“All right, you can look now.”

Cindy Lou had dressed herself in the clothes from the bed. Of the clothes I’d bought, she’d picked a denim skirt and a fuzzy pink sweater. They suited her. She’d even managed to fix her hair and put on light makeup somehow.

She stood about 5’6” in her bare feet. (I’d forgotten to buy shoes.) Her eyes were bright blue in a heart-shaped face, her hair blonde and a little longer than shoulder length. She had full lips, which were smiling at me, and dimples, which were showing now. “You’re right, that is better,” she said.

I had to agree, though I’d probably trip over my tongue if I tried to say so. Instead, I said, “How long will you be safe to stay out?”

“Oh, about a day or so. Why?”

“Can you, uh, still…eat and drink stuff?”

“I’m still normal when I’m like this, yes,” she said. Then she grinned. “Oh ho. Can it be that, even after having me inside your body for a month, you’re having a hard time working up to ask me out?”

I had to admit, she had me dead to rights.