✅ My Cousin's Keeper [NaNoWriMo 2021]

91. My Nostalgia

Tess was a lot happier now that she had a way to be a total baby later in the day, and I was so glad that she had managed to accept that side of herself. She was going to be wetting her diapers all evening once the trigger wore off to let her use the potty; and there was a good chance she would mess as well. She'd felt so guilty about admitting what she wanted, but there was nothing but happiness in her eyes now we had made that "deal". I knew that after today, she wouldn't even think of resisting my suggestions.

I wondered if I could convince her to release Ffrances as well, so that my girlfriend didn't need to do this with her. But I knew that was futile; Tess was still embarrassed to admit that she was really a little, and she wouldn't be quite so comfortable doing this without someone below her in the pecking order. That wasn't a good thing, and might be the start of a serious tendency to bullying as she grew up if I didn't discipline her effectively. She couldn't be allowed to get away with humiliating someone else just because she had some kind of power there. Today would be the last time, I was sure. Being treated like a baby was a seriously scary experience, and once Ffrances had been through it once she would be more willing to find other solutions. Maybe she could just pretend.

Or remove her triggers so she could say that the hypnosis just wasn't working anymore. Once I thought about it, that seemed like a really good idea. There were a lot of people who would tell you that hypnosis only works if you want it to; and I knew that there were a lot of ways around that. But it was still bound to be something that Tess had heard of. So if Ffrances found the suggestions no longer worked because she was so uncomfortable with it, it would surely draw attention to the fact that Tess's ongoing suggestibility was proof that she really wanted this. The more I could ensure that she felt like a baby, the more she would believe that her inner child needed to play. She might even be grateful to me for helping her to find her true self, and then I would have my baby for as long as I wanted.

But right now, there were much more important things to do. I sat both girls down in the lounge, and tasked Tess with making sure that her baby sister didn't fall over. Little babies need constant supervision, of course, and now that Tess had accepted the suggestions to get her really into the cartoon, there was a chance that she would start to resent being given responsibilities. She might release Ffrances of her own accord, and that would be good too.

Once they were focused on the screen, they didn't even seem to notice me leaving the room. I was glad of that; I loved Tess being my little, but it was a lot of work when she needed help with everything. While they were engrossed in their cartoons, I needed to make sure that dinner was on the way. I'd actually put it on when I was doing lunch, but there were still so many things that needed doing.

Grandma loved her Christmas dinner; for her it was more important than all the gifts and sermons, the real heart of the season. And when she managed to get a different portion of the extended family together every year I had to agree with her. I hadn't been to one of those gatherings since all the drama between me and my father, but the scenes of festive joy with so many happy people were indelibly etched in my memory. Once, we'd been told every year, Grandma had read what Dickens thought was a good Christmas dinner. A roast goose and plum pudding, which might have been the typical fare in 19th century England. And she'd decided that was what she would serve on Christmas day when she grew up. It was a tradition she never wavered from. Of course, the recipe had changed over the years, and it meant that my festive experiences were always different from my friends in school. The goose had become a duck, so much easier to obtain, and various family members had insisted on changing various details to suit their own tastes, until it had become a tradition specific to our family.

Tess wouldn't remember those meals, I was pretty sure of that. She had been six or seven years old the last time I saw her there; almost as young as she was at heart. And I had only attempted to replicate Grandma's festive opulence once, more because of a bet with my Mistress than any kind of nostalgia for those meals. But I was sure that on some subconscious level, replicating such a feast would bring Tess all the way back to her childhood, and remind her how much she had loved it. Ffrances had confirmed that smell and taste could be much more effective than other senses when it came to evoking emotional memories. A waft of perfume that some relative had once worn could bring a tidal wave of emotions with no thought of the context; and I hoped that a full meal would do even more. The best part about it was that Tess would have no idea what was influencing her; it would all seem so natural.