There was something about painting one of my lovers that was almost more intimate than making love. Of course, doing both was best!What surprised me, ...hough, was that I was still wrapped in the warm feeling of my grandpa’s words of praise. I didn’t think it was possible, but I was as proud of my work in the meat market as I was of my painting. I’d managed the department for a whole day and did it well. Not only was I an artist with paint but I also had a marketable skill.Tomorrow, the feeling. "It won't bethe same. Not without Mindy."If anyone knew that things change, people change, structures change, yetlife continues, it was Santa Claus. He'd been around for some of the mostprofound changes in the history of the world and nothing had kept him fromcarrying out his task each year. Mrs. Claus was certainly not going tolet it happen this year. She went to the den, to Santa's personalcomputer and looked through the files there, trying to determine who hisfavorite TG Fiction. "I'm going to die of embarrassment." She complained. "Jamie, look up." She heard, and was a little surprised, when Noah shined a penlight in her face. "What are you doing?" She asked, and Noah stayed quiet, before standing up again. "She seems to be fine physically." He said, and shrugged. "Did you have some sort of hypnotherapy when you were younger?" Tia asked. Jamie shook her head. "Not that I can remember." She said, then thought about it again. "Wait. When I was a teenager, we went to see. "Nancy is my first mommy and Sharon is mysecond mommy."Karen wondered how the little girl knew that Karen's mother's first namewas Nancy. "How old are you, Dennis?" Karen asked.The little girl seemed to stiffen and answered in a lowered voice. "I'mDenise now, Karen. I haven't forgotten that I was Dennis, but I've tried tobury those memories. And if you must know, I can tell you that I would havebeen 17 years old tomorrow."Karen was spooked by the answer. "How old are you, Denise?" she.