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First of all, it’s not your fault. If Leliana and the Chantry do something stupid because of the information you gave them, that’s on them, not you.” I sniffled doubtfully, and he rocked me gently. “And honestly, given what you’ve said about Meredith – I’m not convinced this was the worst idea. Not that I condone murder, but the Chantry needs a little shaking up. Maybe something like this will force them to stop and reconsider where they’re heading and who they have leading the way. A bit of embarrassment could actually go a long way. Maybe that terrible future you’ve seen – with a war between mages and templars – maybe that can be prevented, now.”He kissed my temple, and I relaxed in his arms. I wasn’t certain that he was right; the tensions between mages and templars had been rising for a long time, and one zealot living or dying shouldn’t be enough to make the difference. And what if it did prevent a war? I knew only a little about the outcome of that war – enough to know. . liked me? But that ..." Doesn't make a lot of sense? Well, some boys have trouble figuring outhow to get a girl to notice him. So they'll try anything that at leastgets your attention. Of course, it could mean he's a bit of a jerk,too. Sometimes, it's hard to tell." So what should I do?" Try being extra nice to him, and see what he does."I thought about how Mark had acted when I had complimented him on hisskirt."Okay, Dad. Thanks."After supper, I went back upstairs and rubbed the lamp."That was rather quick. Ready for your last wish?" the genie said whenhe appeared.I nodded and said, "I wish that both boys and girls could wear whatevermakes them happy and comfortable, skirts or pants." An excellent wish, mistress. It shall be done, and then I must say mygoodbyes."I thanked him, and he disappeared, and then I got ready for bed.The next morning, the lamp was gone,I got dressed, (picking a skirt today), had breakfast, and went toschool, curious how my last wish would work out.When I.
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The lull periods without customers were the worst. It was not my style to show exuberance. I preferred to let the customer notice a unique feature, and then to expand on it, matter-of-factly. But I found myself pointing out minor details about vehicles in an effort to make them stay for another minute or two. When I was alone during these lull periods I went over what I knew about Ginny. Danny was her husband, the soldier I’d seen in the bedside picture. He’d been killed in action, probably in Iraq, and Ginny had vowed to honor his life for a year after his death. Did that mean that she would not date? Did she feel guilty about having a good time at the circus? Should I have told her it was not a date? Or was it the kiss the night she’d driven me home? My attempt to kiss her goodnight was a mistake. We would have four more weeks of class, twenty trips to and from class. Somehow, I would conduct myself as a gentleman, treating her with the respect a war widow deserved. We would get.

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