Zoe's defensive posture about her sweatshirt quickly turned to worried fear at Jon's howls of pain and cursing, completely overreacting to a light poke. It really unsettled her to hear Jon drop an f-bomb. She was about to comfort Jon when her expression completely changed, struck by a bolt of inspiration after hearing his declarations of blindness and hustled out the room, quickly returning with something in her hand. “Here,” was all she offered for an explanation as she placed her retrieved item on Jon's face.
A pair of glasses. With a distinctively feminine flair.
It corrected his vision in the hurt eye but obscured the other. “I... what? How did you know there were glasses here?”
“From all the pictures. Around the house of us. In all of them, mom you always has a pair of glasses on. So I just sorta figured they might help. They were easy enough to find in your night stand. Right next to your magic wand.”
“My... WHAT?! Like an actual wand?!” Jon's mind raced with the possibilities, if this sent them into a reality where magic was real, maybe they didn't even have to mess with the stone, maybe he was some sort of witch-
“Hahaha, oh my god! Now I'm crying! You don't know? Jon, you're adorable! No, like a personal massager. For little massages down-”
“OKAY! I know what you mean now! You can stop!”
Taking full advantage and Jon's horror at his sister finding a sex toy, implying something he couldn't imagine himself doing, she delivered the coup de grace of embarrassment. “Will you get me one?”
With his escape to the bathroom to address the contact situation, Jon did his best to follow Zoe's advice for getting through it, to relax, become zen, stop overthinking, and let his, rather Sandra's, muscle memory take over. Zoe said it got her through cheer routines the other day and figured it must have something to do with the 'easier' wish. And right she was, where before touching his eye was shudder inducing, even with the long nails he removed one and got the other from behind his eye, added some drops, and felt restored.
Drinking in his face in the mirror, with his new cat eyed glasses hanging on his face, adding a nerdy librarian twist to his already milfy look, he pivoted to focusing on what he just pulled off. It wasn't like before, he was totally in control. Maybe that's what was easier, Sandra was just there in the background for some help here and there. Even fully taking over in the Karyn undressing situation was a great act of kindness. There's no way the male Jon who wants to date her would be able to reconcile that intimate moment, always feeling like had taken advantage of her. Instead, Sandra gave him that separation, like he wasn't even there, so he could have that moment with her in the future where she takes off her bra not to be measured but for the right reasons. Maybe the Sandra persona wasn't lurking their to take over, she was just looking out like a good mother. After all, Zoe's wish had specified 'easier for Jon', one of her better choices of words, so 'Jon' had to factor into this somewhere. Other than feeling old and even more dowdy, he was grateful for the relief this moment had given him.
Maybe on some level, he could trust whatever part of Sandra was in him. Unless it came to decorating. The 'Live Laugh Love' sign he spotted on the wall would surely need to go. Seriously, how basic was this woman?
“If you don't want me dressing like this at school, I could just not go to school you know?” Zoe began her plea, feeling like she had found a golden argument while Jon was fiddling with his frames. “That's always an option. We can just stay at home and ride this thing out. If this thing is just going to end up like a Palm Springs situation and nothing will matter, why do anything at all?”
“Palm Springs? I think you mean Groundhog Day, the movie Palm Springs ripped off. Who even says Palm Springs when referring to... you know what, that's not the point. You're going to school, I'm going to work, that's final. Doing so is going to help us learn more about the nature of your wishes, so try to take some notes on anything you notice that's odd or unusual. I know I'm going to start and you should too.”
“You want me to keep a diary?”
“Not a diary! No, just like a journal... for feelings and stuff... an emotional and spiritual catalogue... look, it's not a diary. We're being scientific.”
“So I have more homework,” Zoe grumbled. “Great. Now will you go change so we can go to school. Since this is so important to you, I'd hate to be late."
"At least put on a sweatshirt." And for the love of God, stop rolling your eyes. You're going to make me wish one goes lazy if you keep it up.
Luckily, Jon bit his tongue on that last part. This need Zoe had to challenge him on everything was cute and playful at first, but was quickly outwearing its welcome.
Huffing and puffing, out of breath, Jon knew he was making Zoe late, figuring it'd take him no time to change and put on a simple outfit, but quickly learning that nothing is simple with a pear shaped figure. First were the panties, which was uncomfortable enough peeling them off his womanhood, noticing they were a bit crusty, another gross reality of the fairer sex. As his hoo-hoo had a chance to breathe in the open air, he scoured Sandra's drawers for a sensible pair of panties, something that wasn't too girly with too much lace, or bows, or frills, something a man could proudly wear. Finally finding a sensible pair of black briefs, noticing how all his undergarments were more industrial and practical, nothing like the cute, flirty pair Zoe had on earlier.
Taking a second to chastise him for feeling upset his panties weren't cute, Jon pulled up his knickers and concluded his search had been extremely stupid. The moment the waistband snapped around his motherly hips and and the cotton fabric cupped his vulva, and the cut of the backside began to snake it's way between his blubbery cheeks, there was nothing in the world that could make him feel masculine. So much for keeping my dignity.
The jeans seemed like an obvious choice, who would argue against denim being gender neutral? The Ruben-esque curves of his exaggerated form happily took up the opposition, hugging every curve, making him feel every inch of his feminine physique as he jumped and pulled and bounced, as he tried to squeeze into those traitorous pants.
So now you go quiet Sandra! Big help you are! Why on earth do you have jeans that don't even fit? Why couldn't you at least point me in the right direction?
What Jon was so casually ignoring was the subtle little aura Sandra put around a sundress, a little nudge nudge, a very casual hint at the easiest thing to throw on in a rush, but Jon's stubbornness had won out, leaving him a bit sweaty, out of breath, and a lot of embarrassed. Jeans were supposed to be easy.
These pants looked like they could fit two of me from before and I can't even get them over my stupid, fat hiney! Why couldn't I have just been a normal mom? Why did the stupid stone make me so thick? I think I was skinnier in that stupid dream and I was pregnant then! Ugh, Sandra! Did you ever eat a salad?
When Jon re-emerged, making a bee line for the door after giving up and reluctantly making a sausage of himself in a pair of baby blue yoga pants instead, the stretchy fabric being the only material that stood a chance of containing his derrière and even they were digging into his sides, he nipped Zoe's smart remarks in the bud, casting an icy "Not a word," and death stare towards his sister.
With his purse at his side since pockets weren't, Zoe already five minutes late to the first bell, Jon turned the key to his fuel efficient coupe and started the routine drive to his high school. It wasn't until the second red light, with some of the rage towards his body and fashion dissipating, did he realize where he was going and feel the full weight and anxiety of going back to school like this.
