Tales of the Season - Ken's Barbie

by Tigger
Copyright 2002

 

Chapter 29: On the Road Again

Barbie _had_ a plan - after all, if Kenneth Roberts had learned nothing else in those scary years of dealing with his mother, it was the importance of being prepared. Being prepared meant having a goal and an idea of how to get there. Kenneth Roberts - Barbie - had both.

Only problem was, so far, over an hour into their trip home, Anne had yet to give him an opening. Then, he saw a billboard, and smiled.

"Ever been to Nickerson Farms?" Barbie asked, with studied nonchalance.

That earned Barbie a snort of laughter. "I'm a Hoosier-Girl, tall-stuff. Of course I've been there. Matter of fact, there's one just up the way here, isn't there?"

"Sure is. Up for lunch?"

"Sounds good."

~-~

They were barely ten feet from their car when the explosion of a camera-flash had them both momentarily seeing stars. A grinning young boy - a teenager, actually, no older than Adrian, stood before them holding a high-tech digital camera in his hands.

"Man, I'm glad I got that shot. None of the guys back home would ever believe that I saw two blondes as beautiful as you without proof." Then he dashed away, as if afraid they might confiscate his camera.

"Beautiful? Two?" Anne looked up at Barbie.

"The young one speaks truth, grasshopper," the taller blonde intoned. Then she giggled and said, "It must be the new earrings. I thought that bun might be a little severe for a day trip, but the way it focuses attention on your ears and those little shimmery waterfalls - shows off your face very nicely, indeed."

Barbie walked on towards the restaurant leaving Anne staring at the taller girl's back, her mouth open in surprise.

~-~

Anne wasn't quite sure how Barbie had managed to get them what passed for privacy in the rustic roadside eatery, but she had managed. They were seated off in a corner, with the only traffic being the servers rushing into and out of the kitchen. As the restaurant was dealing with the noon-meal rush, none of these were likely to be long within earshot, and no casual customer was likely to linger nearby for fear of being run over by a knockwurst-and-sauerkraut-carrying waitress with her head down.

Well, it was almost private. Midway through their main course, a woman passing by in search of the restroom spied them and came hurrying over. "Oh, I'm so glad I saw you!" she gushed, even as she dug through her huge purse. She extracted a thick, leather bound book, opened it to a page about halfway through and offered it to Anne. "I watch you EVERY day on 'Modern Life/Modern Love'. It's just my FAVORITE daytime drama. Could you please autograph my book for me? The girls back home will be positively GREEN with envy."

Stunned, Anne managed a "I beg your pardon?"

"Oh, you make the most perfect bitch on the show - much better than Susan Lucci if you ask me. Why, you're MUCH prettier than she is. Oh, do tell me that Margery will be going to have an affair with that dreamy Darren? The two of you in bed, even if it's only pretend with the sheets over you just makes my heart go pity-pat."

Baffled, Anne looked to Barbie, who grinned mischievously and then took pity on her. "Well, ma'am, you know that actresses on popular soaps have clauses in their contracts that preclude them from discussing plans for new story lines. I'm sure you'll understand. Now, darling," she cooed at Anne, "Sign your fan's book and remember to use 'Margery' as it is in your contract."

"Oh. . of . . of course," Anne mumbled and then quickly slashed out an unfamiliar - and she hoped, illegible - signature on the heavy paper.

"Please keep this to yourself, ma'am," Barbie smiled to the avid fan as she handed back the autograph book. "Otherwise we'll have to leave without our lunch."

"What, share this with ANYone? You've got to be kidding! And thanks ever so, Margery." The woman snatched up her book and nearly tripped getting away.

"She thought I was an actress," Anne murmured, almost to herself.

"A house-wrecking man-stealer, by the sound of it," Barbie teased. "Type-casting, you think?"

Anne only shot her companion a dark look under mascara-thickened lashes.

If Barbie had hoped that interlude would loosen the shorter blonde up, she was doomed to disappointment. For the remainder of the main course, the silence that had become all too frequent reasserted itself. Other than to talk to that autograph hound, Anne ordered her meal, said three yes-es and three thank-yous to the server, and very little else. When desert arrived, Barbie decided that she'd had enough. It was time to take her plan and go for it! "So, I've been meaning to ask. Would you mind a bit of a detour on the way home, I mean, back to Kingston?"

Startled, Anne looked up from her hot fudge cake, her eyes curious. "What for?"

"A little break, I guess," Barbie sighed. "It's been a tough few days, and when we get back, you'll have to deal with the situation surrounding your brother. I'll be involved, too, and, well, I'd just like to decompress a bit first. Take a few days to get my equilibrium back."

"I thought Ruth said you were anxious to get back."

"I was anxious to get away from. . . well, from what was left of Sheila. I'm not anxious to run back into whatever is going on in Kingston. I'm too tense. I might make a mistake and mess something up for Jane and your brother, for you."

Barbie wasn't the only one who was on edge, Anne admitted to herself. It might do her a world of good to unwind first, as well. After all, whatever happened three weeks after they returned would be on her head. She'd need to have a clear head to make the correct decision. "What do you have in mind?"

"Nothing much. Maybe cut north and go home by way of Niagra Falls. Take the ferry across Lake Champlain, and I want to stop at a shop I know in New Haven - Tante Marie's birthday's coming up soon, and I need to buy her a gift. How does that sound?"

It sounded marvelous, if she were to be honest about it. It was also rather . . . scary, in a feminine sort of way. She looked at her companion carefully. "That makeup stuff is starting to wear off," she observed.

Barbie shrugged that off. "You can help me keep that from becoming a problem. Besides, it is just as well if it were gone by the time we got back to Kingston. I may be needed as Kenneth again."

"Still, the sooner I get back, the sooner this is all over and done."

"A couple more days won't make a difference, Skip. Haven't you decided by now that Jane isn't out to emasculate your brother? Do you really believe she isn't doing everything she can to help him? REALLY help him turn himself around?"

"I think she is trying to do what she knows how to do, and what has had success in the past," Anne replied carefully.

"Do you think she would or could do anything to hurt him?" Kenneth's voice, intense but too low to be heard beyond their table, suddenly demanded. "Because if you still do, after meeting me, meeting my brothers, really meeting Ruth, then we need to call Jane right now and tell her to stop and pull the plug."

"What, and my brother goes to jail?"

"Ruth already told you that won't happen - she told me that, too. Besides, _I_ will tell Jane to end it. Adrian will be de-girled and in trousers by the time we arrive in Kingston sometime tomorrow morning."

The heat and emotion she felt coming from her companion took Anne by surprise. She'd never seen the tall blonde like this, except when Ruth had told them the facts of Sheila Robert's death, and the fallout from that death. "I have a deal with your Aunt," she temporized. "Three weeks, remember? I keep my deals."

"Do you believe that a few days, more or less, could harm your brother?" Barbie demanded again. "This has to be what's best for him AND for you. If you don't believe that Jane can help him - WILL help him - and things go sour later on, you're going to blame yourself for making the deal. I won't let that happen."

"I made a deal," she said again, her voice uneven as she strove for control.

"Not the right answer," Barbie retorted and reached into her purse to pull out a cell-phone. She punched in a preprogrammed number and waited. "Hello," she said, "Momma-Jane? Ken. . .dra here. Say, Mom? There's been a change of plan. . . .yes. I've been talking with Anne, and. ."

Anne reached up to snatch the small phone from Barbie's hand. "Ms. Jane? Anne here, yes. We're going to be a few more days getting back, if that's all right with you. Kendra needs some down time, away from stress.. . . . yes, it was a bit difficult for her there, at least some of the time. . . . that's right. With Adrian's disposition in the balance, we both felt it would be better to come back a little more refreshed. . . . . what are we going to do? Oh, sight-see a bit. Niagara Falls, Lake Champlain, do a little shopping. . . . what's that? Oh. Yes, she's still going to be, umm, shall we say in high color a few more days. It should be near normal by the time we return, in the event you need your attorney. . . .I will. Thanks. See you soon." And with that, Anne broke the connection, refolded the phone and handed it to a hard-eyed Barbie.

"You're right," she said finally. "I just hope my brother isn't one of the two she couldn't find a way to turn around.

With that, Barbie seemed to relax, and reached over to take both the phone and Anne's hand in her own. "She will find a way. We all will help. You'll see. Ready to leave?"

"Okay. Umm, how far is it to Niagara Falls?"

"Don't know, but I've got a GPS rig in my car. Let's try to make it today if we can, and play tourist tomorrow."

"I want to go on the boat that goes under the falls," Anne wheedled.

"And you think Jane is scary! You're on, girlfriend. Let's get this show on the road."

~-~

"Margery?" Anne asked as she accelerated onto the interstate highway. "I've never even watched a soap opera, let alone acted in one. I probably committed a crime by signing that book for her!"

"Only if she tries to sell it, and I don't think she will. Besides, how would she find you?"

"I still can't believe she thought I was an actress."

"Must be that new nail color you're sporting, kiddo," Barbie teased. "Nice claws, by the way. Dangerous."

Anne glanced down at her hands on the steering wheel. After Ruth had left last night, she'd started packing and had run across some of the cosmetics that Jane had given her for the trip. For some reason, she'd paused long enough to read the label of one bottle of particularly vivid nail polish - 'Hot Tropical Sunset' - and had been literally unable to put it down.

Her nails looked particularly striking against the steering wheel's creamy leather. Impishly, she raked those blood-red claws at Barbie and growled out, "Marrrrooowwrrrrrrrr."

The taller girl cowered nicely and then grinned. "I thought she said 'bitch', not 'cat'."

Skipper grinned back, for some reason well pleased. "When you're a femme fatale, you get called both - and both are just as dangerous."

The low purr that followed that statement made something deep in Barbie's gut clench.

~-~

"So, Jessica, if I were to ask you summarize your opinion on this subject, having presented the facts and analysis?" Jane asked her student.

A slightly self-satisfied smile lit the perfectly made-up young face. With a definite flourish, she reached into her book bag and extracted a book. Jane immediately recognized the ragged volume, for it was one of three items Jessica - as Jesse - had cared about when the teen had first arrived at Seasons House.

Jane watched as her student's fingers found slip of paper acting as bookmark, and opened the tome. After glancing up to her teacher for permission, Jessica began to read. ". . . the prince must consider . . . how to avoid those things which will make him hated or contemptible; and as often as he shall have succeeded he will have fulfilled his part, and he need not fear any danger in other reproaches."

Jessica then paged to another marked passage and continued, "It makes him hated above all things . . . to be greedy, and to be a violator of the property . . . of his subjects, from both of which he must abstain."

When her student closed the book, Jane couldn't help the smile the gentled her features. "All of which means?"

"It goes back to an earlier discussion of ours, Aunt Jane," the strawberry blond student answered. "Ends justify the

means, as Machiavelli believed, but in this case, the end itself was not justifiable. While I am not certain that there could be a specific case in which such liberties with investors' life-savings could be legitimate, in this case it's very clear that these manipulations were not legitimate. Simply stated, the individual officials became greedy and violated their investors. As a result, they have come to be despised, and have lost their kingdoms."

Jane sat back, her eyes steady on this young person who was quickly becoming as much her child as Darryl, Michael or Kenneth. Perhaps, to some extent, even more so for she'd never had a student who seemed so much her image, albeit in a more petite form. "Well argued," she finally said, "For once. Logically and rationally presented, with just a touch of emotion, but not too much. An 'A' on this one, my dear, and well earned."

"Thank you, Aunt Jane," Jessica beamed.

"How did the work with Adrienne go today?"

"We were successful in finding the information I think you wanted her to find. Personally, I found the process of forced single child families frightening, particularly the way they enforce it with mandatory, if undocumented abortions."

"How did Adrienne react to those discoveries?"

"They made her curious to find out more, and I think that surprised her. I don't think school has been all that interesting for her back home. Then she saw the comparative survival statistics on male/female children, and read about what several expert observers think happens to many girl children there. Those findings upset her. That surprised her, too."

"Did she say why?

"Not in so many words, but it's clear she's made the connection to that girl at the mime class. I think she realized how lucky that one is only to have been abandoned."

"So, the results of her research bothered her," Jane mused reflectively. "A good sign, that. Well, I will be very interested to read her report. The introduction she writes for her new friend should also tell us a good deal about her current mindset. Jessica? I think we may just have started on the breakthrough with this one. Step one is that the student has to care. It sounds like Adrienne is starting to care. Now, at least."

 

 

Chapter 30: Interchanges and Interludes

"Hello? Children's Hospital? Yes, this is Jane Thompson calling. I'd like to speak to Head Nurse Nora Bedford, please."

The receptionist put Jane on hold and she suffered through nearly 72.4 seconds of awful elevator music before the line clicked and "Nora Bedford speaking," saved her sanity.

"Nora, Jane Thompson here."

"Jane! There's no problem, is there? Did one of the students get hurt?!?"

It was a sad commentary on their recent relationship, Jane mused, especially since they were friends, that Nora's first reaction to being called by Jane Thompson was that her professional services might be required. Well, actually, they were, but fortunately not in the way Nora supposed. "No, everyone's fine. Actually, I needed some information and hoped you might know something."

"What do you need, Jane?"

"Do you happen to know a woman doctor by the name of Hearst? One who has adopted a child of Chinese extraction?"

"Oh, sure," Nora said warmly. "Dr. Celia Hearst. Wonderful doc - ophthalmic specialist. Good surgeon - the real kind, not the LASIK stuff."

"What can you tell me about her, Nora? Let me explain. Her daughter has become involved with my latest student. I need to know more about the mother before I decide how far I should attempt to go with this stratagem."

"Well, I like her - personally as well as professionally. She's something of a feminist - tends to go her own way. She's never married and evidently had to really go to the limit to get that child because of that. She cares, Janey. I've seen her with families. A lot of surgeons have the bedside manner of a half-full bedpan, but she's different. Patients, and the families of patients trust her. She could make a lot more money in Boston or another of the bigger cities, too. I've heard that she's always receiving offers, but she likes it here - especially for her daughter."

"Sounds like good people, Nora. Now the tough question. How do you think she'd react if Adrienne messed up and blew the masquerade around her or her daughter?"

"You're right - that is a tough one." The phone line went silent for just a moment. "I guess it would depend on how she interpreted your intentions. If she decides you're abusing the kid, she'll go for your throat. Kids are special to her. She does a lot of charity work with them. I've heard she sometimes even covers the cost of the operating room out of her own pocket when parents can't afford it, if that's what it takes to save a child's vision. If, however, she decides you're for real and what you do helps? My take is she's quirky enough, and feminist enough, to go along with it."

"I can't tell her up front what we do here, Nora. Not until I have had a chance to take her measure for myself. Too many others are involved."

"Then I suggest you be around whenever Adrienne has a chance of running into her, Jane. I like her, but she reminds me a bit of you when it comes to kids. I wouldn't want you OR her thinking _I_ was endangering a child. It would not be good for my long-term health."

Jane thought about that, and nodded to herself. "Got it. Thanks, Nora. Say, are you free next Saturday? If you don't mind Seasons House formal, I'd very much enjoy having you to dinner."

"Marie's Chicken Cordon Bleu?" Nora asked reverently.

"Just for you, dear."

"My waistline hates you, but is overruled. I'll be there."

"Six o'clock, dear. And thanks. I've got to make a few more calls. You wouldn't have a phone number for Dr. Hearst would you?"

"Sure, let me get it for you."

~-~

"That spray is COOOLLLLLDDD!" Anne squealed as the excursion boat bobbed and swayed in the turbulence of the collection pool. Anne's voice could barely be heard above the roar of the tons of water crashing down.

If the water was cold, Barbie certainly was not - not with the view Anne presented.

Barbie had never seen the girl like this. Her hair was held in a flirty little ponytail that danced about her head as she laughed with the sheer pleasure of the experience. She'd dressed for the summer heat in a simple sun dress of white cotton highlighted by red and yellow flowers - a dress that clung to her every curve. *Guess I understand why British debutantes used to wear watered muslin gowns to show off their figures,* Barbie thought.

In the fine mist, her cheeks and lips were pink and moist, shining vibrantly in the sun. She was gorgeous, and her beauty, her joy, made the man inside Barbie ache for her.

Suddenly, Anne enveloped Barbie in a tight embrace, "Oh, isn't it MARVELOUS?" she yelled. "Thank you for bringing me here. It's just so LOVELY." and then she went up on tiptoe and planted a kiss on her friend's lips.

Anne broke the embrace and rushed back to the railing so she didn't see the stunned look on Barbie's face, or the hand that came up to caress the place Anne's lips had touched.

~-~

"I thought Adrienne did rather well tonight, didn't you, Jane?" Marie asked as she sipped her nightcap in Jane's private rooms.

"Yes, I must say that the depth of her analysis and the completeness of her research surprised me. Her grades as Adrian did not indicate that she possessed such talent. If Jessica had not assured me that this was all Adrienne's own work, I might have suspected my big sister of going a little soft on me."

Marie snorted. "As if that one would ever subvert one of your plans that way. I think it's more likely that Adrienne, like some others I could name, isn't suited to the classic classroom environment. The individual attention you give them in their studies has helped more than one find their way academically. Michael for one. Still, I find the fact that she does possess a good brain encouraging."

"Why is that, dear?" Jane smiled, too sweetly.

"Because it's the dumb ones who give us the most trouble - and don't you grin at me like that, Jane Thompson! You know it as well as I do!"

"Of course I do, Marie. I was just teasing. The smart ones figure out the masquerade faster, so we can proceed more quickly with them. They also are quicker to see the alternatives their feminized state forces upon them, and to see how those changes in behavior might actually be to their ultimate benefit. It takes a flexible mind to accept many of those lessons, and usually, a flexible mind is an intelligent mind, a creative mind. We already knew that Adrian-the-boy was creatively inclined. Now we have very good indication that there is a good intelligence there, too. One we will prod a bit in the coming weeks."

"You could see how disturbing she found those Chinese population control policies and practices," Marie murmured.

"Mostly that was an emotional response, albeit a very good one for our purposes. I was more pleased that she tried to examine the genetic and diversity issues as well. That shows a willingness to explore difficult concepts and to learn new things. Which also bodes well for our student's future."

"So, what's next?"

"I've spoken with Dr. Hearst. She's more than happy to have Adrienne and I come to visit so that the girls can work on their skit. That will give me a chance to meet Dr. Hearst, and it will give Adrienne a chance to solidify her friendship with Xhinea.

"What happens when Adrian comes back? If they truly become friends?"

Jane sighed. "I don't know," she admitted. "At one time, I would have avoided this type of complication, but I'm running out of time, Marie. If Xhinea can help Adrienne, then I have to try and hope I don't hurt either of them in the attempt."

"Well, I'm sure it will work out. You've incredible instincts in these things."

 

 

Chapter 31: Breakthroughs

"Ms. Thompson, how good to meet you. I've heard wonderful things about you from my colleagues in Pediatric Oncology." Jane took the proffered hand and decided she liked the look of this woman. Celia Hearst was a woman of in-between height and average build. Her light brown hair was cut short, a factor which Jane attributed to having to wear surgical scrubs because the 'style' did little to enhance her looks. Her face was strongly featured, but not pretty. She had a too-wide mouth, a Roman nose and a stubborn chin. Her eyes were her best feature, Jane mused - large, a bit widely spaced, but a deep, rich brown shot with sparks of gold. However, her face also bore the unmistakable lines of a woman who smiled and laughed easily. She was smiling now.

"Jane, please, Dr. Hearst," Jane smiled back.

"Then I'm Celia. And this must be Adrienne. I must tell you both that I have looked forward to this meeting, both because of your reputation with my peers, Jane, but also because Xhenea has done little else but talk about Adrienne since she attended class." She offered her hand to blonde teen who blushed but accepted the offering gracefully, Jane was pleased to note. Since giving her word, Adrienne had been truly giving her best efforts.

"Thank you for having us, Dr. Hearst," Adrienne said shyly. "I've been looking forward to seeing your daughter again."

"She's upstairs in her room, getting ready for your practice. I see you're already dressed and ready to go," Celia Hearst said as she gave Adrienne's classic mime's costume a once-over. "You'll be practicing out back. We have a little gazebo that should suit your needs. Will we get a preview tonight, I hope?"

Adrienne shot a quick glance to Jane who gave an almost imperceptible nod. "Yes, Dr. Hearst, at least, a preview of whatever we manage to get done."

"Wonderful. Ah, here's Xhinea, now."

Following Celia's quick introduction of her daughter and Jane, the two young people hurried off to their practices, leaving the two adults smiling after them. "Well," Celia said after a few moments, "May I offer you something to drink, Jane? Iced tea? Or perhaps some wine?"

"Iced tea would be lovely, Celia," Jane replied, and then followed her hostess into the kitchen.

~-~

Silence was once again the order of the day, as Anne drove the powerful car across New York State's Northern Tier towards the resort area of Lake Champlain.

Things had seemed to grow increasingly awkward between them ever since Anne's impulsive kiss. And it was beginning to grate on Barbie's nerves.

"I liked it, you know," she finally growled.

Startled out of her own thoughts, Skipper flicked a glance over at her frowning companion. "Hmmm? What was that?"

"I _LIKED_ being kissed by you," Barbie answered, heat coloring each word. "I LIKED it a LOT!"

Skipper's eyes went wide before they spun back to the road and away from the intensely glaring blonde. A pink tongue slipped out to moisten lips suddenly dry. "Oh."

"OH? That's all you have to say?!? OH?!?"

"Don't you yell at me, Blondie! I don't know why you're suddenly angry," she flared back, her own emotions on a hair trigger. "What do you WANT me to say?"

"I'm NOT yelling and I'm NOT angry," Barbie yelled back and then caught herself. With an effort, she quieted her voice. "I'm frustrated," she admitted softly. "And, well, I'd like to hear you say that you. . well, liked it, too."

The gentle entreaty cooled Anne's own heated emotions, and she sighed. With conscious effort, she focused her eyes on the road ahead, and flexed her fingers on the steering wheel. Neither said another word for several heartbeats. Then, she sighed again and glanced over at Barbie. "I liked it, too," she admitted in a husky whisper. "But I don't know what to do about it."

Something relaxed inside Barbie, and she managed a smile. "Guess we'll have to find out together, because I've never been down this path before, either."

~-~

"Come on, Xhinea, this is not just MY skit - we're both supposed to be working on it," Adrienne complained. "What do you think so far?"

"It's all right," she said in her softly inflected and accented voice.

Reminding herself of her promise to at least seem to enjoy everything, Adrienne forced a smile to her lips. "Surely there's something we could be doing better."

Xhinea's eyes became very round, and Adrienne thought she saw something there, saw her almost say something but then Xhinea closed her eyes and shook her head. "Now, I don't believe that. You had an idea and then decided not to say it. Why won't you tell me?"

Adrienne watched her new friend struggle with something inside. At least watching her wasn't at all difficult, the blonde student decided. Xhinea was cute in that mime outfit of tight red coveralls, barber-pole striped socks and a bright yellow turtleneck. She had her fine, midnight-black hair in a braid that ran practically all the way down her back. Adrienne decided that long dark hair braided like that was really, really pretty, but it was the petite Chinese girl's eyes drew a second, third and fourth look. Almost black, and incredibly expressive. "I...I want us to be friends," she finally stammered out. "I don't wish to offend you."

So that was the problem, Adrienne thought. "Hey, we're supposed to tell each other how to be better, right? That's not being offensive - not unless you're nasty about it - and you don't know how to be nasty. And we ARE friends. So, friend, tell me what you think we should do."

For several more moments, Xhinea simply looked at Adrienne's face, as if seeking truth there. Only Jane Thompson's recent training helped the blond student avoid squirming under that concentrated stare. "Okay," she said finally. "Umm, I think you move too quickly. It's hard to tell what you're doing because it is too soon done and you're doing something else."

Adrienne considered that and smiled for real. "You mean that the audience wouldn't have enough time to figure out what a movement was meant to be doing?" At the hesitant nod, Adrienne grinned. "Good catch. Let's see if we can do it better this time. Now, remember, the door is stuck, and it takes both of us to pull it open. Ready?"

A hopeful smile came to the dark-haired girl's face, and she reached up to put her hands beneath Adrienne's hands. "Ready."

~-~

Skipper waited in the car while Barbie went into the motel. It was the fifth they'd stopped at, and the first one not to have the "no" light in front of 'Vacancy' illuminated. They hadn't considered the availability, or rather, the non-availability of motel rooms during high tourist season when they'd embarked on this little journey of discovery. And they'd already found out that they'd missed the day's last ferry trip across the lake. They either got a motel room here, slept in the car or headed south toward Albany. The car was not built for sleeping and they were both too tired to drive much further.

A frowning Barbie walked out of the motel lobby and slipped into the passenger seat. "Well, they had one room left. Two full size beds. I got it for you. We can make calls to other motels and see if we can find another room for me."

~-~

"No luck?" Anne asked as Barbie put the phone down yet again.

"None. We were lucky someone canceled out of this one at the last minute."

"Look, Barbie, there's two beds. You can sleep here tonight. I'll change in the bathroom. I don't want you trying to sleep in that car."

"You're sure? I mean, you know I'm not really one of the girls. . ."

Anne snorted. "Look, Roberts. One thing I'm sure of, okay? I am in no danger of you doing anything against my will. So, stay here tonight, and we'll catch the first ferry in the morning so we'll still be able to make New Haven by noon."

The tall blonde gave Anne a telling look, but then shrugged. "I really didn't want to spend the night in my car. Thanks, Skip."

~-~

Jane waited until they were on the road before saying anything to her oddly quiet student. "You made progress today," she said. "I think your skit will be well received tomorrow at your class."

Pleasantly tired, Adrienne smiled. "Yes. I think we'll do well. Xhinea has a real eye for this type of thing. Once I convinced her I wouldn't hate her for telling me what wasn't working, things really improved, I think."

"It's hard for someone who never had anyone encourage them, care for them, to take chances with friendships," Jane observed.

The blond head quirked up, and curious eyes considered Jane for a moment. "She's okay."

Jane decided it was time to take a small gamble. "Her mother is concerned about her, that she's so isolated because she has had a difficult time fitting in, making friends. Things like her speech and looks."

"But she's so pretty," Adrienne protested, "And I think her accent is cool."

"She was evidently shy when she arrived here from Mainland China, and her mother worries that she isn't growing out of that."

"She wasn't all that shy with me," Adrienne protested, remembering how stubbornly Xhinea had pressed one point. Then she remembered, "At least, toward the end of our session, anyway."

Jane rewarded her pupil with a smile - a real one, not one of her famous 'gotcha' smiles. "Then you've done particularly well, today, and not just on your class assignment."

Embarrassed and surprised by the praise, Adrienne lapsed into thought for most of the ride home. As they pulled in through the main gate of Seasons House, she reached a decision. "Ms. Jane?"

"Yes, Adrienne?"

"I may change my introduction of Xhinea. I need to think it through, but if I do decide I want do it differently, do you want me to practice it again? In front of you?"

A time to sow and a time to reap, Jane mused. Perhaps it was time to see if the fruit was becoming ripe. "Oh, I think I can trust your judgement in this, Adrienne." *Now,* she added mentally.

"Thank you. Oh, and do you think it would be all right to invite Xhinea here? Say, on Sunday afternoon?"

"I think that could be arranged. I'll call Dr. Hearst when we get home. Perhaps a picnic by the pool?"

"That would be very nice, ma'am."

"Then," and the patented Thompson smile was back, "We'll need to take you to town tomorrow. You'll need a swimsuit, and Milady's Closet has an excellent selection."

Swallowing hard, Adrienne managed to smile herself. "Thank you," she said again before adding, "I've missed swimming."

~-~

By unspoken agreement, Barbie had taken first use of the bathroom. She's showered quickly, washed her hair and then brushed her teeth. A careful inspection showed that the resilient cosmetics were starting to fade quickly, and she made a mental note to start using some of the normal make-up tomorrow. She also saw that dark roots were beginning to creep into where she parted her hair - not seriously, but enough that she'd have to make a decision when they returned to Seasons House. Just then, she thought it was time to go back to being a brunette so that she could be Kenneth again if, or rather when necessary.

She slipped into a long cotton nightgown and then exited the bathroom. "Your turn," she told Skipper as she slipped between the covers of the bed nearest the door and furthest from the bathroom. "Okay if I turn off the bedside light and try to get to sleep while you're in there?"

"Sure. The nightlight is enough for me to find my way to bed. Pleasant dreams, Barbie."

"Thanks. You, too."

But sleep did not come to the femininely-turned out young man. Hormones he'd thought himself long in control of raged as images of Skipper, wet from the shower and soapy-slick in living color , played over and over again before his very restless mind's eye. He stifled a moan of near-pain as the gaff he still wore stifled something else.

He rolled to his side, curling into a fetal position when the bathroom door opened, flooding light into the back of the small motel room. Unable to resist, he cracked open one eye as Anne stepped out into that pool of light.

She might as well not bothered with the shortie nightgown as the bathroom's glow backlit her, making her every curve clearly visible through the almost transparent silk. Slamming shut his eye, Kenneth/Kendra/Barbie Roberts began a long night of fruitless sheep-counting as Anne extinguished the bathroom light and slipped into her own bed.

 

 

 

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