Mom

Matt jumped, and he was suddenly in the kitchen, his hands now feminine, cutting onions for supper. She put the knife down, turning from the counter, and realized the weight distribution in this body was wildly different than either his own or that of Mr. Phillips. He hadn't moved when he had jumped into his sister in the car, so he hadn't had the chance to move. Instinct kicked in, and she moved around the kitchen, listening for any noises in the house. The house was well built, however, and she couldn't hear anything over the soft sounds of the television in the other room.

Then a noise cut through, and Matt realized it was his dad in his study, moving the chair back from the desk. From where she had been standing, there would have been no way she could have heard the subtle noise, but here at the doorway leading to the dining room, she could manage. Matt stood there, thinking for a moment before crossing the kitchen again and picking up the knife. He had no idea if borrowed instinct would be enough to fool decades worth of intimacy that his parents shared, so she started cutting onions again, causing her eyes to water.

Out of the corner of her watering eye, she saw the patriarch of the family, Nate, peek around the door-frame. Matt started wondering if he would come into the kitchen, or turn around, but she didn't want to cause any suspicion by asking. He stood in the doorway for a long time, not moving until the last of the onion was chopped, and Matt was putting the knife down when she realized Nate...