Tales of the Season - Ken's Barbie

by Tigger
Copyright 2002

 

Chapter 32: First Steps

Adrienne suppressed the urge to sigh as the Audi pulled away from the curb. She'd just finished her second session at the class on mime and things had gone well there at least. She and Xhinea had done at least as good a job on their skit as any other pairing - not as well as Mr. Fredricks and his partner had, but they were experienced at this kind of acting. Now, she had another assignment for the next class - another skit, in fact - one where she and her partner would have a tea party. Well, she sure knew more about tea parties now than she ever had in her life, thanks to Ms. Jane and Miss Marie. She'd been a little surprised that Mr. Fredricks hadn't changed the teams for this one. That was okay with Adrienne - she liked Xhinea and Xhinea seemed to like her, too. And besides, they could double up on Sunday and spend some time working on their act, when Xhinea and her Mom came over to Seasons House for the pool party.

Which reminded Adrienne why she was here, standing on the curb, watching the receding Audi disappear around a corner. The heck of it was, she couldn't even decide whether she was feeling relief or resignation. On the plus side, she was now free from Ms. Darla Smith's super-critical commentary for the next hour or two. Unfortunately, that freedom wasn't really free, and in this case, the cost was having to face the torments of Milady's Closet alone and unaided.

"It's only a bathing suit," she muttered to herself. "How hard can that be?"

With a more than wistful glance at a taxicab's receding tail lights, she squared her shoulders, put her 'I'm happy to be here just like I promised' smile on her face, and opened the door to the shop. Whereupon she was met by the gorgeous salesgirl, Sally. "Oh, hi there!" she bubbled. "Welcome back. Ms. Franson is waiting for you in the back."

Pleased that she wasn't going to have to hide her special secret from the girl who made the secret hard and thus hard to hide, Adrienne thanked Sally and headed back toward the modeling room.

"Adrienne," Betty said pleasantly. "Jane tells me you're having a pool party and need outfitting."

"Yes, Ma'am," the teen replied cautiously. "I need a bathing suit - just in case."

"You need that, all right, Missy, but I said you need 'outfitting'. A young lady at the pool requires more in the way of attire than merely a bathing suit. After all, she can't just pull on a ratty old t-shirt like boys do, can she?" Adrienne paled at that, and looked rapidly around her. "There's no one else to hear us, sweetie," Betty said more gently. Obviously, this one was going to be easier now, and Betty decided that she would continue her earlier role of friendly fellow-adventurer. "Now, come on, this will be fun. You do swim, don't you?"

"I love to swim," Adrienne said wistfully, "or at least I did before I came here."

"Then we'll find you a suit and accessories so you can enjoy swimming again. Jane has a LOVELY pool. Tell you what, you pick out some suits that catch your eye and we'll have a private fashion show. Once you've made your selection, I will help you with the accessories."

"M. . me? Pick it out?"

"Oh, it will be easy," Betty laughed and then put her mouth to the teen's ear. "Remember that pretty girl who looks like Adrienne, dear," she whispered. "The one you want to take to the beach."

~-~

Later, Betty had cause to wonder if that might not have been the best image to put in the mind of someone who was, all visual evidence aside, a horny young teenaged male. *Well, at least she had the sense, or the modesty, to leave the thongs on the rack. Jane would have killed me. How best to handle this without losing too much ground? Maybe . . . *

"Well, what do you think, Adrienne?" she asked noncommittally.

A totally unexpected giggle bubbled up from inside the young blonde. Then she hastily looked around Betty to see if anyone was nearby before looking up at the older woman. "I think," she said in earnest if hushed tones, "that I don't look anything like that girl we were talking about earlier, Ms. Franson. She wouldn't be caught dead in any of these."

This time it was Betty Franson who almost giggled, but she instead managed a Vulcanic brow-lift. "Oh, and why ever not."

Adrienne could not contain her mirth as she pirouetted in front of the three sided mirror. "Because she's got boo. . .I mean, she has a real figure." The girl-boy ran her hand down her bikini-clad body with all the drama of a car-show model. "Without my. . umm, under-things, I don't. Have a figure, that is."

Betty couldn't help it this time, she laughed. "No, dear, you don't have boobs, but then, neither do many of our customers your age. Why don't we try another style and see if we can't help you as we do them, eh?"

~-~

Jane would be pleased, Betty thought thirty minutes later as she watched her young customer examine herself in the mirror. The single piece suit was actually a racing suit but with some special, added design features - such as two small, but visible, silicon inserts in the suit's bodice. "Well?"

"I look good," Adrienne said softly, holding up the mass of honey-blond hair in a gesture so unconsciously feminine, that Betty smiled. "You said something about accessories."

"Yes. A cover-up, maybe a sun-hat, a beach bag and some flip-flop sandals - I have some lovely ones with thick soles that the girls love because it adds an inch or two to their height."

"Damn," Adrienne groaned, wilting for the first time since she'd arrived.

Concerned, Betty moved over to put a comforting hand on the girl's shoulder. "What's the matter, child?"

The face that looked up to her was, despite the cosmetic artistry, somehow not quite so feminine as it had been but moments ago. "Even as a girl, I'm not tall enough. Do you know, I used to get mad at my mother for giving me the short genes and my sister the tall genes? Mad at my sister for being taller than me."

"That's not the only measure of a person, you know," Betty said gently. "In this day and age, it's not even really a very important one."

The snort that answered her was not at all feminine nor mannerly. "How many short guys get the cutest girls, Ms. Franson? They all want guys that will still be taller than they are when they wear their heels. You know how many girls are shorter than I am when they wear FLATS? Over the age of nine years old, that is?"

There was a world of pain there, and Betty felt momentarily helpless in the face of it. Jane would know, she thought frantically, but Jane wasn't here. "Well, off hand, I can think of two young men, both. . ummm, not gifted height-wise, who have done very well for themselves," images of Michael Nash and Darryl Smith floated through Betty's mind. "One's married and the other is affianced, both to young lovely women who are several inches taller than they are."

"The exception that proves the rule," Adrienne said sadly.

"The case that proves there is always hope, if one is willing to work for opportunities and do what is necessary to earn them."

"You mean, like being nice and knowing what girls like? Stuff like that?"

"It's a start. Being a good provider and a caring person helps, too."

"Annie got the 'nice genes', too."

"Oh, I don't know about that. I've had rather a good time this morning. You're fun to be with, when you aren't working at being a little snot."

"That was just me keeping my promise to Ms. Jane. You know, acting like I enjoy being a girl and all that."

"Well, if it's an act, it makes you very nice to be around, but let me ask you to think about this. How much of it was really acting? Oh, I know the clothes and the girlishness are, but were you really only pretending to have fun? Don't answer - not yet. Think about it and then decide. Now, c'mon. Let's get you rigged out and checked out. Darla will be here soon and we still have a great deal to do."

"More?" Adrienne whined, more for form than anything else. "I have to try on more stuff?"

"Of course. The accessories have to go with the outfit and with your coloring, but look on the bright side."

"There is one?"

"Sure is," Betty Franson said with a wicked and mischievous grin. "Just think of Jane Thompson's face when she gets the bill for this little expedition." *That will teach her to leave me alone with a child who's about to go through his crisis point. And I won't even give her the usual volume discount!*

~-~

The late afternoon sun was warm on Anne's back as she and Barbie stood on the top deck of the ferry they'd boarded in Port Kent, New York. Leaning onto the safety rail, she felt the wind rushing through her hair and felt marvelous. "Isn't it great?!" she asked, turning to look at her taller friend.

"Great," Barbie agreed without anything resembling enthusiasm. "Just wonderful."

"Oh, you," Anne grinned. "You've been grumpy all day, ever since you got of bed on the wron . . "

"If you say wrong side of the bed, you going to have to swim to Burlington," Barbie growled.

"What IS the matter with you? The sun's shining, the lake is positively BeeeYOUtiful and all you can do is snarl." She tossed her hair and sniffed at such behavior.

"We've driven 800 miles in two days, sight seen, and in between, I've slept maybe two hours, okay? So, I'm just a little bit testy."

"I don't know why you didn't sleep. I slept great!" Barbie mumbled something that Anne thought sounded like "You wouldn't understand." "What was that?" she demanded.

Something seemed to snap inside the tall blonde and Anne suddenly found herself nose-to-nose with fire-eyed Amazon. "I SHOULD have said," Barbie hissed out in slow, measured tones, "that the problem I had, YOU aren't equipped to experience." The memory of Anne's innocent light show of the previous night, of her sleek, curvy body outlined in a halo of incandescent silk, brought back in full force the physiological proof of Barbie's true nature. She groaned in discomfort before locking eyes with Anne once again. "You might as well have been naked last night when you came out of the bathroom - that nightie hid nothing and enhanced, god, EVERYthing. I wanted nothing more than to pull you down into my bed and . . .and. . "

A vivid blush colored Anne's cheeks, but she didn't look away. Barbie saw the hurt look in her eyes before an artificial sneer appeared on lips barely a breath away from Barbie's own. "You'd have what, Blondie? Had your way with me?" she asked bitterly.

All the color fled from Barbie's face and she spun away, heading for the stern of the ship as fast as her heels would permit. Fortunately, Anne was not so hampered, having worn deck shoes in anticipation of the ferry ride. She caught Barbie before she'd reached the crowd and all but pushed her bodily into an athwartships passageway. "Hold it right there, Barbie!" she ordered.

Furious still, the tall blonde turned to face the shorter girl. "I never thought that you'd be such a. . . such a damned tease!" she hissed out.

"I'm NOT a tease!" Anne snapped back, her own temper flaring.

"No? Well, what do YOU call that . . . that little display you put on last night?"

"You idiot! It's only teasing if I didn't mean to follow through!"

"Follow through?"

Anne sighed, her anger melting away. "I had to screw my courage up for ten solid minutes in the bathroom before I could come out in that little bit of froth. I didn't know if you'd laugh, or, well, Hell, I don't even know what I WANTED you to do. Except the one thing you did! You ignored me! Do you think I throw myself at all the guys I meet, parading around like some cheap hooker? I was ready to offer you . . . whatever you wanted, and you didn't want . . . me!"

Anne burst into tears and started to turn away, to be caught by Barbie before she could make a single step. She heard what could only be Kenneth Roberts' voice sigh, "Aw shit!"

And then she was wrapped in a full body embrace while her mouth was being ravaged by an incredibly tender lipstick-flavored kiss.

For Barbie, it was a race to see which aspect of her nature would win out in this battle of confused sensibilities - her primitive need to lay physical claim to THE WOMAN right then and there, or her rational mind that said this was neither the time nor the place. At least, it wasn't while she was Barbie and Anne was Skipper, and in public, no less.

With one last shuddering effort of will, Barbie broke the embrace. Even then, however, she wasn't quite able to completely let go, holding Anne's hands in her own. "At some point, Margery, there'll come a time and a place where we'll alone when this happens," she said with a wicked smile, "And when that FINALLY comes to pass? then, WATCH OUT!"

The soft, sultry heat in Anne's eyes almost had Barbie deciding not to wait, but then she smiled back at the taller woman. "We'll have to wait and see, won't we?"

Hand-in-hand, the pair returned to their car as the boat approached the Burlington, Vermont dock. With a sigh, Barbie opened the door and slid into the passenger's seat before exploding, "DAMN!"

Surprised, Anne hurried around the car. "What? What's wrong?"

"I don't believe it," Barbie sighed. "I just don't believe it."

"What IS it?" Anne demanded.

Shaking her head, and then beginning to laugh, Barbie pulled one of Anne's hands to her right bosom. "One of my boobs just came loose," she hissed, and watched as Anne's face first went blank, and then dissolved into gut-deep laughter.

~-~

"Goodness, she's part fish," Jane murmured as she and Marie enjoyed a glass of iced mint tea. "She makes me tired just watching her."

"Trying to outrace the devils, you think?"

"Perhaps. Betty made a point of speaking with me on the phone today, after Darla picked Adrienne up at the shop. Seems our girl has a inferiority complex due to lack of stature."

The little brunette housekeeper snorted. "And that's a surprise? Jane, most of our girls have that to some extent or other. One of the things that makes them well suited to your program is that they are usually, shall we say, on the petite side? You could hardly take in one who is completely unsuited to la grande masquerade."

"True enough," Jane smiled. "Come to think of it, Audrey was the tallest student I've taught here and she was really a girl. Isn't that a strange one? However, back to Adrienne. I think the important part of this revelation is that SHE'S the one who reached that conclusion about herself. She even admitted that part of her resentment of Anne is because she's so much taller than Adrian."

"And how do we use this insight, eh?"

"I really don't know - not yet. I think I'm going to let it simmer in her brain for a while. She's certainly been quiet since she returned - more thoughtful, somehow." Jane watched her student execute a picture-perfect flip turn and sighed. "Adrienne!" she called out in her school-mistress voice. "I won't accept muscle stiffness as an excuse for poor performance in your lessons and deportment tomorrow. I think you've had enough for now."

The rapidly swimming figure slowed, and treading water with one hand, used the other to push wet, clingy strands of blond hair from her face. "Yes, Ms. Thompson. May I do a couple more slower laps as a cooldown, please?"

Jane waved her student on and sat back down. "She hasn't exercised like that since she arrived her months ago. Silly widgeon will hurt herself."

"And then Aunt Jane would feel guilty," Marie teased. "Being a bitch with a heart of gold is so difficult."

"Quiet, Marie!" Jane ordered, unable to refrain from grinning.

"Then YOU can be the one to help her get that mop properly cleaned and set tonight. God, look at her hair!"

"Hmmmm, yes. We wouldn't happen to have any old style bathing caps in storage? Something. . .wicked, you know, pure 1950's Donna Reed with a big yellow rubber daisy on the side?"

"And just when you thought it was safe to go back into the water," Marie murmured with a grin. "If we don't, I'll see what I can do about making one up."

 

 

Chapter 33: Night Dreams

Rooms had been easier to come by in Rutland, Vermont, than they had the night before in Lake Champlain. Barbie had managed to obtain two rooms at the Holiday Inn with interior interconnecting doors. She had unlocked hers, but that is as far as she'd go without encouragement. She'd unwittingly hurt Anne the other night, and she didn't want to do it again. They'd made a new start with their little confrontation - had hardly been able to stand not being in contact with each other the whole drive from Burlington to the hotel - and she really did not want to blow that by moving too fast.

But they hadn't talked - nary a word passing between them the entire drove south from Burlington, and not much more than that during their shared dinner at the hotel restaurant. One lesson well learned at the feet of both Jane Thompson and Judge Ruth is that talking, especially about problems, helped. It was something Barbie definitely wanted to do, too, because she had questions that she desperately wanted answered; questions only Barbara Anne Braithwaite could answer. At least three times since dinner, she'd walked up to that infernal door and raised her hand to knock, only to pull it back at the last second. It wasn't fair, she realized. Given Anne's revelations earlier on the ferry, she'd already been the one to make an overture - one that Barbie had, in ignorance, rebuffed. Still, some instinct told the tall blonde that the next move had to be Anne's, too. She just hoped the girl would move sooner rather than later.

She'd just finished her evening ablutions, and pulled on her robe when a soft, almost tentative knock sounded on the door to Anne's room. "It's not locked," Barbie called out, her heart suddenly pounding.

Slowly, the door opened and a blank-faced Anne, her tall frame swathed from neck to toe in a shapeless cotton grannie-gown, stepped in. "Hi," she said as the door closed behind her.

"Hi, yourself," Barbie replied, trying to smile, a smile that went unanswered as Anne simply stared at her companion. "What's the matter, Anne?" Barbie asked.

Sighing, the girl took a seat on the other side of the room. "I guess that's what I wanted to know. After this afternoon, with that. . .that kiss, and then the hand-holding, and then the rooms with a connecting door, I sort of thought, I mean, I figured you would expect. . oh, hell. . "

"I can guess what you thought. I was certainly thinking in that direction, too, when I got the rooms, that is. Trouble is, though, that I got worried you might think I was rushing you too fast, particularly after. . .after this afternoon. So I sort of decided to back off - to give you a little space."

"I see. I was getting mixed messages, you know? Like a street light that is turning its lights on and off at random in all directions. I don't know whether to stop or go just now."

Barbie winced. "I guess I've spent too much time with women. I'm trying too hard to second guess myself - to second guess what you're feeling. Look, just let me say this once and for all. I wanted. . WANT to be with you tonight. I just don't want it to be for any other reason than that's what YOU want just as much."

"Oh, but I do," she blurted, before visibly hesitating, ". . . want that. . to be with you, I mean, . . . "

"I hear a 'but' there, Skipper," Barbie said as gently as she could manage under the circumstances.

"It's not really a 'but' so much as. . . as. .," her voice trailed off and a fiery blush colored her face.

Tongue firmly and obviously planted in one cheek, Barbie strove to look innocent. "Maidenly anxiety? Virginal reflection? Cold feet?"

Anne's eyes went wide and for a moment her mouth went open and closed, as she tried to form a cogent response. Finally, she choked on a half laugh. "Bitch." and then began to giggle.

Barbie let the laughter cleanse the tension from her friend before answering. "Yeah, you're right. Good training from both my adoptive moms, I guess." Then her face softened. "Better now?"

Anne nodded, her face still bright with the relieved mirth of the moment.

"Good. . .then, can I ask a question? You don't have to answer, but I'd really like to know." The other girl nodded slowly. "Why were you so bloody cheerful this morning, if you felt, um, rejected over last night?"

Skipper blushed, and looked away. She curled her feet beneath her in the chair and for just a moment she looked like a little girl caught with her hand in a cookie jar. Her voice was light and soft, not quite whispering when she finally said, "I guess it's because I realized that I wasn't as, um, ready for, well, whatever would have happened last night as I thought."

Her head came up and she looked Barbie directly in the eyes. "I'd have, um, followed through, if you'd have . . . pushed - or pulled. I'm NOT a cruel tease. But part of me was grateful that we, um, didn't - do anything, that is. I guess I felt like I'd been given a reprieve."

Then Skipper blushed again, even brighter than before. She looked away, her eyes seeing memories instead of the scene before them, and this time her voice did drop to a faint whisper. "Though, after that kiss I'm not sure the, um, 'reprieve' was the better deal."

Barbie sat back and thoughtfully regarded the nervous blonde, then she grinned. "C'mere, cutie," she ordered, beckoning with one finely manicured nail.

For a moment, Anne looked uncertain. Barbie only smiled and beckoned again. Then, the granny-gowned girl seemed to square her shoulders before rising to her feet to stride across the motel bedroom to stand before Barbie. She yelped in surprise when she was suddenly swept off her feet into the taller girl's lap. . . and held - simply held. Barbie was gently cuddling her - almost as she might a child, except Anne wasn't a child.

Still, it felt good, and it felt right. With a sigh of contentment, Anne let herself relax in Barbie's arms.

And fell asleep.

For time unmeasured, Barbie simply sat there, savoring the feeling of holding Anne, breathing in the scent of her herbal shampoo on her still damp hair. So she was surprised when a glance at the bedside clock told her how late it was getting.

Her heart rebelled at waking Anne and losing the delicious peace of having her so close, and yet, if she tried to carry her to the bed, she might awaken anyway.

Carefully, barely moving so as not to jostle her precious burden, Barbie lifted her legs to prop them on the nearby bed, and then slouched down into the almost comfortable chair.

She carefully settled Anne against her body, trying to make them both as comfortable as possible. The lightly snoring woman didn't even murmur, and moments later, Barbie joined her in sleep.

~-~

Something was tickling her nose. Unwilling to wake up, she scrunched her eyes more tightly shut and batted at the irritant with her hand. The tickling stopped, but only momentarily, and then it was back. Determined not to lose the wonderful fuzzy warmth of near-sleep, she batted again.

And struck something hard.

Anne's eyes shot open, but took a moment or two to focus and adjust to the morning-lit room. When they did, she found herself practically eye-to-eye with a grinning Barbie - a grinning Barbie who had a lock of Anne's own hair wrapped around her index finger. Hair, that she had been using so. . . annoyingly on Anne's nose.

"I don't know about you, gorgeous, but as lovely as this feels, I really need to go the bathroom."

Full consciousness hit Anne, and with it, the realization that her bottom half was practically bare for the oh-so-modest granny-gown had hiked itself up all the way to her hips while she'd slept.

While she'd slept using Barbie as a warm-bodied mattress!

With a squeal, she jumped off the taller girl. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to, that is, I mean. . Oh blast! I am sorry."

"I'm sure as hell not," Barbie grinned, as she carefully untangled herself from the odd position in which she'd passed the night. "Except for a bit of a twinge in my back from that chair, I can't remember a night I enjoyed more."

"En-JOYED? But we didn't do anything but SLEEP!"

Barbie brushed a tender kiss on Anne's still wide-open mouth and headed toward the bathroom, "And just sleeping with you is the most intimate experience I've ever shared with a woman. Boggles the mind what it will be like when we finally make love, doesn't it?"

The bathroom door was already shut before Anne's befuddled mind cleared sufficiently to make heads or tails of what Barbie had said. Then it hit her. "WHEN we make love? WHEN?!?!" she demanded of the blank portal.

The door swung open, "When, darlin' - we're way past if," Barbie promised. "Better go get dressed. I'm hungry, aren't you?" and then reclosed the door.

~-~

Jane watched the three bathing-suited figures frolic in her pool - one blonde, one strawberry blonde, and one with the pure black hair of Asia. Jessica had been reluctant to participate, she thought with an indulgent grin. Apparently, even someone with Jesse's unusual knowledge and experience with the masquerade got a bit apprehensive about appearing only in a swimsuit.

Marie was supervising at the pool, and catering the teens' party at the same time. They were evidently having a very good time, despite Jessica and Adrienne having to keep their secret, and despite Xhinea's shyness.

"I want to thank you for what you and your students, especially Adrienne have done for my daughter, Jane."

Surprised, because in her reveries, Jane had all but forgotten the presence of the other woman. "Pardon me?"

Celia smiled at her new friend. "Xhinea has been terribly lonely since she came here - first because of her lack of English, and then because she's, well, not the most outgoing child. Adrienne has been very good for her. I'm glad she's finally made a friend."

Warning bells went off in Jane's head as she considered the full impact of the doctor's words. "I'm . . . glad, too," she finally managed to get out with some semblance of good feeling. *DAMN!*

~-~

As the BMW sped down the interstate toward New Haven, the two statuesque blondes retreated into their prior silence. It was more Skipper's choice than Barbie's. The taller blonde's lighthearted comments on casual topics had led nowhere, polite responses from her companion almost worse than no response at all. Finally, Barbie decided to take the issue head on, pushing to find out what was bothering Skipper.

"Penny for your thoughts," she offered hopefully.

"Hmmm? What?" Skipper replied, her attention wrenched back from a distance not measured by the car's odometer.

"Why the silent treatment?" Barbie asked. "I didn't offend you, did I?"

The shy look came into Skipper's eyes again, and she looked away to stare down the highway. Then she took a deep breath. "I guess it's because I don't know what to say. What I'm feeling - it's so big and so different from anything I've ever felt before. . . I just don't know what to say or do, and I don't want to mess it up!"

"Damn."

"DAMN?!?" Anne squeaked. "Why 'damn'?"

Barbie let out a pent up breath of frustration. "'Damn' because for the first time, I wish this damned car had bench front seats so I could slide across and cuddle up to you."

"Oh," Anne said weakly, and then added more strongly, "Oh." A shaky giggle escaped and she turned to glance at Barbie with a look that was at once shy and mischievous. "Well, I don't think that would be a good idea, Blondie. With that gear shift console there, you might just hurt something. . ummm, vital."

Instinctively, Barbie clamped her thighs together protectively, and then blushed furiously. "Uh, right. Oh look, only another fifty miles to New Haven. You'll like Tia Judith."

"Tia_ Judith?"

"Would you believe that her maiden name was Duarte?"

"And you call her 'Tia'? Isn't that Spanish for 'Aunt'?"

"Yep. Another one of Momma Ruth and Momma Jane's Sorority Sisters."

"Oh my."

~-~

Adrienne felt more than a bit of anxiety as she waited to be admitted to Jane Thompson's study. Her presence had been commanded during dinner, following cleanup. Some of her worst experiences had been in that room, usually following some failure on her part to follow the rules. She could only wonder what she'd done THIS time.

"Enter," was the firm, but not stern command.

With one final deep, cleansing breath, Adrienne Braithwaite opened the door and stepped inside to face whatever had to be faced, and in keeping with her promise, as cheerfully as possible.

 

 

Chapter 34: New Acquaintances, New Friends

Whatever images Anne had conceived of Barbie's 'Tia Judith', none of them came close to the reality of the woman.

Judith Duarte Cranston was a perfect pixie of a woman with the odd combination of auburn hair and olive skin that is unique to women of Hispanic heritage. Her shocking blue eyes smiled even when her lips didn't, which was in and of itself rare. And she wore the persona of madcap art dealer/entrepreneur with a panache Anne could not help but envy. How many women, she wondered, could wear a bright red gypsy headcloth combined with a floor-length gown of tie-dyed green, yellow and blue silk while wearing a pair of red ice-pick heels, and still look chic?

Barbie's Tia Judith was the first in Anne's experience.

The little college-town art shop was empty when they arrived, so Judith had come up to them with a smile of greeting. "Hello," she'd said in a smoky alto that had Anne thinking of 1940 film noire femme-fatales. "May I help you?"

"Sure can, Tia Judith," Kenneth's voice replied. "Tante Marie's birthday's coming up, and I need a special gift?"

The look on the older woman's face was priceless, Anne thought, absolutely priceless. *At least I'm not the only one Barbie/Kenneth/Kendra does that to,* she mused, oddly pleased with the thought.

"Oh, God, KENDRA!" the gypsy squealed and then threw herself into the tall blonde's arms. "It's so GOOD to see YOU again! I know how Kenneth has missed you, even if he didn't admit it."

Then it hit Anne. "You know!" she said in wonder. "You know about. . . Kendra."

Releasing her death-grip, but not letting go completely. "Of course. In fact, my nephew is one of Jane's graduates."

"How is Guillermo?" Barbie asked, her voice now back in 'girl' mode.

"Fine. He's still at seminary. He should complete his studies next spring. Then he'll have to decide whether he's going to actually take holy orders and be ordained."

"A PRIEST?!?" Anne demanded. "A Jane Thompson graduate is entering the priesthood?"

"That's the current plan," Judith replied. "We're all very proud of Georgie. Wait here." Judith went to the front door and locked it, putting up a 'Back Soon' sign in the window. "Come on back and have some tea. I can't wait to find out what's going on here. Oh, Tamara is going to be so upset she missed you, dear. She's at camp in New Hampshire this week. You'll stay the night?"

Dazed by the seemingly disconnected jumps in Judith's monologue, Anne could only follow, wondering what this incredible woman would say or do next.

~-~

Adrienne Braithwaite sat quietly in front of the satin-decorated vanity, brushing her hair almost mindlessly as her eyes stared at pictures beyond her mirror. The memories of the day's events played across the theater of her mind with stark clarity.

She'd had fun today - for the first time since she'd arrived in Jane Thompson's frilly prison. Only that wasn't quite true - today was the first time she'd had fun - real fun - in longer than she cared to remember. The so-called good times in recent years had all too often been at the expense of someone else. It wasn't having fun, she realized, so much as making fun - of someone who couldn't, or in the case of Anne, wouldn't defend themselves.

That wasn't fun - that was cruelty.

And that was why she was here, wasn't it? Adrian had run with a pack, safe within its numbers and had hurt people whose only crime was to be unable to defend themselves. It was a wonder that the Judge had given Adrian anything other than a one-way ticket to juvie.

Which made her current situation even more difficult. Just when she'd recognized how cruel Adrian had been, THIS had to happen.

"Oh, god, what am I going to do?" she asked the tear-stained face staring back at her from the mirror's silvery depths. "What AM I going to DO?!?!"

~-~

"How long have you known about Ms. Thompson's program, Ms. Cranston?" Anne asked as she waited for Barbie to bring in their bags.

"Please, call me Tia Judith, dear. Oh, I've known just about forever, I think. Jane and I were roommates as freshmen. When she found out what was going on at Eastmore, she had to tell someone, and since I lived close by, she called me."

"And you had no problem with your nephew. . . going to her? Knowing as you did what she does to those boys?"

"Dear, I know Jane and so of course I had no worries sending him there. In fact, I was the one who contacted Jane when Guillermo was in all that trouble - to see if she thought she could help. Poor Georgie," Judith reminisced, a fond smile on her attractive face, "I am afraid the poor dear did not make a very attractive girl - at least in the beginning because he was a bit, well, chubby, so the program was doubly tough on him. A side benefit of Jane's program is that he learned good eating habits and lost about fifty pounds in the bargain during the six months he spent with Jane and Marie."

"But you weren't worried that it might, well, change him?"

"That was the whole idea!"

"But he's decided to be a priest - giving up. .. " Anne blushed as she realized what she almost said.

Judith laughed merrily. "You mean sex, dear? Put him off women? Make the vow of chastity all the easier for him to escape our evil clutches?"

There was a wicked twinkle in those startling blue eyes that made Anne relax somehow. "Well, yes, wouldn't he? Didn't he?"

"Oh, lord no! In all honesty, dear, I don't think he'll take final vows because he likes women too much. In fact, with what he learned at Jane's, he became quite, um, popular with the ladies. I mean, wouldn't you like a guy who *really* knew what a woman liked and disliked, how much time it took to get ready to go somewhere, who could choose presents for you that were stylish instead of sluttish?"

That wicked grin flashed again, and Anne felt herself blushing again. What WAS it about these Jane Thompson friends that made her color up like an over-ripe tomato at the drop of a comment?

"Oops, silly me," Judith laughed gaily. "Of course you do, don't you? Anyway, back to Georgie - it's just possible he was considering becoming a priest because he felt he needed a little . . . extra incentive to keep his zipper up, if you know what I mean. I don't think that's a good enough reason to be a priest, of course, and if he decides that's really his motivation, he won't either. But in the end, that doesn't matter. We'll love him anyway. And he'll find another way to help people. That's just too important to him. If he does, it will be because he has a tremendous need to . . . to help and because, well, he wants to be a model of what is good in the priesthood."

"You're so proud of him, and that's wonderful."

"Thanks in large part to Jane, Anne. This is really about your brother, isn't it? You're afraid his sexuality will be adversely affected by the discipline she enforces on her students. Well, you can put that out of your mind right now. Jane would cut her own throat before she did anything to harm a child. ANY child."

"You sound so certain of that," Anne said.

Just then, Barbie walked through the doors, cases in hand. "Usual room, Tia?"

"Yes, dear," the tiny redhead beamed. "And put Anne's things in Tamara's room, please." Judith then paused, obviously waiting for the tall blonde disappear up the stairs. "There's your answer, child," she continued. "As the French might say, 'Cherchez la feminized' or something like that. Jane knew something was wrong with Kenneth's case in the first two days, and she stopped what she was doing, even though every piece of documented evidence indicated he was a hard case bad kid. Rather than make a mistake, she stopped. If she's still working with your brother, then trust me, she's helping him."

When the blonde did not reply, only stared off reflectively, the petite Latina kissed her on the cheek. "Everything will work out, dear. Now, c'mon. You can help with dinner. I'm fixing paella for Barbie. She needs a break from Marie's French cuisine."

~-~

Jessica watched her little sister carefully, her brow furrowing in concentration. Something didn't quite fit. There was something . . . odd about the way Adrienne had been behaving ever since breakfast. Oh, she'd done her exercises without complaint, cleaned up both breakfast and lunch dishes with a smile on her face, for goodness sake - she'd even thanked Aunt Jane for the critique of her outfit and make-up.

Yes, indeed, something was wrong here. She'd spoken with Tante Marie about it after breakfast, and the little housekeeper had assured her that students going through 'the crisis' sometimes behaved a little strangely until they worked things out. They just bore a little extra watching is all.

Which Jessica had done, and she was more convinced something was wrong. Problem was, if Jane and Marie didn't see it, why didn't they see it? Maybe she should try to sound Adrienne out a bit. Maybe she'd talk to her 'big sister' about something she wouldn't talk to the two older women.

 

 

 

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