Tales of the Season - Ken's Barbie

by Tigger
Copyright 2002

 

Chapter 35: Night Moods

She was SO tired, and yet sleep would not come. The glowing alarm digital clock had malevolently shown 2:45 A.M. when Adrienne had finally given up and turned on the feminine Tiffany lamp on her night table. Her desk, and the paper that rested there had drawn her in spite of her best efforts to resist.

She reread the twenty five hundred word essay, even though the text was familiar. With a sigh, she went back to her bed and for the first time since she'd been transformed, cuddled up to the large stuffed bear Marie insisted belonged there as much as Adrienne did. In the little halo of colored light thrown by the small lamp, her mind drifted back to what she thought of as the 'good old days', when Adrian's parents were still alive. Adrian had never, not even for a moment, needed to worry about whether his parents had wanted him - about whether he was loved and valued. Then, in a moment of rare self-honesty, she admitted that Barbara Anne had never given her cause to doubt her care and love either. Maybe that was why Adrian had felt safe in lashing out at her - he knew she'd never leave him, never give up on him.

Which made Adrian pretty much a louse, didn't it?

When she thought of what Adrian had, and not valued, and compared that to what Xhinea, and so many other girls like her in her homeland, DIDN'T have, it made her feel very ashamed. That girl had overcome so much - a new country, a new language, but at the same time, it was clear that she was lonely here. She'd seemed surprised when Adrienne had preferred spending time with her over Jessica.

God, but she was cute in that golden swimsuit at the swim party the day before. Definitely 'ask-to-go-out' cute, and yet, Xhinea was a friend, too. Somehow, in a way that Adrian had never considered about a pretty girl, that was more important.

Talking to Jessica hadn't helped. Maybe because Adrienne hadn't been willing to open up to her. After all, Jessica called Ms. Jane 'AUNT Jane' and Adrienne had never been too sure of that one's protestations of friendship. After all, hadn't she been the one who stuck Adrian with the name Adrienne?

God, but she wished she knew where to turn - who to trust. Class was tomorrow. . no, today - this afternoon, in fact, and she still had no idea what to do.

She rolled her head over to look at the alarm clock. 3:22 AM. No wonder she was exhausted, and Ms. Jane would expect her at the breakfast table precisely at 7:45 AM - bright eyed and appropriately made up.

Thinking of Ms. Jane reminded the boy-girl yet again of their little discussion after the pool-party. Grimly fighting against the loneliness those thoughts evoked, she ruthlessly pounded her pillow and flicked off the light.

And closed her eyes tightly against the tears that burned their way down her cheeks.

~-~

The Westminster chime of the Grandfather clock in the main hall rang four bells. Giving up on sleeping, the tall blonde turned on the bedside light and got to her feet. With fatigue weighing heavily upon her, she strolled over to the vanity where she sat down, her eyes fixed on the reflection of herself.

She'd been hoping that Anne would find her way to this room after Tia Judith had retired for the night, but evidently she'd decided to stay in her own room. Probably didn't want to impose on Tia's hospitality that way knowing the very polite Anne.

Lord, but she hoped that was the reason. In one night, Barbie had become rather addicted to having that long, shapely body cuddled up to her own as they slept.

She, no, check that, HE wanted to sleep that way for the rest of their lives. "You're in love with her, Roberts," the femininely attired young man admitted aloud to the mirror's reflection. "Now, what the hell are you going to do about it?"

Well, that was certainly a no-brainer. He wanted to marry her! Tomorrow wouldn't be too soon, would it? The laugh that answered that question was both self-deprecating and sardonic. The answer Momma Jane would give that question didn't bear thinking about. He didn't think she could still order him into Raggedy Annie outfits, but he didn't want to test that theory, either.

No, their wedding WHEN, not if, it happened would take even the very formidable Jane Thompson and Tante Marie several weeks to plan - at the very least. Probably several months, Ken/Barbie thought glumly.

"Aren't we putting the horse before the marriage-carriage here, young Jedi?" he asked the mirror. A woman like Anne deserved a wedding like that - something she could remember with joy her entire life - the only one she'd have her entire life because Kenneth Roberts intended to be the ONLY man she'd ever call 'husband'. Well, that meant an Aunt Jane extravaganza - once she agreed to marry him, that was.

And shouldn't the proposal be just as memorable? Kenneth's brothers, although both had finally won the women of their dreams, had not done the proposal thing as well as they might have wished. Michael had gotten Janice to do the proposing, which knowing Janice had probably been the best thing to do. And Audrey had basically ordered Darryl to propose. Well, that wasn't going to happen this time - THIS one of Jane's boys was going to do the proposal thing right.

"I need a plan!" he said, racing for Barbie's luggage where the current volume of the daily journal Kenneth Roberts had kept since childhood was packed.

"Let's see. Romance, gotta be romantic," he said aloud as he returned to the vanity and began to write. "Dinner - very swanky. Have Jane take her shopping - Marie, too. Dream dress, lingerie, everything - for HER, not ME! Ken Roberts does his proposing in a tux with all the trimmings! Hmmmm. Have to ask Caro and Sandy to do a makeover for her. Flowers and candy -can't have a romance without flowers and candy. Petunias and orchids, I think. Midwest cute with exotic sexiness. Dancing. . . there has to be dancing. Wonder what her favorite love song is? Note to self - find out and have the band play it so I can go down on bended knee on the dance floor to offer her the ring. OMIGOD, I've got to get a RING? DAMN! What kind of stone?!? A diamond? Too cold for her. She needs something with heat to match what she tries to hide. I think maybe a colored stone. . . . an emerald, maybe. Note to self - ask Tante Marie - she's the romantic expert in the family."

The tall blonde filled whole pages of the journal making notes and plans until well after the sun had crept above the eastern horizon, but by the time Kenneth Roberts crawled back into bed, he was sure he now had the perfect plan for Operation Marry Skipper.

 

 

Chapter 36: The Best Laid Schemes

"You're still upset." Jessica said to Adrienne, as she helped the junior student set the table for breakfast. "You're sure you won't talk to me about whatever it is?"

"I told you it's nothing!" Adrienne snapped, and then closed her eyes at least partly in shame. "Sorry - I didn't sleep well. I shouldn't have snapped at you."

"If it's costing you sleep, it's more than nothing," the strawberry-curled teen offered gently. "It might help to talk about it."

Fatigue-fired anger started to flicker inside Adrienne's breast, but this time she tamped it back. "I don't think so, but thank you, Jessica," she said with stiff formality.

"You're afraid I'll go to Jane with it before you've worked out whatever it is that's bothering you." It wasn't a question.

"You are part of this, Jessica," the junior student said flatly. "How much, I don't know, but it's become clear to me that you've been involved on several of the setups Ms. Jane has pulled on me."

She could have refuted that charge, Jessica thought, but that would have simply supported Adrienne's unstated assumption that she could not trust the older girl with her secrets. What to do, she wondered. If she went to Jane and simply said 'Adrienne is having real problems' and Jane reacted, wouldn't the girl decide that, too, justified her opinion? "You need to talk to someone."

"Who?" Adrienne asked. "I won't go to anyone in this house or in town, and who else could I talk to who would understand . . . understand. . "

"That you're really Adrian under that nightgown, peignoir and makeup?" Jessica finished.

"Right. Someone who wouldn't think less of me, for having let her do this to me, and might still help me. . . figure this out."

Jessica thought for a moment, trying to figure out who the child could ask. "How about your sister?"

"She won't talk to me."

"She will if Aunt Jane tells her it's okay."

Hope sparked in the weary eyes, but only for a second. "Ms. Jane will listen in, and until I know in my heart what the right answer is, I don't want her involved."

"Are you planning on escaping, or trying to hurt anyone here?"

"OF COURSE NOT!" the answer was firm, the tone utterly outraged.

Perfect, Jessica thought. "I'll talk to Aunt Jane for you. If you like, I'll take you to the convenience store down the road and you can call from there. That way Jane can't listen in. Your sister might still talk to her about it, though," she added in bit of honesty.

"I'll only do it if Annie promises not to talk to Ms. Thompson before I give her the go ahead. Tell your Aunt that, so she'll know before she agrees. I'm not trying to play unfair here, Jessica, but this is something I need to work out without Ms. Jane telling me what to do."

"Fair enough. Look, you finish setting the table and I'll go find Aunt Jane, okay?"

"Okay, and Jessica? Thanks."

~-~

"Anne?" Judith called, even as she gently shook the tall girl's shoulder to help her wake up.

"Mmmm hmmm?"

"Wake up, Anne," Judith ordered.

"Wha. . .Tia Judith? What is it?"

"You have a phone call - Jane needs to speak with you.

~-~

Jessica watched her little sister approach the outdoor phone cubicle, Jane's phone card clutched in her hand - almost like a weapon. *Well,* she thought, *if I am wrong about this, then it might very well have much the same effect for Jane's program. I almost can't believe Aunt Jane bought into this wild hair of mine.*

In fact, it had taken some heavy duty . . . debate to get Jane to agree to this, but in the end, it was her own conviction that Adrienne was about to turn the corner that convinced her to go along with Jessica's plan.

Now, all Jessica could do was hope she wasn't badly wrong about this plan.

~-~

Adrienne stifled the urge to yawn as she picked out the phone number Jane had given her and then entered the phone card data.

"Hello?" a cautious feminine voice answered.

"Annie?" Adrienne asked. "It's me. . Adrienne. . I mean, Adrian, oh, hell, I don't even know myself anymore."

"Jane told me you would call, and that you would be using a public phone," Anne said, her voice warming just a bit. "Why don't you use Adrienne, so that you don't draw attention to yourself."

"O. . .okay. Anne? I need some advice. I have a problem, and I don't know what to do, okay?"

Actually, that wasn't quite true, either. As she'd concluded during her long sleepless night, there were solutions available to her that would effectively solve her problem - at least two of them, in fact. The real problem with which she was struggling was that either solution had the potential to hurt someone. She just didn't know who would get hurt worse, or whether that mattered in the long run. She wondered if this was what Ms. Jane would call an ethical dilemma.

"Annie? May. .. May I ask you a question? . .. .Please? It's sort of personal."

"Sure," Anne said before adding quickly, "but if it's too personal, the answer might be just that."

"It's not that kind of question!" the boy-girl spluttered in surprise.

Anne couldn't help it and laughed gently at her sibling's outrage. "That's okay, then. What's the question?"

"Umm, it's kind of hard, but have you ever had to make a decision, where if you make it one way, you're sure of what will happen - at least you think you are. It will be, well, pretty uncomfortable for you. On the other hand, if you go the other way, it won't hurt you at all, but might bother someone else - how badly, you don't know."

The voice at the other end of the phone connection didn't answer immediately, and Adrienne found herself sincerely wishing she could see her sister, could see if that normally smooth brow furrowed for just a moment, or if her lips curled into a bit of a grimace. "That's a very broad question, um, Adrienne, and as you said, quite personal."

~-~

Anne thought about the decision she'd made when her parents died to take on her brother at the cost of finishing her own college education, or the ones she'd recently been confronted with - to leave her brother in the hands of Ms. Thompson, or the one she'd made to accompany Kenneth, as Barbie, to his Mother's funeral. Both had hidden costs and potential hurts involved, to herself and to others. Oh yes, she thought, she knew about Catch 22 situations, but they weren't the type of situation she wanted to discuss with the brother who was still rigged out as a girl because of those decisions.

"Yes," Anne sighed into the phone. "I did, but I won't discuss them with you just now."

~-~

"Oh, that's not what I meant. What I was hoping you might tell me is, well, what things you considered when you made the decision you made. You probably would have thought of things. . .well, types of things I haven't."

"I don't suppose you'll tell me the problem," Anne asked cautiously.

"It's something Ms. Jane has given me to . . .to think about, and . . and. . Look, Annie, you know why I was sent to Ms. Thompson, right?"

"Of course I do," she replied. "What has that to do with this conversation?"

Adrienne wondered at the touch of sharp asperity in her sister's voice - it was a tone she hadn't heard very often from the soft-hearted Barbara Anne. She wondered what had caused that? "Look, Sis, we both know that I don't have a whole lot of experience thinking about someone other than myself. Left on my own, I'll probably miss something important."

*Damn!* Anne thought. *I WISH I knew more about what was going on behind the scenes at Seasons House just now, and yet, would that make a difference to me? Would my answers to her change?* The tall blonde thought about that for all of maybe two seconds and shook her head. *Whatever else, my brother deserves my best shot and complete honesty. When in doubt, Braithwaite, tell the truth. It may not help, but it will be better than the alternative.*

~-~

"I can only tell you that, besides the obvious, there were two things I had to consider that ultimately made the decision for me," her older sister finally said.

"Yes, Sis?" Adrienne asked eagerly.

"First, I asked myself if what would happen to me was really as bad as I thought it was. In other words, was I making the potential risk to myself seem larger in my mind that it would be in fact."

Adrienne frowned as she considered that and tried to put it in the context of her current situation. Her fatigue-dulled brain rebelled so she filed it for future consideration and returned her full attention to the phone. Perhaps her second point would be easier to apply, and would make struggling with the first point unnecessary. "And the other thing, Anne?"

"I asked myself how bad it would be FOR me if the potentially bad thing happened to the other person." The phone line went momentarily silent and Anne wondered if the connection had been lost. "I cared . . . cared a great deal for that person, Adri . . ah, Adrienne. Had yo . . had that person been hurt, it would have hurt me just as badly, if not more so."

Adrienne had never thought of such a thing, and it frightened her to think that, regardless of what she did, she could be hurt.

They both lapsed into silence for several moments, both siblings lost in their own thoughts. Finally, Adrienne had to ask. "Annie? Please, how did you decide?"

For another space of time, nothing passed between them across the distance. Finally, a long, drawn-out sigh signaled her sister's decision to answer. "I elected to take the heat myself," she said in what Adrienne thought was a very odd turn of phrase from Annie. "Hurting that other person carried too high a price. In trying to protect myself, I'd have only hurt both of us more in the long run."

"Oh."

~-~

Anne stared at the buzzing phone set for several moments before slowing returning it to the cradle. She was suddenly terrified she might have done the wrong thing. How would her . . . sister-brother react to that discussion? She should have insisted on knowing the problem, but she didn't, and now, she didn't know what to do. Who could she talk to?

And then, the answer was there. Thought became deed as she strode swiftly from the room and practically ran up the stairs to the guest room.

She didn't even bother to knock. She simply opened the door and entered. "Barbie?" she called to the blanket covered lump curled in the center of the large bed. "I need to talk to Kenneth - NOW!"

Fortunately, Barbie/Kenneth Roberts was, as she already knew, one of those disgusting people who woke up instantly, fully alert. She could almost hate him for that - almost, but not now.

~-~

Jane's antennae were quivering - every instinct developed over thirty years of working with over one hundred troubled boys told her this one was teetering on the edge of the transition. Because of that knowledge, she'd almost refused permission for Adrienne to speak with her sister. In the end, it had seemed she was damned if she did and damned if she didn't. She really wished she knew what was going on inside the bleached blond head, but this was the moment at which she could least anticipate what her student was thinking or what she might do. *Which is precisely why it's a crisis,* she reminded herself. She'd decided to allow the contact because, at some point, she had to trust her instincts and they all told her this child was ready to make her, or rather his own good decisions.

That did not, however, mean that the ultimate control freak of Seasons House could completely let go. Jane now wished that she had called Darla and told her that she'd accompany Adrienne to mime class that afternoon. *Those instincts, again,* she thought, laughing wryly at herself. *I should be there this time. Just wish I knew why.*

Just then, her private line rang. Picking it up, she was surprised when the voice on the other end was Kenneth's tenor. "Hi, Momma Jane. Anne needs to talk to you."

~-~

"So, that's what happened. What do we do now?"

Kenneth sat on the bed, outwardly still Barbie, but acting and speaking like himself now because Anne had requested that. "Have you spoken with Jane since you talked with your sister . . I mean, your brother?"

Anne choked back a half laugh, half sob. "I could hardly keep it straight either. He called himself by his male name, but the voice and intonation were feminine throughout. To answer your question, though, no. I guess I should have."

Kenneth reached for the bedside phone and slipped the receiver beneath Barbie's blond curls while he punched in a number from memory. Anne watched him listen for a few moments and then heard his voice say, "Hi, Momma Jane. Anne needs to talk to you."

He handed the receiver to her. "Tell her what you told me. I'll tell Tia Judith we need a quick breakfast before we head out. Tell Jane we can be in Kingston by about two pm this afternoon."

"Ms. Thompson? I. . . I wanted to tell you about the call from Adrian. . I mean, Adrienne."

 

 

Chapter 37: Breakthrough

After the mime tea-party skits, Adrienne foolishly let herself get trapped by 'I'm gonna be head cheerleader someday' Lori Hathaway and her clique of curvy chicklets.

"Hey, Adrienne, what was all that bit about using two hands on everything? Were you trying to say the teapot was heavy or something?"

"It was a formal oriental tea-ceremony, Lori," explained Adrienne. "Cradling the teacup in both hands, and offering it gracefully with your whole attention, is supposed to imply you are offering yourself as well - as a gesture of commitment and friendship."

Lori's partner, Naomi Rand, said, "Yeah, that's what it looked like all right. If 'Skinny Shinny' had held your hand for about two more seconds when you offered her 'yourself', I was gonna call the cops on you perv's."

Her giggle triggered the clique into smoochy air kisses with each other, but at least it provided a distraction from Adrienne's more-than-reasonable embarrassment at the taunt. She was also saved from having to defend herself by the arrival of her own partner, Xhinea, carrying cups of punch for herself and Adrienne.

Seeing Xhinea offer a cup to Adrienne triggered another round of giggles, stifled by Lori as she slowly and carefully, as though speaking to a small child, said "So, um, Shin . ., uh, Zinnia, um, how do you, like, um, like America?"

"I've been here for five years," Xhinea replied evenly, "And I like it very well, thank you. And my name is Xhinea, not Zinnia. Zinnias are flowers. Excuse me for interrupting."

Horrified and furious, Adrienne watched her friend stride away, her back very straight and very stiff. "That was really dumb, Lori," she fumed and then ran after Xhinea.

She caught up with her just as the dark-haired girl was slipping into the ladies restroom. Before Xhinea could close and lock the door, Adrienne was in there with her. "Leave me alone!" the little Asian ordered, her voice now choked with tears.

"I can't do that," Adrienne said, feeling her own tears start. "You're my friend, and you're hurting." With that declaration, Xhinea found herself being hugged. Surprised, she resisted, but only for a moment, and then returned the embrace.

"I'm sorry that happened," Adrienne said, when they finally relaxed their mutual deathgrip on each other.

With a deep breath, Xhinea forced a smile. "I should be used to that by now. Either they ignore me, or they go out of their way to be 'nice' to the ignorant little foreigner. Usually, I don't let it bother me, but after having someone treat me like . . a friend, it was just too much."

"Better now?"

"Yes. You reminded me that you truly are my friend - when you wouldn't let me hide away and cry alone. You have no idea what that means to me. You're really sweet, Adrienne. Special."

Adrienne felt a freezing chill slide down her spine, and then her own tears returned. "You wouldn't feel that way if you knew the real story. I'm. . .I'm not a very nice person, Xhinea."

To Adrienne's utter shock, the girl laughed.

"No," she reiterated, "it's true. In fact, the only reason I'm here right now? It's because the alternative was jail."

"Why," Xhinea asked, her eyes widening in surprise.

Adrienne paused, then took a deep breath and said, "I just got in a lot of trouble. Little things, maybe, but a whole lot of them. Shoplifting, some vandalism, bullying other kids - generally running around with a bad crowd and doing what they did to be accepted. One of the guys in my group had some marijuana with him, the last time we got picked up, and . . . I ended up here."

Xhinea's eyes momentarily went wide and then narrowed speculatively. "So what?" she retorted. "You're not that way anymore, are you?" Before the blonde could even shake her head, the dark-haired girl asked, "Will you go back to being what you WERE before? What you were that led to you being here? I think not."

"But. . ."

"But, but, but, but, but. . .Adrienne, you sound like a cartoon motor boat. All I know is that since I've come here, I've been too different for any of the other girls to bother with. Do you know, I've NEVER had a girlfriend before in my life? I'm not about to get rid of the only one I've got."

"A girlfriend?" the petite blonde nearly gawked, then all of the sudden she remembered she had her arms around a beautiful girl with dramatically accented lips, so close, so full . . .

That focus was shattered when the Asian girl slumped back. "Well, unless you don't want to be my friend?" Xhinea's voice faltered and nearly broke again.

"Oh, yeah, sure," Adrienne hastened to reassure, "but I guess I hadn't really ever thought of you as, um, 'a girlfriend.', umm, before you just said it, that is."

Xhinea grinned, mischief dancing her dark eyes. "Hellooo, what else am I going to be? Your boyfriend? Do I look like a boy to you after Miss Wave-Them-Around and her friends in there?"

"No way," she squeaked. "*You* don't look like a boy. My goodness, Xhinea, don't you know you're beautiful?!?! But . . ."

"But what?"

"God, I don't know how to deal with this."

"Something's bothering you. You helped me, let me help you."

"What's bothering me is how unfair this all is - especially to you!" Adrienne snapped out. Here it was, she realized. The problem Jane had discussed with her, warned her about - the one she had done nothing about. So now, she was going to hurt or be hurt.

"I don't think so," was the soft reply. A gentle hand reached out to stroke a wayward lock from Adrienne's eyes. "You're my friend, Adrienne. We'll work it out."

 

"But that's JUST IT!" Adrienne cried, her own voice too loud now. "Look, I told you that I'm here on a sort of . . . probation or alternative to being in jail. Well, one of these days I'm going to be released and I'll go back to . . . where I was before."

Suddenly still, Xhinea stared at her friend. "Does that mean you cannot ever come back? Call me? Write to me? Explain this to me! Just because you are free of this school, you will just disappear from my life? Just like that?"

The hurt was back in Xhinea's eyes and voice, and Adrienne just couldn't stand it. In that moment, she understood what Annie had meant when she'd said that the pain from hurting someone important was the worst of all. In that moment, she, like her sister, elected to take the heat herself. "I have been, am now, and will keep on being your friend, Xhinea, if you want me for one," she choked out, struggling to control the tears that again threatened. "But . . . I can't be your . . . GIRL-friend."

For the first time in her life, Xhinea understood the linguistic necessity for that odd three-letter word so many of the students in her school used so very often. "Huh?"

With another deep breath, Adrienne regained some measure of composure and forced herself to smile. "Ummm, it might be easier if I try to tell it like it was about somebody else? You know, kind of like telling you a story, okay?"

More confused than ever, Xhinea returned to the commode and sat down, but her eyes never left Adrienne's. "Okay."

"Once upon a time, there was a boy whose name was, umm, Adrian. For the first thirteen years of his life, he was a pretty happy kid - oh, he was kind of short and a lot scrawny for a boy, but all in all, his life was pretty good because he was loved and knew it. Then came the day a drunk driver crashed into his parents' car. . . "

~-~

"YOU'RE a BOYYYY?!?!?" Xhinea squealed.

"QUIET!" Adrienne hissed, looking nervously at the bathroom door and hoping the outer hall was empty.

"NO WAY!"

~-~

"And so, when you. . .I guess, graduate? You put away your dresses and curls, and leave forever?

Now it was Adrienne who sat shaken and spent on the commode seat. "No, I wouldn't - COULDN'T do that to you. Or to me. You're my friend, and trust me on this, I don't have any more friends than you do. In all honesty, though, going away is what Ms. Thompson wanted - what she expects of me. Something about the more people who know a secret the less likely it is to stay one, and this one needs to stay secret."

"America, like China, puts great importance on being and acting male," Xhinea observed, "So I understand the need for secrecy. I will keep yours. Friends do that for each other."

Adrienne laughed weakly. "Thanks."

"What is the name of my girlfriend, when she isn't being a girl? Is it really Adrian?"

The blonde nodded sheepishly.

"Well, then I am doubly fortunate in having you for my friend," she said, the hint of mischief back in her eyes.

"Oh? How so?"

"I told you I've never had a girl friend, right? Well I've never had a boy friend, either. Now I have both."

The blond teen's smile grew broader. "I'd like that, too. It might take some doing, though. First, there's my sister. I have some work ahead of me to get to where she trusts me, and she'd have to trust me if I'm going to come back here from time to time to be with you."

"You will win her over," Xhinea said. "As I said, you are a very nice person. You said your sister was first. Does that imply a second?"

"Your Mom."

"Momma likes you," Xhinea answered quickly and then stopped, her eyes going wide. "Oh, my."

"As Ms. Thompson would say, 'just so'. Your Mom likes Adrienne. She doesn't know I'm a boy and she also doesn't know the trouble I was in to get sent here. She might not care for you to associate with me, even if my . . . unusual clothes don't bother her. I'm not really good boyfriend material from a Mother's viewpoint."

"I think my Mother will be fine," Xhinea defended. "Eventually. Maybe if your Ms. Jane spoke to her?"

Adrienne considered that. "Maybe, but I think I need to be a man about this and tell her the truth first. After that, well, we'll have to see, won't we?"

"But we're still friends, right? And no matter what, we stay that way?"

"You bet. Come on, let's get out of here. Ms. Smith will be looking for me and I don't want her any more annoyed with me than she already is."

But it wasn't Darla who awaited them in the main entrance. It was "Ms. Jane? What are you doing here?"

 

 

Chapter 38: Gang Aft Agley

Silence, Anne decided as they passed through Bridgeport on their way to Kingston, was all well and good, but it made it too easy to brood. Since there wasn't anything she could do until they arrived at Jane Thompson's house, the brooding didn't help. Unfortunately, her companion wasn't doing much in the way of talking, either. Well, she wanted distraction and entertainment just then, and decided that her would-be lover was nominated. *Start as you mean to go,* she told herself.

"You're awfully quiet," she observed and nearly winced at the inanity of the comment.

Startled, Barbie jolted at the sudden intrusion of sound eliciting a giggle from Anne. Smiling also, the tall blonde asked "And just who are you laughing at, my good woman?"

"Gotcha. Now, answer my question - why are you so quiet?"

Knowing better than to admit to being immersed in a lovely little fantasy in which Anne, Kenneth, an expensive bottle of champagne and a large sapphire engagement ring played prominent roles, Barbie tried a little Thompsonian strategy. "You were quiet," she answered without answering and then shifted subjects, "Worried about Adrian?"

Sighing, Anne nodded. "I'd feel better if your Ms. Thompson had prepared me better for that phone call. After talking to her again, I'm worried I said the wrong things."

"Did you tell the truth?"

"Well, yes, but what if that wasn't the right thing to do?"

Barbie considered that and shrugged.

"Jane didn't tell you what to expect or what to say when she called the first time, right?" Barbie already knew the answer, but allowed Anne to nod before continuing. "Okay, here's a hard truth about my beloved Momma-Jane. She never lies, or asks others to lie - at least by her definition."

"By HER definition? What does that mean?"

Anne heard her friend laugh. "My Momma-Jane has a very lawyerly attitude and outlook on the subject of the truth. In other words, it's only a lie if it is complete falsehood. She does, however, use the time honored strategies of misleading by how she tells the truth, when she tells the truth or by how much of the truth she tells. Winston Spencer Churchill could have taken lessons from Jane Thompson on the creative use of truth in deception."

"So?"

"So, if she didn't tell you what to say to Adrian, or suggest how you might talk to him, then she wanted you to answer his questions as honestly as you could."

"You're sure about that?"

"Mom is never subtle about giving direction where, in her view, direction is needed."

"I see," Anne said, her mind churning to make sense of all that Barbie had just told her, and what Jane Thompson had and had not said in their two phone conversations. Which was why she caught on that "Do you realize you just referred to my brother in the masculine tense again?"

Barbie nodded. "Yeah, guess I did. Probably because if Jane is allowing, even encouraging you to talk to him, without her telling you more than she did, it's because she thinks he's turned the corner."

"So quickly?"

"According to Darryl, when it happens? It's sudden."

"Oh, I hope so. Now, answer my question."

"Pardon me?"

"Don't think I missed that slick-attorney maneuver of changing the subject to one I'd be likely to talk about. What were YOU brooding about before?"

"I wasn't brooding."

"Oh, yes you were, tall-stuff. Trust me, I know brooding when I see it. You WERE brooding. What about?"

~-~

Damn, Barbie/Kenneth thought as she/he stared at the lovely blonde in the BMW's driver's seat, but she was so beautiful when she grinned like that. Almost like a little girl caught playing a mischievous trick on the boy next door. Kenneth would give anything to have her grin at him like that again - at least once a day for the rest of their lives.

"Ummm, us," he answered. "I was thinking about us."

~-~

Anne felt her breath catch in her throat, but managed what she hoped was a flirtatious smile. "That sounds interesting," she replied, and cursed silently when her voice cracked. "Care to share a little more detail?"

Out of the corner of her eye, she watched a vivid red hue suffuse the femininely made up face that had nothing to do with cosmetics. *More interesting by the second,* she thought.

 

~-~

*No, I don't!* Kenneth's mind yelled, but he knew that wasn't going to cut it. "Um, I was thinking about a. . a. . well, a date."

"A date?" Anne asked, her voice suddenly cautious.

"Yeah, a date. You know, dinner, dancing, you and me. That kind of thing."

That mischievous glint flashed in Anne's eyes again. "Oh, are there alternative nightspots near Kingston? I don't think two six-foot tall-plus, blonde Barbie-wannabes on a date would sit too well with the nice people there. Besides, your 'Momma-Jane' might not like having you draw attention to yourself like that."

~-~

Anne could literally hear his teeth grinding. "I meant," Kenneth said very slowly, "You and Kenneth - on the date - not you and Barbie."

"Oh," she replied, struggling to control her mirth, and failing. She hooted with laughter, glanced over at the stony glare she was getting from the no-longer-so-feminine-looking blonde seated next to her, and laughed even harder. "Oh, god," she giggled, "the LOOK on your FACE!!"

~-~

Kenneth literally felt his blood pressure rise. He didn't get angry. He didn't LET himself become angry. A person ceased to be in control of situations, and he NEEDED to be in control. Striving to squelch the emotional firestorm building in his gut, Kenneth glowered at Anne with stony dignity. "I fail to see what is so funny."

Which only made Anne laugh harder. So much harder, in fact, that she pulled off the road and came to a stop. "You FAIL to see what is SO funny?!" she parroted, stoking the fires yet again. "You call THAT asking for a DATE?!? I wish I had a recorder so I could listen to this routine again when I need a pick-me-up!"

However that last comment had been intended, it was the camel-that-broke-the-straw. It snapped, and so did Kenneth's temper. "Funny, is it?" he roared. "You think asking you to go out with me on a DATE is FUNNY?!? Well, then you'll probably die LAUGHING when I ask you to MARRY me!"

~-~

Anne's laughter stopped like someone had thrown a switch. Suddenly, there was no air in her lungs and no way to get any into them. "Marry?" she squeaked, her eyes wide. "You want to marry me?"

"Hell, woman!" the now-very-masculine Barbie growled. "If you could manage to stop laughing long enough to take a hard look, you'd see I'm head over heels in LOVE with you! Of COURSE I want to marry you!"

~-~

Kenneth felt himself go icy-cold as what he'd just done sank in. No woman wanted to have intentions of marriage bellowed at them. It wasn't romantic or sensitive. Jane was going to KILL him.

"When did you decide that?" Anne asked, now very solemn.

Kenneth slumped back in the bucket seats leather cushions and closed his eyes. "Probably since the moment you walked into that hotel-room office the first time we met. Fully decided? I started planning the "Grand Proposal" last night." He laughed wryly. "Want to see the thirty pages of notes on how to do it? Legal sized pages, by the way, and I write pretty small."

~-~

"Sounds. . . detailed," Anne said softly.

"Oh, it is," Kenneth's voice agreed. "I picked the restaurant, the flowers, the wine, the dressmaker - for you, not me -my suit. I made plans to find out your favorite lovesong so I could have the band playing it when I popped the question."

"I see," she replied. "Silly Love Songs."

"Huh? You don't like love songs?"

"No, silly, that's my favorite. 'Silly Love Songs' by Paul McCartney."

"Oh."

"And the answer is 'yes'."

Kenneth's eyes snapped open and his head spun to face Anne's radiantly smiling face. "Huh?"

Instead of answering, Anne reached out to cup Kenneth's chin in her right hand, and leaned over to thoroughly kiss him.

~-~

No one had EVER kissed him like that. Soft yet demanding, sensuous yet friendly, and thoroughly arousing. Kenneth found himself leaning into the kiss, even as she drew back. Only her hand, still on his chin, held him back. She stopped when there was barely enough distance between them that they could each see the other's entire face.

"Yes, Kenneth," she said softly. "I will marry you."

~-~

"Take care, Xhinea," Adrienne called as her friend entered Celia Hurst's car. "I'll be in touch soon."

Jane stood watching from the Lincoln's driver-side door, her stern demeanor not betraying her inner concern and anxiety. *Not if I have anything to say about it, child,* she thought.

Once she had the car out of the parking lot and on the way back to Seasons House, Jane finally gave in to the emotions swirling inside her. "I thought we had discussed the inadvisability of getting too close to one of the students," she began. "And now I find that you are in the ladies room with a girl - and apparently there was an emotional scene. Both of you had obviously been crying.

"I'm sorry, Miss Jane," her student responded, but Jane wasn't certain she heard much in the way of remorse in Adrienne's voice. "Xhinea needed me. Some of the other girls were really . . . harsh to her - she was really, really upset and, well, I just couldn't leave her all alone."

*Damn,* Jane thought, *Doesn't that put me between the proverbial rock and a hard place. Either way I play this, I'm wearing the black hat. Still, she needs to be more cautious and there's no other way for her - not if she's going to come out of her time here with Adrian's reputation intact.* "Well, your compassion for another is commendable, but what if she finds out your, ah, true nature? That's a risk you really shouldn't take."

Out of the corner of her eye, Jane saw a very odd look flit across the petite blonde's face. "Ah, well, ummm, Ms. Jane? I'm afraid it's too late to worry about that just now."

A cold chill ran down Jane's spine as her eyes snapped from the road to her student. "What?!?"

"I, um, told her," Adrienne said, her voice very low. "About. . about Adrian."

*Close your mouth and drive, Jane Thompson!* she ordered herself and then promptly disobeyed. "My god, child! Why would you do such a thing?!"

Adrienne didn't immediately answer. "Well," she began, her voice quietly introspective, "It was like this, Ms. Jane. She sort of asked me to, um, be her girlfriend, and, well, I mean, I couldn't do that, right? But she IS my friend - already - and I couldn't, like, turn her down, either, so . . . "

*Double-damn!* Jane thought resigned. "So you had to explain," she finished with a breathy sigh. "Well, this certainly complicates things."

"That's not all of it," Adrienne put in. "I have to explain to her mother, too."

*Oh no you don't! Not in THIS lifetime!* "Leave that to me," Jane ordered. *Once I figure out just how I'm going to do that with a woman I don't know, don't trust and have met, thus far, only twice.*

"No, Miss Jane," Adrienne retorted firmly. "I'm sorry, but it's something that I have to do myself. For Xhinea's sake. I can't let her mother think Xhinea is . . . well, that she's not as sweet and, um, good as she really is. This is all my fault, and I have to set it right."

*Break-through,* Jane recognized, but with none of the elation she normally felt when a student completed their critical transition. *But now, how do I help you safely become Adrian again when you're determined to expose yourself as Adrienne to an outsider?*

 

 

 

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