I wake up in the guest bedroom sore; Zoe owes me for making me sleep down here. Still, I’m feeling better than I have any day since my husband’s death. The pain is still there, but …

Wait, what?

I mentally check myself. I remember Jordan going to sleep in the guest bedroom, but I’m also thinking of Josh as my husband. That’s… different.

I stand up and feel a shooting pain in my foot. Damnit, still? I walk to the bathroom and grab a pair of tweezers. This time I can see the splinter – a tiny fragment of blue glass embedded in my foot. I’m able to pull it out. I notice that my hands and feet are manicured and pedicured. I reach up to my chest and feel breasts, to my head and feel a full head of long hair. I look in the mirror – I’m back to being Jordyn. But more than that, I know that I’m back to being Jordyn. I can remember being Jordan – both during my childhood and over the last couple days – and while I’m not remembering the false memories of Jordyn’s youth, I remember the time from the wish to Josh’s death as Jordyn would. For the first time, I have a complete and accurate memory of my life.

I take a selfie with my phone and send it to my kids. Sam responds with a text: Bad hair day today, Mom? I wonder to what extent they remember the days I just spent as Jordan until my phone rings with Zoe’s call and her excited squeal nearly deafens me. Then I remember that Sam inherited Josh’s dry sense of humor.

I hear footsteps thundering above me. Zoe runs into the room at top speed and gives me a hug big enough that I wonder how long I can hold my breath. I turn it into a competition by giving my baby an equally big hug. Sam comes down as well, although at a normal walking pace, and joins in the family hug.

We talk about what might have happened as I make us breakfast. I mention the splinter of blue glass, and Zoe runs upstairs to check on the stone from the pendant. We hear her yell, “BLUE!” and see it for ourselves when she brings it downstairs. We call Terry to get his thoughts, and to let him know that our meeting today won’t go the way we’d originally planned.

Between the four of us, our best guess is that because my wish for the Sam and Zoe to have their mother back was similar to the original wish, but focused on different people and a different relationship, the magic did the best it could to do both – it made me Jordyn again, but the part of Jordyn that was Sam and Zoe’s mother more than the part that was in love with Josh. It left my love and appreciation for my husband, but dampened the longing that followed his death to make me a better parent than I had been in the days following Josh’s death. That changed focus changed the gem’s color. What this means for me if Sam or Zoe dies, we didn’t know, but we’re choosing not to dwell on a scenario that requires my children to die before me.

Unfortunately, Jordan’s disappearance also means my claim to his family’s estate also disappears. Obviously, it would have been nice to have access to that money, but we built a good life without it and we can continue to have a good life without it.

Sam and Zoe call their girlfriends, and we have them over for lunch. They both seem happy to have “Mom” back, especially Carina. I take a close look at Sam and Sarah with new eyes – I remember both Jordyn thinking Sarah was too attached to Sam and Sam telling Jordan he was only dating Sarah for her car – and hope he can find a way to let her down that hurt her too badly. Carina and Zoe, on the other hand, are still in the double glow of “being in a new relationship” and “having their families accept who they love”, and it gives me one of the warmest feelings a mother can have.

After lunch, a spontaneous cooperative game day breaks out. We try Spirit Island again, and send the French packing this time. We take on the roles of superheroes and act as Sentinels of the Multiverse, defending Rook City from Grand Warlord Voss. Finally, in a situation possibly a little too on the nose, I take the role of a ghost and give paranormal investigators clues to the identity of my murderer in Mysterium.

Dinner follows games, and afterward, I ask Sarah and Carina if they can give us a mom-and-kids movie night. They agree and head home, and I let the kids argue over what to watch while I make popcorn. In the end, they can’t agree and I convince them to try 10 Things I Hate About You. It doesn’t speak perfectly to their generation, but teen comedy based on Shakespeare doesn’t going to miss completely with 15-year-olds, and watching them react to just how young Joseph Gordon-Levitt and Julia Stiles are is very funny to me.

Throughout the movie, I see Zoe on her phone, texting furiously and making some interesting facial reactions to what she sees. She shows Sam some of what she’s doing, but every time I try to peek, she moves the phone away from me. I know teenagers like their secrets, and phones during movies is normal in 2024, but it irks the part of me that is Jordan; he’s still used to 2005 sensibilities.

After the film, Zoe asks me if she can show me something. I agree. She holds her phone close to her and says, “Do you remember how Carina is getting into jewelry design?” I nod. “Well, I gave her the stone from the wishing pendant and asked her if she could design something for you. I know you gave it to me, but that was when you were Jordan, and now that you’re Mom again, I felt like I should give it back…” She shows me her phone.

My jaw drops. Carina has designed a necklace with translucent light blue script – probably glass or crystal - outlined in white gold. The script contains an oddly shaped fifth letter that could be either a “y” or an “a” to make the necklace simultaneously spell “Jordyn” and “Jordan”. The darker blue stone from the pendant is placed in the center of the “o”.

“Zoe, this is absolutely stunning. Are you sure this is what you want to do with that stone? I know I gave it to you when I wasn’t planning to wear jewelry anymore, but it’s still yours.”

Sam cuts in. “Mom, we’re sure. This is yours, from your whole family. First from Jordan, then from Dad, now from us.”

I tear up and hug my children. “Don’t go anywhere; there’s something I need to share with you.” I come back with a bottle of wine and three glasses. I pour a normal amount – maybe a little more than a normal amount – into one glass, and a couple ounces into each of the other glasses.

Zoe and Sam stare at me. “Mom, we’re fifteen.”

I shrug. “That’s almost the drinking age in Germany. Besides, this wine is important, and now seems like the right time for it.” I show them the label. “This was a wedding gift from Terry. It’s the exact vintage and year that your father and I shared on our first date – really, my first alcoholic drink that wasn’t beer, although I didn’t know that then.” I put the bottle down on the table. “He said that it was for a special occasion, and that we’d know when it was for. I was going to share it with him when his swallowing fully recovered after his stroke, but that never happened. So now, I’m going to share it with the family I have left, on the first day of our new and unique family.” I raise my glass in a toast. They do the same, and we all take a sip.

Zoe puts her glass down. “Mom, what’s it like, having memories of being two different people?”

“It’s a little weird, but the memories line up in time, so I can make sense of it. There are some parts of it that don’t quite fit together – like Jordan and Jordyn lost their virginities at different ages so I remember both times.” I blush a little at that. “It’s also weird to remember Jordan’s parents so clearly for nineteen years, then just having them gone from my life after that. But given how weird the last couple weeks have been, I assume that will smooth out eventually too.” I hug both my children and kiss them on the top of their heads, which is much easier to do to Zoe than Sam. “But now it’s late, and you two just had a drink; you should probably head to bed.”

As my children go upstairs, I refill my wine and think for a moment. What’s coming next is important, and I want to make sure I do it respectfully.

When I’m ready, I whisper to myself a combination of affirmation, toast, and eulogy: My name is Jordyn Bradford, and it has taken me nineteen years to realize that I am not without parents. I am the daughter of two men, Jordan Jameson and Joshua Bradford, whose wishes brought them together and me into existence. I toast them now, thank them for my existence and the existence of my children, and I wish them peace in their departure from this Earth.

I take a sip of my wine and relax, reflecting on and appreciating my family.