, and more rounded. That wasn't the truly shocking thing to him. It was the whole package, with the clothes. His mother looked like an overgrown kid.
He turned his attention to himself. He remembered clearly slipping into his shoes and picking up his things. He looked down. He was wearing his mother's heels and carrying her purse.
But were they her heels. He looked at Mary again. Is this really my mom? It was hard to see that as she made funny faces in the mirror. He fought an urge to tell her to stop.
"Mm...mmm...ary," he said. He'd been trying to say something else, but it just seemed wrong. "Do you see anything different in the mirror?"
The woman-child scrunched her face, looking...
