procedures she had never even heard of. Far more of the pictures were of girls who looked about her own age than she would have expected. Most had been as flat-chested as her before the surgery, but they all looked beautiful afterward. And not only did their breasts look perfect, but natural as well.
Near the end of the album she found a photo she was almost sure was of Tasha. At least, the “after” shot was of Tasha.
In the “before” picture, her friend was almost unrecognizable.
She was still gazing at the pictures of Tasha when Teresa sat down next to her. “Are you considering breast augmentation?”
“No,” Alison said, a little too quickly, and felt herself flush. “Well, I–I don’t know,” she stammered. “Maybe.”
“I had implants when I was sixteen,” Teresa said. “Best thing I’ve ever done.”
Alison stared at Teresa. How was it possible? She was tall, and lithe, and perfectly proportioned. How could it have been faked? “Really?” she blurted. “You weren’t born looking like this?”
“Nobody is,” Teresa said flatly. “And believe me, I had nothing. I mean nothing, nada, zero. Zippo! But not anymore. Now I have exactly the shape I always wanted — nothing too much, nothing not enough. Nothing dramatic, except to me.”
“Who did them?”
Teresa rolled her eyes. “Dr. Dunn, of course — do you think he’d let someone else’s patient work here? And believe me, if you’re thinking about having anything done, I wouldn’t go to anyone else.”
“But he’s my stepfather,” Alison said, feeling her face redden again. “Just the thought of him looking at my…” Her voice trailed off in embarrassment, but Teresa only shrugged.
“I suppose that might seem…what? Awkward? But don’t forget, he sees thousands of breasts every year. And all kinds of other things, too. But believe me again, it’s not an intimate thing. He’s a doctor, you know? Hasn’t your regular doctor ever seen you naked?”
“Yeah, but—”
“But nothing,” Teresa declared. “If you’re even thinking about getting something done, don’t go anywhere else. You’ll have one moment of shyness, and then you’ll be past it. Ask anyone — they’ll all tell you the same thing.”
Alison looked back down at the photographs of the girl she was almost sure was Tasha, but Teresa reached over and flipped back a few pages. “That’s me,” she said, tapping one of the before pictures.
Alison gazed at the photograph of a torso in bikini panties that might as well have been a picture of herself — slim-hipped, with a small, flat stomach and virtually no breasts under small nipples. Then her gaze shifted to the after photograph, and she saw exactly what Teresa — and Conrad Dunn — had accomplished. Though she thought both Tasha and Dawn had breasts that were a bit too big for their physiques, Teresa had chosen perfectly. She had small, well-formed breasts that Alison knew would fit as well on her own body as they did on Teresa’s. They looked good, but were compact enough so they wouldn’t be a problem even if she kept running track in college.
Looking up she gazed at Teresa with something like awe. “He made you look absolutely fantastic!”
Teresa smiled. “Best thing I ever did,” she said again as the elevator door opened and Conrad stepped out.
“What’s the best thing you ever did?” he asked. “Besides come to work for me.”
“That was second best. Best was getting
Alison felt a rush of heat rise through her neck to her face. “Teresa! I didn’t say—”
“Oh, come on,” Teresa cut in. “The only way to get you past this is to just do it.” She turned back to Conrad. “She was looking at my before-and-after shots, and I think they looked pretty good to her.”
“Well, it sure wouldn’t be hard to do,” Conrad said, his gaze shifting to his stepdaughter. “What’s the problem?”
“She’s shy,” Teresa said.
Alison wanted to fall through the floor.
“Why wouldn’t she be?” Conrad countered. He sat down next to Alison. “You should have seen Teresa when she first came to see me — she could barely even speak.”
“Really?”
“Really,” Teresa said. “It was horrible. Even worse than the moment you just had.”
“Which is now over,” Conrad declared. He looked down at the open photo album on Alison’s lap. “How about getting me a prosthesis in B, Teresa?”
“Give me thirty seconds.” Teresa jumped up and disappeared down a hallway.
“Okay, so now that we’re talking about it,” Conrad said as soon as Teresa was gone, “how about if I gave you the procedure as a birthday present? I know it’s not a car, but you’re not old enough for one anyway.”
“I–I don’t know—” Alison floundered. “I mean, I don’t know what my mom and dad would say.”
Conrad grinned at her. “Well, I can’t speak for your dad, but I know your mother thinks it’s a good idea.”
“She does?” Alison cocked her head and looked at Conrad quizzically as the truth began to dawn on her. “Was this all Mom’s idea?” she asked. “Having you bring me up here to talk to Teresa?”
Conrad spread his hands helplessly. “Well, it wasn’t all her idea. I might have had just a tiny little part in it. But how else were we going to get you to start talking to me about it?”
“You could have—” Alison began, but before she could finish, Teresa reappeared, holding a small lavender gift bag.
“Just take these,” Conrad said, taking the bag from her and giving it to Alison. “It’s a pair of falsies, exactly like the ones Teresa tried out a few years ago. Just try them for a couple of days and we can talk about it later. Or not — it’s entirely up to you.”
Alison gazed at the bag as if there might be a rattlesnake inside, but then gingerly took it and peered inside. “You’re sure these are the same size as yours?” she asked Teresa.
Teresa nodded.
“Very conservative,” Conrad said. “Which is very smart. The last thing you want to do is too much. And if you decide you want to do it, we can have you completely recovered before your party. Hey,” he added as Alison looked at him suspiciously, “a girl should have her gift on her birthday, not a couple of weeks later.”
“You’re having a party?” Teresa asked.
“Sixteen,” Alison said softly.
“Perfect,” Teresa said, and gave her a warm smile.
Alison looked up at her stepfather and saw, for the first time, genuine affection on his face.
Was it the first time it was there, or was it the first time she’d let herself see it?
Maybe, after all, she’d been wrong about him.
“Let me think about it,” she finally said.
“Great!” Conrad stood up. “Mrs. Wilson is stable and ready to be discharged tomorrow,” he said to Teresa, then turned to Alison. “And it wasn’t all a ruse: I really did need to look in on her. Ready to go home?”
Alison nodded. “My homework’s still waiting for me.”
And so was her first opportunity to see exactly what she’d look like if she could perfectly fill a size B bra.
ALISON STARED DARKLY at the gift bag on her dresser.
Who put falsies in a gift bag?
Weird. Very weird.
And why did the gift bag seem to be getting bigger and bigger, even though she knew it wasn’t? The answer to that one was easy: it wasn’t the gift bag she was thinking about at all, or even what was inside it.
No, the real problem was the surgery the bag and its contents represented. Even as she tried to concentrate on scratching Ruffles — who was curled up next to her on the bed with nothing more on his mind than making sure she didn’t pause for even two seconds — she couldn’t quite get the idea of the surgery out of her mind.
For one thing, no matter what Conrad said, surgery was a big deal. People could die in surgery, even surgery more minor than implants. And what if she went through it all and didn’t like the results? Maybe she could have the
