It had been about six months since I graduated from Willows. The girls and I were close, hanging out a couple times a month at least. I had even gotten to know those who had graduated before I joined like Snow, Aurora and Pocahontas. Bonding with Elsa was a given since Anna and I saw each other almost every day even after graduation.
I was officially out to all of them. In more ways than one. Yes, as a lesbian, which understandably everone was cool with. I definitely wasn't the only one. LGBT representation in the media is complete and utter bullshit. They'll put one gay person in each friendgroup when in reality, I sometimes feel like I've gone days without seeing a single straight person.
They all also knew about me being intersex. It had to happen eventually. Especially because it got to a point where the gym class before us had swimming so the showers were always too wet to change in. At first, Anna offered to stand in front of me so that I could change without any prying eyes, but there was no use delaying the inevitable when they were going to find out anyway. They were all incredibly supportive. In hindsight, I don't know why I was so afraid to tell them. Cass was right. People are more accepting now. It's 2033 after all.
Anna was true to her word in terms of organising a small graduation trip for us. Mom and I were due to fly off to Norway with her and her family in two days for a joint family Christmas vacation. It was a little bit of a mad scramble as I had to work with Mom to get all my official documents together and apply for an official passport which granted international travel. It arrived just in time for the trip.
Speaking of Mom, our relationship was good. Really good despite nearly two decades of separation. Originally, I expected it to be strained, especially since we both had such strong personalities, but that wasn't the case at all. She was always ready to talk to me about anything and everything, even if it would have been considered taboo for mother and daughter to talk about. Mom was especially open about relationships and topics of sex. While it was weird for me at first, I eventually warmed up to the idea. School's sex ed classes were entirely focused on abstinence, but Mom's conversations created a safe space for me where I could ask things without fear of judgement.
If you had asked me two years ago, I would have never imagined this is where I would be. Living with a beautiful, kind and creative artist who I loved with every fibre of my being. In a mother daughter way. Clearly.
The thought had crossed my mind occasionally. As a joke at first. I didn't seem to be getting anywhere in terms of finding myself in a relationship. I was perfectly content for the time being. While Mom had mentioned chatting to people online here and there, she never really had anyone to show for it. I wanted to think that she wasn't too disappointed about it though. She was attractive and had an amazing personality, so I guessed it was just her not really being interested in other women. Mom would constantly say that I was the only girl she needed in her life and I didn't want to pressure her into anything. She was beautiful and every once and a while, I had thought about what could happen if we decided to make our relationship something… more.
I knew incest relationships existed somewhere out there, in secret. People wrote about them online all the time. The idea of being in a relationship with someone who already knew you inside and out, knew your biggest strengths, your greatest weaknesses, who would love you completely and entirely unconditionally seemed so idealistic.
Those thoughts just skyrocketed every time we were physically close. Like the time there was an accident in the studio and a can of paint fell off one of the shelves, not hitting me but coating me in a bright yellow hue. I was sitting in the shower in my boxers while Mom helped me wash off what had soaked through the back of my shirt. Her hands rubbed soap into my back, diligently scrubbing away until not a speck of the colour was left on me. It was so intimate, but I chided myself for thinking that way. I tried to, anyway. Or the time Mom insisted we watch all eight Harry Potter movies at once, but of course, she couldn't stay up for nearly twenty hours straight, so she fell asleep, her head resting on my shoulder. The way she nuzzled closer to me, the scent of her sweet smelling perfume filling my nostrils, I had to keep reminding myself it was my mom and not a girlfriend. I couldn't reach out to stroke her cheek or turn to pepper her head with little kisses.
No matter how much I may have wanted to.
But no. No way. Because A: no way Mom would be cool with that. I was her daughter, she was my mother. That was that. And B: that would be taking our taboo conversations to a whole new level, a level I was sure she wouldn't want to cross. Of course, I never took these thoughts seriously. I would never. It certainly wasn't a romantic attraction I had towards my mom. Just my hormones raging for physical intimacy. Nothing more. And nothing serious.
Right?
I stepped out of the shower that afternoon, one towel wrapped around my body while the other had my hair in that towel tornado thing that the men on the internet are incapable of understanding. My hair had begun to grow back after the Incident (I referred to it as Incident with a capital 'I'), but I decided to keep it short, taking back a little bit of control. I cut it every few months and wore my brunette hair with pride. While the blonde shade was nice, it wasn't missed as I got more comfortable in my own skin. It was just a reminder of my life before which I'd much rather forget.
Safe in my room, I closed the curtains before stripping myself of my towel. Making sure every bit of me was bone dry, I put it aside and rummaged through my closet, trying to coordinate an outfit to wear to meet the girls from Willows for a small reunion. I nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard the door open.
"Rapunzel, honey, are you-" Mom stopped in her tracks when she realised the position she had found me in. Every inch of me was entirely out in the open. Including my penis.
Mom had seen my body before, of course, but that was back when I was a baby. I had grown considerably since then. When living with her, she had occasionally seen the top half of my body, particularly when asking me to try on something she had bought for me, but never anything from the waist down. I didn't want to make her uncomfortable in any way, even though I knew she wouldn't be. At least, I hoped so.
On the other hand, Mom had always been very open about her body. Never ashamed of it. Not to the point that it was inappropriate, but whenever we went out to the coast, it was nearly a given that she'd be sporting a very flattering bikini or something similar. And whenever she got paint on one of her shirts in the studio (for some unspoken reason, she has a personal vendetta against aprons), she wouldn't be shy to toss it off and slip on a clean one even if I was in the room. Heck, even I'd walked in on her changing before. But instead of frantically chasing me out, she just stepped behind her closet door and let me continue with what I wanted to ask her. Probably unaware of the fact that I could see her in the mirror opposite her.
For a moment, neither of us moved. I think we were too stunned to do so. The one thing that did move were Mom's eyes, sweeping me up and down. Call me crazy, but I swear I saw her gaze stop specifically between my legs. Did she just lick her lips?
"Mother! Naked! Changing!" I yelled, finding my voice and trying to cover myself with my hands with minimal success due to my size. Not bragging, just facts.
"Sorry sorry sorry…" she apologised, finally snapping out of her daze long enough to back away and close the door behind her.
Welp, I guess that gets the cliche of 'parents walking in on you while changing' out of the way. If anything, I should have considered it a milestone.
So… that just happened. Did she really stare for that long intentionally? Nah, it can't be. It was just an honest mistake. Mom would have no reason to look for that long.
Trying to shake off the incident, I changed as quickly as I could, throwing on a pair of panties instead of my regular boxer briefs in my rush. On top of that, I wore a simple long purple dress, not bothering to layer so much since we would be staying at Ariel's anyway. My winter coat was long so it wouldn't be too much of a problem. The bike ride wasn't that long anyway.
Sitting myself on the edge of my bed to towel dry my hair, I heard a soft knock at my door.
"Are you decent?"
I rolled my eyes a little. "Yes, Mom, I'm decent. You can come in."
She opened the door and came in, shutting it behind her before sitting on the edge of my bed.
"Sorry you had to see that," I said sheepishly.
Mom scoffed. "Please, don't worry about it. It's me who should be sorry, I should have knocked first. And besides, it's nothing I've never seen before."
"Yeah, when I was like, less than a year old."
"Honey, it's okay. We're both adults and I know what a penis looks like. Remember, I was married to your father once."
"Well, I guess that makes us even then," I joked, trying to lighten the mood. "What were you going to find me about anyway?"
"Oh yeah! I wanted to ask what your plan is for today. I know you said you're meeting the girls at Ariel's, but what time?"
"Um… I'm leaving soon. Gonna bike over with Elsa and Anna. They're going to come and meet me and we'll make our way there together."
"Okay. Standard curfew, nothing new. Be home by ten."
"Ten?" I whined.
"Ten." she repeated.
"Ten thirty?" I asked hopefully.
"Ten."
"Ten fifteen."
"Ten or you're not going."
I puffed my cheeks full of air and stuck out my bottom lip. "You're no fun."
Mom giggled, giving me a kiss on the cheek. "Love you too, sweetie. And we're going to have plenty of fun on this trip to Norway. I've been once with Iduna and her girls a few years ago. I'm sure you'll love it." She got up, ruffling my hair affectionately. "I need to go into town to pick up some new snow boots. Do you need anything?"
"I'm good for now."
"Alright, then. I expect that you'll be gone by the time I get back so lock the doors behind you when you leave. See you tonight at ten o'clock sharp, no later. Love you."
"Love you too!" I called after her as she slipped on her thick winter coat and left for town.
Once my hair was relatively dry, I got my things together, wrestling my coat from the closet near the door. Ariel said there would be alcohol since most of us were of age (those who weren't would remain sober or face eviction from the party) so I threw in some tylenol for anyone who might get a headache from our activities. Anna told me she and Elsa would be here at around four, so I still had fifteen minutes to relax.
Just then, I remembered the thing Mom had told me a few days ago. "Remember to help me bring the pouch with the bracelet in it to pass to Athena. It's a blue drawstring pouch embroidered with a conch shell. You'll find it in my wardrobe, on the left, second drawer."
Damn it. I was supposed to have taken it by then but just kept forgetting. At least I remembered before I had left.
I went into Mom's room and opened her wardrobe. There were drawers in a four by five formation that came up to about my waist. Above those, Mom's dresses were hanging from a horizontal pole of metal mounted into the wood.
On the left… second drawer…
It then occurred to me that Mom's instructions couldn't have been any less clear.
On the left of where? Second from the left? The top? The bottom? God damn it, why do I never ask follow up questions?
I settled for a more methodical approach. All the drawers, from left to right, top to bottom. It wouldn't take that long, right?
First drawer, top left. Looked like exercise clothes, rolled up Nike shirts of every colour neatly packed into the small space. Nope. Second from the top. Socks and stockings. Mom and I shared an appreciation for cute socks of all different designs. A new pair caught my eye, dark purple with bicycle doodles, the wheels a multitude of colours. But I couldn't afford to get distracted. Nope. Second from the bottom. Oh boy. Yup. That's underwear. Panties, bras, the works. Even some lingerie? I didn't stare too long to find out, not wanting to pry too much. The pouch certainly wouldn't be in there. Bottom drawer. I tugged on the handle but it seemed like something inside had gotten stuck, making it hard to open. Come… on… you… stupid… drawer… woah!
Nope nope nope nope nope nope nope nope. I closed the drawer so hard it slammed. I was definitely not meant to see that. Inside that drawer were what I assumed were Mom's sex toys. No, not assumed. They had to be. I was looking in her wardrobe after all. I didn't look too long to see what exactly they were, only long enough to know roughly what was in there before moving swiftly on.
Passports and social security cards. Nope. Scarves and shawls. Nope. Winter gloves and hair accessories. Nope. Top drawer, second to the left. Bingo.
Inside this drawer were many smaller boxes, compartmentalising its contents. It looked to be Mom's jewellery. Beautiful pearls and other intricate treasures sparkled in the sunlight shining through the drawn back curtains. Rings, necklaces, pendants, earrings, bracelets, anklets, everything. Some looked thicker, made up of chains or beads while others looked like they could string around your neck so finely, like the web of a spider. In the corner of the drawer was the pouch I needed. Navy blue, made of silk, intricately embroidered in white and beige to form the picture of a conch shell.
I grabbed it, closed the drawer and turned with the intention to leave when something tugged at the back of my mind. It was like the cliché of having an angel version of yourself on one shoulder and a devil version on the other.
Look in the drawer.
We shouldn't. That's Mom's private stuff.
If it was so private, she would have locked it.
There's no way she intended for us to see that.
But now that we have, it wouldn't hurt to take a closer look.
Isn't that an invasion of privacy?
Mom is always open when it comes to talking about sex. Why is this suddenly so taboo?
Because there's a difference between talking about something and snooping through her drawer of sex toys while she's out of the house. Don't do it.
What she doesn't know won't hurt her. It wouldn't do anybody any harm. We should take it as a… learning experience.
My hand worked on its own, reaching for the same handle on the bottom drawer, tugging until it's contents became dislodged. The angel on my shoulder was practically ripping my hair out trying to get me to move but I had gone too far to stop.
The things that took up the most space were a rather large purple dildo. The surface looked detailed, like the designer intended to mimic a real experience. I could see bumps and ridges in the silicone, almost like real veins. To its left, there was a strap I assumed came with the toy. For a moment, I paused to wonder if Mom had ever had the chance to use it on anyone, before hastily pushing the thought away. If anything, it would have been while I was out of the house. I hadn't met anyone Mom had brought home yet, if she ever had.
There was also a vibrator, a matching purple shade. One of those magic wand type deals, what looked to me like the world's more perverted microphone. The buttons on the side showed me that there were a bunch of different settings and speeds, but I didn't stop to inspect them too quickly. I wouldn't be able to understand the symbols without a manual anyway.
Finally, there was a small bottle of lube. Oil based. It looked relatively fancy, the bottle clear and made of glass with cursive gold writing. Mom didn't seem like the type to buy something that looked so expensive. Maybe it was a gift from a friend as a joke? The bottle said it was cherry flavoured, which brought a smile to my face. Mom hates cherry flavoured things. Definitely a gag gift.
Again, my fingers worked on their own accord, going forward to reach into the drawer. What I was even reaching for, I didn't know. Not like I could have used anything in there on myself anyway. But before my fingertips could make contact, I heard the doorbell ring once. Then again. And again. And again.
Anna has no patience.
"Coming in a second!" I yelled hastily, hoping they could hear me from outside. Quickly, I shut the drawer, trying to erase any trace of me ever being there, before shutting the wardrobe itself and rushing to the front door, grabbing my bag on the way and slipping the conch shell pouch inside. I didn't go through that whole search only to forget it.
"Sorry! I had to look for something for my mom," I said apologetically, wrestling myself into my coat as the cold winter air hit my skin.
Elsa looked at me with a raised eyebrow, noticing my outfit. She and Anna were both in jeans and long sleeved shirts with thick winter coats on top. "Are you sure you'll be warm enough in that?" she asked, her voice dripping with skepticism.
"I'll be fine," I said with a wave of my hand, trying to hide the mild chattering of my teeth. To be truthful, it was freezing, but the bike ride would be short, my coat was long, and I had to get used to the cold anyway. Norway would be far worse, so I might as well train myself now. Locking the door behind me, I turned to join them. "Let's go."
A/N - Hello lovelies! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. The next will bring us back to the opening lines of the story, back where it all started, so be on the lookout for that. Until then, stay safe and wear a mask :)
