A young couple struggles with infertility after a botched operation left them rich but unable to have children. To cheer up his wife, the husband takes her to Bikini Beach. There, he hatches a unique idea to overcome their problems.

Note - This story was previously published on another web site, but this is its debut on BCTS. Hope you enjoy it.

**********************************************************************

This story is copyright by the author. It is protected by licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

"What do you want to do today, dear?" John Robinson's question was directed at his lovely bride, seated across the breakfast table from himself.

"I don't know," Sheila answered unenthusiastically. "Whatever."

John frowned. The spark in Sheila's eyes, that delightful free spirit that had so attracted him to her, was gone. He gazed lovingly at his wife, wishing he knew how to rekindle the life in her soul. She was still as beautiful as ever; her long brown hair was tied in a neat inside-out ponytail, looking both simple and elegant. Her soft eyes, bearing a touch of green in their otherwise hazel tint, hinted at a trace of Irish in her genes. She was attractive, with high cheeks and lustrous skin, sensuous lips and a dainty little nose. Concealed beneath her high-collared robe was a body which made John crazy with desire; as he stared at her, he mentally pictured the delightful curves of her modest breasts, the roundness of her hips. He pondered on her long sexy legs. His mind imagined her narrow waist and her flat tummy, toned to perfection by her devotion to exercise and a healthy diet. And then he pictured the scar.

"How about going to a theme park?" John asked, hoping to stir some enthusiasm.

"I don't know," Sheila answered with her long-familiar tone.

Frustration tugged at John, but he fought it back. He had to sound positive - or else they'd have another argument. "It'll be fun!" he said eagerly. "Just like when we were dating."

For the briefest of moments, Sheila's eyes sparkled. "That might be nice."

John considered her reaction to be a triumph. "Okay, let's get the Jag, put down the top, and go looking for fun. Should we go to an amusement park, or to a water park?" As soon as he said the words, John cringed inwardly.

Sheila glanced at him, and John saw her inner turmoil. "I can't go to a water park," she said softly. "I can't let anyone stare at ... at it!"

John closed his eyes and sighed. So close. "Sweetie, it's not that bad," he argued, knowing that it was pointless.

Sheila's eyes started to tear. "Yes it is," she sobbed. "It's hideous. It makes me look like a freak!"

John closed his eyes briefly. Then an inspiration hit him. "Honey, I saw an ad the other day for a water park. It said it was designed for women." He was clutching at straws; he needed to get his wife out of the house, and soon. She'd been brooding for a few months now — far too long to be healthy. "Sweetie, if it's designed for women, then you won't have any guys staring at you. You won't have to feel self-conscious."

Sheila's determined pout wavered. "Do you think so?" she asked. For the first time in a very long time, her voice was tinged with hope.

**********

John pulled the Jag convertible into the parking lot with a squeal of the tires. He'd grown to love driving this car; it was far more fun than the Taurus they'd driven. Before. He winced; he was enjoying one of the benefits of the mistake, and he felt guilty for it.

Together, he and Sheila walked across the parking lot, hand-in-hand, swim suits and towels tucked under their arms. John noticed the clientele moving toward the gate. "See," he said with confidence, "it's mostly women. Nothing to worry about."

Sheila clutched his hand tightly. "I'm sorry I doubted you, honey. It's just that ..." She couldn't continue, but John understood perfectly.

Sheila felt defective. Here they were, nearing thirty, and her entire plans for her life had been thrown into turmoil. One evening, she had severe abdominal cramping. They rushed to the emergency room, where the doctor diagnosed her with a ruptured appendix. The only option was emergency surgery — which the surgeon botched, and badly. In his haste, the surgeon nicked her uterus, and then didn't notice. The first couple of days in recovery, she'd been doing well. Then she developed a high fever and very severe pain. By the time they opened Sheila up again, the damage to her reproductive system was irreparable. She was left sterile and scarred.

Being childless was a particularly cruel blow to Sheila. She was the only daughter of an only daughter of an only daughter of a rather noted immigrant family, the last in her family tree. Her heritage was very important to her. And now, she couldn't pass on the heritage.

The lawsuit gained them millions, but it couldn't repair the damage to Sheila's fragile ego. They'd retired from their early careers and moved south; John hoped that a change of scenery would help her mood. It didn't. Sheila brooded non-stop. She considered herself defective, the scar an outward symbol of her failure as a woman. From morning to evening, she sat in the sunroom of their lavish home, staring vacantly into the garden, watching the birds and flowers and feeling hopelessly sorry for herself.

And so it was no small feat for John to get Sheila to the park. He allowed himself a tiny feeling of triumph as they neared the ticket booth.

"May I help you?" The young lady at the window was very friendly.

John glanced at Sheila. "I understand this park caters to women?" he asked, holding her hand tightly.

The young lady nodded, a curious smile on her face. "Yes, sir, that's correct."

John smiled. "Then we'd like two tickets, please."

The girl sighed. "This is a private park, for members only," she said, reciting an obviously well-worn line. "Most of our patrons are members, but we do have a limited number of short-term guest passes. Let me check." She turned and pressed a few keys on her computer, then turned back, smiling. "You're in luck. We have some passes available."

John sighed. She could have spared them the little lecture about memberships. "Okay, then we'd like two one-day passes." He pulled out his platinum card and then signed the receipt.

**********

John was puzzled by the size of the men's locker room, but then he remembered that the park catered mostly to women. There was no reason for the men's room to be huge. He tucked his clothes into an empty locker, pocketed the key, and stepped to a shower stall. The spray surprised him by its warmth, and by the pleasant tingle it seemed to induce in him.

Feeling a spring in his step, John walked quickly toward the door, hoping to get outside before Sheila. He was hoping she wasn't going to chicken out — again. For some reason, his stride seemed a bit odd to him, like his stance was wider; it seemed a bit harder to keep from swaying with each step. Something tickled his shoulders; involuntarily, John reached up to swipe at whatever was causing the annoyance.

The door opened a little harder than John thought it should, and he shaded his eyes from the bright sun. And his jaw dropped. There was a girl staring at him. And she was ... she looked like ... his sister! John's eyes widened in astonishment. The girl staring at him was the spitting image of his twin sister. Her hair was a bit shorter, and done in a rather stylish flip, but it was the same exact color. Her eyes — identical. Her face was uncannily the same. And — John's eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets — she was topless, her perky breasts on display to the world.

"Young lady," a stern matronly voice sounded from behind John. He cocked his ears, knowing that the voice wasn't directed at him. "I do not permit topless sunbathing in my park!"

John turned his head, and saw an old woman walking toward him — and the mysterious woman. He realized, from her words, that she was talking to the young topless lady. His expression froze when she walked directly to him.

"Young lady, are you listening to me?" The old woman was talking directly to him.

John frowned. "I'm sorry, but..." He got no further. His voice echoed strangely in his ears, a soft alto instead of his usual deep masculine tone. He turned back, and saw the woman aping his movements. With a sickening certainty, John realized that he was looking in a mirror. His brain connected the impossible facts together. He glanced back at the woman, then down at himself. A feminine gasp escaped his lips as he saw the boobs on his chest and the very feminine bikini bottom on his wider hips. "What...?" he tried to ask as he glanced back at the woman.

The old woman just frowned and held out a bikini top, which coincidentally happened to match the bottom he wore.

John didn't know what else to do; he took the top. Then, with a skill that added to his astonishment, he began to tie it on with a practiced ease. "What the hell is going on here?" he managed to ask.

The old woman shook her head. "Such language!" she admonished him. "John, you know that this park is for women. You were the one who told your wife that very fact." John's jaw dropped as she spoke words that she couldn't have possibly known. "Well, it is for women. Only for women. While you are a guest, you have to be a woman."

"But..." John's mind fought to grasp at some sanity. "How?"

The old woman shrugged. "Magic, of course." She grasped John's arm and led him away from the entrance. "Your goal was most noble, by the way. I'm impressed with your selflessness." This old woman was reading his innermost feelings, and that made John nervous. More nervous, in fact, than having been changed into a woman.

"But ... how am I going to explain this to Sheila?"

The old woman smiled. "I've already done that for you," she said. "And don't worry. Since you bought a 1-day pass, the change will wear off tonight after you leave the park." She grinned, knowing that she'd anticipated his next question.

As she'd promised, Sheila was waiting for John. Her eyes widened in surprise as he approached with the old woman. "John?" she asked uncertainly.

John gulped, then nodded. "Yes, sweetie. It's really me."

"Wow!" Sheila exclaimed, raising her hand to her mouth. "This is so weird! You look just like your sister!"

John nodded mutely. He'd noticed the same thing. He turned to the old woman. "So now what do we do?" he asked.

The old woman smiled. "You came for a day of fun. So go have fun! Enjoy the park!"

**********

The two rafts floated in tandem, the two girls holding hands to stay together as the gentle current carried them around Old Man River. John glanced at Sheila, and smiled to himself. Her face was as relaxed as he'd seen in a very long time; this outing had been a good idea, despite things.

Sheila saw John looking at her. "You're being a pretty good sport, considering." She couldn't help glancing at John's dainty features and obvious feminine figure.

John blushed. "Well, this isn't quite what I expected," he admitted. "But I'm glad we came."

A loudspeaker clicked to life. "The park is closing in fifteen minutes."

Sheila sighed. "Well, I guess we should get going." She got a tiny smile. "You want to go out after this? Dinner? Dancing?"

The shocked expression on John's face was what she'd expected. As his jaw flapped, she started to chuckle to herself.

John smiled to himself as they walked back to the lockers. He and Sheila were hand-in-hand; around them, people smiled knowingly. The only question they had was which one had started as a guy. John glanced around nervously, and knew that he was advertising, by his discomfort and nervousness, that he was the changed one. He wondered briefly how long he'd be stuck in this body; the old woman had promised that he'd change back sometime during the night. He hoped she was right.

**********

Slowly, John's eyes opened. He felt disoriented for a moment, and then he felt something constricting his body. With a jerk, he threw back the sheets.

The offending item was one of Sheila's teddys. Slowly, his brain awakened, and memories began to return. The park. Changing into a woman. Sheila's insistence on doing his nails and makeup. Her insistence that he sleep in one of her nighties.

And now that he was changed back, the nightie, designed for a petite woman, was digging into his body, stretching beyond its intent. With great care, he began to wiggle out of the confining garment; he didn't want to ruin it, after all. After visiting the bathroom and pulling on a pair of shorts, John walked out to the sunroom.

As expected, Sheila sat in her chair, gazing into the garden. John slumped into his chair, feeling a tinge of defeat. She wore the same expression she had the previous day, and the day before that. It was as if nothing had changed.

"Good morning, sweetie," she said softly.

John's ears perked up. In her simple greeting, he heard more life than he had for weeks. "Morning," he echoed. "Sleep well?"

She nodded, almost imperceptibly. "Yeah, I did. How about you?"

John smiled. "Most interesting bedtime I've had in a while." He leaned back in the chair. "I can't believe how tired I was."

Sheila leaned over and kissed John's cheek. "Thank you," she said simply.

**********

John sat back from his computer as he heard Sheila's car pull into the driveway. He watched as she climbed out, then reached into the passenger seat to retrieve a few packages. John swiveled from his chair and strode to meet her. He opened the door before she would need to dig out her keys. "Hi, honey. Enjoy your day?"

Sheila gave him a quick kiss, carefully juggling the arms full of packages. "It was okay. Anya said to tell you hi, and wondered when you'd be coming back."

John winced. "I hope you didn't promise anything too soon," he said carefully.

Sheila shrugged and threaded her way past John. She began to dump her load on the kitchen table. "I said you'd think about it."

John shook his head. "And that's all I'm going to do."

Sheila turned suddenly and gave him a hug. "Thanks," she said. "For the membership." John cocked his head, not understanding. Sheila sensed his confusion. "I really needed the membership. For me. So I wouldn't feel so self-conscious."

John smiled, enjoying the warmth of her hug. "I've noticed that you've been getting out a lot more lately." Sheila stiffened just a bit, and John noticed. "But..." he prompted.

Sheila's hair swished in his face as she shook her head. Her hug tightened; her one remaining insecurity surfaced. "It's just that ..." she couldn't go on.

She didn't have to. John understood all too well. Every time she saw a child, a woman with a baby, she was painfully reminded that she could never pass on her heritage, that her family line ended with herself. All he could do was hold her and let her cry.

**********

The soft breathing beside him was calm and peaceful, but John knew that his wife was troubled. Her anguish over not being able to have children was affecting their sex life; it had been months since they'd been intimate. John was frankly starting to get scared; a couple of weeks ago, a young lady had made a pass at him, and he'd almost taken her up on her offer. He lay still, his mind racing, wondering just how long they could last like this.

If only the magic of Bikini Beach could heal Sheila, John thought. She'd come so far on overcoming her self-consciousness about the scar, but she might never get over the infertility. Why couldn't it work that way, he pondered, listening to Sheila's rhythmic breaths. It could change him into a fully functional woman — why couldn't the old woman change her .... John's mind stopped, and then replayed his thoughts. Over and over, he pondered that one seemingly random thought. A tiny seed of an idea sprouted, and as he lay in bed, a plan began to grow.

**********

"Is it that important to you?" John asked, sitting beside Sheila in the sunroom. It'd been nearly three weeks since John started hatching his plan — three weeks to begin to lay the groundwork. And now, it was the moment of truth.

Sheila sighed heavily. "You just can't understand, can you? It's the end of my family." She closed her eyes, fighting back the tears. "Yes, dear, it's that important to me. It's more important than just about anything." She had to wipe her eyes. "It's not about me having a baby. It's about my family." She paused to wipe her tears yet again. "If I could, I'd even go to in vitro and have a surrogate carry my baby." Her tears were flowing. "Anything if I knew it was _my_ baby!"

John grasped her hand. "I'm trying to understand, dearest," he said soothingly. "I'm not trying to upset you."

Sheila placed her free hand atop his. "I know, John. I just wish there were something we could do." She wiped another tear. "It's not that I don't love you, because I do, but I'd do anything to have an heir."

John leaned over and kissed her. "I know, sweetie. I know." The die was cast. "I got a call from Ralph. He wanted me to go check out the computer systems again."

Sheila closed her eyes. "I wish someone else could take care of those damned things. Why is it always you?" She sighed. "How long this time?"

John shook his head. "I don't know. Three, four weeks. It depends on what the problem is."

**********

John walked nervously across the asphalt. It was early morning, and the lot was full. Around him, other patrons ignored him, intent as they were on their own business. He stepped to the office and pushed the buzzer.

After a brief moment, the speaker clicked. "May I help you?"

John cleared his throat and fought the butterflies in his stomach. "I need to talk with you, if I may."

The response was not what John expected. The old woman chuckled at him. "Of course, John. I've been expecting you." The door latch clicked mechanically. "Come in, please."

John opened the door and stepped into the office. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the difference in lighting; as soon as he knew he wouldn't trip over anything, he stepped toward the desk.

The old woman was exactly as John remembered. She sat impassively at her desk, obviously waiting for John to sit. He obliged her, and eased himself into one of the chairs. "Now, what can I help you with?" she asked.

John felt a touch of confusion. "You were expecting me, and you don't know what I want?" He shook his head. "I'm not really sure I believe all of this."

"But you're here."

John nodded slowly. "You know that Sheila and I have some problems, because she can't bear any children." The old woman nodded. "Well, if you can change men into women, can you ... uh ... you know, change me into ... uh ... a surrogate mother?" He felt his cheeks burning as he asked the question.

The old woman didn't laugh, or get angry, or any of the other things John half-expected. "You realize what you're asking, don't you?"

John swallowed. "I've been thinking about this for a few weeks," he admitted. "Either I do something like this, or ..."

The old woman nodded solemnly. "Or you and Sheila won't survive as a couple." She understood completely. "How does she feel about this?"

John looked down. This was the second major hurdle in his plan. "She doesn't know," he admitted sheepishly. He glanced up suddenly, his eyes narrowed. "But she said she'd sacrifice just about anything to have an heir." He knew how weak that defense sounded, but it was all he had.

The old woman nodded again. "Are you sure you're ready for this? To become pregnant? To give up your manhood for nine months — or more?" She leaned forward in her desk, a grim tone which seemed to be threatening to John. "Are you ready for morning-sickness? For having a baby kick you and make you have to pee at any hour? For having heavy, saggy breasts as you near term? For a heavy, bulging belly that makes you waddle when you walk? For the pain of delivering a child into this world?" Her arms rested on the desk, making her seem nearer John. "Are you ready for all of that?"

John swallowed and tried to look down. After a brief second, he looked back up. "No," he admitted, "I'm not. Or for any of the other hundred things women complain about during pregnancy." He swallowed again. "But I'm even less prepared to lose my wife."

The old woman studied John for a long while. His mind raced, wondering what she was thinking. Finally, she sat back. "I can see that you've thought this through." She bit her lip. "I don't normally do this; when a man changes into a woman, he changes back at the expiration of his ticket." John nodded. "Unless he becomes pregnant."

John's heart skipped a beat. "If he gets pregnant?"

The old woman nodded, her face grim. "If a man changes and then becomes pregnant, the change become irreversible."

John closed his eyes, feeling his hopes dashed. He visibly sank in his chair, his reason for being here having been taken from him. To have come so close, only to lose Sheila at the end. No matter which way he turned, he was going to lose her.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity, John opened his eyes. "Okay."

The old woman perked up. "Okay — what?"

John bit his lower lip. "Okay, I'm ready."

The old woman frowned. "You know what you're saying, don't you? You'll give up your life as a man — to give your wife a child?"

John stared her in the eyes. "Yes," he answered grimly.

The old woman sat back in her chair, and slowly a smile spread across her face. "I can see how much love you have for your wife. You bring her to a park, and endure what most men would consider the ultimate humiliation, just to try to help her overcome her grief and self-image. And now, you are willing to give up your life as a man, and ultimately your wife, to give her what she wants most — an heir to her family heritage." John merely nodded. "Well, if you recall, I used the word 'normally'. I can adjust the magic a bit as necessary — if it's done in advance."

John's heart leaped. "You mean..."

"After you deliver a child, you will be able to change back to your normal self."

John felt relief flood his body. "Okay, now how much?" He was already pulling his wallet from his pants.

The old woman thought for a moment, then wrote down a number on a sheet of paper and passed it across the desk. John read the number, and his eyebrows rose. "That's about twice the price of a lifetime pass," he observed.

"Correct," the old woman answered. "But a lifetime pass is a one-way change. Yours won't be."

John smiled. "Fair enough." He pushed his credit card to the old woman. It took her a few minutes to enter the specifics of the pass into her computer, and then to make the charge to his credit card. When she printed the receipt, John eagerly signed it.

"Now," John said as he leaned back into his chair, "I think I remember your granddaughter telling me that some facets of the change could be controlled."

The old woman nodded. Her eyes were narrowed as she instantly refocused on John. "That's right." She tilted her head a bit. "I take it you don't want the same body you had before?"

John smiled. Hurdle number three. "No. Here's what I want..."

**********

The doctor opened the door, smiling warmly as he greeted his patient. "Good morning."

The woman on the examining table held herself with a poise arising from determination. "Good morning, Doctor."

The doctor eased himself into his chair. He seemed wary of the young woman, as if there were something about her that made him nervous. "What can I do for you today?"

The woman was all business. "You have some samples of John Robinson's sperm. I want you to inseminate me with one of the samples."

The doctor's eyebrows shot up. "But ... This is highly irregular. You haven't been on any cycle regulating medications, and there's no referral, no indication that you are currently ovulating." He shook his head. "Unless we follow proper procedures, this is just not something I can recommend." He frowned. "There is also the issue of the donor's permission."

The woman smiled and opened her purse. She carefully extracted a folded document, which she presented to the doctor. "That should take care of the permission issue. It's signed and notarized by Mr. Robinson's lawyer. You may call him to confirm his signature, if you so desire."

The doctor examined the paper and relented. "It meets the legal criteria for the transfer. But this is still not recommended without assuring that you are currently ovulating."

The woman smiled again. Her smile was beginning to be maddening to the doctor. "I have it on very good authority that I am currently ovulating." Her smile vanished. "Now, as I understand it, any irregularities in the procedure can be dispensed with by signing a release." She dug in her purse. "Such as this." Another document was passed to the doctor.

The doctor felt under siege. She seemed to have anticipated his every objection. "There is the issue of cost. Most fertility techniques, as you know, are not covered by insurance." This was his last line of defense.

The woman reached into her purse one last time. She extracted what looked like a check and handed it to the doc. "According to your office staff, this is a little more than the usual and customary fee. I figured that, since it was a bit ... unconventional, that you'd charge more."

The doctor examined the cashier's check, and nodded. "Okay, we'll do it your way, if you insist. According to medical protocol, I should make a transfer today, and another in two days, and a third two days after that, to increase the chances of inducing pregnancy."

The woman smiled. "That's what I understand. Now, can we get started?"

**********

John was getting sick of the hotel room; he ached to get into his car and drive home, to Sheila. He missed her so much, and it seemed to get worse every day. He felt penned in, a captive to this room. But, in his current condition, he dared not go out. And so he waited, watching all the movies on three movie channels. And still he waited.

Finally, the calendar announced his impending liberation — maybe. Trembling, his stomach churning with uncertainty, John walked into the corner drugstore and purchased the necessary supplies. He eagerly walked back to the room.

An engineer by training, and a man, John started to open the kit and rush to use it, but he stopped himself. Now was not the time to rush things, to get sloppy. Too much was at stake. He read the instructions carefully, and then reread them. And then he read them a third time.

John went to the bathroom, then emerged a few seconds later. He tried to sit still on the bed, waiting for the test to complete, but he was too nervous. He paced like a caged animal, glancing at his watch every two or three seconds. The time dragged interminably, agonizing in its slowness. Finally, he returned to the bathroom.

A shout of joy could be heard in every adjoining room, causing more than one resident to lift his or her eyebrows in wonder.

**********

Sheila had long ago learned not to be nervous when John traveled on business; his trips were totally unpredictable, and he'd be home when he got home. She pondered going to Bikini Beach, but decided against it when she heard the weather forecast. If it really did rain, she didn't want to be outside in a swimming suit.

Her ears perked up when she heard a car. By craning her neck, she could just see the corner of John's Mercedes as it pulled into the driveway next to her Jag. She set down the book she'd been reading and padded into the kitchen.

The door opened just as she reached for it, and she put on a smile in anticipation of seeing John. And then her jaw dropped

"What the ...?" she tried to ask, but she suddenly felt woozy from moving so suddenly and being face-to-face with the impossible.

John closed the kitchen door and smiled at Sheila. "Hi, honey. I'm home."

Sheila sputtered and gawked. "What the hell is this?" she finally was able to ask. "You look like ...?

John smiled. "Yes, Sheila. I look like you. In fact," he continued, as if reporting the weather, "I am you."

"What ...?" Sheila was unable to get past her shock. She felt as if she were looking in a mirror.

John took her hands gently and led her to the table. He eased her into her chair, then sat down opposite her. "You remember when we went to Bikini Beach?" he asked in Sheila's voice. She stared at him, and then nodded. John smiled. "Well, I went back."

Sheila's mouth dropped open yet again. "But you're ... me!" she exclaimed.

John smiled. "And that's not all," he said, struggling mightily to contain his enthusiasm. "I haven't been feeling too well the past few mornings," he said.

Sheila looked like she was about to faint from the shock. "John, what the hell is going on?"

John reached across the table and took her hands. "You remember when I asked how important it was for you to have a child?" She nodded, perplexed. "Well, the reason that I haven't been feeling too well is that I'm having morning sickness."

Sheila's eyes widened, and her jaw dropped again. "Did you say what I thought you said?"

John smiled. "I'm pregnant, sweetie."

Sheila's eyes widened, then narrowed again. "John, if this is some kind of joke, it's really, really cruel."

John held her hands tightly. "Sheila, my love, I am really, truly pregnant with our baby."

"But how can it be our baby?" Sheila asked immediately.

John smiled. "I ... made some arrangements. I gave some sperm samples to the doctor, and then I visited Bikini Beach. After I got changed, I went back and was inseminated."

"But how is it our baby?" Sheila asked, confused. "I can understand looking like me, so it wouldn't look too strange to our friends and neighbors, but...?"

John's smile broadened. "Sheila, I don't just look like you. I am you. Down to the very last gene, I am you." He watched as his words registered. "This baby in me has half of your genes, and half of mine. It's our baby!"

Sheila stared for another moment, and then the tears began to flow. "Oh, John," she cried, "I don't know what to say!"

John smiled. "How about 'I love you'? You told me how important it was to have an heir, and to carry on the family heritage. And now we can do that."

Sheila started to bawl. "You did this ... for me?" Tears streamed down her cheeks. "You're willing to be pregnant — to have all the discomfort — for me?"

John wiped his own tears away. Damned hormones, he thought to himself. "Well, if the past four days are any indication, it's not going to be a picnic, but I had to do it. For you. And for us."

A memory intruded suddenly in Sheila's thoughts. "Anya said that pregnancy made a change permanent." She looked and sounded worried.

John patted her hands. "I talked to the old woman, and that's all taken care of. After I have the baby, I'll be able to change back."

Sheila rose and padded around the table, sitting in the chair beside John. She wrapped her arms around him, and hugged him tightly as she wept tears of joy. "Oh, John, you're the most wonderful husband a woman could ever have! Most women are satisfied if their husband helps with the diapers. Look at how lucky I am — my husband is going to have our baby!" She and John hugged, looking like identical twins as they cried their tears of happiness.

"Uh, John?"

"Yes, dearest?"

"What if I told you I always wanted a large family? "

FIN