He drove her to Liz’s bungalow where she ducked into the bathroom with the bag. Twenty minutes later, she walked out looking for all the world like ... twelve year old girl. Jake was always amazed by Dawn’s transformations. He was also amused that, unlike the other ninety-nine-point-nine percent of the women in the world, she took off her make up to look younger. Dawn was wearing a short plaid skirt, a white blouse, knee-sox, and saddle shoes. Her outfit was demure and sweet, her face fresh. What is this, some kind of operetta? I thought. But, I'm on a roll here; so, I decided to cut right to the chase."Mrs. Honeysuckle," I asked, "Is it true you have a flower that talks?" I asked, as I tried to keep a straight face—hoping to get the facts."I do," she said, "I'll show you what flowerbed he's in—then you're on your own. I'm not going to go near that guy! He uses such terrible language. Yesterday... he called me a Slut." Well, that wasn't very nice," I said, sympathizing with. More

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