Jess paced nervously through the store, holding Macy tightly against her hip as the girl softly babbled nonsense and occasionally giggled. Her bonnet was askew, her pink dress crumpled slightly from crawling, and her legs dangled lazily. Jess looked around desperately, unsure of what to do. Something was wrong—very wrong.
“Macy, come on, say something real. Snap out of it…” Jess whispered. But Macy just smiled, drooled, and patted Jess’s cheek with a chubby little hand.
That’s when Jess felt it—wet warmth against her arm.
“Oh no…”
Macy had wet herself. Jess could feel the damp spot growing where the toddler-sized girl was resting against her side. She winced. “Okay. Okay. Don’t panic. Just... figure this out.”
Without thinking, Jess adjusted Macy gently in her arms and started walking briskly through the mall, her eyes scanning for some kind of baby supply store or family restroom. Her thoughts, once panicked, started narrowing, focusing entirely on Macy’s comfort.
She muttered to herself, “Need wipes. Diapers. Clean clothes... maybe a bottle or sippy cup...”
Ten minutes ago, she was a teenage boy. Now she was scanning racks for baby onesies and toddler pull-ups like it was second nature.
She found a specialty boutique: “Little Sprouts”, and practically stormed inside. A clerk blinked at her as she asked, “Do you have changing tables? I... my daughter had a little accident.”
Daughter?
The word slipped out so naturally that Jess didn’t even catch it. The clerk nodded and pointed to the back, and Jess rushed toward it.
Inside the private changing area, Jess laid Macy down carefully. The girl giggled and kicked her feet lazily. Jess should have been disgusted or embarrassed—hell, she should have been freaking out. But instead, she carefully cleaned Macy up with baby wipes from a complimentary dispenser, humming softly as if she’d done this before.
“There we go… all clean, sweetheart,” she murmured as she slid on a fresh pull-up and helped Macy back into her frilly dress.
Macy cooed and wrapped her arms around Jess's neck, murmuring “Mamaaaa…” in a sleepy voice.
Jess lifted her up again, heart unexpectedly swelling.
Something was wrong—very wrong—but… not unpleasant. She felt calm. Protective. Responsible. Like this was her role. Jess adjusted the pacifier Macy had dropped and kissed the top of her head without thinking.
“Shhh, it’s okay baby girl, Mama’s got you.”
She blinked at her own words. What the hell am I saying...?
But when she looked down and saw Macy smiling, cheeks rosy, Jess smiled back… not as a confused teen, but as a proud young mother comforting her child
By the time Jess stepped back into her house, Macy bundled in her arms and a pastel diaper bag slung over her shoulder, she looked every bit the seasoned young mom. Her hair was slightly frazzled, her yellow hoodie spotted from a spilled bottle, and her steps were careful but fluid—balanced for the weight of the child she cradled effortlessly against her hip.
She didn’t even hesitate as she nudged the front door closed with her foot and made a soft shh-shh noise to soothe Macy, who had started to fuss.
“It’s okay, sweetheart, we’re home now. Mama’s got you,” she whispered, kissing Macy’s forehead with a calm confidence that would have startled the Jeff of just hours ago.
The house felt unfamiliar in the vaguest way, like visiting somewhere she hadn’t been in a while, but Jess didn’t question it. She moved through the living room with purpose, humming gently as she laid Macy down on the couch and began rummaging through the diaper bag for a toy or pacifier.
She found one—a soft stuffed rabbit with a ribbon around its neck—and placed it in Macy’s lap.
“There we go, my little angel. Play with your bunny while Mommy gets dinner started, okay?”
Mommy.
The word barely registered. She said it with the kind of ease that suggested years of repetition.
In the kitchen, she started making a bottle—formula, warm water, a few shakes—her hands moved instinctively. She didn’t even remember buying the bottle or the formula, but it was there, like it had always been. Just like the pink bib draped over her shoulder and the baby gate at the bottom of the stairs.
She didn’t stop to wonder when that got installed.
Instead, she peeked into the living room. Macy was lying on her side now, eyes fluttering sleepily as she clutched the bunny. Jess felt her heart melt, warm and full.
She whispered softly, “You’re such a good girl today. You make Mommy so proud.”
She didn’t even notice the framed photo on the mantle—Jess, in a soft maternity gown, holding a newborn Macy. It hadn’t been there this morning. Or yesterday. But now it sat there like it had always belonged.
Later that evening, Jess gave Macy a warm bath, dried her hair with a plush towel, and tucked her into bed with a lullaby. She smoothed back her dark bangs and sat beside her long after the little one had fallen asleep, her fingers brushing Macy’s tiny hand like she was afraid to let go.
In the soft glow of the nightlight, Jess whispered to herself, “I don’t know how I ever lived without you…”
The memories of being Jeff—of being a boy, of pranking his friend, of resisting his mom’s punishment—had become like a dream after waking. Blurry. Distant. Unimportant.
Because here, now, she wasn’t just Jess.
She was Mommy.
And that was everything.