That's what my mother always did. Another memory. Even more of my life was being pieced together by my much-abused brain. I had a vivid memory of Stef...n being sick on the landing. Strange memory. Another of all the children in our bed with us on Christmas morning; it brought a tear to my eye. The house was working its magic. I even remembered we got milk from a milkman, and resolved to engage his services, if indeed there still was one.Yes, I belonged in this house, and it belonged to me with. Well I'll be damned. You can be my housewife any day." Uh, thanks. But really, I don't want to be a housewife." Are you sure?" Mrs. Jacobs thought for a second. "Positive?" Yes," I replied. "Positive." What if you were *forced* to become a housewife?"It was as if an arrow had been shot straight through my heart."F...forced?" I stammered, stumbling backwards."Yes, forced. I once had a boyfriend who wanted me to 'force' him todress up in women's clothing. Isn't that weird? Of course I'm not. More

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