Tales of the Season - Ken's Barbie

by Tigger
Copyright 2002

 

Chapter 4: Ms. B. Anne Braithwaite

The small conference and meeting room he'd reserved at the Marriott hotel was both simple and luxurious. *Nothing but the best when you represent Jane Thompson,* he told himself with a grin. *Besides, I am going to need all the ammunition I can get. A little conspicuous display of Momma-Jane's considerable wealth and power might help these negotiations in the long run.*

Kenneth set his attache case down behind the large desk. He opened the case, removed his briefs and set them out where he could get at them easily. He was as ready as he was going to be for this encounter. There were several ways this could go down, and most of them were not good in some manner. *Just keep thinking those positive thoughts, Kenneth, my boy.*

He took off his suit coat and did some stretching exercises. He felt stiff and tired, for he hadn't slept well the night before. Part of that was stress, but another, equally significant aspect of his restlessness had been guilt. He'd spent the previous night with his 'other' foster mother, Judge Ruth, but had not told her the nature of his business in her fine city. Kenneth had never before hidden anything from either of the two women who had saved him from Sheila, but telling Ruth would put her in the position of having to ignore what was a violation of the court agreement or putting the boy juvie while bringing his sister up on charges. *You are caught,* he thought ruefully, *Between Jane's program and Ruth's career. Talk about ye olde Rock and ye olde hard place. They don't get any more comfortable with time.*

The phone on the desk rang and he answered it. It was the concierge. "Yes, this is Mr. Roberts. Oh, she is? Please ask one of the bellmen to escort her up to the conference room. Yes, thank you."

Kenneth set the phone down and reached for his suit coat.

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

He answered the door on the first knock and was brought up short by his first look at Ms. Barbara Anne Braithwaite. *Adrienne's prettier,* was Kenneth's first reaction on meeting Jane's adversary, and then his 'Marie-trained eye' caused him to reconsider that statement. *She's not trying to be attractive. Intentionally? Is she coming here garbed for combat and doesn't want me to get any ideas?*

B. Anne Braithwaite - for that was the way she had signed her letter - wore minimal makeup, just a bit of pale lipstick and mascara as though she wanted to avoid the statement absolutely no cosmetics would make without making an actual statement of her own. The grey suit she wore in no way showed her figure to any advantage - which should not have been too difficult, Kenneth realized, for the woman was slender and elegantly tall. She was easily taller than her brother, in fact - perhaps five feet ten or eleven inches in the unflattering flat-heeled loafers she wore. Her dark blonde hair was pulled back in the kind of unattractive, ruthless chignon that would look the same if her hair were shoulder length or bun-length.

And yet, there was something about her that appealed, nonetheless. Her intelligently-alert brown eyes were her best feature - large and filled with mysterious depths. Morever, she had a mouth, Kenneth thought, that was meant to smile.

Only it wasn't smiling now. Kenneth forced himself to concentrate on the task at hand. *No wondering what Marie could do with those eyes, Roberts, at least not until the business is taken care of. Something tells me dealing with this one will take every ounce of smarts you've got.*

"Ms. Braithwaite," he said quickly, "Won't you come in and sit down, please."

Wordlessly, she strode into the room and sat down in the chair he'd indicated.

Kenneth moved to his own seat and tried to look 'lawyerly'. "Thank you for coming to see me, Ms. Braithwaite."

She gave an unladylike snort. "As if I had a choice. The wording in that summons your messenger brought to my apartment was rather blunt. 'Show up or face charges' sums it up quite accurately."

"I apologize for that," he said, "It isn't my intent to threaten you, only to impress upon you the gravity of our mutual situation and the need for you to participate in the solution."

"Oh, I don't feel threatened, Mister, I feel pissed! And the only one who is facing anything grave is that woman you claim to represent!"

"I see. Just so that we both understand where we stand in this situation, you did sign the court order remanding your brother to Ms. Jane Thompson for rehabilitative training in exchange for the judge agreeing to suspend his sentence to juvenile detention?" Those incredible brown eyes narrowed momentarily, and then she nodded once sharply. "And would this document be a signed copy of that court order? I know it has the seal of the state court on it, but I would like to confirm that this is the form and that is, in fact, your signature."

She glanced at the proffered form for only a moment before locking eyes with Kenneth again. "It's the form and that is my signature."

"Thank you. Ms. Braithwaite. Now, you understand that by communicating with Ms. Thompson as you did, by interposing yourself into her program for your brother as you have, you stand in violation, perhaps even in criminal violation of your agreement with the court as described in that document?"

Raw fury flashed in the woman's eyes, making them almost black. "And what she's doing to my brother is not a violation?!?" she demanded in a low, husky voice that seemed to vibrate the very air.

"No, it is not."

"THAT'S what's CRIMINAL, Mr. Roberts! My brother is clearly being abused, and whether that has the blessing of that woman's COURT or NOT is absolutely beside the point. My brother was threatened with unspeakable acts by the women at that chalet-place and he's being forced to act like a female and wear women's clothes in PUBLIC! And you say that *I* am criminal? I think you need to review your textbooks on child abuse law, Mr. Roberts!"

*Sandy and her stupid threats,* Kenneth thought. "Ms. Braithwaite, the real problem here, as I understand it, is that you were not fully apprized of Ms. Thompson's method when you signed that agreement . ."

"Fully apprized? Fully apPRIZED? Mister, that woman LIED to me! I was told that my brother would be out of the city - in the country and fresh air - eating fresh food, learning new skills, developing problem-solving skills. That is NOT what he's doing."

*Actually, that's precisely what he is doing,* Kenneth thought as he recalled some of Jane's more challenging lessons, *but you are no mood to hear that. Besides, simply saying that to you would end up leading to just one more evasion because I'm not going to tell you the specifics - yet.*

"I see. Did the Judge tell you this was an Outward-Bound type experience?"

"She didn't correct me when I asked her if that is what this was all about! She deceived me!"

*Ruth, whether you intended to be vague but truthful or not, you screwed this up, big time. And the only way any of us are coming out this cleanly is to put the whole mess on the table. God, I wish I had more experience at this!*

"I'm sure that it was not Judge Walinkiewicz's intent to deceive or mislead you," *Like hell it wasn't!* "but all the same, the explanations were obviously not well done. Look, Ms. Braithwaite, I am going to level with you and explain Ms. Thompson's program to you in detail. Perhaps if you better understand what she is really doing you can better see what she is trying to accomplish with your brother."

"And why should I believe you anymore than I believed that Judge Ruth Whatevertheheckhernamewas? YOU represent the woman who is really doing the abuse."

"Because, after I have finished briefing you on Ms. Thompson's program and its history, you will have all the ammunition you need to hurt her badly, and at the same time, the nearly one hundred young men who have completed her program and who have gone on to live productive, happy lives."

"As what? Women?"

Kenneth allowed that question to hang in the air between them for several tense moments, his own dark eyes never leaving hers. When he spoke, the quiet intensity of his voice surprised even him. "Do I look like a woman to you, Ms. Braithwaite?"

"YOU?!?"

"My name was Kendra when I was a student at Jane Thompson's school," Kenneth told her with quiet dignity.

"I don't believe you. Why would you admit something like that to me? A stranger? What man would EVER admit something like that?"

"It's the truth, and as to why I would admit it to you? I was hoping my revelation might help establish my credentials, if you will. I know from first hand experience what Jane Thompson and her program are really all about. What I went through with her did not hurt me in any way, and in the long run, did me a great deal of good, as it has all her boys. My experiences there were tough and at times unpleasant, but sometimes love has to be tougher than the problems you are trying to solve."

"What possible good could come of forcing such a thing on a young man? What POSSIBLE justification could there be?"

"Success is one justification," Kenneth said soberly. "As to the good? Let me explain what Jane does and why she does it. Then perhaps you'll understand better what is really happening to your brother."

 

Chapter 5: Point-Counterpoint/Offer-Counter Offer

"So, the basic goal of all this is to put the boys in highly stressful situations, situations where they would previously resort to whatever inappropriate behaviors got them sent to Jane in the first place, while dressed as girls. However, the very fact that they ARE dressed as girls forces them to stop and think before react inappropriately. At the same time, the concentration on manners and deportment help socialize the student."

"It sounds like hogwash, Mr. Roberts. Your Ms. Thompson is abusing my brother, and I will see her and you in court!"

"You're going to lose, Ms Braithwaite," Kenneth said quietly, "Or at best, win a Pyrrhic victory."

"Oh, you really think so? This isn't San Francisco, Mr. Roberts, nor is it Boston or New York. This is MidWestern America, and here, folks think that making boys into girls against their will is a sin and a crime. I can guarantee that any jury in this part of the country will convict her."

"Perhaps, but in a criminal case, I'll easily win on appeal, if it goes that far. I think it far more likely, however, that I will be able to get the case thrown out before it even gets that far. Look, Ms. Braithwaite, the fact is that what Ms. Thompson does has been highly successful. I can call social workers, judges, parents of her students, law enforcement officers - all of whom have direct knowledge of what she does and how she goes about it, and everyone of them will support her claim that she is in no way abusive. And that is before I bring in the students themselves to testify on her behalf."

"You simply can NOT believe any of that," the woman said, her eyes wide with incredulity.

"Oh, but I do believe ALL of that. Ms. Braithwaite, suppose your brother, instead of having been sent to Ms. Thompson, had been sent to one of those boot-camp-styled youth rehabilitation programs. At the boot camp, he'd have been immersed in the type of macho oriented, group situation he's already shown he cannot handle. In my view, all one of the bootcamps entails is a gang-like mindset and dynamic, but with better leadership.

On the other hand, Ms. Thompson isolates him from that type of situation while forcing him to reexamine the unfortunate social choices that have led him to this point. The rest, in other words, the externals, are merely tools to effect that reexamination. What's the real difference between curls, skirts and heels, compared to skinheads, fatigues and army boondockers? Both are artificial; both have a point. The real question we need to address here should be - Which situation presents the solution most likely to solve the problem that got Adrian sent to Jane in the first place?"

"And you said that all with a straight face," Anne Braithwaite said wonderingly. "No one in THIS part of the country is going to believe that putting a boy in skirts is more likely to make a man of him than going to bootcamp."

"As I said, Ms. Braithwaite, I have an overwhelming preponderance of historical evidence and testimony to the contrary."

"All right, so you might win a criminal case. As O.J. Simpson has discovered, that is not the only path to justice in this country."

"You're referring to a civil lawsuit? Claiming what? Infringement of Constitutional rights? Something along those lines?" When the woman did not say anything, Kenneth nodded. "I'd say your chances of winning any significant settlement there are, at best, 50/50. Some of the people who are willing to act as testimonials to Ms. Thompson's methods are rather important men and I believe that their statements would carry great weight, even with the most hidebound of juries. And then, there'd be appeals. I think it is safe to say, Ms. Braithwaite, that when whatever lawyer has offered to represent you pending the award sees my case, you might find he wants to be paid up front with no guarantees."

"My brother will still be free of her."

"Your brother will still be in jail, Ms. Braithwaite. And without a criminal case against my client, you will likely be facing contempt of court charges yourself."

"So, why don't you just bring me up on those charges? The letter I sent to that woman is all the proof you need!"

"Three reasons. First, my client doesn't want to hurt your brother. She feels, quite strongly, that sending him to juvie for the next four years might well do irreparable harm to him. Second, she doesn't want to hurt you."

"I find that very difficult to believe," she interrupted snappishly.

Kenneth shrugged. "As you will. And yet, your brother has not been physically abused or disciplined in any way. He's been well fed and his physical needs seen to at all times, and he's been challenged physically, emotionally and mentally in ways that force him to learn things about himself he'd never otherwise."

"Everything's wonderful except he's being turned into a girl!"

"He's being made to act like a girl. In three months to a year, he'd be back in trousers, living as masculine an existance as I am - except that he'll be doing it as a much nicer male to be around."

"So YOU say. You'll forgive me if I feel you have failed to prove your case to MY satisfaction. And what was the third reason, Mr. Roberts? For this Thompson woman to want to keep this out of court?"

"Although her students are more than willing to come forward for her, to testify publicly in her behalf about their experiences in her keeping, she does not want them to do so. As you have indirectly pointed out, there are prejudices in this country that affect how others perceive people. She'd rather that . . . appearances in open court by her former students not be necessary."

"So, what's the alternative, Mr. Roberts. Are you going to offer me a deal? Some type of settlement?"

"Ms. Thompson regrets that you were not fully apprized of, and in agreement with her proposed program for Adrian when you signed the commitment papers. Therefore, provided that you meet certain specific conditions, she is willing to release your brother to your recognizance."

"Without the vacation of the suspended sentence?"

"If you agree to her conditions, and then, if you meet her conditions, she will sign his release papers and return full guardianship to you as if your brother had successfully completed her program of studies."

"Sounds too good to be true."

"I don't believe you will think so. First, you and your brother must sign legally binding non-disclosure agreements promising not to reveal any part of Ms. Thompson's program until after her death. As guardian, you will, of course, be responsible for your brother's compliance with those agreements until such time as he reaches his majority. Failure on either of your parts to comply with those agreements not only opens you to legal action, but voids the second, financial portion of the settlement."

"Financial? I don't understand. All I want is to get my brother out of that hellhole!"

"As you will, but you should hear me out nonetheless, Ms. Braithwaite. My client, Ms. Thompson, feels that you were overwhelmed by your responsibilities as care-giver and provider. You will agree to become an 'at-home' mother to Adrian so that he will be adequately supervised until such time as he reaches his eighteenth birthday."

"That's ridiculous! I need to work so that I can pay bills, buy clothing . . food. . "

"That is the financial aspect we were just discussing. So long as both you and your brother comply with the provisions of the non-disclosure agreements, and you are an 'at-home' guardian, Ms. Thompson agrees to underwrite your full living expenses, up to and including five years of university for Adrian, which should see him through an undergraduate degree. At that time, she will entertain providing funds for graduate work, should his grades and commitment warrant her continued support. Additionally, should you wish to attend graduate school while you hold guardianship, my client will also agree to pay those associated costs so long as it does not distract from your supervision of your brother."

"You have got to be kidding. That would be a great deal of money - almost forty thousand dollars a year."

"That's probably a low number, given the cost of college these days. However, Ms. Thompson has already established and fully capitalized the necessary trust fund in your and your brother's names, Ms. Braithwaite," Kenneth said, handing her a document. "The final condition is the one you may find disagreeable, but it is one about which Ms. Thompson is most emphatic."

"Oh?"

"Yes. You will agree to come to Kingston for a period of three weeks and observe, covertly, your brother's training at Seasons House. If, at the end of that period, you still feel that she is abusing him, she will release him immediately to your care and the other conditions of the agreement will take effect. If you decide to allow her to continue the program, then she will still turn the proceeds of the trust fund over to you. Either way, you and your brother will have no financial worries for at least the next seven years. This settlement contract," Kenneth passed a thick document over to the stunned young woman, "details in legalese what I just told you in plain language. You might wish to have your own lawyer review it before you consider signing it."

Anne Braithwaite could only stare at the stack of paper now in front of her. She had never expected anything like this settlement proposal to come of this meeting. *Now what do I do?*

She looked at the calm young attorney who was watching her with strangely gentle eyes and then back down at the settlement agreement. A question occurred to her. "Why?"

"Why is she making this offer? I already told you - because she doesn't want anyone to be hurt by this."

"No, why are you doing this? You're defending her and it's more than just your profession involved. Is it because you were her student? Because you don't want it known that you were like my brother and put into girls' clothing?"

"I am defending her because I believe in her and in what she does for her boys," Kenneth said softly. "because I KNOW she helps them."

Anne considered that as she scanned the document. "Your office? It's in Providence?" Kenneth nodded, his eyes suddenly wary. "And you say that you believe in her methods? That there is no particular harm in a man or boy going out in public dressed as a woman?" Again, Kenneth nodded.

"All right. Then prove it. Meet me in Providence in three days, publicly dressed as a woman. Put your reputation where your mouth is."

"Wha. a. . at?!?" Kenneth stuttered.

A wickedly self-satisfied smile curled Anne Braithwaite's mouth. "I'll agree to your settlement, Mr. Lawyer-man, but, " she said standing up and stuffing papers into her own briefcase. "You will meet me at my hotel, in your feminine persona, and escort me to your Ms. Thompson's house for my three week observation period."

"But, Ms. Braithwaite, I've. . . grown. . .I mean, I'm not . ."

"That's my deal, Mr. Roberts!" she cut him off. "You will meet me and escort me in your feminine role. Fail in that, sir, and we will meet again. In court. Good day, Mr. Roberts, or perhaps, I should say, Good day, Miss Roberts."

The door closed behind her well before Kenneth could manage to close the mouth that had gaped in shock.

 

Chapter 6 - Family Conference

He needed nearly half the trip to the airport just to get his emotions under control. She wanted him to show up at her hotel, en femme? As Kendra? *But I haven't been able to be Kendra since I hit that growth spurt,* his mind railed. *Cripes, I'm six feet three inches tall - even without heels I will stand out like a sore thumb! And I don't want to look like a freak - don't want Kendra to look like a freak - that's why I wouldn't agree to be a 'male-of-honor' at Janice's little reversed wedding ceremony.*

*But Momma-Jane's program, and more importantly, her entire lifestyle might be at stake in all this,* he reminded himself sternly.

It was just too much. "DAMN!" he exploded.

"Yo, somethin' wrong, Mister?" the cabbie asked, looking into his rearview mirror and nearly rear-ending the Postal Service truck he'd been tailgating.

Kenneth realized that he'd spoken aloud and grinned sheepishly. "Sorry - bad meetings. Still a bit. . . annoyed."

"No prob, Mac. We'll be at the airport in a few minutes. You want me to go to departures?"

"No, I'm on a charter flight." Kenneth gave him the name and location of the private operator's facility and then pulled out his satellite cell-phone. He punched the speed dial and listened as the connection was made.

"Nash, here."

"Mike? Ken. Look, I'm on my way to the airport for the flight back to Providence. I need to meet with you, Darryl, Jane, Marie and Art as soon as I get back. Can you call around and set that up?"

"No problem. When will you be back?"

"A few hours - no later than supper time."

"Okay. How do we get the word to you?"

"I'll call Momma Jane as soon as I'm on the ground in Providence."

"Good enough. Anything else?"

"Yeah, I learned something that might be important, but I need to check it out. Do you have the number for the Chalet handy?"

"Somewhere. . . " Michael's voice trailed away and Kenneth could hear the sounds of papers rustling and drawers opening and closing. "Here it is. Ready to copy?"

Kenneth entered the number into his digital pocket organizer, thanked his 'Thompson-brother' and then broke the connection. With practiced ease, he programmed the phone number of the Marisa Chalet into his cell-phone's speed dial memory and then made the call.

"Marisha Chalet, this is Caro."

"Carolyn, Hi! It's Kenneth. I need you to check something for me and pass what you find to Jane, okay? And then I need to talk to Sandy. Great. Here's what I need you to do. . ."

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

They met in the old groom's apartment over the stables - the one that Jane had converted into a combination exercise room for Art/Diana and as a "home away from Seasons House" for members of her family when a junior student's presence precluded them being accommodated at the manor house. Jessica was at the house watching over Adrienne's walking excursion with Mr. Webster.

"So, she's agreed to the visit?" Jane asked, after Kenneth had given his slightly edited report. "She'll be here?"

"In three days, or so she tells me. She's still not convinced, Jane," he warned her. "We're not out of the woods yet, and I think we are, at best, 50/50 for staying out of court with this. She strikes me as the 'do the right thing because it is the right thing to do' type."

"Oh, god, not another idealist," Diana groaned, turning to stare at her wife with comical disgust.

"Just like Momma-Jane, Daddy-Di," Kenneth assured her. "Two peas out of the same pod."

"If we could PLEASE get back to the issue at hand," Jane said sternly, and then watched as Darryl, Kenneth, Michael and Marie dissolved into giggles. "Well, I'm glad that still works with the new ones, anyway."

"I'm sorry, Mom," Kenneth replied, just a bit sheepishly. "Look, I think she's smart enough and open enough that she'll see what you do and come to appreciate the value in that. However, she loves her brother and there seems to be some guilt there that she couldn't keep him out of trouble, so she's inclined to come charging to his rescue."

"What you are saying, son," Diana said in Art's voice, "Is that if she doesn't see the good in what Jane does, she won't take the rest of the deal?"

"I don't think so, Dad. If she thinks we're in the wrong here, my guess is she will not accept the settlement and go to court. Not to take us for more money, but to stop Momma Jane, once and for all."

The room became very quiet, only to be broken by Darryl's soft, "Damn!"

"Just so," Jane said with a sigh. She stood up and walked over to the room's large picture window and looked at the late-evening shadowed silhouette of Seasons House. "It is just possible that is the correct solution, you know. Maybe it is time I retired as the School Mistress of Seasons House. Lord knows that I have so much else I could be doing with my time these days. I have a husband now, children who are my own in everything except genetically which hardly counts. It might be nice to pack up and head off with Art and Marie the next time he's sent off to someplace like Bosnia."

"Over my dead and bleeding body," Art snapped.

"Then don't go yourself, husband," Jane said steadily, still staring out into the twilight-softened landscape. "Whither thou goest, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera."

Michael stood up and came over to Jane. "Mom? If you really want to retire, then that's what we want for you. If you're doing it before you are ready, and if you think you've failed because there are still kids you should be helping, then screw that noise!"

"Michael!" Jane sputtered.

"Like you've never heard words like that?" Darryl replied. "I agree with Mike. You really want to retire, great. Better than great, in fact."

"Oh?" The famous "Thompson-brow" cocked up at her grinning, adopted son. "And just WHY, pray-tell, would that be 'better than great'?"

"Because Audrey could use some Motherly support and help just now." Darryl paused to make sure he had everyone's full attention. "We're expecting."

"Expecting what?" Kenneth asked without thinking and then gaped at his brother. "As in. . ex-PECTING? Like in, BABIES?"

"Well, we hope it's just one right now, but yeah, that's what I mean. So what do you think, Mom? Ready to be the prettiest, doting-est, spoiling-est grandmother in Rhode Island?" Darryl asked, grinning up at his Mother mischievously.

His answer was swirl of silk, a waft of Obsession, and a fiercely loving hug that bid fair to rob him of his breath.

"I guess that's a yes?" Darryl squeaked.

There were joyful tears in Jane's eyes when she finally let go. "Oh, god, yes, that's a yes! When?"

Darryl blushed. "Oh, about 6 and a half months from now. We started trying on our first anniversary. Guess we needed the practice."

The next several minutes were spent in the happy chatter of a loving family discussing the impending birth of first of a new generation, until Jane, being Jane, pulled herself back to the issue that had brought them together. "So, you think she may still go to court. What does that mean?"

"I think that any criminal case she tries can't win. Your supporters are too well placed and if necessary, I will subpoena them to prove our case. The civil case is chancier, but even there, I think it's a given that we'd win on appeal. However, your school would be dead - the media and the scandal sheets would bury it."

"I've always known that was a possibility."

"I think," Kenneth went on, "That the real threat is to Judge Ruth. Impeachment is done by politicians, and the trial subsequent to a bill of impeachment is also done by politicians. I don't know, but my guess is that the legislature is likely to impeach and convict, regardless of the legal validity of our arguments. It would become a media circus and there is no way she could come out of it with anything like justice."

"You believe she'd be the real loser in all this?"

"Her, Adrienne and of course, the boys you won't be able to help in the future."

"Hey, bro," Darryl put in, "Don't forget others like Gigi."

"There will never be another Audrey, dear," Jane said smiling, "but I take your point. I suppose I should warn Ruth?"

Kenneth looked uncomfortable. "That may be a lose-lose idea, Mom. If you did that, she might decide she had to vacate Adrienne's suspended sentence. If that happens, I guarantee that Ms. Braithwaite will take us to court."

Jane nodded. "I understand. I will talk to Ruth. If she decides to press the issue, I will threaten to release him outright, as is my right under the court order."

"How will that help, Mom?" Darryl asked. "I thought the whole point was to get this woman to sign the non-disclosure agreements and then watch you in action. If you release him, how does that happen?"

"I don't tell him he's released, of course, nor will I tell Ms. Braithwaite."

"That might make this a criminal case, Mom," Kenneth warned her. "Without that court order, your authority to hold him against is sister's will, and your guardianship of him both go away."

"Then I will simply have to bluff Ruth into thinking I will do it, won't I?" Jane looked at her watch and frowned. "I really should be getting back to the house, dear. Is there anything more?"

"Yes. Where will she stay?"

"Here," Jane replied. "Since Jessica is living with me on and off, I have had this apartment wired to receive the CCTV, much as my own rooms are. That way, Jessica is able to help with the observations while living here when she is not officially in residence at Seasons House as big sister. I can also give her an electronic 'all clear' signal when she wants to come 'visit'."

"Okay. Did Caro or Sandy call you? I asked them to check on something for me."

"Oh, that's right. Yes, Caro did call. It is just as you thought. Someone at the salon made a call to one of the numbers you gave Caro. The week before our young miss started acting out and before I started receiving letters from Ms. Braithwaite. Evidently, Adrienne managed to sneak into the office and make the call. How did you know?"

"A guess. The sister paraphrased some of their conversation, and mentioned the Chalet specifically. Evidently Adrienne was getting a highlight job and was very unhappy about it. That made the Chalet a good possibility for how they made subsequent contact, especially since you keep to a fairly regular salon schedule with the boys early in their time with you."

"You think he saw her in the vicinity the following week?"

"And started acting up? Yes. That's my best guess. It also explains the photos she sent you. She had to have some idea where you would be, with Adrienne, and when the two of you would be there. The most predictable thing you do, Mom, is go to the beauty parlor."

"I see," Jane murmured. "Well, please excuse me, but I have to get back to the house and check on Adrienne and Jessica. Then, I will call Ruth."

"I'll go with you, dear," Diana said rising to her feet and following her wife who was hurrying out the door.

"Tante Marie?" Kenneth put in. "Could I talk to you for a minute before you go? Please?"

"Mais oui, mon petit brave," Marie replied, her eyes twinkling as they always did when she used her pet name for her 'little boy' who was no longer quite so 'petit'.

"I need some help from you on a . . .little project."

 

Chapter 7: Interludes - Jane and Diana

A furious "Would you PLEASE ACT YOUR AGE!?!?" greeted Jane and Diana as they reentered Seasons House.

"Jessica?" Diana asked. Jane nodded, even as she sped toward the front parlor.

The tableau that greeted Jane would have been comical except for the seriousness of her mission. Jessica, barely five feet six in her three inch heels was standing bare centimeters away from the taller Adrienne, her fists on her slim hips and her eyes blazing. "You aren't even trying!" the smaller girl accused furiously.

"What is going on here?" Jane demanded from the doorway.

"SHE THREATENED TO STRIKE ME!!" Adrienne shouted.

For the barest of moments, Jane felt a chill run down her spine as she recalled the reason her foster child had come to Seasons House. He tended to react violently to provocation - real or imagined. *However, he never threatened,* she reminded herself, *he simply struck without warning.*

"Did she indeed?" Jane asked, her tone indicating her disbelief.

Total disgust showed on Jessica's lovely face. "I told her that if she was going to keep whining, I wished I could give her something whine about. I never raised a hand in her direction."

"SHE MADE FISTS!" Adrienne screeched piteously.

"And you have four inches and some twenty five pounds on her, and we both know that you're a boy. I am sure you would be gravely threatened by my niece's physical prowess," Jane replied, sarcasm dripping from each syllable. "Go to your room, Adrienne. If this is how you keep your word of honor, then I must conclude that you either do not understand the meaning of the word, or that you have no personal honor. I will deal with you no more this night. Jessica? Go the kitchen and prepare a pot of tea, please. I need a cup. Bring it to my office." Jane then returned her stern stare to the gaping Adrienne. "I told YOU to go to your room! I meant NOW, not LATER!"

Jane felt a guilty flutter of satisfaction at seeing her student scurry from the room. Unfortunately, that satisfaction only lasted until she remembered the phone call she had to place.

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

"Damn, Jane, I am sorry about this mess. I should not have kept the girl in the dark and I knew it even when I was doing it," Ruth Walinkiewicz said after Jane had given her all the particulars. As Kenneth had predicted, her first inclination had been to send the boy off to the juvenile authorities, and it had taken all of Jane's considerable persuasive skills to convince her otherwise.

"May I know why you didn't tell her? I thought that Diana, or rather Art, had convinced you as he did me that full disclosure is the safest way to go, even with court-referred cases."

"I suppose it doesn't matter now, but to tell you the truth, I wasn't going to refer this one to you. I had planned one of those 'scared-straight' weeks in a jail-situation, with the threat of one of those boot camps if he didn't square away after that."

"What changed your mind?"

"An Amicus Curia brief - you know, a 'Friend of the Court' briefing, from someone who knew the family, but wished to remain anonymous. It strongly recommended that the boy be referred to your program."

"To MY program? Someone anonymous knows about MY program? Oh my God, Ruth, this just gets worse and worse!"

"Easy, Jane. The reason this person knows about you is because he was one of your students. He wanted to be anonymous because he didn't want to influence the girl or you, and because, well," Ruth's voice drifted off.

"He didn't want to admit to his own participation in my program?" Jane finished sweetly. "Who was it, Ruth?"

"Pretty much, Jane," Ruth sighed. "As to who it was? Jane, it was Donald Madden."

"Donald? DON-ald? How? WHY? I mean, heavens, Ruth, he was a failure here. I mean, he was here a year or so ago, when Carl was my student, but I haven't heard from him since. Why ever would he recommend a student to my program?"

"He's the girl's employer, Jane. She's an assistant accounts manager at his offices here in town - pretty good at it, too, according to Donald - and he wanted her to have every chance to get ahead. Which meant, in Donald's mind, taking care of the distractions her brother was causing with is bad acting. He had his lawyer file the Amicus Curia and then met with me privately. I have to tell you, Jane, that having one of the ones that got away come back and recommend the program, admitting that he was in the wrong, went a long way towards convincing me to send Adrian to you. The only glitch was that, in the interests of protecting Donald, I didn't fully disclose the program to the sister."

"Well, in the clarity of hindsight, I wish you had, but I can understand your motives. Look, Ruth, I need to speak with Donald. Do you have his phone number?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I do. Let me see. . . ah, here it is!"

Jane copied the number down and then signed off. For a long time, she stared at the phone, wondering. Then, she picked up the phone, and began to dial.

"Madden residence," a voice answered on the first ring.

"This is Jane Thompson of Kingston, Rhode Island. I'd like to speak with Mr. Madden.

"Is he expecting your call?"

"No, but this is urgent. Please inform him of my call."

"Wait, please."

Jane listened to the thankfully muzak-less line and tried to organize her thoughts more cogently.

"Madden here. Is that you, Ms. Jane?"

"Donna," Jane said and then caught herself, "I mean, Donald. I need to speak with you about. . about a student you may have been involved in referring to me."

"Oh, I see. Anne Braithwaite's brother?"

"Yes."

"All right. What can I do? What's the problem?"

"I need some information, Donald. There are some things I desperately need to understand."

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

Kenneth slid into his office chair, leaned back and closed his eyes. Ellis had been damned understanding - more than he'd had any right to expect or even hope for. "Whatever Jane Thompson wants and needs, she gets from this partnership, Kenneth. If that's your undivided attention for three weeks, than that's what she gets. I've been after a piece of her business for years, but she's always been very careful not to mix business and friendship. Guess she's not so hesitant to mix business and family."

"It's a . . . unique situation, Mr. Ellis," Kenneth had told the senior partner, "And one she feels, rightly or wrongly, that I am uniquely qualified to handle for her." *and she doesn't even know the half of it,* he thought. *I just hope I am up to the challenge.*

"Well," Ellis had said, "See that you are, and if there is anything that the rest of the firm can do to assist you in this - anything from research to filing a brief - you call me directly. Like I said, I want Jane's name on a retainer contract."

Kenneth spun in his seat as he remembered. It probably wouldn't be all that difficult. Jane would see that he was well taken care of in her own way, and if that meant funneling her international business deals through Kenneth to get him in good iwth the partners, Jane Thompson would do just that. *All the while expecting me to be letter perfect at all times. After all, I am one of HER boys.*

He hoped he was ready for tonight. Marie had called the night before to tell him she was finished with her part, and Sandy had called him this morning to confirm she'd be there tonight. Lord, but he was nervous about this - hadn't been able to eat in two days.

His intercom buzzed and Kenneth picked up the handset. "Mr. Roberts?" the receptionist asked. "You have a visitor. A Ms. Braithwaite. She's on her way up to your office. " Then the woman's voice became very low. "She seems, well, rather upset - almost angry about something."

"Thanks, Becky," he replied before replacing the handset.

He had just gotten up to go greet her when his door slammed open to admit an obviously furious B. Anne Braithwaite followed by a shocked secretary. "You BASTARD!" she snarled.

"Mr. Roberts," the secretary quavered.

"It's all right, Mrs. McCarthy. I'll help Ms. Braithwaite," Kenneth said easing the door shut.

"Help me? HELP me? By threatening my JOB? You call that HELP?!?"

*My god, she's crying!* he realized. *She's not just angry.*

"Your job, Ms. Braithwaite? I'm sorry, but I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, you don't, do you? Well, your client called my boss, and he called ME. It seems that he questions whether someone who doesn't understand when their well off is suitable for his organization."

"Look, Ms. Braithwaite, please sit down. I don't know what you are talking about, but I assure you, I had nothing to do with going to your boss. Let me make a quick call and then see what I can do to straighten this out."

"Right," she said sarcastically. Ken offered her his handkerchief and she accepted it after examining it closely.

He punched the speed dial on his cell-phone, waited and then spoke. "Jane? Kenneth. Did you call Ms. Braithwaite's boss? You did? For god's sake why? Oh. He's one of the two, eh? I see. Well, I've got a real problem here and I need to speak with him. Yeah, as your attorney, I *really* need to speak with him. You have a number? Okay, give it to me."

Kenneth broke the connection and immediately dialed the new number. "This is Kenneth Roberts of the Providence, Rhode Island law firm of Ellis, Ellis and Carter. I am representing Ms. Jane Thompson and I need to speak with Mr. Madden immediately please. Yes, it is that urgent. Thank you." Kenneth looked over at the woman and found her regarding him intently. The tears had stopped flowing, but her makeup was a mess. *Wonder if I should offer to help her fix that?* he thought just as a gruff voice came on the line. "Mr. Madden? Kenneth Roberts here, representing Jane Thompson. Thank you for taking my call. Look, I have a situation here. No, not about the boy, it's about the sister. She thinks you intend to terminate her if she proceeds with her action against Jane. No, sir, that is NOT what Jane wants. Ms. Braithwaite is innocent in this. What I want you to do, sir, is tell her that won't happen, and I want you to make her believe it. All right, just a moment."

Kenneth proffered the phone to the woman in his office and watched as she put the phone to her ear. "This is Anne Braithwaite. Yes, sir. I see. That's very good of you, Mr. Madden. Thank you. No, I'll tell him. Thank you for clarifying that. Good bye, sir."

With slow, deliberate movements, B. Anne Braithwaite broke the connection and folded the phone before handing it back to Kenneth. "Well," she said quietly. "That was a surprise."

"He is no longer threatening you with termination?"

"He claims I misunderstood him, and assures me that it was not his intention to ever fire me."

"Do you believe him?"

"I believed I was going to be fired, Mr. Roberts, or I wouldn't have come here as I did. Why did he back off?"

"It's entirely possible he never did mean to fire you. Men like him tend to be, well, forceful in their language and sometimes forget how others interpret that. In any event, I think we can go on the assumption that your job is safe now."

"I. . I don't know what to say."

"How about some lunch? I'm suddenly very hungry and you look like you could do with a bite yourself, or perhaps at least a cup of hot tea."

"That would be very nice, Mr. Roberts."

"Um, since I'm going to be escorting you to Jane's tomorrow, could we lose the 'Mr.'? It's going to be hard enough to pull this off without you slipping up and letting the world know I'm a Mister, when I show up to pick you up."

"You really are going to do that?" she sounded incredulous.

"As I said, Ms. Braithwaite, I believe in Jane Thompson and what she does. If becoming a six-foot three inch incarnation of Kendra is what it takes to get you to at least listen, then that's what I'm going to do."

"I see. So, what should I call you? Kendra?" she asked with just a hint of a smile.

"I think Ken will do for now, and I'll trust you to recall the 'dra' tomorrow. May I call you, what is your name? The settlement says 'Barbara' but Madden called you 'Anne'."

"I prefer Anne and refuse to answer to Barbara or any derivative of that name."

"Okay, Anne. How about lunch?"

"All right, Ken. I would enjoy something light."

 

Chapter 8: Interludes - Kenneth and Barbara

"So Mr. Madden is why that judge sent Adrian to this Thompson woman? And he was one of her. . . her. . "

"Students?" Kenneth finished for Anne Braithwaite as they walked though Roger Williams Park on the way to her hotel.

"I guess. It's just so hard to imagine Donald Madden. . .well, in a dress. He's rather forceful, you know."

"So's Jane," Kenneth replied. "Anyway, Madden is one of the two who did not graduate from Jane's program. One got sent back to jail - really was incorrigible - and later died trying to evade capture by the police. Madden didn't get to Jane soon enough. He reached his eighteenth birthday, and unfortunately, came into an inheritance, before Jane could reach him. She always mentions him when someone tries to compliment her on her program."

"Well, he certainly speaks highly of her now. I felt like I had to choose between my brother and my job, and without my job, I won't be able to support him or pay for the lawsuit."

"Well, that's fixed now. Jane wouldn't have tolerated that anyway."

"Why? It would have solved her problem. Surely any law firm I could have afforded or that would have taken the case wouldn't have been up to the task. Not against someone like your Ms. Thompson, or like your firm. I don't know much about the law, but from what I have learned, Ellis, Ellis and Carter are very good at what they do."

"Why? Because Jane has never abused anyone. In the end, you won't win even the civil suit because we can prove that."

"You really believe that, don't you?" Anne asked softly.

"I might lose to a jury, depending on how it's constituted, but I really do believe that, on appeal, you will lose. Your evidence is not substantiated by the history Jane's built with her program. Unfortunately, Jane will lose, too. Not in the real courts, but in the kangaroo court of the media. Once the case goes public, she'll be out of business, and worse, she'll be harassed the rest of her life, but she won't lose the court case."

"Then why did you go to bat for me with Mr. Madden?"

"Jane again," Kenneth told her. "She wouldn't want you to suffer for doing what you think is right and for caring about your brother. In fact, she'd be furious that you were in any way threatened."

"This doesn't make any sense."

"Hey, I tried to explain to you. Jane Thompson is one of the world's good guys. . gals."

"You're still saying that. Are you going to show up at my hotel tomorrow? As. . what did you call yourself? Kendra?"

"Unless you tell me you've changed your mind," Kenneth replied, just a little grimly. "I don't mind telling you that I'm not looking forward to it."

"Why? Because you'll be hurt by it? Because you'll be humiliated to appear in women's clothing?"

"No, that's not it."

"Well, then, what is it?"

"You'll laugh," he told her, "And that will upset me."

"Ken, I am trying to understand, and I will do my best not to laugh at you. Why aren't you looking forward to it?"

Ken sighed deeply, and stopped walking. He stared off into the distance in silence for a time, and then shrugged. "I'm some six inches taller and forty pounds heavier than the boy who could pass as Kendra," he told her. "Kendra was actually rather attractive. I guess what really bothers me is that I want to remember her that way. I haven't tried to be her since the day I realized I was taller in my bare feet than Kendra had been in four inch heels."

"Four INCH heels?" Anne sputtered. "You could manage four inch heels at what, five feet five?"

"Five-seven," Kenneth corrected, "or at least, the last time I was Kendra."

"And what you're afraid of is that you'll remember her as something less because of what I've asked you to do tomorrow?"

"Strange, isn't it?" Kenneth asked. "When boys first show up at Jane's, the worst thing they are told is how 'cute' they are, once she gets them into those first frillies. It is the first attack on their overblown masculine hubris. Now, the thing that bothers me is that I can no longer live up to what Kendra once was."

Barbara Anne Braithwaite didn't know quite what to say to that and so, said nothing. Ken gave her a lopsided grin that did funny things to her insides. "C'mon, Anne, it's getting chilly out here. Let me walk you to your hotel. I've got an appointment this evening and I don't want to be late."

 

 

 

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