"Now how in the world did that happen?"
Winnie giggled. "Don't ask me. But guess maybe I'll put on some myself before Doctor sees us. Joan? Is it all right for me to call you ‘Miss Joan' when Dr. Garcia is around? He's terribly strict."
"Tell him to go soak his head. Sho', sho', honey, if it makes you feel easier. But I'm ‘Joan' when he's not around. You're my coach. You're going to make a lady out of me." (That's my job, Boss. And a tough one, I can see.) (So you need help with it. Don't joggle my elbow; Winnie is our secret weapon.) (Okay. But this weapon night explode.) (Look, infant, I learned to cope with women long before your grandmother was born.)
"I'll be glad to help, any way I can... Joan dear."
"Then you can start by convincing dear Doctor that I'm well enough for a tub bath. I stink. Ladies ought not to stink."
"Why, you had a bed bath' not two hours ago!"
"I need more than a bed bath and you know it. Sell him the idea that you can help me into and- out of the tub and keep me from falling. If you have trouble with him, fetch him in and I'll throw a tantrum. If he gives us grief, I'll make him scrub my back." Joan grinned. "So get lipstick on us; then go find him."
(Joan Boss honey, see what I mean about the high neckline job? See what it does for us?) (I know that I feel somewhat more covered up. But only somewhat. Eunice, those breast panels are wicked.) (Oh, full, they're not even transparent, just translucent. But that's why this nightgown is so much sexier than the Cretan one. Men always mistake bare skin for sexiness. A typical male mistake~) (Maybe so, but I have never in my long life complained about bare skin.) (I won't argue, Joan, but I'm going to pick out our clothes. Until you start thinking like a woman. But I had a specific reason for picking the gown which is—superficially—more modest. So that we will have it on when Jake comes in.)
(Eunice, Jake has probably gone home. He's had a rough time.)
(So he has and what do you think I'm talking about? He's still in the house; he would not leave without saying goodbye.)
(Oh, nonsense, Jake and I aren't that formal.)
(Boss, Jake is a gentleman to his fingertips. He might feel free to duck out without formality in dealing with his old friend Johann Smith—but not with a lady. ‘Johann' is one thing, ‘Joan Eunice' is another matter.)
(But he knows I'm Johann.)
(So? Then why did he kiss our hand? Joan, I'm going to have to watch you every second; you don't know anything about men.)
(I spent almost a century being one.)
(Irrelevant. Hush up; he maybe here any time, I've got to tell this bang. Joan, the last few months before I was killed I was Jake's mistress.)
(How was the old goat?)
(Is that all you have to say?)
(Eunice, you think I know nothing about men. Possibly true, in one sense. But I can teach you about men—from the inside—the way you can teach me about men from the outside. Jake is tough. Yet I saw him collapse twice in grief over you. Understandable that your death would upset him some. Understandable that it was a strain on him to help out in the masquerade of not letting me know that I had inherited your lovely body. Nevertheless you were just a girl he had known through business, one who helped him with my affairs. Not one he knew intimately. Yet this tough old lawyer collapsed twice. Over you. So he must have known you far better than anyone guessed. How? And where? Only one answer. In bed.)
(Not always in bed, you dirty old man with a girl's name. In bed, certainly. But lots of other places, too. In his car. Is your car. Several times in this house—)
(Be damned! Then all my servants know it, too.)
(I doubt if they suspect. We used your study to work—and did work—and Cunningham didn't let us be disturbed any more than he would have disturbed you and me. You asked a rude question, you'll get a blunt answer. The old goat was good. And quite daring in grabbing every chance. We hardly missed a day up to the time I was killed.)
(A couple of j.d.'s, you two. Well, ‘My hat's off to the Duke.')
(Jealous, Boss?)
(No, envious. I wouldn't have been up to it the first day] laid eyes on you. Impossible. And now still more impossible. Just envious. The old goat.)
(Not impossible, Joan.)
(Eh?)
(I was shocked when I saw Jake. My death must have hurt him terribly. I know it did, he loved me. But we can pull him out of it, Joan, you and I—only this time we won't use your study.)
(What? Why, that's incest!)
(Don't be ridiculous, dear. I was no relation to Jake and I don't think you are, either.)
(I mean it would feel like incest. Jake? Jake? Eunice, when I admitted that J supposed that I would— eventually—be ‘actively female,' I didn't have Jake in mind.)
(I did.)
(Then get it out of your mind! Forget it. Dr. Hedrick if you want to—at least I'll try to cooperate—after I get used to being female. Your former husband, Joe, I owe that to yo-u—)
(Not Joe.)
(Why not? You spoke highly of him in that respect, and I always thought you thought well of him in other respects. Not urging you—hell, I can't think about sex other than abstractly about any man; rm not yet reoriented. But I had already decided to go along with your need for Joe.)
(Boss, I can't. Not with Joe. Because he was my husband. To him, I'd be a zombie. A walking corpse. I doubt if he would touch us... and if he did, I'd be terribly tempted to tell him. Tell him I'm still here. Can't. I know it.)
(And 1 can't make it with Jake. It's the same with Jake, too, you know. A walking corpse.)
(Not quite the same. Surely, he knows we're a patchwork, your brain Sand my body. But he loved us both. He's loved you much longer than he's loved me. While Joe doesn't even know you.)
(Jake loved me? Eunice, you're out of your mind!)
(Impossible, dear; I don't have one to be out of. Why do you think Jake put up with your bad temper? Not for money; he's rich, even though he's not as rich as you are. Why is he still around at all? For me? He would have avoided seeing me—this body—had it been possible; it hurts him. He stuck because you needed him. Look, dear—Joan, I mean—Joan, this is your big sister Eunice talking, you listen to her. Be nice to Jake. Be a sweet girl to Jake. Then let things run easy. I'm not asking you to do anything you don't want to do—heavens, no! Jake would spot it if you forced yourself; he's no fool about women. Just be sweet. Don't be Johann, be Joan. Be little and feminine and let him take care of you.)
(Well—I'll try. Jake is going to think I'm off my rocker.) (He's going to think you're a darling girl. It's possible he'd rather be your father than what he was to me. If so, we'll be good and let him baby us.)
She sighed. (I'll try, Eunice. But I don't know. Jake!)
(That's my good girl, Joan. Be helpless and female; Jake will do the rest.)
Dr. Garcia bustled in, came straight to the bed. "What's this about a tub bath? I thought I made it plain that you weren't to rush things."
(Don't let him argue, Joan!) (Watch me trip him!) "Oh Doctor, you startled me so!"
"Eh? How?"
"Bursting in on me without warning. Is that nice?"
Garcia looked baffled. "Miss Smith, I've been here more than a year and I've always entered this room without ceremony. Am I to understand that you find it offensive? After all this time?"
"That's not the point, Doctor. When you first came here you were attending a helpless old man. Then you were helping Dr. Hedrick with a female patient who was paralyzed, and unconscious most of the time—and I do appreciate the care you gave that helpless patient, for I am she. But things change. I am now having to learn to be a woman and, if possible, a lady. It's not easy. Won't you help me by showing me the formal courtesies you show other ladies?"