Grandmother, Who, Me?

"Grandmother, Who, Me?"

Chapter 3: The Spark

Shreya’s POV

Morning light filtered softly through the cotton curtains of our bedroom, painting everything in gentle gold. I lay on my side, propped up on one elbow, watching Satish sleep. He looked so peaceful, his chest rising and falling steadily, one arm flung above his head, the faded yellow blouse from last night still awkwardly buttoned over his flat chest. The petticoat had twisted around his waist during the night, and the pallu of the old saree lay crumpled near his feet like a discarded costume.

A soft laugh bubbled up inside me. Silly husband. But my heart swelled with so much love it almost hurt. How many men would dress up like a ridiculous mother-in-law just to make their pregnant wife smile? Only mine. Satish had always been like this, quietly caring, never making a big show, but always finding small ways to lift me when I felt low.

I traced a finger gently along his jawline. His face was soft, almost feminine in the morning light, clean-shaven, gentle features, long lashes. His body was lean, not overly muscular, with smooth skin and narrow shoulders. Even now, wearing my old blouse and petticoat, there was something endearing about him. Vulnerable. Sweet.

He stirred, blinking awake slowly. Those warm brown eyes focused on me and immediately crinkled with a sleepy smile.

“Good morning, di,” he mumbled, voice husky.

I couldn’t resist. I leaned closer, poking his padded chest through the blouse.

“Mother-in-law… where is your bra? You can’t go around like this. What will the neighbors say?”

Satish froze for a second, then burst out laughing. He sat up, the blouse gaping open comically at the top. “Aiyo ma! In my time, we didn’t need bras! We used cloth and dignity!”

We both dissolved into giggles. He pulled me into his arms, careful of my belly, and kissed me deeply. The laughter turned warm, affectionate. For a few minutes, the world felt light again, just us, playing like children, the pregnancy worries and family longings pushed aside.

Later, as we lay tangled in the sheets, I rested my head on his chest and whispered, half-joking, half-serious, “Only if I had a loving mother-in-law just like my loving husband… kind, caring, always there. Someone who would pamper me without making my life hell like in the movies.”

Satish stroked my hair gently. “I know, di. I wish that too.”

The moment passed, but the words stayed with me.

The day went on as usual. Satish worked on his laptop in the corner, occasionally glancing over with that caring smile. In the evening, while he was mopping the floor (he always helped with housework without being asked), my phone rang.

It was Jessica, my old college friend I hadn’t spoken to in nearly two years. She worked in… unconventional science. Underground research. Transformation technologies for role-play, medical simulations, and high-end cosmetic work. Brilliant, a little eccentric, and always on the edge of ethical boundaries.

“Shreya! Long time, no see!” Her voice was as energetic as ever. “How are you? I heard you’re pregnant, congratulations!”

We chatted for a while, catching up on life, my pregnancy, her latest projects. Then she sighed.

“Actually, I’m in a bit of a bind. I’ve developed some new techniques, advanced hormonal restructuring, temporary DNA-adjacent modifiers, neural habituation… incredible for deep role immersion. But I’m struggling to find the right candidate to test them on. Needs to be someone committed, preferably young and healthy male for the full male-to-mature-female transformation package. Age progression to around 45. Realistic body, voice, skin… the works. It’s hard to find someone willing to go that deep.”

I listened, half-distracted, watching Satish in the living room. He had tied a towel around his waist like a lungi and was mopping the floor with focused dedication, humming an old Tamil song. His slim back flexed slightly with each stroke. Sweat glistened on his skin from the effort.

A sudden, ridiculous spark ignited in my mind.

Young. Healthy male. Committed.

I looked at my husband, the man who had dressed up as a silly mother-in-law just to cheer me up. The man who would do almost anything for me.

“Umm… Jessica,” I said slowly, a strange excitement building in my chest, “I might have someone in mind.”