Since I'm on the set-up committee, I don't have to stick around to put everything away. Why don't we meet at the Kozy Kitchen in a half hour. You know...where it is?"I could have backed out gracefully, but I still was, after all, flying by the seat of my emotional pants. My own decisions, my own actions, fate, and a slightly aggressive middle-aged Methodist woman had combined to create this particular crossroads of time and place. Which fork should I take? It seemed to me there couldn't be much. Certainly, she couldn't tell people what had happened to her. But so few people had known her old male self, it mightn't matter. She could live a quiet, modest existence off his savings posing as some kind of nurse in his house. She'd need a whole new wardrobe, which would be expensive... but might be a little fun. Suppressing a giggle, she pondered the queer joy of shopping for skirts, blouses, dresses, and dainty underthings. What had seemed so implausible now appeared oddly enticing.. More

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