How could this be?"Easy," said Denise when I asked her. "I had the baby. Tinka had the breasts and the desire to nurture another human life. Our endo ...ad the hormone women secrete at birth that causes breasts to make milk. Put them all together, and what you see is what you get."Tinka smiled up at me. "That's right, Andrea honey. If you have real breasts, you can make real milk. You do have real breasts, courtesy of your pregnant wife. Does that suggest anything to you?" Did Monica know about. I looked down at my tiny bumps, and tried to imagine them bigger than softballs. I couldn't. I looked again at Mom and imagined myself looking like her.Mom noticed my attention to her chest. Embarrassed again, I told Mom what Tammy had said about me someday getting as big as her there, and asked her if it was true."Small like you are now or big like me, you are all female now, and that body of yours will always have boobs. But to answer your question, dear, my mother was pretty big in the. Other than his socks and shoes, Jimmy, small, blond, slim, narrow-hipped, perfectly formed, was naked, but Henry wasn’t. His shirt was buttoned up to cover the tattoos on his chest and arms, and his trousers and briefs were pulled down to just above his knees, so that he could jerk them up and disappear back into the tree line behind them if someone discovered them. He was wearing a face mask over his nose and mouth to hinder identification. He was a stocky man, muscular, but also a bit pudgy. I glared right back. "You're asking for my cooperation," I said. "If you want it, jump down off that Goddamn high horse and give a little back."He made a face. He clearly didn't like it, but neither did he want somebody going into the hospital—or the morgue or wherever—and kicking and screaming about where was dead Susan." ... No, not yet," he finally said."And her condition?" I persisted."Well, Larry, since she, uh, died—" Her condition?" I demanded. He still hesitated. "Jim, don't be a prick.