** 3 **

Outside I heard them returning, Dad was speaking to Benny. "...I don't want to see you messing around with the water, not until this drought has busted. We don't need to be wasting any because we'll probably need it ourselves before long. If that dog of yours wants any, he's going to have to stop licking the spigot!" He began up the steps and paused, turning back toward the boy, "If I have to, I'll shut the dang thing off and only turn it on when we need it!" I turned toward them as they entered, "You all done?"

"Everything's been watered...including the boy." He took his kerchief and wiped the sweat from his forehead. "The boy seems hell-bent on wasting what little water we have in our cistern!" After several seconds of scowling at Benny he sighed and ruffled his grandson's hair, then turned to me. "Are you about ready to go?”

"I’m just finishing the last of the dishes. I'll put them away and we can go whenever you're ready," I said as I picked the last plate out of the sink and began to dry it.

"Now Nicole, if you'll excuse me, I'll clean myself up and put on something decent." He pushed one suspender off his shoulder as he was leaving the kitchen.

"I think you should be taking his example and getting that dirt washed off...clean clothes would be a real good idea," I replied, making a quick examination of my son. The thought seemed strange to claim this boy as my own, yet, he could be no other and it would seem this was the life I'd been saddled with by the Guardians.

"Aw Mom," he grumbled and headed out of the kitchen as if he were on his way to the gallows.

I smiled, "Don't you...Aw Mom me little one! I'm still the boss around here with your father away!"

As I put the dishes into the cupboard, I couldn't help but reflect on our most recent exchange. It was almost as though I had been in this body forever, in the way I responded to him. It got me to wondering if, when I found the Guardian's blasted faith, love and whatever...would they return me to my old form? "God I hope so!" I said softly.

By the time I had readied myself...my gentlemen were already waiting. Ben was wearing lightweight shorts and a nice button down cotton shirt; his recently cut hair was parted to the side. John also had a short sleeve shirt; however he was also wearing long pants and suspenders with no tie. I had a feeling that with John, this was about as dressed up as he got.

As for myself, I wore a simple blue summer dress that ended just below the knee, and the blue earrings I was wearing when I first arrived into this body. My feet were perched upon stylish black pumps, while a beautiful wide brimmed hat protected my delicate feminine skin from the sun.

"Well, well Nicole!" John said smiling, "It's been quite awhile since I've been seen around the town next to a pretty girl."

"Thank you," I replied, "so, do I need my purse for anything?"

"I've got it covered. Besides, I thought we agreed it'd be my treat?" He gave a wink to Benny and smiled. "My lady, the chariot a-waits." Then he motioned to Benny, "Good sir, can you catch the door?"

"Why you talkin' so funny, Grandpa?"

"Just grab the door kid," John said with a laugh. As Benny swung the door open, John led me through like I was a regal princess. Down the steps and toward the drive we headed, finally pausing before our "chariot".

When I had been a man, one of my favorite pastimes was spent in our local transportation museum, drooling over the antique cars. While I still appreciated them since being transported into this body, the luster that I once held for them had dimmed slightly. My mind told me that this was a late twenty's Studebaker...though the woman in me cared little what it was, her only desire was that it got us from point A to point B.

What was left of the old me still admired what I could see, the tan paint still had a shine, the deep black fenders and running boards set off the light color of the car's body. It had four doors, the back two opening in the opposite direction of the front. Somehow the words "suicide doors" popped into my head, but I couldn't actually place why.

"Am I driving?" I asked my escort as Benny opened the back door and vaulted inside from the running board.

John laughed as he herded me toward the passenger side, "Maybe IF and WHEN I show you how."

"It's nothing, I can do it," I replied as he waited for me to seat myself inside. The oldest car had driven was a 2005 Mustang, that particular car had been an automatic...this however should prove to be no problem, especially since my former self was very proficient with shifting manual transmissions as well.

"Next time," he said as he closed the door. Absentmindedly, I reached back over my right shoulder and realized that it was still some residue of my former self searching for a life belt device, there were very few cars, equipped with life saving straps during the 1940's. So to cover, awkwardly looked over my right shoulder and spoke to Benny as he was hanging half in, half out of the window. I reminded him that a good passenger would remain seated and not be sticking his hands out the window.

"Aw, Mom," he grumbled, pulling his hand inside and sitting down on the huge rear seat.

I waited as John walked along the long hood, past the wheel mounted on the fender, then finally made his way to his door. "Just so you know, I CAN drive this car," I said as he scooted behind the large wheel.

"You can't even steer the Farmall, what makes you think I'm going to let you drive my car!" he said with a laugh that made me frown back my response. "Besides, you've already told me that you can't shift the gears."

"I did?" I asked, not really sure what our previous conversations had been prior to me becoming Nicole.

"Of course you did!" He shook his head and pushed the starter button, the big eight cylinder roared to life.

As he drove, I sat quietly fuming for being treated like some helpless female...even though I may resemble one; I hated being treated like one.

As we rolled through the countryside, I took notice of the withered fields as we passed. The beans and corn seemed to be either dead or dying where they stood, great gaping dried cracks, lined between each row.

"Sure is hot..," I said softly, "...and dry!"

"That's for sure," he said, leaving the dusty trail behind us as he guided us onto a paved road. Ahead, was a sign pointing toward the town. "I haven't seen it this dry since when Agnes and I moved out here in the early thirties. That was a hellishly dry period too."

"Grandpa cussed!" the young voice from the back seat chided; I glanced back and nodded, agreeing with the tot.

Not really knowing what else to say, I continued with our topic of the weather. "Do you think if it rained, it'd be too late for the crops?"

"Six of one, half dozen of the other..," he said with a sigh. "Lord knows we need the moisture." He stared at the creek as we passed over it. The once wide banks had become nothing more than a trickle of water.

From the look on his face, I could tell he was in deep thought. "That leaky pump of ours is bleeding the cistern dry of water, I think I'll be turning off the water going to the outside pump until after the drought is broken."

"What about our animals?" Benny asked from the backseat.

"I can turn it on long enough to do our chores, but it'll be turned off for the rest of the time...that is, until I can fix that leak."

I glanced back to watch my son; he nodded innocently, and then continued to stare out the window. We drove on for several quiet miles where nothing was said.

I studied my father-in-law as he shifted gears, slowing down, going into a sharp turn. "I can do that..." I mumbled to myself.

He heard me and laughed. I gave him a sideways glance and frowned.

It was so strange to me as we passed other vehicles leaving the sprawling little town, each one either close to the vintage of the one we were in, some even newer. I saw Plymouth's, Chevrolet's and even a couple of trucks...all between the late twenties and some brand new...up to around 1940 or 1941. There was even one model-T driven by an ancient couple which John beeped at, then roared past, only giving a nod to as we motored on into town.

We parked along the street and I opened my door, a passing man tipped his hat at me. The very act, made me feel utterly foolish. He even paused long enough to open my door and offer me his hand, under the circumstances; I was hesitant on what I should do. Eventually, I took it and climbed out, thanked him and waited beside Benny. The man tipped his hat, turned then continued along his way.

Without really noticing, I realized that Benny was holding onto my hand while we waited for his grandpa to come join us on the sidewalk.

John motioned toward the front of the theater, pausing and opening the door for our entry into their grand lobby. "Two adults and one for the boy. We're seeing The Canterville Ghost." John said, purchasing our tickets.

The attendant pushed the tickets through the hole in the bottom of the glass. "Thank you," John said to the fellow behind the glass, as he then directed me toward a second set of theater doors.

Together we entered the lobby, as we did, I have to admit that I felt excited to be in a place that during my time I could only have dreamed being in. Bright colorful lights strobe gleefully around each coming attraction. There was a hint of popcorn smell in the air.

Straight to the candy counter we headed, Benny drug me along, until he could press his face against the glass. "I want that one...and that one...one of those...and..."

"Just how much money do you think I have?" his grandfather joked.

"Just one item Benny," I said softly into his ear.

"And popcorn?" He asked, pointing to a Milky Way bar, and then looking from me to his grandfather.

"And popcorn," his grandfather said to the young man behind the counter.

I carried the popcorn for Benny as we walked down the sloped aisle to find a seat. It wasn't long after we arrived, the house lights dimmed and the room became bathed in darkness. On the great screen before us, a newsreel of war footage flickered to life. I found that for some strange reason, I couldn't watch, preferring to look away as they began showing a great sea battle on the large screen.

"These war reels don't last long..." John whispered over Benny, his eyes showed concern for me.

"I'm fine..." I whispered back.

I tried to stay, but a strange dread enveloped me, my hands shook and after only five minutes of the newsreel. I quickly stood.

"Nicole? You okay?" John glanced up at me quickly.

"I need some air...I'll be okay." I stepped into the aisle and made my way back into the lobby.

"You leaving, ma'am?" the usher asked as he shined his flashlight toward the door.

"Just until the news reel is over." I pushed aside the door and stood in the lobby, leaning against a wall trying to collect myself.

"You too?" an elderly woman asked aloud, her soft voice caused me to look up.

I nodded. "My husband is somewhere in Germany. The pain I feel for all of the young men...makes it hard to watch the newsreels." I spoke those words, felt her fear...yet really knew nothing about Nicole's husband. The words just spilled out of this beautiful mouth of mine...hers.

"I know what you mean." The woman looked sadly away. "I lost my eldest at Pearl, my youngest, his brother...is somewhere in Africa."

"I'm truly sorry for your loss." I felt a pang of pain, my eyes stung with tears. She saw my torment and came and stood beside me.

She gave me a motherly hug, "Thank you, it does mean a lot."

How a woman who had lost one of her own, a child that she brought life to, take his death so peacefully? I thought of Benny, even thrust into this life...I knew she would die were she to lose him. "You...you seem to accept your son's death so easily?"

She smiled, "It wasn't always that way." She gently comforted me with a caress of my back. "I shrank back into a shell for almost a year. I knew Keith had wanted to be in the Navy more than anything...he knew that there was always a chance for bad things to happen, when you're in the military." She grew quiet for a moment. "He was on the deck of his ship when the attack came."

I stood looking eye to eye with the young man's mother, she seemed so strong to me. "I don't think I could have handled what you went through."

"...But I did. And you will too." She patted my hand and smiled, "Your young man will come home someday. You'll be doing something and look up...and there he'll be."

"I wish I could be as sure as you are," I replied, unbelieving those words came so effortlessly from my lips. As if I actually had been born into the life of the woman I've become...and with such little effort, was seemingly hoping to meet my husband once again.

"It's never an easy life as a soldier, but deep down I feel that it'll all work out for you!" She gave my hand a squeeze. "He's missing you as badly as you are him...take solace in that."

I found myself nodding in agreement. I was thankful that I had been able to talk to her; she gave me a completely new outlook on my own situation. Because of her, I was able to look at things much differently...if she could summon her inner strength, so could I. Confidently; I stood, raising myself up mentally as she did. I vowed that from this day forward, if I was to be stuck as this woman; I'd be a strong woman.

At the very moment of my personal epiphany, the door swung open and the usher stuck his head out, "Newsreel's over."

She placed her arm around my slender shoulder, and gave me a gentle squeeze. "Let’s go back inside and try to forget this war for an hour or two."

I nodded and even though I smiled, I was wiping tears as we returned to the darkened theater.

Trying to forget the war and watch The Canterville Ghost would be like going to the beach and sit facing away from the ocean. You still hear the surf, the seagulls...even though you can't see it; you know that it's there. The entire movie seemed based around the war. True, it was funny and I did really enjoy myself, laughing demurely at all the right moments. Even though I appeared to enjoy the movie, I was actually thankful when Benny needed to use the facilities somewhere during the climax of the movie, and I heartily volunteered to take him.

Being in this body was driven home when he stopped me outside the "Men's" restroom door, which almost absentmindedly, I was about to enter. "You can't come in here, Mom. Girls aren't allowed."

Embarrassed, I stayed at the entrance doorway and studied several movie posters hanging on the wall as I waited for him to finish up. It was an odd feeling no longer being welcome in a restroom, which I had actively participated in for almost thirty years! Finally, he walked out and took my hand; his touch startled me as I had been intently studying one poster.

"All done?" I asked.

"Yep."

"Did you wash?" I asked, studying his face. His eyes, which had been looking at me, quickly darted away. For some strange reason; call it motherly intuition; I knew that he was fibbing to me. "Back inside and wash!" I scolded, then found my own way into the "Woman's room to wash my own hand after he had held it."

It was a very strange experience for me, being in a restroom created only for women. In fact, there was one other young girl in the room reapplying her lipstick. I ignored her as best as I could, washed and dried my hands. As I was leaving, I met Benny coming out of the restroom at the same time.

"Can I get a soda?" he asked softly.

"I don't have any money," I replied. "If you think you need one so bad, you could ask your Grandpa."

He thought for a few seconds, "No thanks."

I smiled inwardly; I knew that he was afraid of what his grandfather would tell him. Nothing else was said as we returned to our seats.

I sat with my legs crossed, my dress slid up slightly with the movement. The soft glow from the screen illuminated the litheness of my slender thighs. Even the reflection of the polish upon my fingernails, screamed that I was now a female. I nervously adjusted the hem of my dress, pulling it over my knee then found myself checking on Benny. His gaze held fixed upon the screen, totally immersed in the picture, the soft glow illuminating his face.

Again my mind returned to the sentence of the Guardians. Did the woman whose body I am in, find herself locked inside of my form? Is she also wrestling with the formatting of my life? Would I ever realize what they meant about Faith, Love and Trust?

Suddenly, a very loud explosion brought me back to the movie. On the screen, Robert Young was facing The Canterville Ghost. The movie was about to end and I couldn't really recall paying much attention to it.

As it thankfully came to a close and the credits began rolling, we stood up. "Are we going back home?" Benny asked.

"I was wondering, how about that ice cream?" John asked, the question was asked of Benny, but he was looking directly toward me. "It’ll be my treat."

"ICE CREAM!!" Benny squealed.

I nodded, "Something cold before we return home would be nice."

"There's a little place just down the street we can go to," he said as he ushered me on up the aisle and through the doors, out into the lobby.

As we stepped outside, the sun was lower in the sky...but it was still quite hot. We walked down the street and turned inside of a pharmacy. At the end of the room lined a row of tall chairs before a long table that faced a window.

"Mount up boy," John said as he hoisted Benny to the tall seat. "What will it be?"

"Chocolate cone!" he said in a singsong voice.

He spoke to the youth behind the counter, A Chocolate for the boy..." He looked at me.

"I'm fine," I said.

"The lady will have a Vanilla cone with sprinkles." He smiled at me, "Thought I'd have forgotten, didn't you?"

"Can I have sprinkles?" Benny asked his grandpa.

"Both with sprinkles...and I'll have a plain bowl of Vanilla." He pulled out his wallet and placed two dollars on the counter.

I went ahead and took a seat next to my son while Dad picked up his change from the counter and brought Benny and I our cones. He returned and carried his back to the table by the window, placing his on the other side of his grandson.

The cone was very good...and extremely cold. Almost as soon as I began eating it, my arms were washed with goose bumps. But that paled in comparison with the strange stiffness of my nipples, secured in place behind my brassiere. They felt as though they were growing, erecting themselves into tiny little towers upon my chest. I carefully placed my arm against my bust, trying to warm both as I hurriedly finished my cone.

It was a strange, and totally unexpected experience, and one that I did not welcome! I ate what I could, what I couldn't...Benny ate. Thankfully, we returned to the warmth of the car and Benny and I climbed inside.

"Goose-bumps?" John laughed climbing inside, watching me try to warm my arms as he closed his door. "Figures, only a woman could have goose-flesh on one of the hottest days of the year!"

"It was cold," I whined pathetically.

"That's probably where it got the "ICE" part of ice cream!" he said with a laugh as he pushed in the starter button.

We exited the town and turned back onto our little dirt road. After a few minutes, we rolled to a stop and he shut off the car.

"What's wrong?" I asked, suddenly becoming aware that we had stopped.

"So you think you can drive my Studebaker?" He smiled. "It's time to find out what you're made of."

"Okay...okay then." I nodded. "I'll show you that I know what I'm doing."

He stepped out and closed the driver's door, leaning into the window he smiled. "Scoot across...it's pretty hard to drive from the passenger side."

"I know that!" I grumbled and gently slid across the seat as he laughed, coming back around to the passenger side."

As he was closing his door, Benny realized that I was seated behind the wheel. "Grandpa, is mommy going to crash us?"

I squinted over my shoulder angrily at him and he scooted to the back of the seat. All of this only made John laugh harder. "Okay, since you know what to do...how about you showing me?"

I pressed the starter only to have the car lurch forward. "Forgot something?" he said with a smirk.

"This pedal..." I pressed the clutch down but was unable to go all the way to the floor since I seemed to have lost several inches during the transformation.

I scooted forward and pushed it to the floor, then pressed the starter. The engine cranked over, then roared to life. Coupled with being shorter, my leg no longer had the strength in it to hold the clutch in for any great length of time. I began to tremble, a strange fearfulness washed over me. Doubt percolated toward the surface...was I sure I could drive? How much did I actually remember of my old life had been replaced. How much of Nicole's had taken over?

Inwardly, I wanted to scream! "How could I have forgotten how to drive? I couldn't seem to remember to work both my feet in unison to make a simple car like this go...was it impossible to absorb so much of the real Nicole that it outweighed my male mind?" My thoughts raced as much as the engine did.

"Back off the gas some, let out the clutch...no, NO...The left pedal!" John directed, pointing to my feet.

"I'm trying!" I snapped back in confusion, but still the engine raced.

"Well then, do it..." He suggested smugly.

More so for my transformed mind I asked him once again, "I...I let this out and press this thing at the same time." Even though I thought I knew...I still came across sounding like a naive schoolgirl, during her first driving lesson.

"That thing is called the gas pedal; now let it up some! You're racing the engine too much." He pointed to the far right pedal again.

During the melee, a soft voice came from the back seat, "Are we going to die, Grandpa?"

The engine began to race as the car jerked forward, I thought I knew what I was doing, but something had been lost since the transformation of me to Nicole! I no longer could recall how to shift, let alone hold the heavy car on the road with my much weaker muscles. We began sputtering down the gravel road, the car swaying from side to side.

"You got to shift into second!" he barked, "push in the clutch!"

I pressed in the clutch, which brought the car to a sliding stop, killing the engine during the process. He covered his face with his hands, sat and laughed for a few seconds, "Not as easy as you thought...is it? By the way Nicole, that was the break you pushed," he said amid his breaks of snickering and outright laughter.

I threw open my door and stormed around the car, standing outside of the passenger window, in near tears I stammered. "M...move back over...you're driving!"

"Nope. You said you could drive...get yourself back over there and drive us home!" He folded his arms on the window body and smiled. "Got to learn sooner or later! If this was a horse and it just threw you, I'd tell you to get back on. So...mount up!"

I was fuming as I stomped my way back around the car, climbing once again behind the steering wheel. He laughed hard for almost a full minute before he pulled the gearshift back into neutral.

Normally, it would have taken him about ten minutes to get home...it took me a half hour. I killed the car so many times I was afraid of ruining it. The big Studebaker was so heavy; it took about all I had to keep it on the road. By the time we pulled in to the drive, I felt as though I was doing well enough to be considered dangerous. With a prayer of thanks and a sigh of relief, I shut off the engine and rested my head against the huge steering wheel. Tears welled into my eyes.

"Well, that was an adventure!" He laughed and popped open his door. "Come on Benny ol boy, we'll hurry up and change, then we can do our evening chores."

I sat quietly inside the car drying my eyes as they walked toward the house, after a few steps, John turned around, "You coming?"

I said nothing, slowly the door swung out and I stepped onto the running board and into the driveway. My knees felt weak, my hands were still shaking as I closed the door and began my trek into the house. At the front door I was met by one of the friendlier cats on the farm. "I'm not so sure I'll be ready to do that again all too soon!" I sighed as I bent down to scratch the little tabby's ear, and then stepped into the house to begin working on supper.

I couldn't believe what I was feeling! I'd driven a stick shift hundreds of times, not once did I ever encounter the trouble I had during that one short drive. My stomach was in knots, my heart was still pounding and my hands were clammy. My residual memories should have seen me through the task without any effort at all!

I pulled down a glass and removed the iced tea from the refrigerator, carefully pouring it half full and trying to avoid spilling it onto the counter because of my trembling hands.

After several minutes, my nerves calmed and I no longer felt as though I would cry. I heard the screen door open and looked back over my shoulder, it was my father-in-law.

"You okay?" he asked as he slowly stepped around the table. I could only nod my response. "Everybody has a rough go at it the first time around."

I turned to him, the words hung in my throat. I wanted to tell him that my mind was in such a great turmoil...that I HAD driven a manual transmission many times...and not once did I have the problems I had today. But I shook it off and sighed, "I drove horribly..."

"You should've seen the Missus...now that was a sight!" He laughed and stole my cup of tea, taking a sip then handing it back. "She only had two forward gears...with no clutch...you had three in the deal INCLUDING the clutch!" He began jerking his body back and forth as he imitated his ride with his late wife. His carrying on did make me laugh.

I gave him a hug, "Thanks Dad..."

He shrugged, "So...when you're ready again, you'll come see me?"

I shrugged, "I'm not sure I'll ever be ready."

"Sure you will." He chided me with a wave of his hand. "Maybe when Blaine gets back, he can trade in the Plymouth for one of those automatic transmissions. You'll learn when it's not so complicated."

He glanced out the window toward the barn. "Well...I guess I'd better be checking up on the boy, he and that dog of his are supposed to be moving the cows toward the back pasture." He started for the door and paused. "You sure you'll be okay?"

"I'm sure...thanks." He gave me a quick wink and headed outside. I laughed to myself as I pulled my apron down and began to work on a quick supper.

I prepared our meal, which would consist of strawberries I had frozen back in the spring, and a cake I prepared early this morning while it was still cool. Just right for a hot day like today!

When the guys came in to eat, nothing more was said about my driving. I had a suspicion that Dad had said something to Benny because several times they would exchange glances. We ate the strawberry shortcake quietly and washed it down with iced tea. We had finished early and by 6:00 pm, both Dad and Benny had already retreated to the living room. I busied myself with the dishes and went to join them as soon as I had finished.

** 4 **

Our evening ended simply enough, I would imagine it wound down much like hundreds of thousands of other families across America. We settled down in the living room, with John in the big chair, me in the rocker. Benny stretched out on the floor, elbows bent, his head propped in his hands. Dad tuned the big Zenith radio on to a serial program and we enjoyed two hours of laughter and suspense, of course that depending which of the four programs we were listening to at the time.

At 8:00 I herded Benny into the bathroom for a bath, due to the drought, I only let him fill the tub with three inches of water. Three inches of water wasn't much, as far as bathwater was concerned, but at least he would be clean without much drain from our depleted cistern.

As he bathed, I returned to the living room and divided my attention to him and a music program. I found myself stitching up a pocket where John had accidentally caught it on the gate latch. It was rather strange to never have picked up a needle and thread before, yet somehow know what to do and how to do it without really thinking. I wondered how much of this woman's life I would absorb, before I would be able to return to my old life?

After several minutes I sat aside my sewing and returned to the bath so I could get Benny off to bed. Making sure he washed behind his ears, I examined him and gave his cleanliness my "motherly" stamp of approval. Gathering his towel up in my hands, I turned my head, held it for him and waited until he stepped out onto the rug, "Dry off and get ready for bed."

"Can I listen to some more...?" he began.

I cut him off, calmly reminding him, "All I want you to be doing is shuffling off to bed. Little boys need to get plenty of sleep!"

He grew quiet, "Mom."

"Yes Benny," I said as I dried his hair with another towel.

"Do you think Daddy still remembers me?" His question came right out of the blue; I straightened myself up in surprise.

"Of course he does!" I gently took hold of his chin, making him look up at me, "Your father loves you very much, he would never forget you! Why would you be asking a question like that?"

He looked away; he appeared almost ashamed to say. "It's been so long since I saw Daddy...I...I can't even remember what he looked like."

I scooped him up and walked into my bedroom, there on the dresser was a picture of Blaine in his uniform. It was good, but not my favorite one of his...at least the memory I was absorbing seemed to think.

"You can have this photo of Daddy until he comes home. Put it beside your bed, always know that he loves you and will come home someday soon."

Benny reached out and gently pulled the picture closer, "Is that what you do, Mommy?"

"I...I have my memories," I replied, knowing that with each moment I was in this body, it became more and more true. "Besides, I have the photo on my nightstand to see at night."

He looked toward the nightstand at it, I sat him down on the bed so he could see his father's other picture closer "I like that one better, Daddy's smiling in it."

"You don't like the one I gave you?" I asked, sitting down with him on the bed.

"I like it...he's in his Uni..uni..." he said thoughtfully.

"Uniform," I replied softly.

"Yeah. But, he's smiling in your picture," Benny said as he touched his father's mouth on the photo.

"Tell you what, you take the soldier picture of Daddy...and I'll get you a copy made of my picture. That way, both of us will have one of Daddy smiling." I gave him a hug, "How's that?"

"What about Grandpa?" He asked.

"We'll get one for Grandpa too!" I said with a smile.

"Okay. Can we surprise him?" he asked, "His birthday is coming up soon."

For some reason, August 21st jumped into my head. "It'll be our secret, but don't say a word."

He smiled and made a locking motion against his lips.

"That's my boy," I said as I hugged him tightly, "Okay, we've dawdled long enough, get your picture of Daddy and it's off to bed for you!"

"I can do it myself," he said as he dropped his feet onto the floor.

"Don't forget to say good-night to Grandpa before you turn in." I reminded him, sounding much like this was a daily conversation between us.

"I won't." As he rounded the bed he paused with his father's photo. "Mom?"

"Yes honey?"

"I'll take care of Daddy's picture for you. Okay?" He reassured me innocently.

"I know you will..." I began softly as my voice trailed away. With that, he disappeared into the hallway. My gaze returned to the smiling image still on the nightstand. "Good-night Blaine my love." I sighed, even before it registered inside my mind, I had placed a kiss on the photo.

I sat the photo back and in stunned silence, also got myself ready for bed. Occasionally, I would return my gaze to the image of my husband, perplexed at the slow transformation of my mind. "My God, what will be next?" I whispered as I began unbuttoning my dress.

A nightgown was lying along the end of the bed; I picked it up and without really much thought, began to put it on. I was slipping on a robe when my eye caught the reflection of myself in the vanity mirror. Normally, had I spied this woman on the street, there would have been some sort of natural arousal within me...even a completely innocent interest would have bubbled to the surface. But now, since the verdict of the Guardians...I felt nothing sexual for the woman I had become...absolutely nothing.

I sighed, "That's not entirely true..." I whispered to myself as I wrestled with my own thoughts. While it was true that the intensely sexual feeling I once had for the female form was gone, now it had been replaced with a slow inner desire to attract, of all things...men. I shuddered at the thought, but it was the old me that seemed so distracted by it. I was in a quandary, do I fight the odd feelings that seemed to permeate this body, or just accept her feelings as my own?

I sighed and sought out my slippers from under the bed, finding only one I crouched down and fished my hand out into the darkness. I kept working myself along the bed, knowing that the mate should be near the other when my hand came into contact with a great piece of cloth.

Dragging it out, I realized that it was a dark blue robe; with it rolled out the missing slipper. I tossed the robe on the bed and pushed my other foot into the illusive shoe.

Once again, that strange call that seemed to have become part of the new me, began to rear its head once again. Cleanliness was a new trait in me; it seemed to grow more and more each minute I was here. I picked up the robe and shook it fiercely, trying to knock loose the dust from its surface. As I gently folded it, I realized that it must have been Blaine's robe and had fallen from the bedpost at one time or another. I reverently held it and stood quietly looking at his picture, tears welling into the corners of my eyes.

I bent my head down and cried into the soft material, not sure if all of what was happening was causing me to lose my mind. I dried my tears on the robe's sleeve, hesitating at a familiar scent.

"Aftershave?" I whispered in shock. "It's Blaine's!" Again I inhaled deeply the masculine scent of my husbands aftershave, it was like ambrosia to my soul. I found myself smiling, the smell allowing this trapped woman's mind of mine, to relive happier times. I straightened up, and gently laid the robe on "his" side of the bed.

With a quick backwards glance at Blaine's photo, I smiled and quietly walked out of the room. I don't know what actually happened while I was in that room, but I felt as though I had crossed some sort of great divide...a divide I needed to penetrate to become one with Nicole.

As I returned to the living room, I should have felt some embarrassment at being seen in my nightgown and robe, especially in front of my father-in-law. But his reaction seemed as if it were a common occurrence. I sat down on the couch, as I did, John looked over at me.

"I heard you two talking in the room..." He forced a smile. "I'll not say anything to the boy."

"Thanks Dad." I turned a lamp on between us. "He just misses Blaine so much."

"We all do." He looked away quickly; he had tears in his eyes.

"He'll be alright," I said, placing my hand on his.

"I know." He wiped his eyes. "I just hate seeing you and the boy having to deal with everything on the farm with my boy being gone."

"We're not alone," I reminded him.

He nodded and gave me a crooked smile. "I know that too."

He gave me a toothy grin, I think more to change the subject for fear of it becoming a crying session for the both of us. "You did pretty well today with the Studebaker...for a first time. I told Benny to lay low at supper."

I laughed, "I thought so..." I replied, and then added, "Too bad for the car though, I probably ruined it."

"If Agnes could get the hang of it, I figure you can too," he said with a hearty laugh. "Once you get it down...I guess for now, Blaine's Plymouth will be a piece of cake."

I frowned slightly, trying to use Nicole's memories to jog my mind. "Why is that? Did Blaine tell you something that I don't know?" I replied, hoping that he would say something to remind me.

He laughed, "You've always been a bit nervous to drive it...heck the Plymouth hasn't moved a lick since Blaine left. Yeah...I guess he did mention something about you stalling it a few times when he tried to show you how to drive it."

"I'm not afraid of it if that's what you're thinking!" I felt as though I had been insulted in a backhanded sort of way, it got my dander up.

"Oh no...Being afraid isn't what I'm getting at, Nicole...you know danged well that the Plymouth is Blaine's pride and joy!"

I still fought frantically, trying to remember his car, something kept me thinking that it was parked in one of our barns or sheds...but I couldn't be certain. "Blaine's pride and joy is some old car?" I frowned, "I thought his family was his pride and joy!"

"Oh his family surely is...but the two of you, saving up for almost four years to buy yourselves a car...that Plymouth is it!" He smiled in a teasing way, "None of us had ever seen a brand spanking new car...it still looks the same as the day you picked it out on the lot!"

I rolled my eyes at him causing the man to laugh. "Oh come on, Nicole...not everyone has a 41 Plymouth in their barn. With the war on, who knows when they'll be back making new ones?"

I shook my head sadly, the words coming out before I realized what I was saying. "What is it with you men and your cars?"

He laughed and reached across and patted my hand. "Being a woman...you'll probably never know."

I sat quietly mulling over his comment, it wasn't totally true...I had been a man and could still remember my head turning for more than one rolling beauty...but now, I felt some sort of disconnection with the luster of an automobile. I sighed to myself in confused frustration and picked at the doily under my arm. To me now, to this body I have somehow become attached to...an auto is nothing more than a means to get you from point A to point B. I sighed, knowing that I'd probably never again feel that exhilaration at the power of a great vehicle.

As we sat there quietly listening to the radio, Benny walked into the room. "Good night, Grandpa!" He hugged his grandfather tightly. "I love you."

He leaned over to me and hugged me as well, "Good night, Mommy...I love you too!"

"I love you too, Honey," I whispered into his ear. As we parted I kissed him on the cheek, both Dad and I stood up.

"Off to bed already? Well, I'll see you bright and early, Ben ol boy!" Grandpa called out to him as he began to leave, jostling his hair at the same time.

Ben paused at his father's picture, "Good night, Daddy. I love you too!" He kissed his fingers and stretched to touch the cheek of his father, a cry caught in my throat, tears flooded my eyes making the room suddenly blur as our son began his climb up the stairs to bed.

"That's some young man you and Blaine are growing there," Dad said as he looked back toward me. "Aw...honey." He sighed, seeing me bawling. He gathered me into a comforting, fatherly embrace. I could say nothing as the tears flooded down upon my cheeks.