Mom's Paradox

  Mom’s Paradox

  Dean Wesley Smith

  Mom’s Paradox

  Copyright © 2013 by Dean Wesley Smith

  Published by WMG Publishing

  Cover Design copyright © 2013 WMG Publishing

  Cover photo copyright © 2013 Ron Chapple/Dreamstime

  “Mom’s Paradox” was first published in 2001 in a slightly different form in

  Men Writing Science Fiction As Women from DAW Books, edited by Mike Resnick and Marin H. Greenburg

  Smashwords Edition

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.

  This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.

  One

  I woke up as a woman.

  Not that I hadn’t been a woman before that morning, before feeling those cotton sheets, smelling the faint scent of John beside me, hearing him snore deeply, the vibration shaking the queen-sized bed like a distant earthquake. It seemed I had a memory of going to sleep as a woman, lying there spent, but not satisfied from the too-short love-making.

  I grew up a woman. The memories of my childhood, the pains of dating, of a first marriage, of childbirth were all there.

  Yet —

  For the first time this morning I awoke as a woman, feeling like a woman, as the sun filled the drapes with orange light. What a strange thing, to be a woman, yet have the feeling of waking up as one only this morning.

  I lay there, letting John’s snoring fill the small bedroom as I tried to place where the strange newness was coming from.

  My name was Angie Sheldon. The man shaking the bed beside me was my husband. We had two kids, both just entering high school, a nice house just outside of Denver in an upscale neighborhood, not too many bills, and a decent retirement and college account. I could honestly say I wasn’t unhappy with my marriage or with John, just not always satisfied. Yet that lack of satisfaction had never been strong enough to force me to make any changes. I loved John and my kids, so the feeling wasn’t coming from there.

  Yet I felt wonderful, freeing, almost as if I were alive for the first time just now, this morning.

  I focused on more details. I took my creative energy and drive out on my job with a law firm downtown. Both John and I were attorneys, and had met in law school. Now he worked for the District Attorney and I spent my time on business cases for the state’s third largest business law firm.

  That wasn’t it. Nothing felt right or new about the job either. It was just the job I had been doing for years.

  But still it was wonderful to wake up a woman.

  I eased over onto my side so my back was to John and stared at the dresser with the pictures of our kids, Beth and Danny. I could see them clearly in the morning light. My parents were dead, John’s parents still lived in California. Nothing there to cause this wonderful emotion of newness and happiness.

  I couldn’t remember the last time I had just stopped and looked at my life. It felt as if I was starting fresh this morning.

  Why?

  Because I am starting fresh this morning. Or actually I will be shortly.

  The other woman’s voice inside my head damned near sent me screaming from the bed. Yet somehow my muscles didn’t jerk, I didn’t even jump or move, as if I was pinned there, staring at the dresser. But inside my head I was screaming. I could feel my heart pounding, like someone trying to beat her way out of my chest.

  Calm down. This is strange enough as it is. Don’t make it worse.

  I’m dreaming. That’s it, I’m just dreaming. I had to be. I tried to calm myself with that thought.

  No, you’re not dreaming. And neither am I.

  I’m going insane!

  The panic was a giant ball in my throat. I willed myself to climb out of bed and run toward the bathroom, but my body stayed on its side beside my snoring husband. Nothing I could do seemed to make even my fingers twitch.

  You’re not insane and you can’t move because I have control of your body. And to be honest with you, it feels damned strange. I can also hear everything you think, so calm down, would you?

  I’m dreaming. I have to be dreaming.

  No, you’re not.

  I have to be, or I’m going insane. There are no other choices.

  Oh, sure there are. A ton of them, just none that you’ve thought of. And if I don’t get you moving soon, some of those choices won’t happen.

  The newness and good sensation started to drop away, leaving me empty. John had accused me of taking the joy out of just about any situation I got into, but inside I knew I wasn’t joyless. I just had a hard time letting go.

  No shit. I could give you a hundred examples on how I know that.

  I’m going insane. All I wanted to do was scream.

  Can’t you just relax and go with it? This is strange enough for me without you making it even worse.

  Now I knew I had flipped out. “Gone around the bend” as John would say. I was asking myself to relax. This was the strangest dream I had ever had.

  I give up.

  The good feeling I had woke up was now completely gone. Suddenly my body jerked into motion, climbing out of bed, shedding my cotton nightgown before I even got across the room. I just left it on the floor. I tried to stop, to pick up the nightgown, but my body was moving on its own. I wanted to scream for John to walk up and help me, but I couldn’t.

  Thank heavens for some things.

  Only on special nights, with the kids gone, had I allowed myself to be nude like this, yet now I was walking out of the bedroom in the morning light, across the hall and into the bathroom. Luckily neither of the kids were awake yet.

  Just settle back in there and relax. A little stop here to get rid of what is pressuring your bladder, then we get to the job at hand, so to speak.

  The door is open!

  As I said, settle down. What, hasn’t anyone ever seen you pee?

  No.

  Oh, man, I just could never believe you were always this uptight, but the more times I do this, the more proof I get.

  More times you do what? What is happening to me?

  Nothing you’re going to remember, so don’t sweat it. In fact, I think I’m just going to shut this conversation off for a few minutes until I get you ready.

  The blackness crept up from the corners of my mind like a curtain being drawn over everything. I fought it, but everything just got blacker. The last thought I had was that they were going to find me, nude, on the bathroom floor. How embarrassing.

  Oh, give it a rest.

  Two

  I came back to awareness looking into John’s face. I was back in bed, the bedroom door was closed, and the covers on the bed were pulled back and off.

  You’re going to have to help with some of this. I don’t really have the stomach or the inclination to watch.

  “This is a nice surprise,” John said, smiling up at me. His hands were firmly on my hips.

  At that point I realized that I was wearing my special occasion black nightgown, the one that John had bought for me just after our honeymoon. John had lost his pajama bottoms, and I was sitting on him as he moved under me.

  And inside me!

  Tell him you always liked mornings.

  I wanted to scream, yet at the same time what John was doing felt wonderful. The short love-making last night had left me wanting and excited. At least the door was closed and the children weren’t up yet. But I had no idea how I got into the black nightgown and in this position.

  Don’t question it. Just enjoy it, because I can’t watch. Sorry, too
weird.

  I should stop. This isn’t right. What is happening to me? I must be going insane. Voices inside my head telling me to seduce my husband. We have never done anything like this before.

  Or in this position.

  More information than I need.

  John moved a little faster under me. “What got into you this morning?” he asked, his voice husky from the way we were moving together.

  Let me give you just a little more help, then I’m going to shut myself out of this. I’ve had enough counseling as it is.

  Suddenly the good feeling I had when I woke up rushed back through me, pushing all my doubts, my worries away like leaves in a strong wind.

  I was a woman, making love to the man she had loved for years. It felt great.

  No better than great, it felt wonderful.

  Perfect. I’ll be back when this is over.

  I seemed to forget where I was and what I was doing.

  I wanted to forget.

  Everything I had focused on the intense sensations of John inside me, the movement of our bodies, and the pleasure of letting go and just being a woman.

  “Is it safe?” John asked, his voice low, his face beaming in the morning light.

  I didn’t answer him, and I didn’t care that it wasn’t. I just wanted to keep going, not let these feelings ever end.

  The morning seemed to vanish as everything focused down to just John and me.

  Then the release that had eluded me last night swept up over my body as I rode John, grinding down into him and forcing him to come with me.

  A few moments, maybe minutes later I collapsed beside him, not even caring that I wasn’t covered.

  “Wow,” John said between gasps.

  “Yeah,” I managed to reply.

  In all the years of being with John it had never been like that. Passion, filled with love and caring and wonderful sensations. Right at that moment I loved being a woman. And I loved being with John.

  He leaned over and kissed me, gently at first, then hard. After a few moments he pulled back and smiled. “I have no idea what caused that, but whatever it was, don’t fight it.”

  “Okay,” I said, remembering the voice I thought I had heard inside my head earlier. What had I been thinking? Maybe it all came from not being satisfied last night. Right now I felt so good I didn’t care.

  He kissed me again, then rolled away, and stood. He pulled the blankets back up over me, then grabbed his robe and headed for the bedroom door.

  I let the morning light, the wonderful afterglow of the sex, and the warm blankets lull me almost back to sleep.

  Looks like it was good for you.

  I felt so good I didn’t even care I was making up a voice in my head again.

  Now that’s the attitude, Mom. Relax. Learn how to roll with things.

  Mom! Now the panic of hearing a voice swept up over me.

  Yeah, Mom. Sorry for the slip. Thank heavens my job here is finished.

  What’s happening to me?

  Like I said, nothing that you’re going to remember. I just needed to make sure I was going to be born.

  What? Now I was screaming, but again my body wouldn’t move, and no sound came out. In the distance I could hear the shower running and John singing.

  Calm down. About six time-lines over, you and dad did that morning tango you just finished with, and got me as a little accident. I went on to be one of the major inventors of mind-jumping through time, a cheap but effective form of time travel.

  Time travel? Mind jumping? I had no idea where the voice was coming from.

  Of course you wouldn’t understand what I’m saying. You never did understand me, or how smart I was. It took me five years of counseling just to get over being an unwanted child, something you never let me forget, I might add.

  I could feel the anger boiling inside me, but I had no idea where it came from.

  My anger. Sorry.

  The feeling died away.

  Anyway, since I was born in only one time line that we explored, I decided to do the opposite of the old grandfather paradox, you know the one about going back and killing your own grandfather so you can’t exist, thus you could never go back and kill him.

  I had no idea what the voice was saying. I was going insane. I had to be.

  Figures you’d think that. Oh well, the short of it is I jumped back here, into your mind on this time line to make sure I am born. Otherwise you’d have gotten up a little while back, make breakfast, and been tense and angry all day for no reason anyone could figure out. And I would never happen in this time line, and time travel would not exist here either. Not that any of that matters to you, or that you will even remember.

  I’ve gone insane. I need help. Maybe professional help.

  No, I’m the one who is insane, for even trying to explain the reason of my existence to her mother. You’d think after all these years I’d know better.

  A feeling of disgust and anger filled me.

  Oh, sorry, my issues, not yours.

  The emotions faded quickly, again replaced with the intense joy of just being alive and satisfied.

  I’ll leave you feeling happy about the sex and not remembering anything about this conversation. That much I can do for dad. See you in about nine months. Be nice to me, would you?

  The morning sun bathed me and warmed the bedroom as I rolled over and stretched. There was a nagging feeling I had forgot something, but what did it matter? I just wish we had tried this morning sex thing years ago.

  I kicked the covers back and just lay there, exposed to the room, my black nightgown not even covering all of me. I wonder what had got into me this morning?

  Besides John that is.

  The thought had me laughing all the way to the bathroom.

  About the Author

  Bestselling author Dean Wesley Smith has written more than 100 popular novels and well over 200 published short stories. His novels include the science fiction novel Laying the Music to Rest and the thriller The Hunted as D.W. Smith. With Kristine Kathryn Rusch, he is the coauthor of The Tenth Planet trilogy and The 10th Kingdom. He writes under many pen names and has also ghosted for a number of top bestselling writers.

  Dean has also written books and comics for all three major comic book companies, Marvel, DC, and Dark Horse, and has done scripts for Hollywood. One movie was actually made.

  Over his career he has also been an editor and publisher, first at Pulphouse Publishing, then for VB Tech Journal, then for Pocket Books. He now is an executive editor of Fiction River.

  Currently, he is writing thrillers and mystery novels under another name.

 

 

  Smith, Dean Wesley, Mom's Paradox

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