A Time to Every Season

by Tigger
Copyright 2002, All Rights Reserved

 

Part II

 

Chapter 11: Playing Fair or Not Playing At All?

From her seat on the Nautilus press bench, Audrey eyed the positioning of the weight pin with some trepidation. Not because of the weight alone, nor because it represented twenty-five percent over her own body weight. Neither of those really mattered and she knew that she could successfully press the weight above that pin. No, she had other, less well understood reasons for her uncertainty.

"C'mon, Rockwell, get in position," another voice ordered. "You have five more reps to do before we can call this little workout complete and you're burning daylight. I'd offer to reduce the weight, but you're up for it and it's time you took a shot at it."

"Yes, Darryl," Audrey said in as saccharine sweet a voice as she could manage. It wasn't up to Darla's standards, but it wasn't bad, she thought.

Audrey laid down on the bench, setting her back firmly on its strong, supportive surface, and then reached up for her grip on the long steel lift bars.

"Ready?" Darryl asked?" She nodded, so he ordered "Go!"

With a deep breath, Audrey put her shoulders and arms into the lift, and the weight moved up smoothly. Releasing the breath slowly, she lowered the weight back down in a slow, controlled manner whereupon she repeated the process. The second was almost as easy as the first, and the third was almost as easy as the second, but as the bar came down that third time, Audrey could feel the burn of lactic acid building in her biceps and triceps. She pushed through the burn for the fourth lift, but this time the weights clanked as she lowered them in not quite so controlled a manner. With more grit now than strength, she began the fifth lift. She felt the odd little twitches in her arms that signaled she was nearing her limits, but she continued the lift to her full arm extension. The weights clanked even louder on falling this time, and she was about to let go of the apparatus when Darryl stopped her.

"Go for it, Audrey," Darryl hissed into her ear. "Just one more for the record, okay? C'mon, you can Do it, you CAN DO IT! Breathe and go for it, Rocky. DO IT!"

Audrey wanted to tell him where he could stick his record, but years of listening to the unreasonable demands of coaches stifled her comments. Closing her eyes, Audrey took the ordered breath and pushed again. *God, it hurts!* her mind screamed as the burn became fierce and unrelenting. "WAY TO GO!" Darryl cheered. "Just a few more inches - you can DO it!"

Those few inches seemed like miles to Audrey, but she listened to Darryl and kept pushing. *Just a little bit more,* she told herself, *just a little bit more. . .almost. . .*

"THERE!" Darryl's scream was triumphant, "THERE! You've DONE it!!"

Suddenly, the weight on her arms eased as Darryl helped her lower the weight. Her head was spinning madly from the strain and from shock of success when she found herself jerked off the bench and led into a mad jig. Her already dizzy head became worse and she tried to stop. When she did, she found herself being hugged, tightly. *What?!?* her confused mind wondered.

"You did it, Audrey! That's was GREAT! I've never been able to do five reps let alone six at that weight. God, but that was WONDERFUL! YOU were wonderful!"

*He sounds as happy as I should be, and yet, I just beat him at the only exercise we've ever done that he's been consistently better at than I have been. I don't understand,* she thought and then repeated that statement aloud.

The hug broke and a towel was wrapped around her sweat-soaked head. "Understand what, Audrey?" Darryl asked. "What's TO understand? You just benched 150 lbs six times. That's GREAT!"

Audrey dropped back down onto the bench and stared up at the wide-grinned visage of Darryl. "But. . but you're a boy. . ."

"You just noticed?" he snapped back cockily. "I am crushed."

"Oh you. You know what I meant. I just out-lifted you. You said so yourself, and yet, you seem more pleased about that than I am."

"Well, of course I am pleased. I haven't been busting my butt for the past couple of months to see you to get worse instead of better. Why wouldn't I be pleased?"

"Because I BEAT you, dammit! You're a guy and I just beat you at a guy thing!"

Darryl looked at her for a few moments. "Well, I hadn't thought of it THAT way," he said, somewhat sardonically.

"Guys are supposed to get mad when women do things like that," Audrey snapped, getting upset with him for not understanding the world as she did.

"Well, I am pretty sure I am a guy, although I am too much of a gentleman to make sure just now."

"DARRYL!" Audrey growled.

"Oh give it over, Audrey," he said in a gentler tone. "I've been expecting you to out-lift me since we first started working out together and I am not angry about it. Heck, you've been running my butt into the ground since that first day and I haven't complained. That you would be capable of better performances than me is to be expected. And I am glad for you."

"Glad for me," Audrey repeated.

Darryl chuckled, and sat down on the bench beside the tall girl. The small surface brought forced them close together. So close, in fact, that their bare thighs touched from hip to knee.

"Look, you're genetically gifted in ways that I am not. You have height on me, as well as certain advantages that allow your muscles to strengthen more than mine ever will. That's just a fact. On the other hand, with your height and body mass, you are not likely to be world class in women's gymnastics, are you?"

"Well, no, but . .I . . that is, why aren't you. . .I mean. ."

"Why am I not acting like an outraged male shown up by a mere woman?" Darryl said the words with such bluster that even Audrey smiled. "Because while I am a very good athlete for my size, you are an outSTANDING athlete, irrespective of your gender. I mean, aren't you the one who plans on competing in the men's pentathlon next Olympics?" Audrey nodded slowly. "Is that an unreasonable expectation of yourself or are you that damned good?"

A small smile broke through Audrey's frown. "Oh, I'm that damned good, all right!"

"Well, I'm not. I am just about as good as I can possibly ever be, given my size and musculature, but I will never be good enough to compete at that level. Simple as that. But you are! Athletically, you're one in a hundred million, and what is even more amazing is that you've managed to attain that level without giving up on any of your beauty," Darryl stopped and grinned as Audrey blushed furiously at the unexpected compliment. "What you need to understand is that *I* know you're that damned good because you are, and that I am in no way diminished by that simple fact. The things you can do make YOU special, but they don't make me less of a man or less of a person because there are things I can do well that make me special in MY own right."

Audrey looked at Darryl in silence for what seemed to the young man to be a very long time. It took all his will and all of Jane Thompson's years of training not to flinch under her steady gaze. Finally, she shrugged. "You are a very unusual person, Darryl."

He managed a slight grin. "I just told you I was special," he said, "but then, I also said you are, too. Now, c'mon. It would really tick me off if Ms. Thompson wouldn't let you come tomorrow because you were late for breakfast."

The pair said their farewells and Audrey jogged easily up the trail to the mansion. It was only when she was showering, and replaying the incident in her mind, that she realized in disbelief that she had allowed Darryl to pull her body tight against his own and hug her!

And more, that she had hugged him back without feeling at all queasy or endangered by the hard, unrelenting contact with a male body against her own.

 

Chapter 12: Vignettes - Advise and Guidance

Darla was off somewhere with Jane later that day when Audrey went looking for Marie. She found Jane's major doma hard at work in her little sewing room on the third floor of the mansion.

"Ah, Audrey," she said with a smile, "How are you, petite?"

"Fine, Tante Marie," Audrey replied, remembering to use the familial greeting since the two of them were alone. "Just wanted to see how the costume was coming."

"Well!" Marie beamed, "Very well. I am working on a surprise for Darla right now, but I had some very good luck at the fabric store this morning." Marie rose and went over to a small bag and removed a pair of parcels which she set before Audrey. When the girl made no move toward them, Marie nudged them closer. "Open them, silly."

Audrey opened the larger one, first. and found about a two yard long piece of something black and furry. Unable to resist, Audrey stroked her hand through the furry mass and sighed in pleasure. "That's lovely," she breathed appreciatively.

"Yes, and it is not real fur, but very good man-made fake. No lint, no dander, nothing to make the little ones sneeze, eh? Plan on being petted to death, cherie, for they will love doing it to this stuff. And. . . ." Marie took the fur and set it by Audrey's face, draping one of the girl's locks over the fabric. "A fair match for your own fur. Good, that will do!" she finished all the while staring significantly at the other parcel.

Taking the hint that she was to get on with the unwrapping, Audrey happily shredded the other package and found "A pair of ears!" she exclaimed, putting the tiara-like piece to her head and looking for a mirror. Entranced by what she saw, Audrey ran a tentative finger down one of the ears. "They're soft, too!"

"Just so," Marie said with a good deal of satisfaction. "And quite rugged, too, so the little ones will be able to stroke your ears, too, although that might well pull a bit on your hair."

"I don't care!" Audrey exclaimed. "They're wonderful."

Marie returned to her seat and picked up her sewing. "So, why don't you tell me what you really came here to talk about?"

Audrey's mouth dropped open rather nicely, Marie thought, and inwardly grinned at her little deduction. "How did you know?" the girl demanded.

"Perhaps it is the fact that you stood outside my door for two whole minutes before it occurred to you what to say upon entering? Or perhaps it is just that you are not the first young one to come to me with such a look on your face? Now, what is it?"

"It's just that I am confused, Tante Marie."

"Really? I don't see it, petite. You are doing so well in your lessons with Jane now."

"Oh, not with her," Audrey replied. "It is Darryl that has me all mixed up."

"That is not surprising, Audrey. Men and women have been mixing each other up since Le Bon Dieu stole Adam's Rib and made Eve. You are a woman, he is a man. Part of the fun in that is confusing each other."

"But he doesn't react like a real boy!" Audrey burst out.

Shocked, Marie dropped her sewing and stared. Finally she managed, "In what ways?"

Audrey burst out of her seat and began, as best she could in the tiny, cluttered room, to pace. "Just this morning, Tante Marie, I beat him in weightlifting for the first time. It's the only thing I haven't thoroughly trounced him in and yet. . ."

Marie simply watched the agitated girl for several moments before finally giving in to her own rabid curiosity and prompting, "And yet what, dear?"

"He cheered me!" Audrey snapped in indignantly. "He told me what a great athlete I was and how happy he was for me!"

"I see," Marie replied, striving not to laugh, "And what should he have done?"

"Snarled! Yelled. Swore! I don't know," Audrey spun on Marie. "Anything but what he did do. Boys HATE being shown up by girls, particularly in athletics."

"Ah. And you think, perhaps, Darryl's words were not what he really felt? That deep down, he was angry and upset and, how did you put it? Ah, yes, hating it?"

Audrey seemed to deflate at that, and came back to collapse in the chair. "No, that's not what I believe," she said very quietly. "Darryl says only what he means which makes it all the more confusing to me. How can he stand to have a girl be better than him in every athletic area?"

"I have known Darryl for a very long time, my dear. Perhaps it is time you should know this, but Darryl was once one of Jane's students." Audrey's brows went high into her forehead at this and Marie nodded. "Not for very long because he only needed a little help."

"Is THAT the reason he's helping me workout. . ." and then another less pleasant question occurred to the girl and her face went fierce. "Is that the reason he's been playing these boy/girl games with me? Because Ms. Thompson asked him to do them?"

A gentle hand was laid across Audrey's suddenly tense one. "Cherie, if Jane knew the direction Darryl's interests with you have taken, she'd be aghast. Yes, she did ask him to work with you because she knew he was trustworthy and would not. . ." and here Marie paused as if seeking the right words. "do anything to frighten or upset you. Do you understand why, given your history, she had to be absolutely sure of the boy?"

Audrey stared hard at Marie, for seconds stretching into minutes before she finally nodded. "Very good," Marie continued, "but to answer your second question, no, she did not ask him to pay court to you. That will be even more of a surprise to Jane than it was to you."

"But it just isn't natural for a guy not to be upset when a girl is better than he is, Tante Marie."

"And who says you are better than my Monsieur Darryl? You are a better runner, swimmer, whatever than he, but is that all you are? Non, you are much more than just an athlete. So too is it with Darryl. That is why you like him back, eh?"

The knowing look in Marie's dark eyes brought heat to Audrey's cheeks. She thought about prevaricating, but finally sighed. "I have never felt like this before, Tante Marie, and I don't know what to do about it. I feel so. . . off balance."

The older woman gave a short laugh. "Well, my sweet, then perhaps we women should come up with something to tilt the scales back in your direction and put the so-clever and sweet Darryl off-balance."

~--------------~

Art swore as his phone rang. A glance at his bedside clock had him even more unhappy with whoever was responsible for that foul cacophony. "Yes," he growled into the phone. "Who IS this?" he asked in a tone that had shriveled many an undergraduate.

"Dad?" a hesitant tenor voice replied.

"Dar? DarRYL?" Art asked, emphasizing the second syllable.

"Yes, Dad, it's me. Calling from your gym. Can you talk? I really need to talk!"

Art pulled himself up and leaned against the wall at the head of his bed. "Sure, son, what's the problem."

"Audrey!" Was the quick reply. "Dad? I. . I'm pretty sure I am in love with her and I am damned if I know what to do about it."

"It is my experience that there is little one can do about love except decide to enjoy it or suffer with it, my boy, at least when it is real."

"Well I don't WANT to suffer with it, Dad, but I don't know what to do. She's going to be really pissed off when she finds out that I am Darla. And that's bound to happen eventually."

"If you stay with her, either as Darryl or Darla, I suspect that is true. May I ask what crisis resulted in this particular call?"

"She showed up for our run this morning in a new outfit, dad. It was a running suit, made of this gold colored fabric that fit her like a glove." The last was said in a breathy whisper that left no doubt in Art's mind that his son was reliving that particular memory. "All that sleek female, shining in the early morning light and shadow."

"That good, huh?" Art asked with grin.

"Let's just say that a five mile run can be really painful when the cup of your athletic supporter suddenly becomes and stays too damned small!"

Art winced at that particular description before asking. "Are you sure this isn't just a bad case of unrequited lust?"

There was silence on the other side of the line for several minutes with only the occasional sigh to tell Art his son was still connected. "It would be a helluva lot easier if it was, Dad. What am I going to do when she finds out?!?"

*Run like hell, son, except, she's faster than you are, isn't she?* "Son? Perhaps I should speak to your mother. Perhaps it is time for you to leave as Darla."

"I almost wish that I could do that, but she still needs Darla, Dad."

"You're convinced of that?"

"She's opening up to me as Darla now, in ways that she didn't a few weeks ago. Darla is the one who got her together with Marie and the one Audrey asks when there is a female issue she doesn't quite understand."

"Then you have to make a choice, don't you?" Art said, not unkindly.

There was an almost explosive sigh on the other end of the line. "There really isn't a choice, Dad," Darryl finally said. "Is there? Thanks," he said, meaning it. "I have to run. Darla is already late for breakfast."

"Enjoy your dishpan hands, son," Art said teasingly, remembering Jane's favorite 'reminder' to be on time for meals. "And call me whenever you need to talk man-to-man."

"Thanks, Dad." Darryl said, hanging up the phone. Reflexively, he took a quick look in the mirror to check his hair and makeup, and then, with a concerted effort, re-donned the Darla identity and headed down to breakfast.

~--------------~

"He practically tripped over his tongue!" Audrey giggled as she helped Marie with the final breakfast preparations. "The outfit worked perfectly, as did the waterproof mascara you gave me."

"Nothing like a little feminine war paint to get a male's attention. So, give over, girl," Marie chided as she arranged the fruit platter, "What did he do?"

"Well, for one thing, he was practically stuttering," Audrey grinned. "At the end of our workout he was so mixed up he told me to 'hurry up or you'll be late for your run' and that he'd 'see me tomorrow for our next shower'."

"Oh my, you had him coming and going. That's VERY good! I hope you didn't point that little verbal juxtaposition out to him," Marie asked, her eyes twinkling.

"Oh, I thought about it, but decided I'd save it for tomorrow when he'll try to deny he said it. Nope, I just patted his butt and headed for the showers."

"I'd have given ANYTHING to see his face," Marie giggled.

"Me, too," Audrey admitted. "But I figured I'd pressed my advantage far enough for one day."

 

Chapter 13: The Great Cat

"Aunt JANE!?!?" Darla's voice bellowed from the hallway outside Audrey's bedroom. Marie, who was in the process of helping with Audrey's costume shrugged and walked to the bedroom door.

"Quiet, you undignified girl!" she snapped, hiding her secret amusement well. "Why are you screaming like a fishwife?"

"My costume, Tante Marie," Audrey heard Darla complain. "I can't find it."

"Of course you can. I put it on your dress-stand myself while you were washing."

"But that's not. . "

"What it is, child, is what you will wear. Jane's orders!"

"You're sure? Where is Aunt Jane, anyway?"

"Already left to help finish the party preparations. Now scoot and dress yourself, young lady!"

"Yes Ma'am!" and Audrey thought she heard considerable enthusiasm in those words.

"Well, that's that," Marie said, clapping her hands together dramatically. "Now for you, ma petite belle chat."

Audrey looked at herself in the mirror and was still not quite sure she believed what she saw. The costume Marie had given her (and now Audrey understood why Marie had not let her see it beforehand) was nothing like what she had envisioned. She was not some feline equivalent of the San Diego Chicken or the Philly Phanatic. She was in no way, shape or form some walking cartoon character of the type that might be found roaming the grounds of Disney World.

The costume consisted of a solid black unitard that covered the tall girl from wrist to neck to toes to which Marie had stitched the lovely fake fur like some fuzzy speedo swimsuit. A tail of the same furry material, just dragged the floor behind her. Soft shoes and gloves, also black, gave her 'paws and claws'. With her ears on, and silver-shot black leggings she looked like something out of the musical Cats. All that was missing was the "Makeup," Marie said, breaking in on Audrey's thoughts. "Come over here and sit, so I can get done and get my own costume on."

Half in a daze, Audrey did as she was told, and then watched in utter fascination as Marie's skilled hands turned her face into a black mask of pure feline femininity - her eyes impossibly slanted and long, her nose a shiny button standing out from the rest of her face, her lips oddly shaped and . . well, catlike.

The finishing touch was a bit of black sticky-tape that added three dimensional whiskers beneath her nose to match with the ones Marie had drawn onto her cheeks.

Just then the door opened and Darla came into the room. She was dressed in a red riding coat, jodhpurs, knee-high black boots and a ruffled white shirt. She was carrying a silk top hat, white gloves and what looked like a whip in her hands. "Are you sure this is what I am supposed. . ." Audrey knew the precise moment Darla saw her because she stopped dead in her tracks and her "to wear?" came out as a bare whisper.

"Wow," Darla breathed, coming up to help Audrey stand so she could get a good look at the taller girl. "You look GREAT!"

Audrey started to mumble something, but caught herself. She tried and managed a fairly respectable rumbling sound as a purr. "Raoowfff. Thank you. And just because you are dressed like a lion tamer," she said in a low husky voice, "don't get any cute ideas. Black Leopards. . particularly female leopards are a whole lot more. .. roarrrrrr. . .dangerous."

Darla could only swallow because the part of her that was always Darryl was standing up and taking notice. *God, she is so.. . .so sexy!* "Well," she finally managed. "I guess I understand my costume. You know we are expected to do little skits for the children, right?"

Marie decided she'd been ignored long enough. "I have to go change. You two figure out your skit and I will meet you in the foyer in half an hour."

"A skit, eh?" Audrey purred low in her throat. "I have a purrrrfectly marvelous idea."

Darla could only nod.

 

Chapter 14: The Greatest Lollipop Ship-Show on Earth

Audrey and Darla waited - almost patiently - behind the makeshift curtain, for their chance to go on. So far, their costumes, particularly Audrey's, had been a big hit with the little ones. As predicted, they loved petting her, remembering their own cats or dogs that they had not seen since this trip to the hospital had begun. That had been. . . humbling for the inordinately healthy Audrey - and exalting.

The nurse who was acting as Mistress of Ceremonies, was about to go out to announce them when she stopped. Audrey saw a little bald-headed girl in wheelchair slip into the room. Her chair was being pushed by a man who looked old beyond his years. "Oh, thank god," the nurse breathed. "I was hoping he'd get her back down here."

"What is it?" Audrey asked.

"That little girl has leukemia, and she had an episode of nausea just before the last act started. Her Mother's dead and her father isn't a good enough match for a bone marrow transplant donation, so they've been using some experimental but harsh chemo to keep her going until we can find a match. The latest one looked pretty good, and we'll know in a day or so for sure. Lord knows they could use some good news. She hasn't smiled in weeks." The nurse watched as the father maneuvered his daughter into a place where she could see the screen.

"If the match is good, what are her chances?" Audrey couldn't stop herself from asking.

"Better than some in here, not as good as others. I'm just glad she made it back for the rest of the party. Well, are you two circus performers ready?"

At their nod, the nurse slipped out onto the 'stage'. "LADIES AND GENTLEMEN. . .ahem. . and you parents, too. WE ARE PROUD TO PRESENT, LIVE FROM DINGALING BROTHERS CIRCUS, . . the GREAT LION TAMER, DARLA and her fierce BLACK LEOPARD, ROCKY!!!"

Darla took her cue to prance out onto the stage, hamming up a comic-opera strut that was simultaneously stiff and silly. When she reached the center of the equipment that had been set out (a hula hoop, hassock, and stacking chair from the lunchroom) she cracked her whip three or four times - tried four times, got some noise three - and called out to her partner.

"Rocky! Here, girl! Take your place!"

Rocky glided onto the stage in a slow, sensuous slink that had all her muscles rippling fluidly beneath the furry costume. That she was on all fours seemed only natural, as natural as the animal grace that made hurry something inflicted on lesser beings. She strutted, too, but her movements displayed the consummate power of a proud hunting cat, not the pompous rigidity of Darla's lion-tamer self-importance.

The sleek cat gave a disdainful look at her nominal controller and mounted the hassock with regal dignity, recognizing it as the most comfortable place to sit anyway.

"Up, Rocky. Sit up!" Darla commanded, cracking the whip overhead again. Rocky growled, a deep rumble that escalated into a rippling snarl, snatching her paw at the waving whip. Darla picked up the plastic chair and advanced on her recalcitrant charge, demanding again, "UP, Rocky!"

After a pause that was just long enough to show her rapt audience that she was considering taking the whip from her 'tamer' and finding a better use for it, Rocky sniffed and uncoiled from her crouch to rise up on her haunches, still snarling at the approaching Darla. A lightning-quick paw batted at the chair, but at another crack from Darla's whip (spoiled only slightly because it took her two tries to make the sound), Rocky lifted her front paws into an upright pose and roared.

From that point, she was better behaved, flowing from one position to another with a good pace. Darla made her roll over, walk forward and backward, and then remount her hassock-stand.

"Okay, Rocky, now . . . Jump through the hoop!" Darla ordered pompously, holding up the hula hoop in front of Rocky.

The response to Darla's order was another disdainful glance and an almost laughing snarl. Then, with a casual turn away from both Darla and the hula-hoop, Rocky began to mime licking her paw and washing her face.

Disgusted, Lion Tamer Darla started her lead in to the next part of the act. "Now, sometimes, you just can't get these cats to do what you want them to do," Darla told the children as she stood between Audrey and them. "And that's okay, there's always tomorrow. But do you know what you must NEVER, EVER do around a fierce leopard??"

One by one, the kids raised their hands and gave some very imaginative answers. Darla smiled at them and acknowledged each one, but finally said, "Those are all really great answers, kids, but that isn't what I had in mind."

"I know," hissed a fierce voice from behind Darla, just before her top hat and whip were plucked away from her. Darla jumped back to reveal Audrey now wearing the top hat and flicking the whip. "Never, EVER turn your back on a big cat," she purred wickedly. "Particularly not on a smart lady leopard like ME!"

With that, Audrey hopped off the hassock and cracked the whip. She picked up the hoop that Darla had so unsuccessfully tried to get the cat-dressed girl to jump through. "Now, it's YOUR turn, human, to jump through a few hoops!" Rocky purred, snapping the whip in emphasis.

Darla steadfastly refused. "I am a person, not a cat. I don't jump through hoops."

Audrey looked at the kids and gave them a big smile. "Oh, is that so?" she asked. "Well, let me put it this way," she purred. "If you don't jump through this hoop, person? You will be LUNCH!"

Darla gave an exaggerated look of shock at Audrey who simply licked her lips. The children cheered as Darla ran and jumped through the hoop and then kept going as fast as she could, right off the stage, with the sinuous black leopard hot on her heels.

~------------~

In the 'dressing room', a joyous Audrey lassoed Darla with the hula hoop and pulled her friend to her and into a hug. "That was GREAT!" she crowed happily. "Did you see the looks on the faces of those kids? Did you?"

Darla basked in the feeling of Audrey's furry, hard body against her own, just for a second or two, before forcing herself to pull back. Grinning, she nodded. "You were GREAT, Rocky!" she said.

At the sound of that name, Audrey went momentarily still. "You know, I almost missed my cue when that nurse called me 'Rocky'. It has been a long time," she said almost to herself.

"Well, I couldn't very well call a fierce, Darla-eating wild animal, Audrey, could I? I mean, Auuuudrrrey," and here Darla gave an exaggeratedly British intonation, "Hardly sounds fearsome, does it? Why, I think of Audrey Hepburn, myself, in that movie Gigi."

"Gigi?" Audrey replied. "Is that where you came up with the name for me that day with Old Tom?"

Darla swallowed back a bit of anxiety, and finally nodded. "I'd seen the movie recently before you arrived and with your dark, short hair, and huge eyes, well, you reminded me of her."

"And then the nose. . ." Audrey said, this time definitely to herself. "You had the drawing already done." Suddenly piercing eyes pinned Darla. "Will I see myself in this movie, Darla - the self as I am now?"

"Hardly," Darla replied airily, but stepping out of range before adding. "I don't think Audrey Hepburn ever starred in Cats!"

Audrey's eyes went wide and her mouth fell open, but then she started to giggle. "We'll talk about this more later, girl," she growled, trying to sound threatening.

Seeing that the humor had helped the immediate crisis pass, Darla hugged Audrey again. "Well, it's not as if you have much to complain about," she sniffed. "Now, c'mon. Let's go sit with the kids and watch the rest of the show."

"Would you mind if we sat with the little one.. .the one who had to leave and came back just before our act?"

"No problem," Darla replied. "Besides, she looks like she could do with a little cheering up. Let's try this. . . "

~-------------~

The pair slipped back into the makeshift theater and took up positions next to the little girl in the wheelchair, Audrey right next to the girl, and Darla beside Audrey. The current act was a very competent clown whose act included sleight of hand, slapstick and balloon animals for each child. To the amusement of everyone, even Darla received one of the clever balloon creations which the clown told her was "a lion even YOU might be able to tame."

Audrey, still enjoying herself hugely, gave a definitive little 'roar' in agreement and had every child in the room giggling, even the little one they were sitting with.

When the clown went off to play to the other side of the room, Darla caught the little girl's attention and winked at her before taking Audrey's tail and giving it a yank. Audrey jumped and spun, giving the conspicuously innocent-looking lion-tamer a dark glare. Apparently finding nothing, she turned around three times before settling herself back to the floor.

Darla gave the children around her a few moments to figure out what was going on, and then with another wink, pulled Audrey's tail again. Audrey snapped around in a flash, this time going nose to nose with the still innocent-looking Darla, her 'forepaws' resting on the lion tamer's shoulders. "You didn't happen to see this one," she purred at the wide eyed girl, "Pull my tail, did you, kitten?"

A tentative shake of her small head had a very suspicious Audrey slinking back, growling under her breath, to her seat. Darla and the little girl grinned at each other over the furry back. With another wink, Darla reached across and picked up the little hand nearest her and gently pulled it over to stroke Audrey. A loud purr and an arching back greeted this effort and soon had all the nearby children crowding in to help.

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! OUR NEXT ACT! MISS SHIRLEY TEMPLE!"

All sound in the small room ended as the opening chords to "good ship lollipop" began to play from the sound system, whereupon the curtains parted to admit the singing act.

"On the good ship, Lollipop, it's a sweet trip to a candy shop,"

And every eye in the room went huge. This was a very tall Shirley Temple, albeit in the tight golden curls, the frilly blouse and suspendered skirt along with the tasseled knee socks and black patent leather mary-janes on her feet.

"Oh. . .my. . . god!" Darla breathed. "It's Aunt Jane!" as the woman in child's clothing skipped merrily about the stage, getting the children to sing along with her on the chorus.

Suddenly, the little girl next to Audrey burst into tears and hid her face in her father's shoulder. Instantly, Jane was beside the girl. "What's the matter, sweetheart," she asked in a gentle voice Audrey had never heard come from this formidable woman. "Didn't you like my singing?"

Sniffling, the child shook her head. "No, you sing pretty, . . it. . it. . .it's your hair," she managed to get out before another burst of tears had her once again burying her face in her distraught father's coat.

Jane settled on her knees in front of the girl. "My hair?"

Not moving her face, she nodded. "My hair used to look like yours, before it fell out."

"Oh, is that so?" Jane said. "Well, I can certainly fix THAT!" With a sweeping move of her hand, Jane pulled the wig from her head and then settled it upon the bald little head with great care. "Hmmm. . . not bad," she said fussily, her quick fingers here and there, "And what's this?" she exclaimed, pulling something shiny from behind the little girl's ear.

"It's a mirror," another child answered.

"Why, so it is," Jane grinned. "Odd place to keep your hand mirror, dearie," she teased the now-bewigged child. "I keep mine on my bureau. Going to help me sing? Now that you have my hair, that is?"

There was a shy little nod and the beginnings of a smile. "Great!" Jane enthused. "Maestro, my music, if you please!" And soon, everyone in the room was singing about places where bon-bons play on the sunny beach of Peppermint Bay, or having happy landings on a chocolate bar.

After that, the party devolved into the happy chaos of children having fun. Audrey found herself to be quite the attraction, either by children wanting to stroke her and remember a beloved pet, or by the mischievous ones who wanted to play with her tail. Those she gently tustled with, giving them a tickle or two with her whiskers and a gentle hug before letting them go. She even managed to get a giggle out of the one wearing Jane's Shirley Temple wig.

It was, she decided, quite the best holiday she'd ever had.

~------------~

Marie had promised to stay to help clean up so the two girls rode back to Seasons House with Jane. "Going to tell us about the costume change, Mary Poppins," Darla teased after they had ridden for several miles in companionable silence.

"I have to," Jane said with a wicked grin. "Audrey has to tell her Mother all about it."

"I what?" Audrey came up out of a near doze at the sound of her name.

"Your mother bet me I wouldn't put on full Shirley Temple regalia and do the Good Ship Lollipop. She now owes my favorite charity a rather large check. You will tell her, won't you, Audrey?"

"What's in it for me?" Audrey grinned back. "I mean, you didn't wear the whole outfit the entire time, now did she, Darla?"

"Well, now that you mention it. . . " Darla drawled suggestively.

Inwardly pleased with the girl's performance and with her pure-teenager response to Jane's question, the older woman did not give an inch. "Oh, a mere two days in pigtails, pettis and pinafores instead of four. How's that?"

Unrepentant, and recognizing the playful nature of Jane's tones, Audrey retaliated in kind, ably aided and abetted by the laughing Darla. The remainder of the trip filled with a good natured haggling well suited to a Middle Eastern market place.

~-----------~

It was dark when the trio made their way up the walk to the front door of Seasons House. "We shall have to make do with our own cooking, ladies," Jane said, as she slid the key into the deadbolt lock. "And I think that since Audrey and I have so much costume to take off, Darla will be entrusted with the evening meal preparations. What shall it be, Darla? And NO, you may not call out for pizza!" Jane said in stern tones.

"As if I would," Darla sniffed as she followed Jane and Audrey into the foyer. "After all that junk food at the party? I should think a salad, some fresh bread and one of Marie's frozen soups would be all any of us want."

"That sounds lovely," Jane replied, as she saw Audrey beginning to unbutton the furry body suit she'd worn as part of her costume. That seemed like an excellent idea so she doffed her coat and turned to hand it to Darla, and stopped. She'd never seen a look quite like that on the face of her child before. *My goodness, she is actually open-mouthed in amazement,* she realized.

Darla was staring, and Jane turned back to look again at Audrey. She immediately recognized what had so caught Darla's undivided attention. Audrey had shed the soft, fuzzy vest that had mimicked fur on her body and was now dressed only in the unitard, shoes, gloves and her cat ears. While such an outfit would normally be no more alluring than a competition swimming suit or a dancer's costume, Audrey had been perspiring rather heavily beneath her furry over garment. As a result, the body suit clung to her like a shiny second skin, lovingly highlighting every curvy nuance of Audrey's trim yet womanly figure.

The suit was particularly kind to the subtle swell of the young athlete's firm, proud bosom.

The neckline had crept down so that the suit showed more than a hint of lovely cleavage, and if one stared very hard, *Which Darla definitely is,* Jane thought, one might make out . . more feminine detail on those shining breasts. Not only that, but the look of relief on Audrey's face as she set the fur aside was erotically sensual. Almost purring, she stretched her body, arching her back so that every curve was further emphasized and then slowly ran her fingers through her hair, disarraying the midnight mass about her head and face into a wild tangle of ebony highlights.

Jane was sure she heard Darla groan in response, and that set her into action. Quickly, she forcibly shoved her coat into Darla's hands and hissed. "Snap out of it!" She used her coat-hidden hands to give the still-unresponsive Darla a quick, hard shake. Confused eyes gradually came up to meet Jane's own. "Get a hold of yourself," Jane half-growled, half-whispered. "Don't let her see you gawking at her like a testosterone-poisoned male."

It took a few moments for what Jane had said to sink into Darla's consciousness, but once it did, she all but jumped away to try to avoid Audrey seeing her as Jane had just described. "I'll. . . I'll. . just hang up your coats and go fix dinner," she finally managed, and then disappeared into the dining room.

*I'll probably find that coat on the hanger tree in the kitchen,* she mused. "Well, I'm for a shower, I think," she said aloud. "All these layers have become rather sweaty."

Still smiling, Audrey looked over at Jane. "Not 'glowy'? I thought ladies didn't sweat."

"Well, I did today, smarty-britches," Jane retorted. "As did you! I KNOW that I am a lady, and after today, I am willing to grant YOU the benefit of the doubt." Then Jane became serious. "You did well today, Audrey. The kitten costume was inspired. The children so enjoyed having something furry and alive to pet."

"I. . .I enjoyed doing it, Ms. Thompson." She hesitated, and then had to ask. "The little one. . .the one you gave the wig to. . is she. . I mean. . will she. . " Audrey tried, but couldn't get out the words.

Jane did not pretend to misunderstand. "They are hopeful about the latest treatment. The donor match is apparently excellent. The only problem is that she doesn't have much time if this one doesn't work."

Audrey hesitated, her foot on the first step of the stairs, her hand resting on the bannister. "You made her smile. . . with the wig. . .and with your song."

Jane came over and softly stroked the girl's "Hair-Club-for-Girls" coiffure. "And your playfulness made her giggle." Jane reached over and put a motherly kiss on Audrey's cheek. "As I said, you did wonderfully well, today. Now, go get out of that soggy suit, shower and get into something comfortable for dinner. I think we shall be sybaritic and dine en famille on TV trays in the music room."

Audrey stared at Jane for several moments, and only by force of will managed not to raise her hand to the spot Jane had kissed. Then, feeling greatly daring, Audrey bent over and returned the kiss to Jane's cheek, before literally turning tail and running up the stairs.

Jane watched her disappear into her room and grinned. "Well, how about that?" she asked before the other, more difficult question hit her. "And what in heavens name am I going to do about Audrey and Darla. .. Darryl?"

She didn't know. "Lord, but I wish Diana was here." she complained, before ascending the stairs herself, at a much more dignified rate, of course.

 

Chapter 15: Sometimes Love Don't Feel Like It Should

Art set the phone down, and tried to think. Darryl was clearly deeply infatuated with the Rockwell girl, and while he was doing everything he could to control that infatuation, it was still a volatile situation. Something might well blow and what if that happened while Darryl was Darla?

Without seeing things for himself, he really couldn't say if his son's feelings were more than lustful infatuation, but his instincts about Darryl told him that it was more than that - a good deal more, in fact.

Darryl thought he was in love with the girl. Darryl was one of the brightest, clearest-thinking young men Art had ever met. Ergo, logic indicated that Darryl WAS in love with Audrey.

Except, logic and love rarely went well together.

Art's ruminations were interrupted by the shrill call of his phone. He picked it up. "Art?" a husky, alto voice demanded. "Is that you?"

"Hi, Janey," he replied, suppressing a small sigh. "How are you, dear?"

"I'm fine," she said firmly, "but our son is head over heels in love with one of my students, and I don't have the faintest idea what to do about it."

*And you think I do??!?* Art barely managed to avoid saying aloud. *Well, I guess that settles that. Jane's perceptions, about others at least and in particular about anyone she loves, are at least as acute as my own. Now what do we do?* "Well, I knew he was taken with her. . ." he began carefully.

~--------------~

"Two AM," Darryl fumed disgustedly, after having turned over once again to glare at the glowing numerals of his clock. "Lying here awake in the dark is NOT going to help when the time comes to run in the morning. On the other hand, cold showers - two of them - didn't help either."

He had shed Darla's silken panties after the first few minutes in bed. When he had turned out the lights, the darkness had reminded him of the play of midnight glimmers across Audrey's costume - like he was in any danger of forgetting - and that took him perilously close to the edge. Just thinking about the slick smoothness of Darla's clothes was WAY too dangerous for his present condition.

But even the gentle caress of cool sheets had also been too much - despite that second frigid shower. Even reviewing multiplication tables had not distracted him from images that were burning in his mind, and in his blood.

"This is absurd," he decided, heading once more for the bathroom where he collected some hand cream and a handful of bathroom tissues. "I'm not going to let this get to be a habit, but I for sure am going to have to do SOMEthing if I'm going to get any sleep. As sure as the sun will come up in the morning, Audrey is going to be at the stables before that event expecting Darryl to be there, ready to workout."

Sighing, he filled one palm with the cream while he positioned the tissue with the other, and then set to work. A scant few minutes brought the relief his body demanded, and though his mind still refused to let go of the image of Audrey, his thoughts were a little less lustful and a bit more analytically appreciative of her trim form as he snuggled back into the covers. In moments, he was asleep, the smile on his face revealing an impish amusement that was characteristic of both Darryl and Darla, a bridge between the two natures of Aunt Jane's most willing student.

~--------------~

Darryl did not know the person who had greeted him in the small circle of light at the stable entrance and then run WITH him instead of AGAINST him. This tall person LOOKED like Audrey and her voice SOUNDED like Audrey's, but she certainly did not ACT like Audrey.

This tall, female person was . . .well, bubbly . . .and talkative. She had spent the entire five mile run regaling Darryl with her memories of the previous day's party. How much fun she'd had putting on the show and playing with the children. How much she wished she could find someway to make them well again and how funny-warm it had made her feel inside when the littlest one who had been so awfully sick had smiled and even giggled because of something Audrey had done.

Their run had taken longer than usual, an occurrence that Darryl chalked up to Audrey using her air supply for talking more than for running, and they would both be late for breakfast unless they really hurried through their morning rituals. Still, Audrey was hesitant to leave.

"You really loved it there yesterday, didn't you?" Darryl asked.

Somehow, Audrey's face became even brighter, somehow happier. "Oh, Darryl," she breathed. "It was so wonderful."

Just how it happened, Darryl wasn't sure, but the next thing he knew, Audrey had swept him up into her arms and was spinning him about in a tight hug. "The only thing that would have made it better would have been if you'd been there, too."

Her kiss was better aimed this time, if still too short and quick for Darryl to reply in kind, and so he simply stood there watching as she ran up the trail, her ponytail bouncing flirtatiously on her head.

A wave of intense confusion liberally spiced with masculine need swept through Darryl and he groaned. *I am NOT repeating last night's solution again so soon,* his told himself sternly. He took several deep, cleansing breaths of the cool autumn air before setting off for the house at a brisk jog. He was, he decided, very grateful at that moment to whatever genius had invented the jockstrap. All the same, Darla was going to need some stylishly loose-fitting fashions today.

~--------------~

It was nearly 8:20 when Jane slipped from her own rooms and into the upstairs corridor. She needed to catch Darla before the morning meal. She had spent several wakeful hours the previous night, thinking about what had transpired in her foyer after the party, and she was, as was becoming all too common with this particular student, unsure as to what path she should take. After a great deal of thought, Jane knew that her child was at the cusp of this particular problem, and while she could not let that be the only or even the primary consideration, Darryl's needs had to count for something in her decision making process.

She hesitated momentarily at Darla's door, reminding herself she needed to appear to treat her child with the same sort of disregard for privacy that she exhibited with her real students and then opening the door. Jane sailed into the room, her mouth opening to greet the girl inside and then came up short.

Darla was dressed in a perfectly acceptable morning frock and was seated at her vanity, a brush held loosely in one hand. Her eyes had a distant, faraway look as they stared into the silvered depths of the antique mirror, seeing things therein that Jane could only wonder at. Her face was perfectly done up, as Jane would have expected, subtle, yet attractive and appropriate for the time of day.

Jane cleared her voice and Darla jumped in surprise. Then she saw Jane standing in front of the door and smiled. "Hi, Momma Jane. Come to walk me to breakfast?" she asked rising to her feet, her hands extended in greeting.

"Well, I was," Jane replied drily, "but not like that, I think."

"Huh?" Darla said, confused, turning to look at herself in the mirror. "Is something wrong?" she asked, running a hand down her dress and turning about to view her reflection.

"Why nothing at all, dear, except you forgot the wig," Jane said pointedly, "Or are you already having a blonde day?"

Darla's eyes slewed to her vanity is surprise. Darla's brunette locks rested there amid the bottles, tubes and pots, ready to don. "Oh my," she breathed before turning to glare at her adopted mother. "If I had made that blonde joke, you'd have come down on me with high-heeled golf shoes. I can't believe you said that!"

Jane grinned. "I can't believe I said it either. Your father's bad influence, I am afraid. However, I do think we need to talk, dear, now more than ever. This is what I would like you to do."

~--------------~

Jane watched as Audrey nearly skipped into the dining room. She tried to examine the girl critically, but it was difficult. There was a glow about Audrey that, Jane finally decided, made her intensely feminine and very attractive.. *Ah, the wonders of simply being happy and confident for a woman.* "Good morning, Audrey." Jane greeted her student as she took her seat.

Audrey took in the missing place setting as she seated herself. "Good morning, Ms. Thompson. Won't Darla be joining us?"

"No, I am afraid not. She is . . .well. . not feeling well. Evidently she was up most of the night and. . . well, you understand."

For a moment, Audrey was surprised, and then she realized what Jane was not saying, "Oh!"

"Indeed," the older woman replied. "I think we would both be happier to let her sleep off the worst of this bout and be spared her last month's histrionics."

"Yes, Ma'am," her student replied so fervently that Jane was forced to hide a smile behind her hand.

"So, what shall we do with you today, Miss?" Jane asked rhetorically as she began to serve herself from the dishes already on the table.

"We were going to do some jumping practice," Audrey reminded her hopefully.

"Ah, yes, so we were." Jane stopped to consider that for a moment. "I think we shall do that after lunch and after your side-saddle dressage. This morning, I want you to work with Marie for the first hour on basic household management and accounts and then you will prepare luncheon under her supervision." *and that should keep you well occupied,* Jane thought pleased, *while I check on my sick child. . .lovesick, that is.*

~--------------~

With Audrey busy with Marie in the kitchen, Jane was able to knock before entering her daughter's room. She found the girl sitting on the window seat, sipping the remainder of her orange juice as she looked out over the estate.

Jane watched her for several moments until she grew tired of being ignored. *Enough is enough,* she thought darkly and moved over to sit down beside him. "Doing a lot of staring off into space lately, dear?" she asked with only a touch of asperity.

It took a few moments for her question to register. Nodding affirmatively, Darla took another sip of her drink.. Shaking her head, Jane asked, "Is it helping?" The feminine figure before her didn't answer her immediately so she repeated her question - louder, more distinctly and more firmly.

"I don't know," Darla replied with a sigh.

"Do you think you are any closer to finding a way of dealing with the problem of Audrey?"

"Audrey's NOT a problem," Darryl's voice practically shouted. "She's doing just FINE!"

"Let me rephrase my question, then. Has your reflection come up with any means that might help you deal with the problem that Audrey presents to YOU?"

"I said that. . "

Gentle fingers on his lips stopped his denial in mid-sentence. "Dear? Did we not agree, oh, not so many years ago, when I caught you trying to sneak out in the dark of the night in an effort to protect me from your brother, that we would never lie to one another again?"

A mass of emotions ran across the sweaty face before he looked away, momentarily ashamed. Finally, he whispered, "It's not her fault. If there is a problem, it is mine, and I will deal with it."

"You care for her a great deal."

"I love her," was the still quiet response.

"So your father tells me," Jane replied. "That could be. . .difficult. . . . later on. . "

"When she finds out that Darla is Darryl?"

"If she does, yes."

"I know," Darryl said, sitting up and putting down the glass. "But I don't know what to do. Leaving isn't an option because I think she needs Darla right now. God, Mom, that girl has been so terribly lonely. She trusts Darla and therefore, there are things that Darla can do for her that no one else can do. . .at least, not as easily."

"I would say she trusts Darryl, too," Jane said.

"Yes, and that, given what that bitch of a governess put her through, is pretty miraculous. She, ah. . .well, she hugged and kissed me this morning. Hard and on the mouth."

"Well, that is a breakthrough."

"Except for what happens to that trust when she finds out about. . ."

"I think I asked that question earlier, dear. Your father said you've already considered having Darla leave and rejected it - something for which I am profoundly grateful because you are right. Audrey does need Darla, but I think she also needs Darryl."

"You do?" there was wishful hope in her son's eyes that made Jane hurt for him.

Jane looked at her beloved child, deeply afraid that what she had to say would hurt him. The shine in his eyes showed happiness, and a pride that had at one time seemed impossible. And why shouldn't he be proud? It looked like he had gone a long ways toward capturing the heart of a statuesque beauty, a woman of great strength who would make a tremendous companion during their life together.

But, just as Darla appeared so gently feminine despite Darryl's deeper masculinity, was Audrey's acceptance, even sharing, of his affections only ephemeral? Was she infatuated with the first non-threatening boy she had met since she had begun to accept her own beauty? How could Jane even ask, without . . . ?

Never one to hide from an unpleasant truth, Jane sighed and took her child's hand. "Darla, or actually, Darryl, I think we need to think about this very carefully."

"Oh, Mama Jane, I know that. I mean, this whole relationship is based on a lie and if we don't work it out right, it could all collapse. But the way I felt when she kissed me . . . that was real!"

"I'm sure it was. But that's not the issue that is troubling me." She paused for an uncharacteristically long moment, then continued, "You know that I am tremendously proud of you . . . "

"But . . ?" Darla prodded.

"No qualifier about that pride, dear, none at all. But I do have a concern about Audrey's, ah, judgment at this time."

"What do you mean?"

Jane leaned closer to Darla and gave the slender child a hug before sitting up straight with her usual perfect posture. "There is no way to say this gently, so I will be blunt. Though I think you would make a wonderful husband and lover - some day - I am not sure that Audrey is ready for a permanent commitment. Darryl is the first non-threatening boy she has met since, well, since she has begun to recognize she can be feminine without being weak or being victimized. Can you be sure she will not someday wonder if perhaps she should have, ah, sampled a few more men before she settled down to one?"

"Meaning I'm not good enough for her?" Darryl snapped.

"No, dear, not at all. But I have the experience of knowing many men, and so can easily recognize your quality. She, if she has only ever really known you, might wonder."

As much as he wanted to deny it, once again Darryl had to agree with his adoptive mother. "So, what do we do?"

"What do *you* think we should do, dear?"

Darryl, actually with a subtle change of posture and voice now Darla, said, "You're leading me down the path by the hand again, Mama Jane. Why don't you just tell me what you want me to see?"

Jane noticed that change, of course, she noticed everything. But more importantly she recognized the message in that change. It showed a true acceptance of the point she had raised, demonstrating once again the strength of character that she knew her child possessed. It filled her with pride even as it allowed her to address the issue head on. "Very well. We need to set up an opportunity for Audrey to meet some more young men, in an appropriately uncontrolled setting."

Darryl scowled at Jane for several moments. "Mom? What is going on inside the lovely, devious head of yours?" Then, the full import of her words struck him. "You AREN'T thinking of one of Edith White's atrocities, are you?"

"What?" Jane murmured, her mental images abruptly interrupted by Darryl's demanding question. "Oh, nothing of the sort, dear. I cannot control one of Edith's silly little balls that closely. Too many young men who . . " Jane sought the correct words

"Have not learned to fear your power?" Darryl offered grinning.

"Just so," Jane said grinning back. "I think a nice evening on the town would do it. Let me look into the possibilities."

"I take it I won't be her date?" Her son asked, somewhat plaintively.

"No, I think she needs exposure to other young men and when that happens, she might need you as Darla there beside her. At least at first."

"Ken and Mike, perhaps?" Darryl offered. "That last growth spurt of Ken's has given him a rather formidable height."

"I need to discuss this with your father, I think. Now, as to you, scamp. You need to keep to your room today and look gray tomorrow. Darla is having her period again."

"Oh, great," Darryl moaned. "Well, I guess that works as well as anything. When can I sneak downstairs to get my school books, though?"

"I'll call you when Audrey goes to the kitchen to cook."

"Thanks, Mom," Darryl said, standing up to hug his taller parent. "I do love you, ya know."

"I know, dear. Love you, too."

~--------------~

"So, that's what Darryl and I decided, Art, pending your approval. What do you think?" Jane asked as she curled her feet beneath her in the shabby overstuffed easy chair that was her husband's favorite seat. She loved the almost dissident combination of Obsession perfume and Old Spice aftershave that was uniquely her spouse.

"I think it has a good deal of merit, dear. A show perhaps in a very fashionable theater followed by a late dinner at a nice restaurant or nightclub. Dancing?"

"We'll see. I won't press her, although I might hint, rather strongly, that she is a wimp if she refuses. As I said, we will see how it plays out."

"Aren't you afraid she'll turn tail and run?" Art teased. "The minute the music starts and her escort stands to ask?"

"The way I'll have her rigged out? It will be the slowest mad dash in history, darling."

"Be careful with that, dear," Art replied, his voice suddenly very serious. "Remember that we want her to enjoy feeling feminine. The last thing we want is for her to feel cornered, or worse, endangered."

"Oh, I know that. In fact, I am actually going to have her pick out her own outfit. With a little help from her friends, of course."

"So, who are you going to ask to be the escorts?"

"Darla thought of Ken for Audrey and Michael for her. They're both sensitive enough to know when to back off a bit and when to press a bit to help keep her involved in the group." Then, feeling impish, she added. "I thought I would ask Joel to see if he'd be available to escort me. Or maybe even. . ."

The snort that answered her was very satisfying. "Don't even think it, sweet. The only man whose arm you will decorate and the only man you dance with that night will be one Art Philips, Doctor of Psychology. Besides, I think I should be there if you are going to try this little push on the girl. Back you up."

"I know, dear. And thank you."

"You're welcome. Besides, your current biographer is still just a wee bit ticked about our elopement. He was still complaining when I saw him at the faculty club last week when he was here on business. Said Joel wasn't quite ready to forgive and forget, either."

"Still? Lord above, what did they expect? That I would walk down the aisle at the National Cathedral in a floor length white gown and train with numerous attendants? For goodness sakes, Art, I'm in my forties, not my teens or twenties. I'm not some virginal ingenue."

"And I was infinitely more interested in getting that ring on your lewdly naked finger than in pomp, circumstance and ceremony. Anyway, I was simply letting you know, love, so you would think twice about asking either of those two. Now, I have this great idea for the big evening. What do you think of this . . . ?"

 

Chapter 16: Tragedy and Tears

Darryl felt marvelously alive as he paced Audrey in the cool, frost-crisp predawn air. Audrey was again content to run with him instead of racing against him. Actually, she'd been downright insistent about it.

They'd started out on what had become one of their favorite routes, along a roadside path that circled the large Seasons House estate, and as usual, he'd fallen into his usual rear guard position almost immediately. Again, as usual, the lovely view of all that taut, sexy feminine muscle clenching and relaxing beneath the skin-tight running pants had warmed him far quicker than any exercise could have, but then Audrey had called to him, "Oh, Darryl, why don't you just run with me today, instead of trailing behind all the time?"

Remembering the disconcerted look on his face as he'd pulled up beside her, Audrey permitted herself a happy grin as she glanced over at Darryl beneath her lashes. *I wonder why he looked so. . .well, almost embarrassed,* she wondered as she replayed that little scene again in her head.

"Um, sure," he'd agreed, but there had been this note of wistfulness in his voice that stuck in her mind. Again she wondered why, and then her cheeks flushed with a good deal more color than the morning chill would justify.

*Why, the stinker had been counting on watching my fanny again while we ran!* she realized with sudden stark clarity. *Why that. . that. . * her mind groped for both the words and the outrage that she felt SHOULD have been there, but found neither. That got her thinking again. It took several hundred yards to figure out the answer, and it was one with which she wasn't completely sure she was either pleased or comfortable.

She realized that she was flattered - hell, almost smug - that Darryl had been, what? Ogling her? Giving her the eye? Undressing her in his mind? Boys did that, didn't they? Miss Phoebe Elizabeth had always implied they would happily do far worse to a girl if given any encouragement. She should have been angry, but somehow, Audrey just could not find any other reaction than pleasure at the thought of Darryl intentionally running behind her to enjoy watching her. *Well, hadn't you dressed in this second skin of a romper to give him something worth looking at?*

So, Audrey decided that she WAS pleased with Darryl's secret attentions. Despite all the propaganda about how women were supposed to want to be respected for their intellect, not just lusted after for their bodies, she found that she was proud to be good looking - more proud than she could have imagined before she came to Jane Thompson's home. Maybe, just maybe, she'd really give him something to look at next time. *If the weather gets just a little bit warmer, I'll wear my thong leotard and those shiny flesh-colored tights that Marie said make my legs look better than bare. Then I'll see if he can keep up with me on a real run - or even wants to.*

Still, Darryl had moved up beside her, wisps of frosty breath puffing out with easy regularity. The athlete in her felt challenged by that, somehow, so she stepped up her own pace a bit. She could run him into the ground, of course. She was sure of it. Pretty sure, anyway. But that wasn't her goal - not really. It was more an affirmation of mutual respect. He was a worthy adversary, even if not quite in her class.

They couldn't run as fast as they might have liked in any case as a storm had blown up the coast the night before. The mini-nor'easter's heavy winds had denuded the trees of most of their remaining foliage leaving the trails strewn with slick leaves.

As they rounded a particularly wide bend in the trail, Darryl saw a large tree had been blown across the path, blocking their route. He was about to suggest they simply double back to finish their run when a piercing shriek coming from under the tree stopped him.

"What's that?" Audrey asked as Darryl broke into a sprint to the tree.

He pulled out the small flashlight he carried with him and shined its beam near the base of the broken tree. "Oh, god, there is a rabbit caught underneath the tree," he said. "The trunk is on top of his back end."

Audrey watched as her friend scrambled beneath the tree, almost getting splattered as dirt, leaves and heaven only knew what else started spraying from beneath the fallen tree's canopy. That stopped as suddenly as it started followed by Darryl's reemergence. "I can't dig him free," he said quickly. "The path is too hard. We'll have to get the tree off him. Look, you're stronger than I am. Can you try bracing yourself beneath the main trunk and see if you can get it up enough that I can pull him free? If you can't, I will help and see if we can get it off him, but I think we have a better chance the first way. You'd only have to lift it a little bit for a very short time."

"Let me see," Audrey replied, slipping beneath the canopy. She quickly found a main fork in the tree, where the tree started to branch out. She tested it and found she could put her head between the fork so that the large branches rested on her shoulders. "Give me your sweatshirt," she ordered. Without questioning her, Darryl stripped off the heavy grey shirt and handed it to her. She used it to make a pad for her shoulders and then, knees bent and back erect, positioned herself for the lift. "Ready when you are."

Darryl got down on his knees beside the stricken animal and reached out for it. "OUUCH!" he yelped.

"What?" Audrey demanded. "What happened? Are you all right?"

"Just scratched. I forget these fellows have claws a cat would envy and he's scared enough, cornered enough to use them. You ready?" At Audrey's affirmative, he then ordered, "LIFT!"

Audrey braced herself and then drove with all the power of her legs. For a moment, the tree seemed immovable, but she pressed harder, again to no avail. She was about to tell Darryl that they'd need to try another tactic when the tree shifted, and then rose. Unfortunately, before she could get her legs straightened, something hung up and the tree became as rigid as the world on Atlas' shoulders. She had to hold it, legs bent and muscles knotting, while the sound of Darryl's scurrying went on and on. It was probably only seconds, but she was about to add her own shriek to the sounds coming from the rabbit when she heard Darryl's triumphant shout.

"Got him!" Darryl called out and Audrey collapsed.

"How is he?" She asked as she freed herself from the tree.

"Bad shape. Look, you run back to the house. Get Aun. . Ms. Thompson to come with the car. We need to get this fellow to a vet, quickly."

Audrey looked down at the quivering rabbit and saw, for the first time, the deep cuts on both of Darryl's forearms. "What about you?" She asked, worried.

"Just GO!" he shouted. "I don't want to run carrying him. Whatever is wrong inside will just get worse. And if I just leave him, he'll drag himself into the bushes and die. His only chance is the vet, and you can get help a lot faster if you go alone."

"Okay, if. . if you're sure."

"GO!"

Audrey went, at a near sprint. It was, she thought afterwards, likely the fastest two miles she'd ever run. So fast, in fact, that it had taken her several moments to get enough air into her lungs to tell Ms. Thompson what she needed and why.

~--------------~

It felt like an hour, but it was closer to twenty minutes when the estate wagon, Marie at the wheel, drew to a stop on the access road that paralleled the jogging path. Audrey was out the passenger side door immediately at a dead run. "Darryl? Darryl? We're here." she called, only to come to lose her voice at the scene that greeted her.

Darryl was sitting on the damp ground, his back against the tree, his head bowed. The dawn light wasn't much, but it was sufficient for Audrey to see her friend's shoulders shuddering. It was only then that she saw the small, furry bundle laying so very still upon the ground.

"Is he. . .I mean. . .did he . . ." Audrey stumbled over the words, trying to find a way to ask the question to which she already knew the answer.

"He's dead," Darryl got out, swallowing a sob and struggling for control. She saw him take a deep breath and continue. "He was just too badly hurt. Struggling against me only made the end quicker."

Marie caught up and took in the scene, including the state of Darryl's arms. Gently, she knelt down beside her boy and put an arm about his shoulders. "You did your best, dear," she said aloud before whispering into his hair, "But now we need to protect your secret with Audrey."

Darryl's head came up sharply and he saw the sympathy mirrored in Marie's eyes. He gave her a slight nod of understanding.

"Darryl, you need to run home and get those arms looked at by your Mother. Audrey and I will see to the little one there."

"Thanks, Miss Marie," Darryl got out. "He was a pretty one, wasn't he?"

"Run along, boy," Marie ordered firmly, but kindly.

He obeyed, and the two women watched as he broke into a near sprint and disappeared around the nearby bend in the path.

"Well, let's go find a place where we can bury this one," Marie said. "Darryl would expect it and I did promise."

Audrey did not immediately respond. "He was crying." she murmured. "Over a wild rabbit."

"Does that bother you?" Marie asked.

"No. . .I just never thought that a man would. . I mean, well. ."

"Real men care, dear," Marie put in, "and some care enough to cry. I've known that boy, that MAN, for a long time. He's strong enough to know that crying does not diminish him. And if there is a better reason to cry than over the loss of a helpless innocent, I don't know what it would be. Now, go get that sheet I put in the car and let's finish this up."

~--------------~

"Ouuuch, DA.. .doggone it, Mom, that stuff HURTS! Don't you have any of that modern 'ouchless' stuff?" Darryl complained as Jane cleansed his wounds with her favored alcohol and peroxide.

"Sorry, dear. I know that this stuff works - for infection prevention, at least. You're absolutely sure that you weren't bitten? That these are only claw marks?"

"Yes, Mom. I'm sure," her son replied, tears beginning to flow again, more from the memory than from the burning antiseptic.

"Well, at least they aren't deep enough to need stitches. It's just as well that Darla is having her period. You can wear long-sleeve sweaters and look wan without it being too remarkable."

Darryl nodded and then went silent for several moments as Jane efficiently bandaged the scratches. Finally, he sighed. "She saw me crying."

"Who? Audrey?" Jane asked. "Does that bother you for some reason?"

Darryl smiled sadly. "Unlike your other students, you have been careful not to reduce her to tears in this program. This is the first time she's seen someone crying since she arrived here, and instead of it being one of the women in this all-female household, it was the only male she's been in contact with."

Jane considered that. "An interesting point. We will let her think about it for a bit and see if she raises the question herself." Jane then frowned. "Do you think we should have given her cause to cry?"

"As part of your 'let's make Audrey happy to be feminine' campaign? Is this one of those Jane Thompson trick questions?"

"Oh, you," Jane retorted affectionately.

"To answer your question, no, I don't think that is something you should have actively done. She would have seen that as a weak reaction, and if you'd associated it with being feminine, you'd have worked against your own goals because the last thing Audrey would have embraced is anything she perceived as weakness."

Jane thought about that, and shook her head. "Oh, I could have found ways to make her feel bad enough to cry - and made those bad feelings be tied, not to the acceptance of her femininity, but rather to her rejection of it. When she first arrived here, her, ah, 'style' offered many opportunities for, ahem, challenging her. But I didn't think that was necessary. In the end, I may find that not acquainting her with the emotional release offered by tears might have been a mistake because she does need to understand that tears are not a sign of weakness, but thanks to you we now have a way out of that."

"I just hope she won't feel Darryl is not worth her time anymore because of his showing that weakness."

 

 

 

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