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After she had her coffee and some natural

cereal, we set out for the department stores. Although

it was fun shopping with her, it reminded me of when

I had gone with her, my grandmother and Rachel to

get my prom dress and shoes. That memory kept me

from enjoying myself, and Aunt Zipporah was perceptive enough to see that something was

bothering me. I told her what it was and she nodded. "Alice, I didn't say anything when I went to

Mom and Dad's and saw you had gone back to

wearing these clothes and not doing anything with

your hair and your face, but I'd like to see you try

again."

I shrugged. "What difference will it make?" "I think, just as before, it will help your selfimage, but it will be good for the restaurant," she said,

half- kidding.

"You think customers will be turned off by

someone limping around and looking like I do?" I

asked, maybe a little too sharply.

She held her gaze. And then she smiled. "Tyler's not all wrong about some of the things

he believes, Alice. He always says if you're not happy

with yourself, you can't expect other people to be

happy with you, right? That's not a mean thing to tell

you, and I'm not saying we won't love and want you

no matter what you decide, but will you at least think

about it? I'd be more than happy to take you shopping

for some clothes. Maybe I'll even buy something more

up-to-date and get Rachel off my back," she added. "If you do, I will," I challenged.

"It's a deal. Let's get all this back first, and on

our way we can see how it's going at the cafe." We started for home. About two miles out of

the village, we saw the boy who had been in the cafe.

He was walking with his head down. He carried that

same notebook and--speaking of clothes--wore what