.. for that matter, I could have been a girl,the way my layered shirts and coats and pants obscured my figure. Had Ilooked like that to Mr. Starrett? ...Had Mom looked like that to GrandpaHaines? Surely not... I'd never noticed Mom, Dad, or Kiara lookingdifferent, except that we'd gotten more rumpled and disheveled as thedays wore on.Without conscious thought, I started stripping off all those layers ofclothes. It took a while. And I discovered that I wasn't myselfanymore. I wasn't a boy, nor. We talked for a bit and I set up a photo session for Saturday and, again, I got invited to lunch first.So, on Saturday, dressed in a polo shirt and khaki shorts, no briefs, I took my camera and two portable lights to her first floor apartment and rang the bell.When Ivy opened the door, she looked really nice; obviously she had taken time to prepare for being photographed. She had on a frilly scoop-necked blouse and a flowered, knee-length skirt."Come in, Alan, lunch is ready, put your things. More

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