.stop staring atyour feet!" she scolded me. When we stepped outside, the winter windwhipped my skirt and coat around my knees, and the frigid air cut...hrough my stockings like a knife. "Now I know why you're wearingpants!" I groaned."Better get used to it, sweetheart. You look like a girl dressed likethat, but I don't know how convincing you'd be in pants." Whatever," I sighed. My girlish voice was becoming a little morenatural to me, and we bantered back and forth to take our minds off. Sangre de Cristo poked its snow covered peak into their path, and they piled up before it, threatening to swallow the mountain whole. It was a scene Mary the artist appreciated, had painted many times in its different moods, and would have been lost on Mark the engineer. I was beginning to like my life as Mary, as Mark kind of faded into the background. I finally decided I was too chilled, and went back inside to make some hot cocoa.Chapter 7Lisa and Franco finally showed up as I finished my. More

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