Their home was only a short distance away, so I thought to leave my car at the lot and walk back for it later.

As we drove, Kathryn asked about the store and about what my other interests were. We chatted amiably. I was still trying to understand the innocence and obvious trust of the young lady in back. No other girl I had

ever met would have revealed herself the way she did. It was a trust I would have to be careful to uphold.

"You OK back there?" I asked.

"Fine, thank you," she replied. "Are you sure this isn't an imposition?"

"Not at all. I was looking for a way to meet you anyhow. I'd seen you different times at the holiday get togethers at your home but you always disappeared before I got a chance to introduce myself."

"I'm not very comfortable around people," she said softly. "I'm so different that most people just stare at me and that makes me feel even worse."

"I'll try to get you home as soon as possible," I said.

"No, that's OK," she said quickly. I've been looking forward to meeting you too. Daddy never let boys come see me at home and Mother hasn't been very encouraging either. I'm afraid I don't know much about boys except what I see on TV. I was hoping... "

Her voice trailed off.

"What?"

"Daddy really liked you and Mother trusts you completely. I was just thinking that you might be able to help me understand some things about boys. I've never really gotten to know one, except Daddy, and that doesn't

count."

"I'll be happy to help."

As we pulled into the gravel driveway Kathryn explained about the garage door opener on the visor and we parked next to a vintage Cadillac.

"That was my grandfather's car," Kathryn explained. "Daddy used to drive it sometimes."

As she spoke the last words her voice trailed off.

"You OK?" I asked.

"Yes. I miss him, that's all."

I got out and opened the door for Mrs. Borman who had regained her composure if not her complete consciousness.

"Thank you, dear," she said in her most gracious tones, "This nice Mr. Johnston's brought us all the way home, Katty. Wasn't that good of him?"

"Yes, Mother," she replied. "Very nice. Do you feel... better now?"

Yes, dear, much better," she said getting out of the car and straightening her dress.

"I put the wheelchair in the trunk," I said, "Shall I get it out?"

Kathryn spoke quickly, before her mother could respond. "If you don't mind, could you just carry me up to my room? It's been a long hot day and I need to get these arms off."

"Katty, dear, don't impose on the nice lad," Mrs. Borman found her tongue, "I'm sure he must have other things to do this evening."

Kathryn looked at me. "It will take less time than getting me back together and into the wheelchair, Mother."

"I'll be happy to give you a lift," I said and she smiled.

"This is awfully kind of you, Mr. Johnston," said Mrs. Borman, opening the door to the house. "The stairs are through the kitchen, dining room and on the left."

I leaned in to the back seat, put Kathryn's arms over my shoulders and paused.

"Put one hand under me, OK?" she said.

Sliding one hand under her resulted in her panties sliding to one side. My hand was under the very attractive young lady's quite bare little bottom.

"You have nice, strong hands," she whispered in my ear as I lifted her from the station wagon.

"What about your legs?"

"I won't need them tonight. The maid will bring them up in the morning."

"In the morning?"

"Yes. She gets supper ready and leaves. She's gone now, but she can bring them in the morning."

As I carried Kathryn through the kitchen and dining room I could feel her moving her bottom. "Am I holding you correctly?" I inquired.

"More in front, if you can... There, that's perfect," she murmured. "You know what?"

"What?"

"You're the first boy that's ever been to my room."

We turned the corner and headed up the wide polished stairs. A carpet strip of off-white with delicate blue designs was soft underfoot.

"Don't you get out much?" I asked.

"I don't get out at all," she said quietly. "I had school in my room. They always just brought everything to me. I really never really wanted to go out."

"But you were out today," I said.

"Mother didn't want to leave me alone but she had to go to that company thing. It's really hard for her, putting me all together and dressing me just to take me out. Daddy used to do it whenever we would go out or people

were to come in. I'm getting worried about her."

We reached the top of the stairs. She nodded down the hall. "That way...

first room on the left."

We turned into charming little bedroom. It was pleasant but oddly arranged.

Everything was low to the ground. The bed was practically at floor level as were some bookcases and there was a computer that sat on the floor.

"This is my private island," she said into my ear. "Just me and the maid. Mom hardly ever comes in. Put me on my bed, please."

I lowered her gently onto the soft quilted bed spread.

"And... before you go, could you help me with these arm prosthetics?"

"Sure. What do I do?"

"Take my blouse off and put it in the hamper, first. Then undo the harness and lift the arms off. That would be a big help. Then I'll be all set."

It was the complete innocence that threw me. Just take off her blouse. Like that was something I did everyday. Take off a beautiful girl's blouse.

I undid the buttons of her white cotton blouse and as it opened I saw the heavy harness that was across her back, front and shoulders. The only freedom her upper body had, was enjoyed by her unusually large, perfectly

formed breasts that jutted out unsupported from the openings in the harness.

She saw me staring. "Not a pretty sight, is it?" she asked.

"The harness doesn't look very comfortable," I agreed.

"There's a Velcro thing in front. under my... my breasts... and another one in back. Can you undo those, please?"

May hands were starting to tremble again, so I did the one in back first, then the front. I lifted the harness from her body. She had no arms, that I knew, but now I could see that her collarbones were the only indication of shoulders, breaking an otherwise smooth line from her neck to her rib cage.

She rolled from side to side, her big breasts waving back and forth.

"Thank you so much," she said, "That feels so good."

She saw me looking at her breasts. "What's wrong? Is something wrong with my chest?" She suddenly looked very worried.

"Nothing is wrong, Kathryn. I was just admiring them, that's all."

"You're sure? I do know that boys think boobs are some kind of big deal and

without arms or legs I was hoping boys would think I was, well, think I was OK if at least I had nice boobs. I mean that's about all I have to offer."

Her eyes were wide with a look of deep concern.

"You have very nice breasts, Kathryn. Really you do."

"Are they big enough?" she persisted," Boys like really big breasts, don't they?"

"They're perfect, honest."

She seemed satisfied with my answer and looked at her singularly

outstanding bosom.

"Now, where should I put this harness?" I asked.

She nodded in the direction of a closet door. "There's a hook in there on the right side. You could hang them there."

I found the hook, hung the harness with its plastic arms and hands and closed the door. When I turned around, Kathryn was trying to bite into the little fabric that protected her upper body from the friction of the prostheses.

"Want a hand?"

"Not really," she shot back, laughing. "I don't like the ones I have. You can help me take this off, though, if you would."

I helped her remove the protection and she shook her upper body, her breasts bouncing joyfully.

"Thank you," she said, lifting her face from the quilt. "That feels so much better."

"Do you want me to pull the covers over you?"

"No. I'm plenty warm, thanks. I get overheated so easily because I don't have as much skin area to cool me. That's what the doctor said. That's one of the reasons why I 'm so miserable when I'm all harnessed up."

"There are other reasons, too?"

"Lots of them." She wriggled around on the bed facing me. See, this is me. This is who I am, better or worse, this is the real package. All that other stuff is just to make Mother feel better. She knows it's not her fault but she still feels guilty for bringing a more or less helpless living torso into the world. I let her dress me up for the times when I have to meet people, but it's all phony baloney."

She wriggled around again, bending and twisting her little body until she had turned herself over onto her back. In the process the little white panties with the pink hearts had finally fallen completely off and the perfect limbless and very sexy looking Kathryn Borman lay before me.

"See? That's one of the other things. I can't move at all when I'm strapped into those prosthetics. It's like being in prison. I can't do much, but at

least I'm free this way."

She tensed her pectoral muscles and her breasts responded, nearly pointing to the ceiling, then relaxing to each side.

"Much better, she said. "Thanks again."

The house was quiet.

"Will you be all right?" I asked.

"Oh sure. Mom will go to bed and sleep it off and the maid will come in the morning and prepare me for the day. Wash me, feed me and... oh, one last thing before you go... I have to tinkle."

"Tinkle?"

"Yes. Mother gave me a lot of lemonade and stuff at the outing today and I don't think I'll make it through the night. The bathroom's just across the hall. Could you carry me in there, please?"

I tipped her warm body up into a sitting, or standing position on the bed.

"I really appreciate this," she said. "I often wish I could walk like other people do, or even stand up by myself. I try to walk. I do. Since my chest developed I can keep my balance on my... my down below place a little while. I can hold my boobies out to the side, sort of. Sometimes I pretend I have toes, right? Then tiptoe on my 'down below', but then I just topple over. When I was little I could kind of hop along on my 'down below', but

even then I'd flop down after three or four hops. I really have to depend on people to help me. Thank you so much." She arched her back. With their pink nipples poking out, her big, perfect breasts reached out to me.

I put an arm around her waist and slipped the other under her narrow bottom.

"This OK?" I asked.

"Perfect," she purred. "I like the way you hold me." She tipped her pelvis forward into my upturned palm. "It's different than when Mother or the maid holds me."

My heart had invented a new kind of calisthenics. I lifted her from her bed and carried her the few steps to the bathroom.

The decorations were elegant and yet simple. I placed Kathryn on a small chair beside the washstand and opened the lid of the toilet. She was watching me intently.

"This is such fun," she chirped. "You do things all different than Mother or the maid. "You know what?"

"What?"

"Would you like to help me do something new?"

"I guess so. What?"

"I've always wanted to tinkle facing forward. I saw this site on the web where it said it was OK to do that and... well, with Mother or the maid it never seemed like I should. Like it was unladylike or something. Boys go

facing forward, don't they?"

"Usually."

"But you have a thingy that sticks out, right? I saw that on the web, too. I've never seen one though. Not a real one."

I held Kathryn on the seat facing the bowl. She rocked a little from side to side, adjusting her position and then proceeded to empty her bladder.

"All done!" she chirped. "You can wipe me now. That was fun."

As I pulled a few sheets from the roll I asked, "Any special way to do this?"

"No. Just dry me. Haven't you ever done this before?"

"No. Not for someone else. Shouldn't be hard though. Might be different if you had a lot of hair." I began to pat her dry. "Just the outside, right?"

"The outside and just a little inside. What did you mean about 'a lot of hair'?"

"Nothing. A lot of women shave."

"They do? I thought... Oh, never mind."

"What?"

"Oh, I thought I was different... that way too. When fuzz started growing around my peepee I thought it was because I'd been playing with it all the time. It scared me. I stopped playing with it for a while but the hairs

kept growing anyhow. I think it's really ugly so I have the maid shave me every other day." I lifted her from the seat, turned the flush handle and headed back to her bedroom. As we walked I could feel a little movement in her 'down below'. It felt like she was trying to squeeze my hand.

"Sometime, when you come back, would you show me your peepee?" she asked as settled her back on her bed. "Does it really do tricks?"

"Does it what?" I asked.

"Do tricks. I read in this romance novel that a man's thingy can do wonderful tricks."

"That depends on what you mean by 'tricks'," I answered, trying my best to think of some kind of answer and still maintain a some little bit of decorum.

"I mean does it stand up and get big and can you make it do things? I can't make mine do very much at all. I really try, too. No arms, no legs and my peepee doesn't want to help. I get so depressed sometimes."

I was close to losing what little control I had, so I decided to make a strategic retreat and return another day.

"Kathryn, I think I'd better be going. will you be OK? We can talk more next time."

"You can call me 'Katty', if you want," she said, leaning against the pillows of her bed. I started for the door and turned back to wave.

"Bye bye," I said.

"Bye," she said and if my eyes weren't deceiving me, her big, perfect right breast lifted a bit, bounced and relaxed. "Bye bye," she said with an impish grin.

I called Mrs. Borman the following Monday to make sure everything had gone well.

"Oh, yes indeed, Mr. Johnston," she replied, "and thank you so very much for seeing us safely home. That was very generous of you. Oh, and I must tell you that our little girl has taken quite a liking to you. I hope you

don't mind."

"Not at all," I replied, quite honestly, "She's quite a young lady."

"Yes, I suppose she is getting to be a young lady. Time does fly. Now Ken, may I call you Ken?"

"Of course."

"Ken, I would appreciate it if you didn't mention to anyone that we needed your help getting home... You didn't say anything to anyone did you?"

"No ma'am, I didn't. If anyone asks, I'll simply remind them how hot it was that day and that should be enough."

"Very good. Now then I seem to recall asking you to come by sometime this week. Aside from refreshments, I need to ask you some things about our stores... I'll be needing a little more assistance now that Lawrence is

gone and I was thinking you could help. We could talk about it in private, don't you understand?"

"Yes, Mrs. Borman, I do understand. I'll be happy to be of whatever help I can."

Thursday afternoon I left my store in the hands of Randy, the shift manager and drove over to the Borman residence. The woodwork around the fieldstone building had been freshly painted. I rang the bell.

The maid, a woman of perhaps forty years, dark hair, neat starched uniform answered the door.

"Come in," she announced and held the door open. "Mrs. Borman is waiting in the den. This way, please."

The den was just to the left, across from the main staircase. "Oh there you are, Ken. Do come in."

The den was a small, comfortable room lined with books and hung with a few portraits of the family. Lawrence beamed at us from his position over a fireplace set with summer flowers. The painting of Mrs. Borman was to one side and the young face of Kathryn stared wistfully from the other. A bar with a few well-chosen spirits was at the far wall, sparkling with cut crystal.

"I did promise a 'little something', didn't I? I'm having my usual.

Miranda," she said, addressing the maid, "fix a 'little something' for Mr. Johnston."

With my 'little something' in hand, we sat and exchanged pleasantries.

"One thing that I wanted to ask you about is the amount of loss we've experienced in goods that disappear from the floor. Theft, shoplifting... whatever it is. Do you have any suggestions? I know it exists everywhere,

but in the main store downtown things seem to evaporate overnight and apparently the night watchman can't seem to find the problem... "

We had chatted for some time about the problem when noise behind me caused me to turn around. There, on her back, slowly working her way down the stairs was the half-clad figure of Kathryn Borman, her unrestrained bosom flailing back and forth as she wriggled her way down the steps.

"Hi," she chirped, as she saw me turn around. "Mother said you were coming over this evening. Hello, Mother. Am I too early?"

"Not at all, Dear," said her mother. "We were just finishing up." Mrs. Borman fixed herself another 'little something', or rather a substantial sized 'something' from the bar as Kathryn reached the bottom step and righted herself, leaning against the newel post.

"See? Without all that hardware on me I can get around pretty well."

Mrs. Borman nodded. "Lawrence and I thought about getting her a powered wheelchair, but then we'd have to get a van and an elevator and... "

"And then Daddy would have had to admit to everyone that you and he had a handicapped child, wouldn't you?" Kathryn interrupted.

"Fix your top, Dear," said her mother. "You're a big girl now. Mr. Johnston doesn't need to have your bare bosom staring him in the face."

"Yes, Mother."

Kathryn craned her neck and took into her lips a bit of the Chinese silk square that was around her neck and hung at her side. With a toss of her head, the fabric draped itself over her front. Or rather over half of her front. Her right breast remained defiantly uncovered, poised like a rocket ready for flight. Kathryn considered the results of her effort and nodded her head, more in acceptance than resignation. Her tapered hips were

clothed in a kind of black denim bag, with orange stitching defining the pockets and seams.

"Come here, Katty," her mother said, gesturing to her daughter, "Let me fix that."

Kathryn shifted her weight away from the post., her bosom swaying mightily. Suddenly she squeaked: "Oooh, Phooey!" and toppled over on her front.

"Ouch!"

"Help her, Mr. Johnston, would you please?"

"Certainly, Mrs. Borman. Are you all right, Kathryn?"

"Yes." She rocked from side to side, moving her squashed breasts from beneath her. "I tripped over these dumb shorts. I'm sorry. Mother can't I... "

No dear," her mother anticipated. Not while we have company."

"Kathryn's expression darkened.

"Mr. Johnston, could you put our daughter in that chair over here, please?"

I lifted The pouting girl and placed her in an elegant brocaded chair near her mother.

"Kathryn really should start wearing some kind of support," her mother said to me, as if her daughter wasn't right beside her. She pulled at the silk square and arranged it across her daughter's chest. "I don't know how she got so big. Must come from her father's side."

Kathryn stared blankly out the window at the setting sun.

"There, now, dear, That's better. Do you want something to drink? Dinner won't be for another twenty minutes."

Mrs. Borman turned to me. "Katty celebrated her twenty-first birthday last month, didn't you dear?"

Kathryn nodded. "I'd like that drink you made for me at the party, Mother, if you can."

Her mother got up from her wing chair and went to the bar.

"You'll have to hold it for me, though," Kathryn continued, "since I'm all covered up."

I raised an eyebrow. Kathryn looked at me, nodded at her mother and shook her head.

Her mother didn't turn around but shook her head and refilled her own glass. "Top you up, Ken?" she asked, over her shoulder. I nodded.

Mrs. Borman handed me my drink and returned to her chair with her drink and the one she had prepared for Kathryn. She held the glass to her daughter's lips.

"I suppose some explanation is in order," Mrs. Borman began. "Ever since Katty was a baby, Lawrence and I have tried to let her do as much as she possibly could. It was our thought that since she came into the world with... limitations, that we would give her every opportunity to develop whatever abilities she could."

Kathryn took another sip from the glass in her mother's hand.

"That was another reason I didn't want a powered chair," she said. "I really like doing things on my own."

"She learned to move about, as you can see," Mrs. Borman continued, "As a youngster she used to roll about, but since she's become a woman, I don't see her do that much any more."

Kathryn shook her head. "That's one of the down sides to having big boo...a big chest," she said. "I can't roll like that any more but I used to really zoom around, didn't I, Mother?"

"You did, indeed, Katty but as she's grown she's developed a number of other skills."

Mrs. Borman sipped from her drink.

"Now, I must explain some things. Ken, you're a valued member of the store family team and I know that Lawrence trusted you implicitly, both in business and on a personal level. In future days I'm going to rely on you

heavily and consequently you will be spending a good amount of time with Kathryn and me here at the house. As the youngest member of the family,

Kathryn stands to inherit the company at some future date and since she seems to get along with you, I expect that you would be the person on whom she can rely for whatever support she requires."

Mrs. Borman looked deeply into my eyes. "Are you comfortable with that arrangement?" she asked, a hint of steel in her voice.

"I am."

"Good. Now then, if we are to go along that route, you will have to work closely with Katty as well as with me. Therefore I must make sure that you know some things about our daughter."

Kathryn shifted her weight and stared at the floor.

"I must tell you," Mrs. Borman continued, "that our daughter has learned to use the body that fate has cruelly given to her in ways that are, well, how should I say? Unconventional, I guess, is a good way to put it."

I nodded.

"Oh, Mother you make me sound so weird!" Kathryn interrupted.

"I'm sorry, dear, I didn't mean it that way I just want Mr. Johnston to understand, that's all."

Kathryn adjusted her position and stared at the floor again.

"Dinner's ready, Ma'am," came the voice of Miranda from the doorway.

Mrs. Borman rose and started to pick up her daughter.

"Katty, honey, you're getting so big, maybe Mr. Johnston could carry you in."

"I'd be happy to," I said and carried Kathryn into the formal dining room and placed her in the seat indicated by her mother.

"You sit right here," said Mrs. Borman, indicating a place between her and her daughter.

I seated myself and turned to Kathryn. I noticed that her place had no silverware and that the goblet was on her right, set close to the edge of the table. As I watched, she shook the silk covering from her chest and without ceremony splayed her breasts onto the table at each side of her plate.

"Katty, I thought we agreed... "Mrs. Borman began.

"Mother, you know I can't get to the far side of my plate with my hands in my lap."

"Dear... "

"I mean I'll do it, but someone will have to feed me."

Kathryn leaned back in her chair and lowered her bosom below the table, leaving her bent over and clearly uncomfortable.

"Mother, please?"

"I really don't mind, Mrs. Borman, I said. "Whatever works for Kathryn is certainly no problem for me."

Her mother looked at her daughter with a stony expression, but nodded and reached for her napkin.

Kathryn resumed her earlier position and with her teeth delicately draped her napkin over her right breast.

"Did I hear you right? You did say 'hands', didn't you?" I asked her.

"Yeah. My little joke. Sorry."

The entr閟 were placed before us with a salad plate as well. Kathryn's was close to her on the left side.

Her mother ate in silence for a minute or two, then looked up at me. She spoke: "When Katty's chest began to develop, she was just so determined that she was growing hands" Then Mrs. Borman laughed, although obviously with some embarrassment. "Wasn't that funny?".

"But with only one stubby finger on each hand," Kathryn chuckled. "Pretty funny, eh?"

"It must have been disappointing when things didn't turn out that way," I suggested.

"Yeah, a little. They're really not fingers but sometimes I can make them stick out real far and... "

"Katty!" her mother interrupted.

"Sorry, Mother."

Dinner progressed smoothly, with conversation centered on the problems at the stores and how we were going to work together to solve them. Kathryn bent over her plate and nibbled gracefully from one item and another. She touched her mouth to the linen napkin from time to time.

At one point as I looked over to her, I realized that she was looking at me with that wonderful impish grin I had seen before.

I said nothing, but raised an eyebrow. She kept smiling and nodded at the tip of her breast that peeked out from under the napkin. Her right nipple had become greatly extended and was now fully, marvelously erect.

"See? My finger!" she whispered.

And she returned to her dinner.

"Ken, next week," said Mrs. Borman looking up from her plate, let's all get together again and see if we can plan some specific things. Would that work out for you?"

"Certainly, Mrs. Borman."

"Good. Now, I have to do some work in my study. Would you be good enough to see Katty upstairs? Are you finished, dear?"

"Yes, Mother. I actually can get up the stairs by myself," she said, looking up at me with those twinkling blue-green eyes, "but it's exhausting and takes forever. On a full tummy, maybe It would be better if I was carried. Do you mind?"

"Happy to oblige," I said picking her up. We started up the staircase. "How do you get up the stairs by yourself?"

"You smell good," she said. "Oh, up the stairs? Just the same way I get around the house. On my tummy, sort of like a caterpillar. Top parts first,

and then scooch up my bottom and push up and so forth. The carpet on the stairs is comfortable for my chest but it's slippery. I can do it better without clothes on. I can get a better grip."

We reached the top of the stairs and turned down the hall toward her room.

"Mother still has a hard time understanding that clothing is such an inconvenience for me. She always puts clothes on me whether I like it or not... "

"Kathryn?" I asked as we reached her room.

"Call me Katty, OK?"

"Sure." I put her down next to her bed.

"Help me with this silk thing, please. Put it over on my dresser, OK?"

As I folded the square I asked: "Katty, Are you comfortable with this business of inheriting the company?"

When I turned back, she was looking at her chest.

"Not hands, not fingers," she said quietly, half to herself, half aloud.

"I beg your pardon?"

She looked at me with reddened eyes. "I don't have legs, I don't have arms. I can't do things like other people. And I don't have hands or fingers,

just big stupid boobs with irresponsible nipples that go soft when I need them most. I'm sorry, Ken, I'm such a joke, really. How can I ever, ever become responsible for Daddy's business?"

"Your mother is managing pretty well, I guess, but it seems like that's what's going to happen and it will be a huge responsibility."

"It's really ironic, isn't it? Mother needing me? I'll need a lot of support," she said simply. "It's just that I really am so bleeping' helpless. I should be at the stores, learning about merchandising and how

product moves... all that stuff. I can't, though. I really can't. I've got a degree in economics and business management from home study, but what good does it do me. I might as well be on a desert island. Then, when she puts all my prosthetics on me and parades me around I feel even more useless. I might as well be a stupid store dummy. All dressed up and just totally useless. People stare at me and then look away like I don't exist.

Not only that, but with Mother's drinking so much these days, I'm getting really worried. "

"Katty, I've got a very odd idea."

"Yes?"

"It's about the thefts at the store."

"Tell me about it," she said, rocking back and forth and wriggling around on the plaited rug next to her bed.

"Um... are you OK?"

"Sure. Just want to get out of these shorts. Now, what is your idea?"

"How's your night vision?"

"My what?"

"Night vision. How well do you see at night?"

"Actually it's very good, I think. A lot better than Mother's or Daddy's. Why?"

"Just a nutty idea. You know those mannequins in the stores? The ones that model blouses and things?"

"I guess so," she said, and began to wriggle on her tummy toward the closet. nudging her discarded 'shorts' before her as she went.

"Wait a minute," she said and with some curious contortions, turned over onto her back.

"Since my boobs got so big I do better with a back stroke," she said, and began to wriggle on her back, her breasts arcing back and forth over her chest, pushing herself along with her narrow bottom.

"Now, what were you saying?"

"Some of them are pretty artsy and some of them are very life-like," I said.

"And?" she said, opening the closet door with her chin.

"How would you like to go into the spy business?"

She wriggled around to face me. "You mean at the store? At night?"

"Exactly. After the store closes and they turn off all the lights, you could replace one of the mannequins and see what's going down!"

"Oh, boy. I'll have to think about that one. You mean put me up on one of those pedestals all night and then... what happens in the morning?"

"I'll come and get you before anybody arrives."

"What about the cleaning crew?"

"You can hold still while they're there. They only do the floors and it takes about twenty minutes."

"But stuck up on a pole all night long? I don't know."

"Actually, the store's only dark for about five hours after the stock people are finished and I'll hang around to watch them and when they're done I'll set you up. What do you think?"

"Well, I like the idea of doing anything to be a part of the store operation, but it still sounds a little iffy." She nudged the 'shorts' into the closet and pushed the door shut with her forehead.

"Think about it," I suggested and started to leave.

"Ken?" she asked as she started back toward her bed.

"Yes?"

"You really want to help me?"

"Yes."

"I'm glad. Mom trusts you and I know Daddy did. I like you too. You treat me like a complete person."

"You are complete. Everyone's different. There's less of you than most people, but you are who you are and as far as I'm concerned, very complete. Very attractive, too."

She nodded. "Thank you. But I really know so little about... things. I mean I watch TV and I see stuff on the web but I still feel pretty out of it."

"I'll do whatever I can to help."

Her eyes began to twinkle and she smiled in that impish way I'd seen before. "I want to know some mo

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