* * *An hour later, we'd driven across town, to the local mall. Amandaneeded new clothes--a whole wardrobe of them--and accessories. Sheneeded a new...look, too--hair, makeup, the works. I had a plan tochange her life--and mine--for the better. But, first, we had tochange her.Don't ask me how the beautician accomplished the feat, but, usingrollers and pin curlers and bobby pins, she somehow managed to giveAmanda a fifties hairstyle that was, as best as I can describe it,combed back in front. ”“I suppose so. How are you doing? How far can we walk?”“I’m fine. We can keep going as long as you like. I haven’t really had any issues with my feet like the other girls. I’m pretty much at the point where I have to stop karate, because my belly is going to get in the way. Not to mention other things!”I chuckled, “You didn’t need any help in the breast department!”“No, I didn’t! I feel fine and I’m happy. That’s good enough for me!”“Me, too,” I said, squeezing her hand.“How are YOU. More

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