This is the story of how James helped his sister into a whole new life for him.

Foxy Lady
by
Paula Dillon

The salon doors opened and an elegant, but cutting edge, woman entered. She was well endowed; average plus in height (about five foot eight); slender waist; and small, but shapely hips. The woman glided in on her black patent leather pumps, equipped with four-inch heels, and her smile displayed her perfect pearly whites. Her face was immaculately made up in a daytime glamour look and her hair was new edge, but still tastefully done. She was dressed in a pair of ultra-high waisted, black slacks, which came up to within two inches of her breasts, and a white, long sleeved silk blouse.

Amanda, the receptionist smiled and said, “Oh my, you are gorgeous today Jamie.”

“Thank you, Amanda. I will be ready for my first appointment in about ten minutes.”

“Okay, Jacqueline Fleming is already here.”

“I know, I am late, the twins gave Susan and I a hard time at breakfast.”

“They can be a handful at that age, but you still love them to death, don’t you.”

“You know it girl, let me put my things up and I will be right back.”

Jamie put her purse and things in her locker, slipped on a pair of black trainers on her feet, she then checked her hair and makeup before heading to reception. Out of the twelve stylists at the ‘New Solution Salon’, she would be rated in the top two or three. Maurice, his real name was Willie Dunham, you can see why he chose a different professional name, was without a doubt the top gun and proprietor; with Jamie or Barbra Dent coming in second, depending on who you listen too.

Maurice was the classic image of a male hairstylist. In other words, he was gay in his demeanor and actions, but honey; he could work magic with the ladies hair he styled. Barbara came in second and Jamie was third, but nobody at this salon was better at the whole package, hair, nails and makeup, than Jamie. She could visualize and create works of art.

“Hello Jacqueline, I am ready for you now. I am sorry for making you wait.”

“That’s alright dear; I overheard you telling Amanda about your babies. I envy you. I sometimes wished that I would settle down and make a family.”

Jacqueline looked like a classic runway model; she lists her height at five foot-twelve inches. Yes, she really is six feet tall, but her vanity makes her do it this way, and one hundred and twenty-two pounds, size zero.

“You know, you really need to put on a few more pounds girl, there is thin and too thin,” Jamie admonished.

“I know, but I figure that I only have a few years to make my mark.”

“Modeling is such a vicious business, Jamie. If I don’t get down to size, there is always someone there willing to make the sacrifice.”

“But it’s not worth losing your life over.”

“I will put on a couple of pounds Jamie, I promise.”

Jamie had Jacqueline sit down and they discussed what she wanted to have done. Models that have hair styled in a flexible manner were in demand. Jacquie checks with her agency and clients, before she ever had a single hair trimmed on her head. When they came to a consensus, Jamie leaned the chair back and began to shampoo the girl.

“I heard a rumor about you the other day, Jamie.”

“About me being a male?”

“Yes that one.”

“I don’t advertise it, and I am not ashamed about it, but it is true.”

“I find that hard to believe, you are so beautiful.”

“Thank you, Jacqueline, but this city is full of girls far prettier than I am.”

“And they have the personalities of a bitch.”

“That may be true. I have some clients like that.”

“I know you do. How old are you girl?”

“I thought you weren’t supposed to ask a girl her age. I am twenty seven, married to a loving wife and I have three kids, ages five and nine months.”

“Sorry, I just had to know.”

“You could have kids too, but you need to put on about twenty pounds.”

Jacqueline made the sign of a cross, like she was fending off a vampire, towards Jamie, “I know, I really love kids, but staying thin is an addiction. If I am getting too personal tell me and I will quit, but how did you wind up like this.”

“I don’t mind sharing with you, I really like you girl. It is a long story. I guess I really blame my sister for this.”

“Don’t tell me she forced you to be a girl.”

“Oh heavens no. Patricia is a sweet girl and I really love her. This,” Jamie said, indicating her whole look, “was all my choice. You know how it is with male hairstylists. They are either like Maurice, loveably gay or poor. Women need non-threatening hairstylists. A macho male would never make a good cosmetologist. This is my disguise; or at least it used to be. Now, I just love looking like this.”

“This is how it all started when I was fifteen.”

I was fifteen and my sister was sixteen. I was a freshman in high school and Patricia was a sophomore cheerleader. I use to be and really still am quite the artist. I worked with acrylic, oils, watercolors and pastels. Don’t get me wrong, I knew I was good, but the old masters have nothing to fear from me.

When I started in high school, I really thought that I might be a commercial artist, or something like that. Patricia was into dance, gymnastics and cheerleading. You think I am pretty; you ought to see her.

I went to our first football game of the season, just to watch her. Our cheerleaders were a hundred times better than our football team. We lost that game 45 to 9 against a second rate team.

Anyway, our nationally rated cheer squad consisted of eight girls and six guys in the fall and that expanded to twelve and eight in the spring, after we announced the freshman cheerleaders.

My sister is really athletic, she was one of the girls that got thrown up into the air and was the top of any pyramids they performed. She was also one of their best dancers. Our cheer squad had a lot of good dancers.

At that first football game, she was climbing to the top of a pyramid. Our stupid male cheerleaders were either lost in a dream or caught up in panty watching. They weren’t spotting for the girls like they should have been. Michelle, a girl in the bottom of the pyramid, was on her period and chose to cramp up at that time and the pyramid collapsed. Two of the guys on the squad lost their position, after the cheer coach reviewed the tapes.

Patricia fell at an odd angle and landed on her right shoulder. They loaded her into the ambulance that was at the field and headed to the hospital. I called my parents on my cell phone, as I ran to the hospital. It was about four miles and I made it there in less than twenty minutes. I was just a couple of minutes ahead of Mom and Dad.

Patricia didn’t break anything, which can actually be worse than straining your ligaments and tendons. Broken bones heal stronger; damaged ligaments and tendons don’t. She was out of school for two weeks, before she got bored and determined in her heart to go to school.

Mom and Dad both worked, they were out of the house each day at six and often didn’t return till five or so. They commuted together to the big city.

Patricia wasn’t an invalid, although greatly handicapped at the time. So one morning she told me she was going to school with me. I left her in her room after breakfast to get ready. I heard her crying in her room when I came out of mine.

“Sis,” I said, “are you all right?”

“Don’t come in, I’m not dressed,” she yelled back.

I heard her struggling and whimpering.

“Can you give me a second, then come in and help me,” she said barley above a whisper.

Now, we were an average brother and sister at that time. We loved each other, don’t get me wrong, but she went her way and I went mine. We helped each other a little around the home, but we weren’t super tight.

When I entered her room, she was naked and holding a towel to her chest. She couldn’t dress herself. I threaded her bra up her arm; she couldn’t use her right arm at all. I turned my head to look away and got it hooked up. Then piece by piece I helped her get dressed.

She melted my heart when she kissed my cheek.

Our school had a policy about makeup. It wasn’t a ‘no makeup policy’, but they sent girls to the restroom to clean away any glamour looks and passed out detentions. Our cheerleaders kinda were trying to push the envelope, if you know what I mean. Each step they took gave the rest of the girls more room. As pretty as she was, she still wanted to look sharp, so I asked her, “Do you want me to do your makeup, Sis.”

“You don’t know how to do makeup.”

“Sis, you know I am a pretty good artist. With your help I know I can do it.”

So I did it. I admit it wasn’t a perfect job, but Patricia’s eyes got as big as saucers as she watched me work. She had one of those mile wide smiles when I finished. She carefully hugged me with her arm in a sling.

To show how much I didn’t know about makeup. She had me use one of those twelve-hour lipsticks and she didn’t let it set before she carefully kissed my cheek. You got it; I didn’t check my face till her friends swamped her with hugs and giggled when they looked at me.

I was all kind of teased, as I went to the boy’s room to scrub my face. I think some of the guys were jealous, they thought I got a kiss from some girl and they wanted to know who.

I was glad that Patricia never spread it around that it was her. I found out at lunch though that she did tell the cheerleader girls. The girls came to me as a group and each of them kissed my cheeks.

You got it girl, I sported seven sets of lip prints. I got a lot of nasty looks from some really big guys. I just knew that I was going to be murdered by a jealous boyfriend. The girls only had to threaten anybody that hurt me. Can you imagine a good-looking, two hundred pound jock, that couldn’t get a date? It scared the bejesus out of them.

The girl captain of the cheerleaders, took me aside and thanked me. It helped their morale to see my sister at school.

I didn’t have to help her dress anymore, they rotated girls who would come over and help her get dressed, but they did insist that I learn to do her makeup. I had a way of blending colors of her eye shadow. They gave me pointers and shared their makeup tips with me. They also taught me to do her hair. By December, the girls considered me a defacto member of their squad. I had something that most guys would give their right arms for, eight of the prettiest girls, treating me as an equal. I got to do things no other guy at school did and was privy to things, that none of the guys at school knew about. There were also times that I was with all of the girls, as the only guy.

Mom and Dad just didn’t know what had happened. I had girls calling me on the phone. They didn’t know that it wasn’t romantic and I didn’t tell.

I became immersed in makeup. I read all the magazines the girls read and practiced with the makeup, by doing it on the back of my left hand. Two or three girls would visit my sister and we would practice makeup and hairstyling. I got very good, very fast. I just never wore any makeup myself. That was true at least, until the Easter holidays.

They were planning a three-day sleepover, at three different homes, on Thursday, Friday and Saturday. All twelve girls were at our house on Thursday, as the freshman cheerleaders had joined the squad.

Mom and Dad abandoned ship at five and went out on a date, after the girls promised no drugs, alcohol, or trips away from home during the night. I think that they were very afraid, but I didn’t know any better. I holed up in my room, after sharing their pizza. There are just some things that girls have to do with just girls around, I reckoned.

I should have paid more attention to what the girls had promised my parents, I guess. They had failed to promise that there would be no shenanigans.

Courtney Martin, the senior Captain, and Veronica Masters the Junior Captain, led all twelve of the girls into my room. Other than my sister and my mom, I have never had a single girl in MY ROOM. Now I had twelve. If I wanted to run, it was now impossible. My bedroom was the smallest room in our house. As it was, I had four girls on my bed, for all of them to be able to get in, in the first place.

“James, you are probably wondering what is going on, I guess,” Courtney said.

“We got together, talked it over and voted you an unofficial member of our squad,” Veronica added.

“And, as you can see, it’s just us girls here tonight,” Courtney said.

If I had thought about what Courtney said, ‘it’s just us girls here tonight’ I might have jumped through the closed window. That was the only exit available from my room at the time.

“So, do you want to join us?” Veronica asked.

I honestly thought that they just wanted me to join in on their games or whatever they had planned, so I said OK. I knew immediately that that had to have been a mistake. All twelve girls began squealing with joy and fell on me.

They picked me up and carried me to the bathroom. Somewhere in those fifteen feet, all my clothes had disappeared and I was dumped into a bubble bath naked. Four of the girls were naked also. They scrubbed, cleaned and washed me. I think I fainted when Veronica produced a straight razor. I just knew I was going to wind up being castrated.

The next thing I knew, I had nary a hair below my nose, except for a one inch strip of hair above Peter and his two friends. It had taken years to grow all fifteen or twenty hairs on my body and I was proud of each and every one of them. Seriously, I probably had more than twenty hairs, but I was eons away from being called a hairy ape.

I was again picked up, dried off; my shoulder length hair trapped by curlers; my body powdered; two globes permanently adhered to my chest; stuffed into a corset, that took my waist of thirty inches to twenty seven inches; manicured; pedicured; painted; stockinged; and shoed like a horse. The girls used plastic wire ties on the corset, so it could be tightened but not released without a pair of wire cutters. The shoes were stiletto pumps, with a four-inch heel, t strap and something I had never seen before, small padlocks. I am not talking about cheap jewelry, pot metal padlocks, I swear that they were gold plated Masterlock ® locks. I heard some zinc oxide tape being pulled and Peter and his two friends disappeared. Where these girls learned to do things like that, I don’t know, but I would hate for them to hate me, if they did things like this to their friends.

I was then made to do my own makeup for the first time. I learned that it is a very different act putting on your own makeup by looking into a mirror. It took a lot of getting used to. I had to do it five or six times to do it fast enough and good enough to get their seal of approval.

I was then stood up in front of the girls in the living room, still only wearing what I had earlier described. Three or four of the girls were similarly dressed. Patricia wore the most and I can’t blame her, not wanting to be provocatively dressed in front of me. Veronica scared me again, she had on a leather corset, stockings, thigh high boots, a leather and feather mask, and a leather riding crop. She never hit me with it, but she did give me hugs.

We then played poker, instead of strip poker; I had to win some clothes. If I won a hand, I was handed an item of clothing. If I lost, I had a forfeit to do, to get the clothes. I think they cheated, I didn’t win a single hand and I am a very good poker player. I won’t say what they made me do, but I wore a permanent blush. I will say that nothing penetrated anything. I was still a virgin and as far as I knew, they were too. After my first forfeit I received a skirt, which I was allowed to wear and so on. I wound up dressed in a cheerleader uniform, with Jamie embroidered on my right breast. Yeah, I had breasts; I was a 36 C Patricia told me. One thing I never won and wasn’t given, would have relieved the draft under my skirt.

I had to practice walking and dancing with the girls, for an hour and a half, to earn my panties. The four-inch stiletto heels made walking a huge challenge for this noob. If I would have had room to fall, I would have broken my neck in the first ten minutes. By the time I earned my panties, they all told me I was walking like a pro.

The girls started dropping off to sleep at about two in the morning. Susan had warned me not to go to sleep first. I was very glad after seeing what they did to Delores Green. She should be able to get the magic marker makeup job off by the time school starts again. At least the girls did a good job and didn’t clown her out.

I found a square foot or two of floor to lie down on. I was just about asleep when Susan woke me. She whispered that it was too crowded to sleep here. She took my hand and pulled me towards my room. Somewhere in that twenty foot walk, I lost my cheerleader uniform. How she got me undressed, I was just too tired to know.

By four in the morning, Susan and I lost our virginity in ways I would never have imagined. We were both asleep when my parents got home. I am only glad they didn’t look into my room or I bet my sister’s room. We had heard some muffled pops of a riding crop before we fell asleep. We never found out, who might have been with Veronica and were afraid to ask.

Morning found thirteen girls getting dressed for breakfast, at ten thirty. Mom nearly dropped a couple dozen scrambled eggs in a serving bowl, when she saw one girl. I just smiled demurely at her, as I took the bowl from her. Somehow I had gained a black denim mini skirt and a white rayon blouse. She looked at me from head to toe, stopping to look at the padlocks, securing the heels. I could see sympathy in her eyes, before she turned and walked away. She never asked me about that day, but she did tell Dad that I had gone to be with friends. He said he didn't blame for heading to the hills.

One thing the girls did, that I respected them for, was when Courtney organized the girls and restored the homestead to better than its original condition.

Thirteen girls left in an organized fashion and terrorized the local mall. I wound up carrying a dozen bags, a lot of what they contained, was for me, but I never spent a penny. By two I was hurting. I couldn’t believe what I saw. Susan was four inches shorter than Veronica was and two years younger, but using just her evil eye, she convinced Veronica to turn over the keys to the locks on my pumps. I was in heaven as two girls massaged my feet and put a pair of pink cheerleader trainers on them, at the food court.

For the next two days, I can’t say what we did. We all made pinky promises with each other. It was just one heck of a party. I never knew girls could be so flexible. A few of the Catholic girls in the group, might have an interesting time at confession.

Somehow, I wound up wearing a really old, beautiful, engagement ring. Susan proposed to me and told me that I accepted it. She told me that I only had to wear the ring when I was en fem. A condition I found myself in many times over the next few years. I also wound up with three piercings, one in each ear and one near the belt. I don’t remember signing any releases, but I did realize just how many of the girls had pierced navels. All of them did.

I went to work for Veronica’s Mom, Candace, at her salon “Unique Changes”, that summer. She had a cosmetology instructor’s license and I got a student’s license. Dad got a funny look when I told him what I was doing that summer. Mom and sis had big smiles on their faces.

I began to notice the way most women treated me. It was like I had invaded an enemy beachhead. One woman though, Vanessa’s Aunt Emily, insisted that I work with her every time she came in. She invited me out to lunch and had a talk with me, explaining things. I had a lot to think about and some decisions to make.

I didn’t want to do the gay hairstylist thing, I like Susan too much, although I now have a lot of respect for their hard lives. So I got Patricia and Susan together for a discrete talk.

Mom nearly dropped a plate of sausage and I think Dad had a coronary, when I came to breakfast the next day. Patricia just acted like I was normal. Things really got strange, when Susan sat down to eat with us. None of us said where she came from. The big deal I guess was what I was wearing. It was strange sitting there wearing a corset, mini skirt, blouse, stockings, panties, full makeup, engagement ring and carrying a hand bag. At least I had a smaller bust now, a 34B, compared to what the girls had first given me.

It took Mom thirty seconds before she saw the engagement ring. She was afraid to say anything, after having to resuscitate Dad once already. She really didn’t want to be a young widow. She promised me a good talking too that night.

At work, it was almost treated as a non-issue. I did notice that everyone called me Jamie and that I already had a nametag for my blouse. Also I found the customers were more relaxed and they were more willing to have me work with them.

Candace was a taskmaster, not like Vanessa was shaping up to be, but she made sure she got her monies worth of work out of everyone and she insisted that her customers always had an enjoyable experience.

I soaked up the instruction like a sponge. I never realized what the women who work in salons have to know to do their jobs right. It isn’t as easy as most men think. Cosmeticians are required by law to know the proper uses of so many chemicals, cosmetics and sanitary procedures, besides having to know about styling hair, hair care, nail care and so much more. There were so many tests I had to take with the state and thousands of hours of work to be eligible to test. I was twenty one before I was fully certified.

My sophomore year was different. I went to school in a shirt and pants, just not men’s clothes. My hair was perm’ed, I wore long nails in neutral colors and as much makeup as a cheerleader.

I was called to the office several times. Some teachers seemed to think that my appearance was a distraction. It seemed to me that it was their problem, as only a handful of people were opposed to the way I dressed. That is when I found out that Courtney’s Mom is a very successful attorney with LGBT ties. She ironed out or caused a few wrinkles, I don’t know which.

The school had a well-respected Cosmetology program. The teacher didn’t want me in her class at first. She said she had a lot of reasons, but most of the girls liked me there and those that didn’t kept their distance and their mouths shut.

I was better than many of her seniors at many things, but she tended to grade me lower. At least till the vice principal had me do her hair and makeup. She liked my work and became livid when she saw my grades from her.

The teacher was made to hold me to the same standards she held her other students to. By the end of the school year we actually became friends.

Also that year I became the equipment manager for the cheerleaders. It was mostly an honorary title and it just meant I did a lot of their makeup for events and such. They also got to drag me to these events wearing my cheerleader uniform.

They also taught me their dance routines. I liked dancing and learning to dance like a girl, was a lot of fun. Susan helped me with my flexibility exercises and stretches. It was amazing just watching her range of motion, when compared to mine, but by November, I could pretty much do what they did.

Dad and I both had to start seeing a psychologist, me for gender issues and him because I was driving him crazy. He was never mean or hurt me, for that I am eternally glad. He just couldn’t understand why I was the way I was. I just liked ‘the me’ I became. That is the important thing isn’t it? I will admit that I am strange, but strange can be good, can’t it?

That year, the cheerleaders went to the area hospitals for Christmas dressed up as elves. The guys made cute male elves, while all the girls were sexy, but tasteful, female elves. Yes, I was one of the female elves. My Dad, bless his soul, was finally getting into the spirit of things and agreed to don a fur trimmed red suit, white wig and beard to play Santa to our elves. We hit four hospitals, passing out presents to the children and bringing joy to the people, who were stuck in those places trying to get well. The kids loved us and were crawling all over us as much as Santa. I couldn’t walk five feet, without having to pick up this child or hug that child. It broke my heart, but I loved every minute of it.

Susan and I went shopping with my sister Patricia, as it was the time for her senior prom. Patricia was so excited by all the beautiful gowns. We dug through the racks for hours. Susan and I also tried on many of the gowns. I found it odd to be dress shopping with my sister and my fiancé. I often wound up in the same dressing rooms with them and changing clothes side by side. Having been around the cheerleaders in various states of dress, had an effect on me. I found myself able to look at other gorgeous, beautiful girls, in an appreciative manner, instead of leering lustfully like most guys would.

We found the perfect dress for Patricia that day. On her prom date, she went to the salon for her hair and to be pampered, but she came home to me for her makeup. I spent hours, mentally composing the right look for her. A look that brought out her natural beauty and wonderfully complimented her dress. I also did makeup for two other senior cheerleaders, but Patricia was my piece de resistance that year. Patricia would have cried when she saw herself, except for the fact that it would have ruined her makeup.

After Patricia and the girls had left with their dates, I looked at Susan. What I saw almost scared me. She had the look of a big cat stalking her prey. She pounced on me and hauled my carcass off, where she could be alone with her prize. That was my second most memorable night of my high school years. We did things; Susan moved heaven and earth that night.

Summer brought more work at the salon and more testing. As I learned more and upgraded my license, I could do more without direct supervision. I now had a facial license and a nail care license. I also got more comfortable in my role. I got to where I knew I wouldn’t dress any other way. I would wear ladies slacks to work in and dresses, skirts and blouses around the house for Susan.

My senior year, I was an honorary co-captain, with Abby. We became tight friends and no, there was never anything between us. Susan became better friends with Vanessa, and I would hate to have those two think up something sinister. Van, I heard, was getting some professional training in interpersonal relationship therapy. Yes, that is a good way to put it. She got to wear her black leather and use her whips and chains, while she assisted in counseling.

She was gorgeous when she was dressed up. She had me help her design her whole personal image from hairstyle, makeup and nails. I always made sure Susan was with me when I worked with her.

Van also asked me about how I would make some very masculine type faces look feminine, for the life of me, I don’t know why (giggle giggle). She would give me pictures of some males and asked me what I would suggest.

She always had some strange things around her home, like spools of rope, chains, fur lined cuffs, trapeze bars and blocks and tackle, you know those sorts of things. I had a chill down my spine when she asked if I would like to try some different things out. I politely declined, causing her to giggle.

Susan was my date to my senior prom. She and my sister went shopping and I found out that they had bought my outfit for the prom. My waist was comfortably was down to twenty five inches, with a corset that I hardly noticed anymore, but for two weeks before the prom, Susan had me in a new corset. Every day for two weeks, she took off another third of an inch or so, till I was down to twenty inches.

I was pampered at the salon and Candace insisted on doing my hair and makeup. I was blindfolded and taken in the back. I found it strange and relieved that they took the corset off. I could feel stay up stockings being put on, before my heels. Peter and his two friends, were restrained with tape and dermabond (a topical adhesive that is often used in surgery). I was made to stand and realized just how tall the heels were. I was afraid of getting nose bleed. They then helped me into the dress. The material was textured and incredibly sensuous. I also noticed a breeze on my back down to my waist. I felt some adhesive where the gown touched both shoulders. That was all that I had on. I was covered beneath the chin, by a sheet so my makeup and hair could be double checked after the blindfold came off.

When they finished, they stood me in front of a mirror and dropped the sheet. My jaw bounced off the floor when I saw myself. I sparkled in the light. The gown was a black cowl neck, floor length gown, which had one slit up to bottom of my left hip. The back of the gown was open down to just below my waist. The shoes I wore matched the dress exactly and had a five-inch stiletto heel. Mom came in and was in tears when she saw me. She said I was so beautiful. She only gave me a careful hug, promising me more later.
I then heard a knock and then Susan appeared in the doorway. I almost cried. She was dressed in the same dress in white. Mom and Candace took about a thousand pictures, before we were herded into the back of a stretch limo. The other senior cheerleaders and their dates were already in the back. We received applause and wolf whistles as we took our seats.

At the prom, we were the bells of the ball. I found my name, with five other girls, on the ballot for prom queen. No one had told me this. Fortunately, I was only a princess. I later heard that I came in second by two votes. I had voted for Abby, who won.

Susan and I didn’t get home till just before sunrise. She is so incredible, that she brings out the best in me. We had brought a change of clothes with us, but somewhere my flats had disappeared.

I graduated and got my operator’s license, meaning I required no supervision and could do everything except teach. I worked at the salon the next year, saving up for college. I also attended several clinics put on by the major cosmetic and hair care companies, to get some professional certifications.

I did well at them and had several that wanted to sign me to exclusive contracts. I would be paid bonuses for pushing their product lines. A few were quite lucrative. If the cosmetics were just for me I might have dived right in, but I knew that not every woman could get the best results from just one line of cosmetics. Also, there are many companies that have products I like to work with. I am sure you know what I mean. I turned them down.

Susan and I got married after she graduated. It was a different kind of ceremony, I got to wear a wedding dress and she wore a feminized Tuxedo. Vanessa was her best man. I pitied Abby, my maid of honor; I think Van had designs on her.

We both came out west to go to USC. I went to school and found a salon to work in. Two weeks after our graduation Susan gave birth to our first Jamie Jr. and six months ago to Vanessa and Abby.

"Well that is how I became this way and I wouldn’t change a thing."

I looked at Jacqueline, who had a dreamy look in her eyes. I did a wonderful job of her hair, makeup and nails, but she didn’t see a thing.

“Is there another guy like you out there, darling?”

“I am sure that there is. You just have to get out there and look. I could give you Van’s number; she might have a lead or two.”

“I don’t think the guys she knows are much like you, but maybe it wouldn’t hurt.”

She finally looked at herself and smiled. “You did a wonderful job Jamie. I think I might go eat a Big Mac.”

She air kissed my cheeks, careful of her makeup and turned to go. “Thank you dear.”

Finis