Archiving and reposting of this story *unchanged* is permitted provided that no fee be charged, either directly or indirectly (this includes so-called "adult checks") *and* provided that this disclaimer and attribution to the original author are maintained.

Based on the characters and situations presented in "Seasons of Change" by Joel Lawrence, Copyright 1989. This story is archived in its entirety at Fictionmania (go to search by authors and select Joel Lawrence)

Acknowledgments : My sincere thanks to Brandy Dewinter for the gifts of her creativity, her vision, her eye for 'just the right word' (and wrong one of mine) and her, ummm, persistence. Special thanks to the 'Blue Pen of Sonora', Denise Em, for the many hours she put into proofing this. At some point, it becomes impossible for me to read what I wrote, because I 'see' what I thought I wrote. Any remaining errors are mine, probably because I wrongly thought my way was better than Deni's.

 

Tales of the Season - Ken's Barbie

by Tigger
Copyright 2002

 

Introduction:

"Annie?" a harshly whispered voice hissed from the earpiece, "It's me - Adrian."

"Adrian?! What is this? You know you're not supposed to call me."

"Anne, listen, I don't have much time. You gotta get me out of here!"

"I can't do that. We signed that order putting you in that rehabilitative Outward Bound-type boot camp program."

"Outward Bound?! Boot camp?!? Bullshit!! Only boots here have Cuban heels! Dammit, Annie, I'm in some place called Kingston, Rhode Island, and this crazy woman is trying to turn me into a girl!"

"A girl?"

"Yeah. You gotta come get me."

"I don't believe it."

"Look, Anne, I wouldn't lie about this. Right now I'm a freakin' blonde, wearin' a skirt and heels! Did you know I wear a 36A bra? I didn't either. I don't want to know it now. It could have been 36B, because she showed me the silicone boobs in that size, too - and Annie? They had fuckin' nipples! And I wear size 6 panties. Panties, dammit! And a size 8 dress. How the fuck would I know those sizes if I weren't telling the truth?"

"I don't know, but this just doesn't make sense."

"Believe me, Anne! Not only that, I'm calling from this damned beauty shop we go to every Wednesday morning, and this blond bitch of a beautician just said she was going to drag me to New York so I could *entertain* some of her kinky friends down there!. Goddamn it, Barbie, you gotta get me out of here!"

"Don't call me that!"

"Sorry, Anne, really, but . . oh shit, someone's coming - I gotta go. Come get me. Jane Thompson, Seasons House, Kingston, Rhode Island. Hurry!"

~-~

The phone connection clicked off. For a moment, Barbara Anne Braithwaite could only stare blankly at the now-buzzing instrument. Then she pressed the star key code for Caller ID. Since the originating phone had been in a commercial establishment, both it's name and phone number flashed on the small LCD display. Anne wrote both on her desktop blotter and then with a single phone call, turned several people's lives, including her own, upside down.

 

Chapter 1: You Can Go Home Again

Kenneth Roberts spun about in his almost-new office chair with child-like glee. He had made it! Stopping his spin, he looked up at three impressively framed documents that hung from the wall behind his almost-new, not-really-impressive desk. The first, awarded by a major mid-western university, conferred upon Kenneth Allen Roberts the degree of Master of Law in International Business and Trade. The second, awarded by a prestigious institution in the greater Boston area, conferred upon Kenneth Allen Roberts, the degree of Juris Doctor. The third framed document, granted to Kenneth Allen Roberts the privileges and rights of the Bar Association of the State of Rhode Island.

*Not bad for an almost-twenty-four year old,* he thought with pride. Maybe the J.D. had been overkill on his part, but when one had two such forceful, brilliant, determined women as Jane Thompson and Her Honor, Judge Ruth Walinkiewicz vying for the position of Kenneth Robert's 'first mother', one tended to grow up as something of an over-achiever.

And when one considered the self-discipline and control Kenneth had been forced to learn to deal with and counter the sadistic machinations of his birth-mother, it became easier to understand how somebody so young could have already achieved so much in his life.

Today marked his first day on the job as junior associate in the law firm of Ellis, Ellis, and Carter. Life would be challenging for the next couple of years while he made his name in the field and paid his dues. There'd be long nights and a good deal of grunt work on someone else's cases, but he was looking forward to the challenge. *By the time I'm thirty,* he promised himself, *It will be Ellis, Ellis, Carter and Roberts - and WE will be THE agency to retain to close a sticky international business deal.*

"Admiring your new office, such as it is, son,?" Richard Ellis said from the door. He was a fit man of fifty-five or so, with the energy and vigor of a man fifteen years his junior. His silver hair was still thick and he had the easy manner of the old time country lawyer which hid the razor sharp mind and killer instinct of the top corporate tax lawyer in the Northeast. Kenneth liked and respected him. More importantly, Jane Thompson liked and respected him, which said a great deal good about this man and his ethics.

"Just got the sheepskins up," Kenneth grinned as he stood to greet the older man. "I'd offer you a chair, but I don't have one yet."

"Already ordered, but if you need one, borrow one from the conference room. I'll clear it with Mrs. Stone."

Mrs. Stone was Ellis' executive administrator, and it was understood that she ran the office. The partners might be nominally in charge, but even they listened VERY carefully when Mrs. Stone spoke. Kenneth liked her as well, and couldn't wait to introduce her to Momma Jane and Judge Ruth. The thought of those three formidable women in one room was daunting, but some impish streak he normally kept well under wraps could not let go of the idea.

"Thanks, I'll take you up on that, but only if you are there to protect me when I walk past her desk carrying the chair."

"I knew you were smart," Ellis said, grinning. "Anyway, the reason I came looking for you is that I just got off the phone with your Aunt, Jane Thompson. She'd like to speak to you as soon as possible."

Kenneth smiled fondly. "Probably wants to remind me about the wedding, again," he told the older man. "My foster brother is getting married in a couple of weeks. Aunt Jane is hosting the festivities out at Seasons House. I'm to be one of the ushers."

That was true and not true, Kenneth thought. There would indeed be a wedding, joining in holy matrimony his foster brother, Michael Nash, to his beloved Janice Davis. This was going to be a full-up, very formal, society event joining two very prominent families, the Nashes and the Davises. The actual wedding would take place at St. Patrick's Cathedral in New York City with two Archbishops officiating and celebrating the marital Mass. Gossip columnists in the greater New York and Boston areas had been following the wedding preparations for months and invitations were highly prized by the members of the social upper crust.

There would also be another ceremony, celebrated the night before, in Jane's private English Garden. That would be a very private affair, attended only by a very few family members and selected friends. In that ceremony, officiated by Judge Ruth, Michael and Janice would affirm the commitment to one another. Only, it would be Michelle and "Janson" affirming their commitment.

As with most Janice-plans, this one had made a whole lot more sense while Janice was talking (Kenneth thought about selling ice to Eskimos and decided that Janice would consider that too easy) than later when one had time to reflect upon it, but now it was too late. Also, as with most Janice-plans, this one had taken on a life of its own. Michael was fond of pointing out that stopping a Category 5 hurricane was simple, compared to deflecting Janice from her chosen path.

In this case, Janice had decided that she wanted to show her husband that she loved, lusted for and treasured both sides of the complex yin and yang equation that yielded Michael/Michelle Nash. Her solution to this little problem was to hold this second, rather unique wedding ceremony.

In true Seasons House tradition, participating boys would be dressed in girl clothing, while the girls would be dressed in boy clothing - at least for the most part. Michelle had been fitted with her own wedding gown ("I'm not having any possibility of bad luck coming from you seeing MY gown before the wedding, and besides, it would really tick me off if you looked better in it that I do!" Janice had told her mate-to-be.) The brides-maids would be former students of Jane's resuming their old roles - Darla (Darryl) as 'matron of honor' with Beth (David) and Jessica (Jesse) completing the "bride's" party. Diana (Art) would admirably fill the role of "Mother of the Bride" while "Uncle Jack Thompson" and "Father Barton Davis" would jointly give away the "bride".

The 'groom' and her 'grooms-persons' would be wearing very sexily cut feminine tuxedos and would consist of "Audie" (Audrey) Thompson as best 'man' with Carroll (Carolyn) Beale and Sander (Sandra) Madden completing the party.

*Ought to be a hoot,* Kenneth thought with just a trace of sadness. It wasn't often he regretted the growth spurt that had put seven inches and fifty pounds on his tall, lithe frame, but this was one of those times. At six feet three inches tall and 185 lbs, he just couldn't 'do' Kendra very well anymore.

At least, not to HIS expectations in any case.

Actually, only a few years earlier, any such feelings of regret would have surprised the boy he'd been. After he'd gone to live with Judge Ruth following his final showdown with his birth-mother, Kenneth had taken up bodybuilding in a big way. After a while, he'd recognized that to be an over-reaction to what his mother had planned to do to him. It would be hard to feminize Mr. Universe, after all. In the end, he hadn't liked the look, and with the help of a very good personal trainer, had instead opted for his current build - much less bulked up, more fitness-oriented. That regimen, combined with the aforementioned growth spurt, had endowed him with the lean-muscled frame of the endurance swimmer.

Which made the ability to transform himself into the cute, petite Kendra a thing of Kenneth's past.

"No," Ellis said thoughtfully, his words interrupting his young colleague's mental ruminations, "I don't think that was her reason for calling. She asked me if there would be a problem with her hiring your professional services, either from a company policy or from an ethical perspective. I told her no - lawyers do work for their families all the time and having a junior member of the firm representing Jane Thompson in any capacity is a coup to us. That's one hell of a lady."

"She is that. Okay, I'll call her. Thanks, Mr. Ellis."

"I believe that if I've told you oncest, I've told you thrice, that anyone with a Harvard J.D. can call me Richard, son. Try to remember that in the future, if you don't mind. See you later, okay?"

Kenneth waited for Richard to leave before picking up the phone. He dialed a number from memory and settled back down into his almost-new chair. The phone was picked up halfway through the second ring. A familiar voice said, "This is Jane Thompson."

"Hi Momma-Jane," he replied. "This is your son-the-lawyer. What do you need?"

"A great deal, Kenneth. I'm sorry to intrude upon your privacy, but are you free for dinner tonight? Semi-formal, I'm afraid - suit and tie at the least - as I have junior student in residence, but we'll be able to talk after the meal. I need your help."

"Usual time?" he asked, his willingness to serve already clear to them both.

"We'll sit down to table at seven sharp, dear."

"Tell Marie to set an extra plate and put another cup of water in her spaghetti sauce. I'm on my way."

"Thank you, dear."

 

Chapter 2: The Other Side of the Table

Kenneth had never been a participant in a student's rehabilitation at Seasons House in either the junior or senior sister role. He did not count the few hellish days he spent under Jane's program, when his birth-mother had forged court sentencing papers in an attempt to trick Jane into feminizing her son. Fortunately for Kenneth, it had only taken Jane about two days to figure out that something about this unusually controlled and composed young man was not consistent with the barely civilized animal described in the records provided by the "court". Two days later, Kenneth had been out of skirts and restored to his masculine state while a furious Jane Thompson and Judge Ruth had plotted the downfall of Sheila Roberts.

So he had never been at table when Jane was working on another student's manners and deportment. It was an uncomfortable experience, as it brought back memories of the meals he'd eaten and later thrown up during his own blessedly-short time in the Seasons House hot seat.

He'd expected to be asked to play the 'flirting male who's not in on the gag' role during the meal, much as Michael and Darryl had described others doing. Jane had quickly disabused him of that notion immediately upon his arrival at Seasons House. Basically, she had wanted him to act like a casual business acquaintance of hers, and to interact only very formally with either of the young people. At first, he'd been a little disappointed, having spent the better part of the afternoon after his phone-call with Jane thinking about what he'd do and say with the junior boy-girl student. Halfway through the fish course, however, any residual disappointment had long-since evaporated to be replaced by a growing sense of relief.

He'd met the senior student/big sister before and liked her immediately. Jessica (Jesse) was now Jane's foster child, an orphan who was now as much Jane Thompson's son as Kenneth, Darryl or Michael. *She sure is cute,* Kenneth thought as he considered the petite brunette in the robin's egg blue and cream dress. *Hard to believe that Kendra was ever in her class, the pictures in Aunt Jane's Rogues Gallery to the contrary.*

The junior student, however, was an unknown quantity to the young attorney. Adrienne, formerly Adrian, Braithwaite was seated directly opposite Jane so that she could watch every move and correct every small error in manners or deportment. Unfortunately, this student didn't bother to make small errors - she seemed to delight in making colossal ones.

*In fact,* Kenneth mused as he savored Marie's marvelous maple-glazed baked ham, *It's as if she is doing her level best to infuriate Jane. That's the third time she's been corrected for the same screw-up. How many times do you have to be told to how to use a napkin properly? How long has this kid been here? Long enough to look pretty good as a girl . . . so why hasn't she picked up on how to get through a meal without this kind of heartburn. Is Jane being particularly demanding? I don't think so. What the hell is going on here?*

As the meal progressed, tension around the table increased with each passing dish until, just before the dessert course, Jane set down her napkin with very great care and glared at her junior student. "Adrienne, if you cannot dine in a civilized manner, then you will not dine at all. In case it has escaped your notice, we have a guest tonight and your boorish behavior is beyond anything I can accept." Jane pressed a small button beneath the table, summoning Marie.

"Yes, Ms. Thompson?" Marie said as she entered the dining room.

"Please serve Mr. Roberts and Jessica their dessert. Adrienne and I will retire to her room, as we have some pressing issues to discuss. Please have coffee served in my apartment in half an hour. Mr. Roberts, I would be gratified if you would join me for coffee, assuming you are not so offended by this one's behavior that you wish to call off our business together."

"I would be honored to take coffee with you, Ms. Thompson," Kenneth replied, keeping to the role Jane had assigned him in this little drama. "I will await your pleasure."

Jane gave him a regal nod of her head and then rose from her chair. "Come with me, Miss," she ordered her wayward pupil sternly, "NOW!"

Kenneth was shocked when, making no effort to disguise her distaste for the order or the woman giving it, Adrienne actually seemed to consider whether she was going to obey. Finally, she shrugged and rose gracelessly from her chair. "After you, Mizz Thompson, Ma'am," she said in a voice that in no way sounded feminine - not in tone, not in pitch and certainly not in inflection.

Stunned by Adrienne's utter disinterest in protecting her identity, Kenneth could only stare as Jane took the erring student by her elbow and actually frog-walked her out of the room. For several moments, he struggled to make sense of what he had just seen. Then he looked over to where Marie stood behind Jessica. "What the HELL was that all about?"

"If we knew that for certain, cher-Kenneth," Marie sighed, "We might be able to fix it."

"Adrienne's been here for almost two months, Mr. Roberts," Jessica said softly. "She was doing very well - Jane was starting to think about fishing around for a new little sister and I was getting ready to move in with Michael and Janice so that Adrienne could become the big sister. Then, all of a sudden, instant throw-back."

"Throw-back?" Marie snorted. "That child was never THAT bad here before, petite," she said before turning back to Kenneth, "One morning, barely a week ago, she comes down to breakfast, all sweetness and light - a lovely young person. I quite liked her," she added, and Kenneth could see how that upset the softhearted little Frenchwoman. "Jane took her to the Chalet for her weekly hair coloring, set and make up lessons - everything seemed fine there, from what we can gather."

"Jane was afraid Sandy had stepped over the line again, and that might have been the cause of her turnaround," Jessica put in, "But Caro was the one who worked her that day - almost exclusively, in fact, since Sandy was indisposed and, ah, a little nauseous," she added, blushing just a little.

"Oui," Marie continued. "Anyway, the girl came home acting the little bitch, eh? And she has gotten worse every day since."

"No idea why? None at all?" Kenneth was surprised.

"I did not say that," Marie said emphatically. "We have no proof, but we think Adrienne's guardian may be part of the problem. She has begun pestering Jane in the past few days. Demanding progress reports, calling at odd hours, insisting that she be allowed to speak with her brother."

"Brother?"

"Adrienne is an orphan, like me," Jessica put in softly. "Unlike me, she had an adult sister who took her in. Unfortunately, sister has to work to support them both and she was too lenient with her brother; couldn't supervise him closely enough. He got in with a bad crowd and got into trouble with the law. Selling pot, running numbers, shoplifting."

"I see," Kenneth replied.

"Getting him out of that permissive, unsupervised environment seemed to help a great deal," Marie said, "as did the forced petticoating. Jane is not lenient, nor is Adrienne unsupervised any longer."

"No kidding," Kenneth smiled. "Any idea why I'm here?"

Marie shrugged. "Ideas, yes. Knowledge? No. I will let Jane tell you what she wants you to know."

"All right, Tante Marie. One last question?"

"Oui, cheri?"

Kenneth tried his best to look pitiful. "Didn't Momma-Jane say *I* could have dessert?"

"Oh, you," Marie said with smiling, maternal exasperation. "Be right out with it. I made your favorite."

"Strawberry Pie with homemade vanilla ice cream?!?"

"Of course. What else would I make when one of my boys comes home to visit?"

"Could we have it in the kitchen? Like old times? This place is just a little, well, daunting - especially after what we just went through."

"But of course, cheri. Join us, Jessica?"

~---------~

Forty-five minutes later, Jane walked into to her private parlor to find Kenneth waiting for her in the semi-darkened room. She flicked on the rest of the lights and headed over to a hidden panel above the hearth. A few quick, deft manipulations had the panel sliding away to reveal a large, closed circuit television monitor. Jane turned it on and the scene of a bedroom, an obviously nude young person, laying atop a very frilly bed.

"Letting the boys sleep in the buff these days because of the heat, Momma-Jane?" Kenneth asked as he handed her a cup of the strong black coffee she preferred to the tea she drank as part of her role.

"Of course not," Jane said with trenchant disgust. "It's just another way the child is defying me. You can see she's tossed her lingerie and the nightgown on the floor in a heap."

"What's going on? I spoke with Marie and Jessica, so I know the kid has had a major turn for the worse recently. What, if anything, can I do to help?"

"I need you to put the fear of God into his sister," Jane said intensely.

"The boy's guardian?"

"By court edict, *I* am that child's legal guardian until such time as I deem him rehabilitated, or until the court or I determine him to be incorrigible. His sister signed the court order temporarily relinquishing guardianship to me. If she rescinds that agreement, he goes to juvenile detention until he turns eighteen."

"So he's a court-appointed case. I thought that gave you a good deal more control and latitude than with a contract agreement between just you and the student's parents?"

"And so it normally does. However, this one's sister has somehow reached the conclusion that I am engaging in child abuse and has begun systematically harassing me - by phone, by letter, even confronting me in town the other day."

"Wow. What is she saying? What does she have to back up that contention?"

"A fairly accurate, if skewed description of what I do here in my program, and a couple of photographs taken from a distance using a powerful zoom lens." Jane handed him a large manilla envelope. "Look at that," she ordered quietly.

Inside the envelope were the two aforementioned black and white photographs and a typed letter. The first of the two pictures showed a full-face closeup of young teenaged girl with very curly hair, huge eyes and a rather heavily made-up face. *Must have been taken right after Caro and Sandy got done with her,* Kenneth thought as he flipped to the second picture. This one showed a full-length shot of the same girl, garbed in a skirt, blouse, and fairly tall heels, looking up with what might be taken for a fearful expression at a very stern-looking Jane Thompson. "These do not show you to advantage, Momma-Jane."

"I know. She looks terrified, doesn't she? While I seem to be the wicked witch of the east, west, north AND south."

"You can be rather formidable, you know. Is she uncertain of her ability to carry off the masquerade? Is that why she has become, well, difficult to deal with?"

"Nothing of the kind. In fact, she is good at it. She's more agile in heels than Jessica. What she has been doing of late, is to be very careful to ensure that she does nothing to break her own masquerade publicly. However, once we are alone together, or if there is a single visitor? Kenneth, the girl positively BAITS me. It's as if she is trying to make me lose my temper with her. It is all so, well, the only term I can come up with is premeditated."

"So you think she wants you to step over the line in some manner she can use in a court case?"

"At least threaten me with that. My best guess, based on how careful she's been to protect her own identity in very public situations, is that she is hoping either to blackmail me or settle out of court with sealed records."

"That sounds. . . well, Machiavellian, Mom."

"Nothing else fits the fact, Kenneth. Read the letter."

Ms. Thompson

It has come to my attention just what your program entails, and I am not just appalled, I am infuriated. That my brother is, at the behest of the court, undergoing such a humiliating, dehumanizing and emasculating experience at your hands is beyond anything.

My attorneys are at this very moment reviewing the court order with the intent of appealing it and overturning it. I have been given to understand that there is reason to hope that they will be able to do so.

However, should that prove to be a false hope, I will find a way to stop you, even if it is too late for my brother. Clearly you and that Judge are together in this, so that means you may be able to perpetrate this crime against other boys who are sent to you for help.

HELP? HAH! What utter garbage.

So, I want you to understand this, you perverse bitch. You had better PRAY that my lawyers can overturn this travesty of justice, otherwise I will be forced to take other, more drastic action to stop you! If the legally constituted courts cannot be relied upon to protect children from animals like you, then the court of public opinion will bring you down. Don't think my brother's 'reputation' will protect you as I don't believe he will have one in any case when you are through with him. If he must suffer, I want it to be for a good cause and stopping you will surely be the best such cause.

Oh, and if you think to avoid this by declaring my brother 'incorrigible' and packing him off to reform school, I will STILL destroy you and your nasty little 'school'. As you can see from the sample enclosed, I am developing the evidence I need.

B. A. Braithwaite

"Strong words," Kenneth said after finishing the letter, "And these are just damning enough to support her case in the absence of other evidence to the contrary. Didn't she know what you do here?"

Jane sat down on the plushly cushioned Victorian 'Fainting Couch', kicked off her heels and laid back against the rich velvet upholstery. "Ruth handles that end of the arrangements when it is a court settlement. Normally, she is very up-front about what the parents can expect, especially after that one mother took to showing up on my doorstep unannounced two or three times a month," Jane said as she began to massage her temples with the knuckles of her index fingers. "However, in this case, she decided to deviate from that policy."

"Oh? And why did she do that? Aunt Ruth rarely flies in the face of a working precedent."

"From what I gathered, Miss Braithwaite is very young - barely twenty-two. She had only just come of age when her parents died and she took responsibility for his upbringing. Ruth felt she might not go along with the deal if she had the full disclosure and made the decision to withhold a good deal of detail."

"Define a good deal of detail, please," Lawyer Roberts ordered quietly.

"Don't badger the witness, dear," Jane admonished with a tired smile. "Miss Braithwaite, after discussions with your Aunt-the-Judge, concluded that my program was one of those "Spirit Quest" things, a sort of Boys Town where young men in trouble are sent to discover themselves and the true Dao to peace and enlightenment. Ruth did not attempt to correct that impression."

"You've got to be kidding me. Ruth Walinkiewicz KNOWS better than to pull something like that."

"You can talk to her yourself, but that's precisely what she did do. As I said, Ruth felt that the sister would not have signed the plea bargain is she fully understood what I was doing, and the last thing she wanted to do was send him to a juvenile detention facility. Besides, she had decided that the boy was going to be relatively easy anyway. All he really needed was some shock therapy to get his attention, some structure and discipline in his life, and time to reflect on what he'd been doing to himself and his sister."

"Except she was wrong about the kid."

Jane sighed. "Hindsight is 20/20, Kenneth. However, up until a week ago, Ruth's assessment of Adrienne was right on the mark. Then, bang. Since the moment we left the beauty salon, I don't think I have ever had a less responsive student in all my time here at Seasons House."

"Okay, you said you wanted my help. Put the fear of God in her, I think you said. How do I do that? And to what end?"

"Go to her. Use your lawyerly skills to intimidate her. Convince her that public exposure is not a good idea for her or her brother. I don't know, threaten to countersue."

"Why even bother with that, Mom? Ruth has the full power of her office behind that order. Why not just go after her that way? Ruth can threaten to vacate the suspension if she doesn't go away."

"Two reasons," Jane said. "First, taking that course of action could well mean the boy ends up out of my hands and in the juvenile justice detention system, and I'm not ready to give up on him!" Kenneth smiled, knowing full well that 'give up' were only two words stuck together for Jane Thompson and not a concept she either embraced or really understood.

"You said there were two reasons," Kenneth prompted the quietly fuming woman.

"The sister, Barbara, signed the court order. There is a gag order associated with any referrals to my program. If she does what she threatens, she is in contempt and will join her brother behind bars. Unfortunately, Ruth leaving her in ignorance about what she signed really muddies that issue. Still, the possibility of her facing jail time does not please me anymore than sending that boy to juvie for the next four years of his life pleases me."

"Mr. Ellis is a lot better lawyer than I am, Momma Jane, with a lot more experience. I think he'd be better at this than I would be."

"Richard is a delightful man, and as you say, one of the finest lawyers in the country, but he's not the right man for this task. After all, he is not among the 'in the know' about my activities here at Seasons House. You are and you fully understand the need to protect the rest of my boys."

"What does Art think? By the way, where is Art? I thought he was coming back for the wedding?"

"He got in last night from Bosnia. Poor dear hasn't come out of the bedroom except to use the bathroom and eat for almost twenty-four hours. What he saw there . . .isn't pleasant."

"So you and Diana will be at the weddings?"

"Diana will be," Jane said quietly. "Right now, I don't think I will be able to trust Adrienne sufficiently to allow her to attend which means someone will have to watch her. I'm the School Mistress here. That makes it my responsibility."

"But Michelle is counting on you," Kenneth blurted and instantly regretted it when he saw the sheen of tears glitter in Jane Thompson's tired eyes.

"I made a commitment," she said very softly. "Michelle. . . Michael will simply have to understand. If you cannot get Barbara Braithwaite to back off so that I can turn her brother around, I simply won't be able to attend either ceremony."

"DAMN!"

"I quite agree."

 

Chapter 3: Calling in the Sisters. . . Brothers

Kenneth sat staring at the telephone, willing it to ring. He'd spent the hour it had taken him to reach his apartment in Warwick from Seasons House to conclude that he might need reinforcements available when he went to face Ms. Barbara A. Braithwaite.

When it came to covering a fellow's back, no one did it quite as well as family.

The phone rang, and Kenneth had the receiver off the cradle before the first echo ended. "Roberts, here," he said.

"Hey, bro'," a familiar voice answered him. "I've got D' here on the extension. What's up?"

"Trouble, brothers, big trouble," Kenneth said by way of reply. "Momma-Jane has a problem, and she needs us to help solve it."

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

"Lord, Ken," Darryl said after listening quietly, "I have more experience with Jane's students than anyone except Jane, and I've never seen anyone act like. . . like. . "

"Like they were trying to force her to be abusive," Michael finished, anger rippling in his tones. "As if she would!"

"One thing I've learned about the legal system, Mike?" Kenneth put in, "Is that it isn't always the fact or the intent, but the appearances that matter, and how those appearances are presented to the judge and the jury."

"That's a pretty cynical viewpoint for a newly ordained lawyer-man, Ken," Michael noted.

"I know, Mike, but look, they don't have to win to hurt Mom, okay? We've always known that she is out there on the windy corner with this program. If the gossip-sheets get wind of this, the program dies. Not only that, but Mom will be hounded for the rest of her life."

"Point taken," Darryl said. "So, what do we do?"

"First things first, I think," Kenneth said. "I need a reading on the sister, and the only way to get that is to meet with her."

"You could always ask Aunt Ruth," Darryl argued. "I mean, she must have thought well of the woman to recommend Momma-Jane to her."

"Aunt Ruth is a court-judge. If I ask her, she will ask me why. as an attorney, I can't lie to her. Once she knows, she'll be in the position of having to decide whether or not to vacate the suspension and whether to hold the sister in contempt. Neither of those will do Mom or her program a lick of good."

"What do you hope to accomplish?"

"Figure out where she's coming from. Find a way to convince her that her little brother just might be manipulating her a bit. And, most importantly, that what Jane Thompson does is a GOOD thing."

"You know, Ken, when I . . ., well, when I went off the deep end, one of the things that really caught my attention? Was when Eric showed up in my suicide-proofed room as Erica. Then he transformed into Eric before my eyes. First male I'd ever seen in Seasons House, you know? I was more inclined to listen to him because, well, because he obviously knew what I was going through. He had the t-shirt - or is it the teddy? - to prove he'd been there, too."

"It's not like I can show up on her doorstep as Kendra, Mike. I don't fit in those clothes anymore," Ken said disgustedly, "But that was one reason I called you two. Presenting Darla and Michelle to her, along with your exemplary bone fides, might be a useful tactic, depending on how the initial interview goes."

"Might work," Darryl said. "Wish we had something to hold over her head like we did with Steve's father, though."

"The file on her Jane showed me is squeaky clean, Bro'. By all accounts, she's just a nice girl who loves her brother, works too hard, and doesn't have the experience to deal with a boy going through what her brother got caught in."

"Well, you know we'll do whatever we can, Ken," Mike put in. "I will be on her doorstep in petti's and pinafores, with my sheepskins in hand if that's what it takes."

"And I'll be with him, big brother, and I figure I can get another dozen at least without even trying hard."

"If we need more than you two, I don't think a dozen will be better."

"When do you go see her?"

"Tomorrow. Unofficially, at first. I don't want to announce my presence as Jane's representative until I know what's going on in her head."

"Be careful with those secret agendas, Kenneth," Darryl told him. "I nearly lost Audrey that way."

"I'm going to negotiate with her, Darryl, not marry her!"

"All the same, nice girls don't like feeling that they've been duped. Lawyers, in my experience, sometimes forget such social niceties."

"Not lawyers trained by Aunt Ruth and Momma-Jane. We're gentlemen - or else. See you later, guys."

 

 

 

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