The only thing left for her to wear laid on her bed. She'd bought it at Goodwill when she'd given her stuff away. There was a powder blue t-shirt that...had two naked women wrestling on it. Above them it said, "Wrestling Gals". Next to it was a white tennis skirt.Rose tried to put on the black bra she'd had originally, but it didn't fit her new chest. In fact, none of the bra's she'd worn last week did. Discarding the small bras, she looked at the remaining selection the ones she'd bought for no. I initiated the conversation. ‘Mom… have we met before? I mean Gwen and me?’ She looked back at me and shook her head. ‘No. Martha and Luke visited us only twice over the years and they didn’t bring her with them.’ She answered sadly. I caught the tone and also the look she gave her earlier, a sympathetic look. ‘Mom, what’s wrong?’ I asked in a small voice. She sighed putting the bacons and eggs in three separate plates along with the pasta from the oven. She placed the plates in the dining. "Shane was not surprised by Christy's answer. He knew that Christy had beenthe most vocal critic of his policy changes."Why don't you speak to me about them?" Shane replied."Mr. Moore, we did, but you don't seem to understand what we go through." What do you go through, Christy?" Shane retorted with sarcasm evident inhis tone."Do you have any idea what it's like to have to wear these things everyday?" Christy asked as she pointed to the three and a half inch, red suedehigh heeled pumps on her. I flatly denied any validity to it. I argued that there was no way a married man would ever 'share' his wife with another man, let alone with a group of African men! It was crazy to believe such a thing. It was probably just meant to tease us with the possibility, but would never really come to pass! But Jamal was persistent, and eventually, as with Muhhamad, I became convinced that there was a strong chance that we could all indulge a very long-standing fantasy of ours. For me, I was.