Lettie was working on one of her lessons for home-schooling when her phone rang.  As she had been doing since the winter dance, she let it go to voicemail if her caller ID didn’t know the number, then played the message.  It was Dan, one of the juniors from the high school.  He was calling to ask her on a date.

Lettie sighed.  The night of the dance itself had been wonderful, and her dates with Ty since then had been very good, but she wished the other boys from the school would stop calling her.  She knew they were only calling because the latest of her powers had first publicly manifested itself at the dance, in front of them; they were hoping they could get her boobs to grow to gigantic proportions and discover firsthand what they felt like.  Lettie deleted the message.

Ty had been wonderful and, to Lettie’s delight, a perfect gentleman.  She knew it couldn’t be easy for him, not pursuing her breasts when they always started growing whenever he was around, but he had never made a play to get his hands on them, even when the couple was kissing and squeezing each other in passionate hugs.

Lettie smiled.  Ty told her his own popularity at the school had skyrocketed.  While that was especially with the guys, even the girls were hitting on him more, he said, but he didn’t care; he just wanted to go out with her.  Ty’s sister, Cat, confirmed his story.

Lettie’s mom entered from outside with the mail.  “Lettie, here’s something you’ve been waiting for, from your Aunt Daphne.”

The teen pulled away from the schoolwork and faced her mom.  “Is it the package from Grandma Vi?” she asked.

Her mom nodded, handing her the package.  “It looks like the one about your … condition.”

“My powers, Mom,” Lettie said.  “They’re superpowers.  They’re weird, but their superpowers.”

Her mom got a quizzical look.  “Aren’t superpowers, by definition, pretty weird?” she asked.  “I mean, not very many people have them, and --”

“I’m gonna go look through this,” Lettie said.

“Go,” her mom said.  “You need to learn about this at least as much as 20th-century history.”

It was a good two hours before Lettie returned downstairs.  She was carrying a book that looked like it would have fit in the package, smiling a slightly vacant smile.

“Well?” her mom asked.  “What did you find out?”

“Well, my biggest questions are still unanswered,” Lettie said.  “But I did find out what Grandma Vi’s second power was.”

There was a brief silence before her mother said, “Well?  Spill it!  What was the power?”

Lettie gestured toward the living room.  “Let’s sit down and I’ll read you the story that tells what it is.”

As they walked to the living room, her mom said, “You’re reading me a story?  That’s a role reversal.”

Lettie found her page and started reading:

“Unfortunately, I can’t recount most of my exploits from my career with the CIA because they are still classified, but this one isn’t, and it may give you some feeling for how that work went.

“I was assigned to go undercover to get information from Grigori Antonov, a Soviet official in Moscow.  I spoke fluent Russian and had perfected my Polish dialect, and went in as a Polish citizen -- Poland was then a Soviet satellite nation -- named Alina Lubomir.  I stood my full height, and made sure going in that my build was at its best.  Our intel had shown that he liked big bosoms, and that was something I could definitely accomplish.

“It took weeks of being in Moscow to establish me there.  Eventually, they placed me at a party at which Antonov was present.  He looked at me, with my athletic body and my double-D boobs, and was interested.  Then I increased my bustline by about an inch, and he was hooked.

“We started dating regularly, and I increased my bustline by another inch every few weeks until my breasts got to G-cup size.  At that size, I felt like they were too big to risk enlarging too much more.

“The uncomfortable part of things was what was coming.  In the late 1960s, when this mission took place, a female agent, especially with my powers, was expected to do whatever it took to get the intel, including -- literally -- sleeping with the enemy.  With Antonov’s fascination with my bosom, getting him to that point became easy.  Dealing with the feel of his hands groping me was the hard part.  The truth was, he disgusted me, but I didn’t dare let him know that; it would jeopardize my mission, and could cost me my life.

“In those days, information was still carried on microdots, a tiny version of microfilm.  My task was to get at some specific files Antonov had.  He let slip one evening, in the aftermath of our love-making, that he had stored many important items in a safe built into a hidden panel in his wall.

“I’m sure Antonov thought the safe was secure, since it had special security devices that would blow up its contents if a break-in was attempted, and he didn’t give me any hint of the combination.  What he didn’t know was that I was able to shrink so small that I didn’t need to break in.  Even an airtight safe was no match for my shrinking powers, especially if it had electronics, as this one did.  I could become so tiny that I could simply walk in on wires that were as wide to me as Interstate highways.

“Once inside, I would enlarge enough to take pictures of the microdots inside, then shrink back down and exit.  Remember, by this time I could change the size of my clothes and small items I had with me, such as the tiny spy camera the CIA had issued to me.

“I continued in this role for months -- nearly a year.  And, no, if you’re one of my descendants, Antonov is not your father;  I was very careful about that, and I can assure you that you are a legitimate child or descendant of mine and my husband.

“Finally, as Antonov’s position was beginning to become compromised, I was given some new orders.  I had to replace one microdot with another that had false information, and to offer Antonov the chance to escape with me -- or kill him.

“I was able to successfully complete the first of those two tasks.  The second, I never had a chance.  Antonov had finally realized I was a spy, but he couldn’t bring himself to kill me, and knew his own life would be forfeit either way, so he killed himself.  He died protecting me, when I had done nothing but betray and endanger him.  With my powers, I was able to get out safely.

“It was moments like Antonov’s suicide that led me to question and ultimately leave my career as a field agent with the CIA.  Fortunately, I found Wallace, who wound up becoming the love of my life and the father of all my children.  My children know about my shrinking powers, but he’s the only one I’ve shared my other power with.  Let’s just say we enjoy it and leave it at that.”

As Lettie finished, she looked up at her mother, who was staring off, wide-eyed.

“Well, that explains why she never told us about her second power.  In her day, that wasn’t the kind of power you’d talk about publicly,” Mom said.

Lettie nodded.  “It can still be kind of embarrassing now -- although it is fun getting guys to fall all over me, and I don’t mind letting the power go around Ty, as long as I stay decent.”

As she said it, Lettie felt her own breasts grow a cup size.

Her mom gestured toward her daughter’s chest.  “You’re getting better control,” she said.  “Thinking of Ty like that would have added at least six inches to your bustline a month ago.”

Lettie blushed.  “Yeah,” she said.

“So, you still haven’t answered the burning question,” Mom said.  “What’s the fourth power?”

Lettie frowned.  “That’s what she doesn’t say,” the teen answered.

“Really?” Mom asked.

Lettie nodded.  “She talks about shrinking, breast expansion and ‘two growth powers,’ but she doesn’t specify what they are.”

Mom’s eyes flashed to her right for a moment.  “Maybe she didn’t know,” she said.  “They had four genes they were able to identify that could trigger four powers, but they may not have known what they were.”

“I’m just hoping it’s not something that’ll make me an even bigger freak, like getting fatter or a huge booty,” Lettie said.

Mom smiled encouragingly.  “Some men like a fat belly, or a large fanny,” she said.

“Yeah, I guess,” Lettie said.

Mom thought for a moment.  “Besides, I’m not sure how those powers would work, in light of your existing abilities,” she said.  “I mean, all your other powers are triggered by emotions, and the emotions seem to fit the powers.  What kind of feelings would fit with a fatter belly or a bigger backside?”

Lettie shrugged.  “I dunno,” she said.  “Feeling fat?  Feeling constipated?”

Mom chuckled.  “Those aren’t really emotions, are they?”

Lettie laughed.  “No, I guess not.”

Her mom got up and crossed the room, patting Lettie’s knee.  “Well, that answer, if we ever get it, will have to come another day,” she said.  “For now, you need to get back to your class work.”

Lettie looked up with an eyebrow raised.  “Back to 20th century history?” she asked.

Mom smiled.  “I think your grandma’s journal has given you enough 20th century history for one day.  You wanna try an art project instead?”

Lettie smiled.  “Sounds good,” she said.