The doorbell caught my attention instantly. I put down the book I'd been idly leafing through, and hurried to let our guests in. I wasn't entirely surprised to see that they had all arrived together; Serena was attending some big business conference in Sinhapur, and although she'd left her cars behind, Marcie didn't have the confidence to try driving them. They'd asked Mum and Dad to give them a lift, which I thought made perfect sense.
I smiled as everybody said variations on "Hi" at about the same time. Dad looked a little grumpy, and was wearing a suit that wouldn't have looked out of place in any lawyer's office. Not fancy, but formal. I couldn't guess what had upset him today; I might have hoped he would be happy to see me again. But I guessed that he felt like chauffeuring Marcie and Eli to my place felt too much like grunt work, especially when Cecilia and Walt had both jumped at the chance to ride with Mum.
Mum, on the other hand, was wearing one of her fanciest silk dresses and grinning from ear to ear; an expression that I was almost certain hadn't been diminished by the detour to Serena's place. She'd always been disappointed that we couldn't afford to maintain two cars, and felt like she couldn't really enjoy driving in the succession of functional runabouts that Dad had chosen. These days she was driving the customised sportscar that had formerly belonged to Todd Becker; and I could tell she enjoyed it a whole lot more.
Marcie was smiling too, dressed up like a princess. I didn't know for sure, but thought that she was probably trying out the outfit Serena's tailors had made her for the graduation ball. She looked stunning; and I was sure that when it came to the ball everybody there would be jealous of Eli. Who was standing there with one arm across Marcie's shoulders, smiling proudly in a check shirt and tan jeans that also looked brand new.
"Marcie," I said, "Eli. Great to see you both." This time, I didn't have to catch myself at the last minute to keep from saying 'Ellie'. It had taken nearly six weeks, but I was finally getting used to using the right name pronouns. Somehow, being pretty close only made it harder when I wasn't paying attention. I shook his hand and leaned in to hug Marcie, and then hugged both of them tightly. They were still some of my best friends, even if the long ordeal of high school was over. And hosting my first dinner party didn't mean I had to be extra formal all the time.
"You're doing well for yourself," Mum said, looking around the house again. "Business doing well?"
"Not so bad," I said, laughing just a little. It had turned out surprisingly easy to take over Becker's little empire. Almost all of the pharmacists on his staff were fully qualified, and they were quite capable of doing their jobs without supervision. Some of them even had ideas to increase productivity, now that they weren't under the thumb of a micromanaging dictator. "The shop pretty much runs itself. My job's just going through the records, trying to work out who else he's been doing shady stuff with, and deciding how much compensation they deserve."
"You shouldn't be doing that," Dad said, repeating something he'd said every time we met him recently. "The victim can't be impartial."
"I'm not judging him for what he did to me," I said with a shrug. "I'm determining the punishment for breaching the HumiliX code of conduct. And I can be an independent arbiter for breach of contract, because I didn't sign that contract and I don't work for HumiliX or Becker. Taking over his business is just an administrative convenience to prevent him hiding misdealings; and taking over his house and cars is a happy accident because he registered them as pure business assets."
"Well, that car is the business," Mum said with a laugh. "I can't imagine Todd Becker needing a company car, though. Did he even do any work?"
"Well, I think that..." I started, and then hesitated for a second. The first tingle of pressure from my bladder; a sensation I was having to get used to again. Even after getting the antidote, it would take time for my muscles to recover their previous strength; so I didn't want to leave it too long. I hastily continued: "I'll be back in a second. Clint! Can you offer everybody drinks?"
I could hear Mum expressing concern as I scurried out of the room. She lowered her voice so that I couldn't hear her words, but I could still understand the tone. And I knew that Dad wouldn't try so hard to avoid hurting my feelings; he said that I'd gotten the antidote and I should be back to normal, no matter how many times I tried to explain that sometimes things might need a little time to go back to normal. He was always insistent, and sure he knew best how everyone should deal with their problems. But that was common for a lot of men in his generation; and I knew that he really cared about me. His only problem was that he really didn't believe his views could be wrong, so he'd keep on trying to "help" whether I wanted it or not. And I gathered that was a problem a lot of parents shared.
The rest of the evening went well enough. There was small talk around the dining table; and nobody complained too much about our proficiency (or lack thereof) in cooking a proper family dinner. It was still weird having a house to myself; and I was slowly getting used to not having parents there to remind me about things that needed doing. But I thought that as far as cooking and cleaning went, I was slowly getting used to being a homeowner.
Of course the conversation around the big table kept on coming back to the current location of the house's former occupants. Todd Becker had finally exhausted the supply of good will that allowed him to keep couch surfing without any ability to pay his way; and he was now resident in a bunk at the local homeless shelter. His gang apparently thought this was funny; he still tried to hang around with them, but it was clear he was just the butt of their jokes; especially when the Punishment Pill caused random bouts of incontinence. I was able to keep tabs on his progress, because he was emailing with some regularity to tell me that he would do so much for me if I just gave him the antidote; or to threaten retribution when his dad was finally out of jail.
That day probably wasn't coming any time soon. Becker's sentence was contingent on him paying compensation to the people he had hurt first; and there were at least eleven victims I had been able to identify. I always fastidiously entered the profits from the shop into a ledger, to be offset against what he owed, but at the current rate it would take nearly sixty years for him to pay his debt. Some day, I was sure, I would feel charitable and allow him his own antidote, so that he could participate in the prison workforce instead of lying in a padded cell babbling and filling his diapers. That would help him get a few dollars closer to release as well; but I wasn't kind enough to give him that freedom just yet.
Marcie reported back that she'd been to visit her mother in jail as well. I hadn't actually expected that to happen, but when Mrs Miller heard that Eli was a boy now she'd immediately tried to sue them for custody of Cecilia; and part of her evidence packet had included records showing she had bribed a pharmacist to give Marcie the punishment pill, when she didn't actually meet the criteria. The police had done the rest, without any input from us. I felt kind of bad for her; jails were so bad now that nobody deserved to be inside for life, but child abuse was one crime that didn't allow any leniency. She'd sealed her own fate.
Eventually all the serious conversations faded away and we were just talking about TV again. When it came to dessert, even Dad couldn't fault my cooking. I could be proud of that, even if most of it had been strictly following recipes from a book. And then we were shaking hands and hugging everybody, and wishing them a safe or fun journey home depending on which parent they were riding with.
"You did well," Clint said, with a broad smile.
"You did most of the cooking," I said. "You should get the credit."
"Your house, your party." That was right, too. Technically Clint wasn't supposed to be living with me yet. I kept forgetting that he was actually younger than me, and would still be considered a minor in other jurisdictions. A little age difference could be a big thing. But at least by the time I was ready to apply to university again, we could decide what to do together.
"Your house too," I said with a smile. "Maybe not on the paperwork, but you spend more nights here than at your parents' place now. Or you go to practise on your board, and you're here when I'm still not fully awake."
"The benefits of living like two minutes away from my girlfriend," he said with a shrug. "I guess being in the shadow of Becker's gang had a good side."
"Maybe. But this is your place whenever you want it. In my heart, as well. If you still want me, now that you know how the different sides of me are coming together without the drugs affecting things."
"You're the girl I always liked," he said. "I don't expect you to be a saint. It's more fun this way."
"Yeah," I said with a grin. "The saint would never..." I was just reaching for the drinks cabinet door again. I'd already had a couple of glasses of wine over dinner, but I was sure he knew I was reaching for a couple of bottles of skim that were hidden at the back of the cupboard. For occasional use, when we both thought it would be fun to feel more and think less for a short while. But this time, before I could pick one up, the call of nature demanded my attention again. I made a quick excuse and took a step towards the bathroom, only to find my bladder still hadn't recovered all its strength. I cursed under my breath, and Clint came forward to put his arms around me.
Ten minutes later we were back in the spare bedroom, where the stuff piled up on the desk made it look more like some kind of nursery. Clint changed my diaper quickly and without fuss, and I reminded myself again how lucky I was to have a guy who would be there for me even through this.
"You'll get over it soon," he said. He always did, and I knew that I was getting better. It had been more than a week since my last accident this time, but my body still hadn't quite recovered.
"I know. But you know what? There's a part of me that will miss it. It's kind of... intimate, you know? Having you here to help me like this. I mean, it's not like... you know... intimate intimate, but..."
"Not sexual, you mean?" He said with a smile. "Yeah. I can understand that. I mean, for most people these days, casual sex is just a thing. You can do it without any kind of emotional connection. But I can't imagine many people being close like this unless there's something real between them."
"Yeah," I said with a smile. "Actually, I was muttering how frustrated I was last week, and Eli's mum said something kind of like that. About how anything could be comforting if you look at it in the right way. Maybe she was right. Maybe that's what Serena gets out of it."
"I'm amazed she still hasn't got the antidote."
"Yeah. She finally got the courage to tell her daddy she likes it, and he gave up trying to organise something different." Then I hesitated for a second: "I wouldn't want something like that. It would be too much. But maybe occasionally, once in a while, we could kind of pretend that this whole... thing isn't over yet? Would that be weird?"
"Yeah," he said. "I think that's really weird. And maybe a great idea, too. I mean, it's our lives, right? So who says we have to do what our parents think is normal. If you want me to keep on changing you occasionally, then I'd love to do it. Like I'm the responsible one for a change. But you know, I might sometimes be tempted..."
The antibacterial wipes he'd been cleaning my skin with were cold; but his fingertips were warm. And said a whole lot more than confused words ever could.
I knew that whatever happened now, the future was something I could only look forward to.