Though my area (bedroom and adjoining bathroom) were already done, the rest of the house was bare and empty. An empty nest waiting for new inhabitants. Though I could still feel hatred inside me for Sully - for the cruel way he'd destroyed me and stolen my beautiful fiancée - I felt perversely proud and honored that he'd entrust the care and maintenance of this beautiful house to me. I waddled slowly through the house, looking at the beautiful hardwood floors and high ceilings. The patio opened onto a screened swimming pool and a high-fenced backyard. The neighborhood was nice, and I knew I could never have given Susan a home as wonderful as this...
(Don't think that! You were a collage educated man! Only 25 years old, and working at UPS only temporally! That last morning you'd received word that you'd been accepted at...at...Where? I'd studied...something at collage. And I'd just been told that my application had been accepted...at...)
My head throbbed, and I massaged my temples, certain that I was forgetting something important. That worried me, and as I usually did when something made me unhappy...I ignored it. Instead, I continued from room to room and made a mental list of what needed to be done. I never even considered writing the list down, as I knew I was functionally illiterate. After all, I'd dropped out after repeating the 9th grade for three years running, and had been in special ed classes the whole time. I was very stupid...
(Collage! Graduated with honors!)
...and could only print my name in block letters with difficulty.
The rest of the day was spent sweeping and mopping the floors in preparation for the painters tomorrow, and cleaning the kitchen and bathrooms. On my hands and knees - with my massive belly and gargantuan breasts pressed against the floor - I scrubbed the bathroom tiles and shower walls, then the kitchen counters. After awhile, I hardly noticed the wobbling and jiggling of my huge body as I scrubbed. In fact, it soon seemed so natural that the motion was actually pleasant. It was known. It was familiar. It was comfortable.
Days passed, and that was my life. I worked every day while wearing my (beautiful/perfect) uniform, and when I'd check my appearance in the mirror...I'd see my name stitched into the fabric of my right bodice ('Beulah') and soon...I was unable to clearly remember what my name HAD been when I was a man. The only name that came to mind now, was 'Beulah Brown'. Once the painters came, they saw my name on my bodice and called me "Beulah" as well, and when I'd make them lunch and check on their work, they'd say "Thanks Beulah. You're jus' a big, ol' mother hen, ain't you?" and I'd laugh.
It was true. As the days passed, I fell deeper and deeper into my 'Beulah Brown' life and personality. After the painters left, I scrubbed the floors again and waxed the hardwoods and tiles till they gleamed. Then the movers came, and again I looked after them as they moved furniture into the home. I sent various boxes too various rooms, then once the movers had placed the furniture in the rooms (at my direction and just as Sully told me), I began to put everything away. I lingered over Susan's stuff (no pictures of me anymore) and was again amazed at what a wonderful girl she was. No wonder I'd loved her. No wonder I STILL loved her.
Sully stopped by with more groceries a week later, and he checked out what had been done. Obviously pleased, he helped me restock the pantry and fridge before he gave me a kiss on the cheek and said "I just wanted you to know, Beulah...Susan and I are to be married soon. We'll hold the wedding here, and you wont be serving the guests. Susan wanted me to invite you to be one of her Maids of Honor. Isn't that nice, and rather ironic? I'm having your dress - the Maids of Honor will be wearing lavender - delivered tomorrow. Then, after the wedding, you'll continue preparing the house and I and my new wife will be jetting off on our honeymoon. Understand?"
I nodded, feeling delighted that Susan wanted a fat, old domestic to be by her side when she took Sully's hand in marriage, but also near tears at the thought of being there. I know I'll cry. I'll cry because she should have been my wife.
Seeing my distress, Sully gently brushes my tears away, and kisses me on the cheek. Instantly, I feel better...like he understands my pain and sympathizes with me. I forget for a moment that he's the wellspring of all my misery, and I hug him with a motherly tenderness. Motherly. Is that why he's made these specific changes to me? I know he has an Aunt named Kim, but I suddenly remember that his mother died when he was young. Even greater sympathy wells up in me, and (HE'S STOLEN YOUR SUSAN! HE'S RUINED YOUR LIFE! HE'S TAKEN 25 YEARS FROM YOU!) I gather him if my big, soft arms and rock him tenderly, crooning "You jus' such a good boy, Sully. You an' Susan gonna be real happy together. I'm jus' so happy that you an' her wan' me to be at yo' wedding!"
When we pull away, I can see a satisfied smile on his face. A smile that says "I WIN!" loud and clear. But...I also see that he's blinking back tears of his own, and I know I'm right. Part of my transformation involved turning me into his very own non-threatening, fantasy mother-figure. I suddenly know what his favorite foods are, and I intend to cook them for him as often as he wants.
("Bastard! Bastard! You've twisted me like a fucking rag doll!") I want to scream it in his face!
"Don' you worry 'bout nothin', Mista Sully..." I say instead "...everythin's gonna be jus' fine, you jus' wait an' see."