Archiving and reposting of this story *unchanged* is permitted
provided that no fee be charged, either directly or indirectly
(this includes so-called "adult checks") *and* provided that
this disclaimer and attribution to the original author are
maintained.
Based on the characters and situations presented in "Seasons
of Change" by Joel Lawrence, Copyright 1989. This story is
archived in its entirety here at Fictionmania (go to search by
authors and select Joel Lawrence)
Acknowledgments
My sincere thanks to Brandy Dewinter for the gifts of her
creativity, her vision, her eye for 'just the right word' (and
wrong one of mine) and her, ummm, persistence. Special thanks to
the 'Blue Pen of Sonora', Denise Em, for the many hours she put
into proofing this. At some point, it becomes impossible for me
to read what I wrote, because I 'see' what I thought I wrote.
Any remaining errors are mine, probably because I wrongly thought
my way was better than Deni's.
Tales of the Season - Ken's Barbie
By Tigger
Copyright 2002
Introduction:
"Annie?" a harshly whispered voice hissed from the earpiece,
"It's me - Adrian."
"Adrian?! What is this? You know you're not supposed to call me."
"Anne, listen, I don't have much time. You gotta get me out of
here!"
"I can't do that. We signed that order putting you in that
rehabilitative Outward Bound-type boot camp program."
"Outward Bound?! Boot camp?!? Bullshit!! Only boots here have
Cuban heels! Dammit, Annie, I'm in some place called Kingston,
Rhode Island, and this crazy woman is trying to turn me into a
girl!"
"A girl?"
"Yeah. You gotta come get me."
"I don't believe it."
"Look, Anne, I wouldn't lie about this. Right now I'm a freakin'
blonde, wearin' a skirt and heels! Did you know I wear a 36A bra?
I didn't either. I don't want to know it now. It could have been
36B, because she showed me the silicone boobs in that size, too -
and Annie? They had fuckin' nipples! And I wear size 6 panties.
Panties, dammit! And a size 8 dress. How the fuck would I know
those sizes if I weren't telling the truth?"
"I don't know, but this just doesn't make sense."
"Believe me, Anne! Not only that, I'm calling from this damned
beauty shop we go to every Wednesday morning, and this blond
bitch of a beautician just said she was going to drag me to New
York so I could *entertain* some of her kinky friends down
there!. Goddamn it, Barbie, you gotta get me out of here!"
"Don't call me that!"
"Sorry, Anne, really, but... oh shit, someone's coming - I gotta
go. Come get me. Jane Thompson, Seasons House, Kingston, Rhode
Island. Hurry!"
~-~
The phone connection clicked off. For a moment, Barbara Anne
Braithwaite could only stare blankly at the now-buzzing
instrument. Then she pressed the star key code for Caller ID.
Since the originating phone had been in a commercial
establishment, both it's name and phone number flashed on the
small LCD display. Anne wrote both on her desktop blotter and
then with a single phone call, turned several people's lives,
including her own, upside down.
Chapter 1: You Can Go Home Again
Kenneth Roberts spun about in his almost-new office chair with
child-like glee. He had made it! Stopping his spin, he looked up
at three impressively framed documents that hung from the wall
behind his almost-new, not-really-impressive desk. The first,
awarded by a major mid-western university, conferred upon Kenneth
Allen Roberts the degree of Master of Law in International
Business and Trade. The second, awarded by a prestigious
institution in the greater Boston area, conferred upon Kenneth
Allen Roberts, the degree of Juris Doctor. The third framed
document, granted to Kenneth Allen Roberts the privileges and
rights of the Bar Association of the State of Rhode Island.
*Not bad for an almost-twenty-four year old,* he thought with
pride. Maybe the J.D. had been overkill on his part, but when
one had two such forceful, brilliant, determined women as Jane
Thompson and Her Honor, Judge Ruth Walinkiewicz vying for the
position of Kenneth Robert's 'first mother', one tended to grow
up as something of an over-achiever.
And when one considered the self-discipline and control Kenneth
had been forced to learn to deal with and counter the sadistic
machinations of his birth-mother, it became easier to understand
how somebody so young could have already achieved so much in his
life.
Today marked his first day on the job as junior associate in the
law firm of Ellis, Ellis, and Carter. Life would be challenging
for the next couple of years while he made his name in the field
and paid his dues. There'd be long nights and a good deal of
grunt work on someone else's cases, but he was looking forward to
the challenge. *By the time I'm thirty,* he promised himself, *It
will be Ellis, Ellis, Carter and Roberts - and WE will be THE
agency to retain to close a sticky international business deal.*
"Admiring your new office, such as it is, son,?" Richard Ellis
said from the door. He was a fit man of fifty-five or so, with
the energy and vigor of a man fifteen years his junior. His
silver hair was still thick and he had the easy manner of the old
time country lawyer which hid the razor sharp mind and killer
instinct of the top corporate tax lawyer in the Northeast.
Kenneth liked and respected him. More importantly, Jane Thompson
liked and respected him, which said a great deal good about this
man and his ethics.
"Just got the sheepskins up," Kenneth grinned as he stood to
greet the older man. "I'd offer you a chair, but I don't have one
yet."
"Already ordered, but if you need one, borrow one from the
conference room. I'll clear it with Mrs. Stone."
Mrs. Stone was Ellis' executive administrator, and it was
understood that she ran the office. The partners might be
nominally in charge, but even they listened VERY carefully when
Mrs. Stone spoke. Kenneth liked her as well, and couldn't wait to
introduce her to Momma Jane and Judge Ruth. The thought of those
three formidable women in one room was daunting, but some impish
streak he normally kept well under wraps could not let go of the
idea.
"Thanks, I'll take you up on that, but only if you are there to
protect me when I walk past her desk carrying the chair."
"I knew you were smart," Ellis said, grinning. "Anyway, the
reason I came looking for you is that I just got off the phone
with your Aunt, Jane Thompson. She'd like to speak to you as soon
as possible."
Kenneth smiled fondly. "Probably wants to remind me about the
wedding, again," he told the older man. "My foster brother is
getting married in a couple of weeks. Aunt Jane is hosting the
festivities out at Seasons House. I'm to be one of the ushers."
That was true and not true, Kenneth thought. There would indeed
be a wedding, joining in holy matrimony his foster brother,
Michael Nash, to his beloved Janice Davis. This was going to be a
full-up, very formal, society event joining two very prominent
families, the Nashes and the Davises. The actual wedding would
take place at St. Patrick's Cathedral in New York City with two
Archbishops officiating and celebrating the marital Mass. Gossip
columnists in the greater New York and Boston areas had been
following the wedding preparations for months and invitations
were highly prized by the members of the social upper crust.
There would also be another ceremony, celebrated the night
before, in Jane's private English Garden. That would be a very
private affair, attended only by a very few family members and
selected friends. In that ceremony, officiated by Judge Ruth,
Michael and Janice would affirm the commitment to one another.
Only, it would be Michelle and "Janson" affirming their
commitment.
As with most Janice-plans, this one had made a whole lot more
sense while Janice was talking (Kenneth thought about selling ice
to Eskimos and decided that Janice would consider that too easy)
than later when one had time to reflect upon it, but now it was
too late. Also, as with most Janice-plans, this one had taken on
a life of its own. Michael was fond of pointing out that stopping
a Category 5 hurricane was simple, compared to deflecting Janice
from her chosen path.
In this case, Janice had decided that she wanted to show her
husband that she loved, lusted for and treasured both sides of
the complex yin and yang equation that yielded Michael/Michelle
Nash. Her solution to this little problem was to hold this
second, rather unique wedding ceremony.
In true Seasons House tradition, participating boys would be
dressed in girl clothing, while the girls would be dressed in boy
clothing - at least for the most part. Michelle had been fitted
with her own wedding gown ("I'm not having any possibility of bad
luck coming from you seeing MY gown before the wedding, and
besides, it would really tick me off if you looked better in it
that I do!" Janice had told her mate-to-be.) The brides-maids
would be former students of Jane's resuming their old roles -
Darla (Darryl) as 'matron of honor' with Beth (David) and Jessica
(Jesse) completing the "bride's" party. Diana (Art) would
admirably fill the role of "Mother of the Bride" while "Uncle
Jack Thompson" and "Father Barton Davis" would jointly give away
the "bride".
The 'groom' and her 'grooms-persons' would be wearing very sexily
cut feminine tuxedos and would consist of "Audie" (Audrey)
Thompson as best 'man' with Carroll (Carolyn) Beale and Sander
(Sandra) Madden completing the party.
*Ought to be a hoot,* Kenneth thought with just a trace of
sadness. It wasn't often he regretted the growth spurt that had
put seven inches and fifty pounds on his tall, lithe frame, but
this was one of those times. At six feet three inches tall and
185 lbs, he just couldn't 'do' Kendra very well anymore.
At least, not to HIS expectations in any case.
Actually, only a few years earlier, any such feelings of regret
would have surprised the boy he'd been. After he'd gone to live
with Judge Ruth following his final showdown with his
birth-mother, Kenneth had taken up bodybuilding in a big way.
After a while, he'd recognized that to be an over-reaction to
what his mother had planned to do to him. It would be hard to
feminize Mr. Universe, after all. In the end, he hadn't liked the
look, and with the help of a very good personal trainer, had
instead opted for his current build - much less bulked up, more
fitness-oriented. That regimen, combined with the aforementioned
growth spurt, had endowed him with the lean-muscled frame of the
endurance swimmer.
Which made the ability to transform himself into the cute, petite
Kendra a thing of Kenneth's past.
"No," Ellis said thoughtfully, his words interrupting his young
colleague's mental ruminations, "I don't think that was her
reason for calling. She asked me if there would be a problem with
her hiring your professional services, either from a company
policy or from an ethical perspective. I told her no - lawyers do
work for their families all the time and having a junior member
of the firm representing Jane Thompson in any capacity is a coup
to us. That's one hell of a lady."
"She is that. Okay, I'll call her. Thanks, Mr. Ellis."
"I believe that if I've told you oncest, I've told you thrice,
that anyone with a Harvard J.D. can call me Richard, son. Try to
remember that in the future, if you don't mind. See you later,
okay?"
Kenneth waited for Richard to leave before picking up the phone.
He dialed a number from memory and settled back down into his
almost-new chair. The phone was picked up halfway through the
second ring. A familiar voice said, "This is Jane Thompson."
"Hi Momma-Jane," he replied. "This is your son-the-lawyer. What
do you need?"
"A great deal, Kenneth. I'm sorry to intrude upon your privacy,
but are you free for dinner tonight? Semi-formal, I'm afraid -
suit and tie at the least - as I have junior student in
residence, but we'll be able to talk after the meal. I need your
help."
"Usual time?" he asked, his willingness to serve already clear to
them both.
"We'll sit down to table at seven sharp, dear."
"Tell Marie to set an extra plate and put another cup of water in
her spaghetti sauce. I'm on my way."
"Thank you, dear."
Chapter 2: The Other Side of the Table
Kenneth had never been a participant in a student's
rehabilitation at Seasons House in either the junior or senior
sister role. He did not count the few hellish days he spent under
Jane's program, when his birth-mother had forged court sentencing
papers in an attempt to trick Jane into feminizing her son.
Fortunately for Kenneth, it had only taken Jane about two days to
figure out that something about this unusually controlled and
composed young man was not consistent with the barely civilized
animal described in the records provided by the "court". Two days
later, Kenneth had been out of skirts and restored to his
masculine state while a furious Jane Thompson and Judge Ruth had
plotted the downfall of Sheila Roberts.
So he had never been at table when Jane was working on another
student's manners and deportment. It was an uncomfortable
experience, as it brought back memories of the meals he'd eaten
and later thrown up during his own blessedly-short time in the
Seasons House hot seat.
He'd expected to be asked to play the 'flirting male who's not in
on the gag' role during the meal, much as Michael and Darryl had
described others doing. Jane had quickly disabused him of that
notion immediately upon his arrival at Seasons House. Basically,
she had wanted him to act like a casual business acquaintance of
hers, and to interact only very formally with either of the young
people. At first, he'd been a little disappointed, having spent
the better part of the afternoon after his phone-call with Jane
thinking about what he'd do and say with the junior boy-girl
student. Halfway through the fish course, however, any residual
disappointment had long-since evaporated to be replaced by a
growing sense of relief.
He'd met the senior student/big sister before and liked her
immediately. Jessica (Jesse) was now Jane's foster child, an
orphan who was now as much Jane Thompson's son as Kenneth, Darryl
or Michael. *She sure is cute,* Kenneth thought as he considered
the petite brunette in the robin's egg blue and cream dress.
*Hard to believe that Kendra was ever in her class, the pictures
in Aunt Jane's Rogues Gallery to the contrary.*
The junior student, however, was an unknown quantity to the young
attorney. Adrienne, formerly Adrian, Braithwaite was seated
directly opposite Jane so that she could watch every move and
correct every small error in manners or deportment.
Unfortunately, this student didn't bother to make small errors -
she seemed to delight in making colossal ones.
*In fact,* Kenneth mused as he savored Marie's marvelous
maple-glazed baked ham, *It's as if she is doing her level best
to infuriate Jane. That's the third time she's been corrected for
the same screw-up. How many times do you have to be told to how
to use a napkin properly? How long has this kid been here? Long
enough to look pretty good as a girl... so why hasn't she
picked up on how to get through a meal without this kind of
heartburn. Is Jane being particularly demanding? I don't think
so. What the hell is going on here?*
As the meal progressed, tension around the table increased with
each passing dish until, just before the dessert course, Jane set
down her napkin with very great care and glared at her junior
student. "Adrienne, if you cannot dine in a civilized manner,
then you will not dine at all. In case it has escaped your
notice, we have a guest tonight and your boorish behavior is
beyond anything I can accept." Jane pressed a small button
beneath the table, summoning Marie.
"Yes, Ms. Thompson?" Marie said as she entered the dining room.
"Please serve Mr. Roberts and Jessica their dessert. Adrienne and
I will retire to her room, as we have some pressing issues to
discuss. Please have coffee served in my apartment in half an
hour. Mr. Roberts, I would be gratified if you would join me for
coffee, assuming you are not so offended by this one's behavior
that you wish to call off our business together."
"I would be honored to take coffee with you, Ms. Thompson,"
Kenneth replied, keeping to the role Jane had assigned him in
this little drama. "I will await your pleasure."
Jane gave him a regal nod of her head and then rose from her
chair. "Come with me, Miss," she ordered her wayward pupil
sternly, "NOW!"
Kenneth was shocked when, making no effort to disguise her
distaste for the order or the woman giving it, Adrienne actually
seemed to consider whether she was going to obey. Finally, she
shrugged and rose gracelessly from her chair. "After you, Mizz
Thompson, Ma'am," she said in a voice that in no way sounded
feminine - not in tone, not in pitch and certainly not in
inflection.
Stunned by Adrienne's utter disinterest in protecting her
identity, Kenneth could only stare as Jane took the erring
student by her elbow and actually frog-walked her out of the
room. For several moments, he struggled to make sense of what he
had just seen. Then he looked over to where Marie stood behind
Jessica. "What the HELL was that all about?"
"If we knew that for certain, cher-Kenneth," Marie sighed, "We
might be able to fix it."
"Adrienne's been here for almost two months, Mr. Roberts,"
Jessica said softly. "She was doing very well - Jane was starting
to think about fishing around for a new little sister and I was
getting ready to move in with Michael and Janice so that Adrienne
could become the big sister. Then, all of a sudden, instant
throw-back."
"Throw-back?" Marie snorted. "That child was never THAT bad here
before, petite," she said before turning back to Kenneth, "One
morning, barely a week ago, she comes down to breakfast, all
sweetness and light - a lovely young person. I quite liked her,"
she added, and Kenneth could see how that upset the softhearted
little Frenchwoman. "Jane took her to the Chalet for her weekly
hair coloring, set and make up lessons - everything seemed fine
there, from what we can gather."
"Jane was afraid Sandy had stepped over the line again, and that
might have been the cause of her turnaround," Jessica put in,
"But Caro was the one who worked her that day - almost
exclusively, in fact, since Sandy was indisposed and, ah, a
little nauseous," she added, blushing just a little.
"Oui," Marie continued. "Anyway, the girl came home acting the
little bitch, eh? And she has gotten worse every day since."
"No idea why? None at all?" Kenneth was surprised.
"I did not say that," Marie said emphatically. "We have no proof,
but we think Adrienne's guardian may be part of the problem. She
has begun pestering Jane in the past few days. Demanding progress
reports, calling at odd hours, insisting that she be allowed to
speak with her brother."
"Brother?"
"Adrienne is an orphan, like me," Jessica put in softly. "Unlike
me, she had an adult sister who took her in. Unfortunately,
sister has to work to support them both and she was too lenient
with her brother; couldn't supervise him closely enough. He got
in with a bad crowd and got into trouble with the law. Selling
pot, running numbers, shoplifting."
"I see," Kenneth replied.
"Getting him out of that permissive, unsupervised environment
seemed to help a great deal," Marie said, "as did the forced
petticoating. Jane is not lenient, nor is Adrienne unsupervised
any longer."
"No kidding," Kenneth smiled. "Any idea why I'm here?"
Marie shrugged. "Ideas, yes. Knowledge? No. I will let Jane tell
you what she wants you to know."
"All right, Tante Marie. One last question?"
"Oui, cheri?"
Kenneth tried his best to look pitiful. "Didn't Momma-Jane say
*I* could have dessert?"
"Oh, you," Marie said with smiling, maternal exasperation. "Be
right out with it. I made your favorite."
"Strawberry Pie with homemade vanilla ice cream?!?"
"Of course. What else would I make when one of my boys comes home
to visit?"
"Could we have it in the kitchen? Like old times? This place is
just a little, well, daunting - especially after what we just
went through."
"But of course, cheri. Join us, Jessica?"
~-~
Forty-five minutes later, Jane walked into to her private parlor
to find Kenneth waiting for her in the semi-darkened room. She
flicked on the rest of the lights and headed over to a hidden
panel above the hearth. A few quick, deft manipulations had the
panel sliding away to reveal a large, closed circuit television
monitor. Jane turned it on and the scene of a bedroom, an
obviously nude young person, laying atop a very frilly bed.
"Letting the boys sleep in the buff these days because of the
heat, Momma-Jane?" Kenneth asked as he handed her a cup of the
strong black coffee she preferred to the tea she drank as part of
her role.
"Of course not," Jane said with trenchant disgust. "It's just
another way the child is defying me. You can see she's tossed her
lingerie and the nightgown on the floor in a heap."
"What's going on? I spoke with Marie and Jessica, so I know the
kid has had a major turn for the worse recently. What, if
anything, can I do to help?"
"I need you to put the fear of God into his sister," Jane said
intensely.
"The boy's guardian?"
"By court edict, *I* am that child's legal guardian until such
time as I deem him rehabilitated, or until the court or I
determine him to be incorrigible. His sister signed the court
order temporarily relinquishing guardianship to me. If she
rescinds that agreement, he goes to juvenile detention until he
turns eighteen."
"So he's a court-appointed case. I thought that gave you a good
deal more control and latitude than with a contract agreement
between just you and the student's parents?"
"And so it normally does. However, this one's sister has somehow
reached the conclusion that I am engaging in child abuse and has
begun systematically harassing me - by phone, by letter, even
confronting me in town the other day."
"Wow. What is she saying? What does she have to back up that
contention?"
"A fairly accurate, if skewed description of what I do here in my
program, and a couple of photographs taken from a distance using
a powerful zoom lens." Jane handed him a large manila envelope.
"Look at that," she ordered quietly.
Inside the envelope were the two aforementioned black and white
photographs and a typed letter. The first of the two pictures
showed a full-face close-up of young teenaged girl with very curly
hair, huge eyes and a rather heavily made-up face. *Must have
been taken right after Caro and Sandy got done with her,* Kenneth
thought as he flipped to the second picture. This one showed a
full-length shot of the same girl, garbed in a skirt, blouse, and
fairly tall heels, looking up with what might be taken for a
fearful expression at a very stern-looking Jane Thompson. "These
do not show you to advantage, Momma-Jane."
"I know. She looks terrified, doesn't she? While I seem to be the
wicked witch of the east, west, north AND south."
"You can be rather formidable, you know. Is she uncertain of her
ability to carry off the masquerade? Is that why she has become,
well, difficult to deal with?"
"Nothing of the kind. In fact, she is good at it. She's more
agile in heels than Jessica. What she has been doing of late, is
to be very careful to ensure that she does nothing to break her
own masquerade publicly. However, once we are alone together, or
if there is a single visitor? Kenneth, the girl positively BAITS
me. It's as if she is trying to make me lose my temper with her.
It is all so, well, the only term I can come up with is
premeditated."
"So you think she wants you to step over the line in some manner
she can use in a court case?"
"At least threaten me with that. My best guess, based on how
careful she's been to protect her own identity in very public
situations, is that she is hoping either to blackmail me or
settle out of court with sealed records."
"That sounds... well, Machiavellian, Mom."
"Nothing else fits the fact, Kenneth. Read the letter."
Ms. Thompson
It has come to my attention just what your program entails, and I
am not just appalled, I am infuriated. That my brother is, at the
behest of the court, undergoing such a humiliating, dehumanizing
and emasculating experience at your hands is beyond anything.
My attorneys are at this very moment reviewing the court order
with the intent of appealing it and overturning it. I have been
given to understand that there is reason to hope that they will
be able to do so.
However, should that prove to be a false hope, I will find a way
to stop you, even if it is too late for my brother. Clearly you
and that Judge are together in this, so that means you may be
able to perpetrate this crime against other boys who are sent to
you for help.
HELP? HAH! What utter garbage.
So, I want you to understand this, you perverse bitch. You had
better PRAY that my lawyers can overturn this travesty of
justice, otherwise I will be forced to take other, more drastic
action to stop you! If the legally constituted courts cannot be
relied upon to protect children from animals like you, then the
court of public opinion will bring you down. Don't think my
brother's 'reputation' will protect you as I don't believe he
will have one in any case when you are through with him. If he
must suffer, I want it to be for a good cause and stopping you
will surely be the best such cause.
Oh, and if you think to avoid this by declaring my brother
'incorrigible' and packing him off to reform school, I will STILL
destroy you and your nasty little 'school'. As you can see from
the sample enclosed, I am developing the evidence I need.
B. A. Braithwaite
"Strong words," Kenneth said after finishing the letter, "And
these are just damning enough to support her case in the absence
of other evidence to the contrary. Didn't she know what you do
here?"
Jane sat down on the plushly cushioned Victorian 'Fainting
Couch', kicked off her heels and laid back against the rich
velvet upholstery. "Ruth handles that end of the arrangements
when it is a court settlement. Normally, she is very up-front
about what the parents can expect, especially after that one
mother took to showing up on my doorstep unannounced two or three
times a month," Jane said as she began to massage her temples
with the knuckles of her index fingers. "However, in this case,
she decided to deviate from that policy."
"Oh? And why did she do that? Aunt Ruth rarely flies in the face
of a working precedent."
"From what I gathered, Miss Braithwaite is very young - barely
twenty-two. She had only just come of age when her parents died
and she took responsibility for his upbringing. Ruth felt she
might not go along with the deal if she had the full disclosure
and made the decision to withhold a good deal of detail."
"Define a good deal of detail, please," Lawyer Roberts ordered
quietly.
"Don't badger the witness, dear," Jane admonished with a tired
smile. "Miss Braithwaite, after discussions with your
Aunt-the-Judge, concluded that my program was one of those
"Spirit Quest" things, a sort of Boys Town where young men in
trouble are sent to discover themselves and the true Dao to peace
and enlightenment. Ruth did not attempt to correct that
impression."
"You've got to be kidding me. Ruth Walinkiewicz KNOWS better than
to pull something like that."
"You can talk to her yourself, but that's precisely what she did
do. As I said, Ruth felt that the sister would not have signed
the plea bargain is she fully understood what I was doing, and
the last thing she wanted to do was send him to a juvenile
detention facility. Besides, she had decided that the boy was
going to be relatively easy anyway. All he really needed was some
shock therapy to get his attention, some structure and discipline
in his life, and time to reflect on what he'd been doing to
himself and his sister."
"Except she was wrong about the kid."
Jane sighed. "Hindsight is 20/20, Kenneth. However, up until a
week ago, Ruth's assessment of Adrienne was right on the mark.
Then, bang. Since the moment we left the beauty salon, I don't
think I have ever had a less responsive student in all my time
here at Seasons House."
"Okay, you said you wanted my help. Put the fear of God in her, I
think you said. How do I do that? And to what end?"
"Go to her. Use your lawyerly skills to intimidate her. Convince
her that public exposure is not a good idea for her or her
brother. I don't know, threaten to countersue."
"Why even bother with that, Mom? Ruth has the full power of her
office behind that order. Why not just go after her that way?
Ruth can threaten to vacate the suspension if she doesn't go
away."
"Two reasons," Jane said. "First, taking that course of action
could well mean the boy ends up out of my hands and in the
juvenile justice detention system, and I'm not ready to give up
on him!" Kenneth smiled, knowing full well that 'give up' were
only two words stuck together for Jane Thompson and not a concept
she either embraced or really understood.
"You said there were two reasons," Kenneth prompted the quietly
fuming woman.
"The sister, Barbara, signed the court order. There is a gag
order associated with any referrals to my program. If she does
what she threatens, she is in contempt and will join her brother
behind bars. Unfortunately, Ruth leaving her in ignorance about
what she signed really muddies that issue. Still, the possibility
of her facing jail time does not please me anymore than sending
that boy to juvie for the next four years of his life pleases
me."
"Mr. Ellis is a lot better lawyer than I am, Momma Jane, with a
lot more experience. I think he'd be better at this than I would
be."
"Richard is a delightful man, and as you say, one of the finest
lawyers in the country, but he's not the right man for this task.
After all, he is not among the 'in the know' about my activities
here at Seasons House. You are and you fully understand the need
to protect the rest of my boys."
"What does Art think? By the way, where is Art? I thought he was
coming back for the wedding?"
"He got in last night from Bosnia. Poor dear hasn't come out of
the bedroom except to use the bathroom and eat for almost
twenty-four hours. What he saw there...isn't pleasant."
"So you and Diana will be at the weddings?"
"Diana will be," Jane said quietly. "Right now, I don't think I
will be able to trust Adrienne sufficiently to allow her to
attend which means someone will have to watch her. I'm the School
Mistress here. That makes it my responsibility."
"But Michelle is counting on you," Kenneth blurted and instantly
regretted it when he saw the sheen of tears glitter in Jane
Thompson's tired eyes.
"I made a commitment," she said very softly. "Michelle...
Michael will simply have to understand. If you cannot get Barbara
Braithwaite to back off so that I can turn her brother around, I
simply won't be able to attend either ceremony."
"DAMN!"
"I quite agree."
Chapter 3: Calling in the Sisters... Brothers
Kenneth sat staring at the telephone, willing it to ring. He'd
spent the hour it had taken him to reach his apartment in Warwick
from Seasons House to conclude that he might need reinforcements
available when he went to face Ms. Barbara A. Braithwaite.
When it came to covering a fellow's back, no one did it quite as
well as family.
The phone rang, and Kenneth had the receiver off the cradle
before the first echo ended. "Roberts, here," he said.
"Hey, bro'," a familiar voice answered him. "I've got D' here on
the extension. What's up?"
"Trouble, brothers, big trouble," Kenneth said by way of reply.
"Momma-Jane has a problem, and she needs us to help solve it."
~-~
"Lord, Ken," Darryl said after listening quietly, "I have more
experience with Jane's students than anyone except Jane, and I've
never seen anyone act like... like... "
"Like they were trying to force her to be abusive," Michael
finished, anger rippling in his tones. "As if she would!"
"One thing I've learned about the legal system, Mike?" Kenneth
put in, "Is that it isn't always the fact or the intent, but the
appearances that matter, and how those appearances are presented
to the judge and the jury."
"That's a pretty cynical viewpoint for a newly ordained
lawyer-man, Ken," Michael noted.
"I know, Mike, but look, they don't have to win to hurt Mom,
okay? We've always known that she is out there on the windy
corner with this program. If the gossip-sheets get wind of this,
the program dies. Not only that, but Mom will be hounded for the
rest of her life."
"Point taken," Darryl said. "So, what do we do?"
"First things first, I think," Kenneth said. "I need a reading on
the sister, and the only way to get that is to meet with her."
"You could always ask Aunt Ruth," Darryl argued. "I mean, she
must have thought well of the woman to recommend Momma-Jane to
her."
"Aunt Ruth is a court-judge. If I ask her, she will ask me why.
as an attorney, I can't lie to her. Once she knows, she'll be in
the position of having to decide whether or not to vacate the
suspension and whether to hold the sister in contempt. Neither of
those will do Mom or her program a lick of good."
"What do you hope to accomplish?"
"Figure out where she's coming from. Find a way to convince her
that her little brother just might be manipulating her a bit.
And, most importantly, that what Jane Thompson does is a GOOD
thing."
"You know, Ken, when I... well, when I went off the deep end,
one of the things that really caught my attention? Was when Eric
showed up in my suicide-proofed room as Erica. Then he
transformed into Eric before my eyes. First male I'd ever seen in
Seasons House, you know? I was more inclined to listen to him
because, well, because he obviously knew what I was going
through. He had the t-shirt - or is it the teddy? - to prove he'd
been there, too."
"It's not like I can show up on her doorstep as Kendra, Mike. I
don't fit in those clothes anymore," Ken said disgustedly, "But
that was one reason I called you two. Presenting Darla and
Michelle to her, along with your exemplary bone fides, might be a
useful tactic, depending on how the initial interview goes."
"Might work," Darryl said. "Wish we had something to hold over
her head like we did with Steve's father, though."
"The file on her Jane showed me is squeaky clean, Bro'. By all
accounts, she's just a nice girl who loves her brother, works too
hard, and doesn't have the experience to deal with a boy going
through what her brother got caught in."
"Well, you know we'll do whatever we can, Ken," Mike put in. "I
will be on her doorstep in petties and pinafores, with my
sheepskins in hand if that's what it takes."
"And I'll be with him, big brother, and I figure I can get
another dozen at least without even trying hard."
"If we need more than you two, I don't think a dozen will be
better."
"When do you go see her?"
"Tomorrow. Unofficially, at first. I don't want to announce my
presence as Jane's representative until I know what's going on in
her head."
"Be careful with those secret agendas, Kenneth," Darryl told him.
"I nearly lost Audrey that way."
"I'm going to negotiate with her, Darryl, not marry her!"
"All the same, nice girls don't like feeling that they've been
duped. Lawyers, in my experience, sometimes forget such social
niceties."
"Not lawyers trained by Aunt Ruth and Momma-Jane. We're gentlemen
- or else. See you later, guys."
Chapter 4: Ms. B. Anne Braithwaite
The small conference and meeting room he'd reserved at the
Marriott hotel was both simple and luxurious. *Nothing but the
best when you represent Jane Thompson,* he told himself with a
grin. *Besides, I am going to need all the ammunition I can get.
A little conspicuous display of Momma-Jane's considerable wealth
and power might help these negotiations in the long run.*
Kenneth set his attache case down behind the large desk. He
opened the case, removed his briefs and set them out where he
could get at them easily. He was as ready as he was going to be
for this encounter. There were several ways this could go down,
and most of them were not good in some manner. *Just keep
thinking those positive thoughts, Kenneth, my boy.*
He took off his suit coat and did some stretching exercises. He
felt stiff and tired, for he hadn't slept well the night before.
Part of that was stress, but another, equally significant aspect
of his restlessness had been guilt. He'd spent the previous night
with his 'other' foster mother, Judge Ruth, but had not told her
the nature of his business in her fine city. Kenneth had never
before hidden anything from either of the two women who had saved
him from Sheila, but telling Ruth would put her in the position
of having to ignore what was a violation of the court agreement
or putting the boy juvie while bringing his sister up on charges.
*You are caught,* he thought ruefully, *Between Jane's program
and Ruth's career. Talk about ye olde Rock and ye olde hard
place. They don't get any more comfortable with time.*
The phone on the desk rang and he answered it. It was the
concierge. "Yes, this is Mr. Roberts. Oh, she is? Please ask one
of the bellmen to escort her up to the conference room. Yes,
thank you."
Kenneth set the phone down and reached for his suit coat.
~-~
He answered the door on the first knock and was brought up short
by his first look at Ms. Barbara Anne Braithwaite. *Adrienne's
prettier,* was Kenneth's first reaction on meeting Jane's
adversary, and then his 'Marie-trained eye' caused him to
reconsider that statement. *She's not trying to be attractive.
Intentionally? Is she coming here garbed for combat and doesn't
want me to get any ideas?*
B. Anne Braithwaite - for that was the way she had signed her
letter - wore minimal makeup, just a bit of pale lipstick and
mascara as though she wanted to avoid the statement absolutely no
cosmetics would make without making an actual statement of her
own. The gray suit she wore in no way showed her figure to any
advantage - which should not have been too difficult, Kenneth
realized, for the woman was slender and elegantly tall. She was
easily taller than her brother, in fact - perhaps five feet ten
or eleven inches in the unflattering flat-heeled loafers she
wore. Her dark blonde hair was pulled back in the kind of
unattractive, ruthless chignon that would look the same if her
hair were shoulder length or bun-length.
And yet, there was something about her that appealed,
nonetheless. Her intelligently-alert brown eyes were her best
feature - large and filled with mysterious depths. Moreover, she
had a mouth, Kenneth thought, that was meant to smile.
Only it wasn't smiling now. Kenneth forced himself to concentrate
on the task at hand. *No wondering what Marie could do with those
eyes, Roberts, at least not until the business is taken care of.
Something tells me dealing with this one will take every ounce of
smarts you've got.*
"Ms. Braithwaite," he said quickly, "Won't you come in and sit
down, please."
Wordlessly, she strode into the room and sat down in the chair
he'd indicated.
Kenneth moved to his own seat and tried to look 'lawyerly'.
"Thank you for coming to see me, Ms. Braithwaite."
She gave an unladylike snort. "As if I had a choice. The wording
in that summons your messenger brought to my apartment was rather
blunt. 'Show up or face charges' sums it up quite accurately."
"I apologize for that," he said, "It isn't my intent to threaten
you, only to impress upon you the gravity of our mutual situation
and the need for you to participate in the solution."
"Oh, I don't feel threatened, Mister, I feel pissed! And the only
one who is facing anything grave is that woman you claim to
represent!"
"I see. Just so that we both understand where we stand in this
situation, you did sign the court order remanding your brother to
Ms. Jane Thompson for rehabilitative training in exchange for the
judge agreeing to suspend his sentence to juvenile detention?"
Those incredible brown eyes narrowed momentarily, and then she
nodded once sharply. "And would this document be a signed copy of
that court order? I know it has the seal of the state court on
it, but I would like to confirm that this is the form and that
is, in fact, your signature."
She glanced at the proffered form for only a moment before
locking eyes with Kenneth again. "It's the form and that is my
signature."
"Thank you. Ms. Braithwaite. Now, you understand that by
communicating with Ms. Thompson as you did, by interposing
yourself into her program for your brother as you have, you stand
in violation, perhaps even in criminal violation of your
agreement with the court as described in that document?"
Raw fury flashed in the woman's eyes, making them almost black.
"And what she's doing to my brother is not a violation?!?" she
demanded in a low, husky voice that seemed to vibrate the very
air.
"No, it is not."
"THAT'S what's CRIMINAL, Mr. Roberts! My brother is clearly being
abused, and whether that has the blessing of that woman's COURT
or NOT is absolutely beside the point. My brother was threatened
with unspeakable acts by the women at that chalet-place and he's
being forced to act like a female and wear women's clothes in
PUBLIC! And you say that *I* am criminal? I think you need to
review your textbooks on child abuse law, Mr. Roberts!"
*Sandy and her stupid threats,* Kenneth thought. "Ms.
Braithwaite, the real problem here, as I understand it, is that
you were not fully apprized of Ms. Thompson's method when you
signed that agreement..."
"Fully apprized? Fully apPRIZED? Mister, that woman LIED to me! I
was told that my brother would be out of the city - in the
country and fresh air - eating fresh food, learning new skills,
developing problem-solving skills. That is NOT what he's doing."
*Actually, that's precisely what he is doing,* Kenneth thought as
he recalled some of Jane's more challenging lessons, *but you are
no mood to hear that. Besides, simply saying that to you would
end up leading to just one more evasion because I'm not going to
tell you the specifics - yet.*
"I see. Did the Judge tell you this was an Outward-Bound type
experience?"
"She didn't correct me when I asked her if that is what this was
all about! She deceived me!"
*Ruth, whether you intended to be vague but truthful or not, you
screwed this up, big time. And the only way any of us are coming
out this cleanly is to put the whole mess on the table. God, I
wish I had more experience at this!*
"I'm sure that it was not Judge Walinkiewicz's intent to deceive
or mislead you," *Like hell it wasn't!* "but all the same, the
explanations were obviously not well done. Look, Ms. Braithwaite,
I am going to level with you and explain Ms. Thompson's program
to you in detail. Perhaps if you better understand what she is
really doing you can better see what she is trying to accomplish
with your brother."
"And why should I believe you anymore than I believed that Judge
Ruth Whatevertheheckhernamewas? YOU represent the woman who is
really doing the abuse."
"Because, after I have finished briefing you on Ms. Thompson's
program and its history, you will have all the ammunition you
need to hurt her badly, and at the same time, the nearly one
hundred young men who have completed her program and who have
gone on to live productive, happy lives."
"As what? Women?"
Kenneth allowed that question to hang in the air between them for
several tense moments, his own dark eyes never leaving hers. When
he spoke, the quiet intensity of his voice surprised even him.
"Do I look like a woman to you, Ms. Braithwaite?"
"YOU?!?"
"My name was Kendra when I was a student at Jane Thompson's
school," Kenneth told her with quiet dignity.
"I don't believe you. Why would you admit something like that to
me? A stranger? What man would EVER admit something like that?"
"It's the truth, and as to why I would admit it to you? I was
hoping my revelation might help establish my credentials, if you
will. I know from first hand experience what Jane Thompson and
her program are really all about. What I went through with her
did not hurt me in any way, and in the long run, did me a great
deal of good, as it has all her boys. My experiences there were
tough and at times unpleasant, but sometimes love has to be
tougher than the problems you are trying to solve."
"What possible good could come of forcing such a thing on a young
man? What POSSIBLE justification could there be?"
"Success is one justification," Kenneth said soberly. "As to the
good? Let me explain what Jane does and why she does it. Then
perhaps you'll understand better what is really happening to your
brother."
Chapter 5: Point-Counterpoint/Offer-Counter Offer
"So, the basic goal of all this is to put the boys in highly
stressful situations, situations where they would previously
resort to whatever inappropriate behaviors got them sent to Jane
in the first place, while dressed as girls. However, the very
fact that they ARE dressed as girls forces them to stop and think
before react inappropriately. At the same time, the concentration
on manners and deportment help socialize the student."
"It sounds like hogwash, Mr. Roberts. Your Ms. Thompson is
abusing my brother, and I will see her and you in court!"
"You're going to lose, Ms Braithwaite," Kenneth said quietly, "Or
at best, win a Pyrrhic victory."
"Oh, you really think so? This isn't San Francisco, Mr. Roberts,
nor is it Boston or New York. This is MidWestern America, and
here, folks think that making boys into girls against their will
is a sin and a crime. I can guarantee that any jury in this part
of the country will convict her."
"Perhaps, but in a criminal case, I'll easily win on appeal, if
it goes that far. I think it far more likely, however, that I
will be able to get the case thrown out before it even gets that
far. Look, Ms. Braithwaite, the fact is that what Ms. Thompson
does has been highly successful. I can call social workers,
judges, parents of her students, law enforcement officers - all
of whom have direct knowledge of what she does and how she goes
about it, and everyone of them will support her claim that she is
in no way abusive. And that is before I bring in the students
themselves to testify on her behalf."
"You simply can NOT believe any of that," the woman said, her
eyes wide with incredulity.
"Oh, but I do believe ALL of that. Ms. Braithwaite, suppose your
brother, instead of having been sent to Ms. Thompson, had been
sent to one of those boot-camp-styled youth rehabilitation
programs. At the boot camp, he'd have been immersed in the type
of macho oriented, group situation he's already shown he cannot
handle. In my view, all one of the boot camps entails is a
gang-like mindset and dynamic, but with better leadership.
On the other hand, Ms. Thompson isolates him from that type of
situation while forcing him to reexamine the unfortunate social
choices that have led him to this point. The rest, in other
words, the externals, are merely tools to effect that
reexamination. What's the real difference between curls, skirts
and heels, compared to skinheads, fatigues and army boondockers?
Both are artificial; both have a point. The real question we need
to address here should be - Which situation presents the solution
most likely to solve the problem that got Adrian sent to Jane in
the first place?"
"And you said that all with a straight face," Anne Braithwaite
said wonderingly. "No one in THIS part of the country is going to
believe that putting a boy in skirts is more likely to make a man
of him than going to boot camp."
"As I said, Ms. Braithwaite, I have an overwhelming preponderance
of historical evidence and testimony to the contrary."
"All right, so you might win a criminal case. As O.J. Simpson has
discovered, that is not the only path to justice in this
country."
"You're referring to a civil lawsuit? Claiming what? Infringement
of Constitutional rights? Something along those lines?" When the
woman did not say anything, Kenneth nodded. "I'd say your chances
of winning any significant settlement there are, at best, 50/50.
Some of the people who are willing to act as testimonials to Ms.
Thompson's methods are rather important men and I believe that
their statements would carry great weight, even with the most
hidebound of juries. And then, there'd be appeals. I think it is
safe to say, Ms. Braithwaite, that when whatever lawyer has
offered to represent you pending the award sees my case, you
might find he wants to be paid up front with no guarantees."
"My brother will still be free of her."
"Your brother will still be in jail, Ms. Braithwaite. And without
a criminal case against my client, you will likely be facing
contempt of court charges yourself."
"So, why don't you just bring me up on those charges? The letter
I sent to that woman is all the proof you need!"
"Three reasons. First, my client doesn't want to hurt your
brother. She feels, quite strongly, that sending him to juvie for
the next four years might well do irreparable harm to him.
Second, she doesn't want to hurt you."
"I find that very difficult to believe," she interrupted
snappishly.
Kenneth shrugged. "As you will. And yet, your brother has not
been physically abused or disciplined in any way. He's been well
fed and his physical needs seen to at all times, and he's been
challenged physically, emotionally and mentally in ways that
force him to learn things about himself he'd never otherwise."
"Everything's wonderful except he's being turned into a girl!"
"He's being made to act like a girl. In three months to a year,
he'd be back in trousers, living as masculine an existence as I
am - except that he'll be doing it as a much nicer male to be
around."
"So YOU say. You'll forgive me if I feel you have failed to prove
your case to MY satisfaction. And what was the third reason, Mr.
Roberts? For this Thompson woman to want to keep this out of
court?"
"Although her students are more than willing to come forward for
her, to testify publicly in her behalf about their experiences in
her keeping, she does not want them to do so. As you have
indirectly pointed out, there are prejudices in this country that
affect how others perceive people. She'd rather that...
appearances in open court by her former students not be
necessary."
"So, what's the alternative, Mr. Roberts. Are you going to offer
me a deal? Some type of settlement?"
"Ms. Thompson regrets that you were not fully apprized of, and in
agreement with her proposed program for Adrian when you signed
the commitment papers. Therefore, provided that you meet certain
specific conditions, she is willing to release your brother to
your recognizance."
"Without the vacation of the suspended sentence?"
"If you agree to her conditions, and then, if you meet her
conditions, she will sign his release papers and return full
guardianship to you as if your brother had successfully completed
her program of studies."
"Sounds too good to be true."
"I don't believe you will think so. First, you and your brother
must sign legally binding non-disclosure agreements promising not
to reveal any part of Ms. Thompson's program until after her
death. As guardian, you will, of course, be responsible for your
brother's compliance with those agreements until such time as he
reaches his majority. Failure on either of your parts to comply
with those agreements not only opens you to legal action, but
voids the second, financial portion of the settlement."
"Financial? I don't understand. All I want is to get my brother
out of that hellhole!"
"As you will, but you should hear me out nonetheless, Ms.
Braithwaite. My client, Ms. Thompson, feels that you were
overwhelmed by your responsibilities as care-giver and provider.
You will agree to become an 'at-home' mother to Adrian so that he
will be adequately supervised until such time as he reaches his
eighteenth birthday."
"That's ridiculous! I need to work so that I can pay bills, buy
clothing... food..."
"That is the financial aspect we were just discussing. So long as
both you and your brother comply with the provisions of the
non-disclosure agreements, and you are an 'at-home' guardian, Ms.
Thompson agrees to underwrite your full living expenses, up to
and including five years of university for Adrian, which should
see him through an undergraduate degree. At that time, she will
entertain providing funds for graduate work, should his grades
and commitment warrant her continued support. Additionally,
should you wish to attend graduate school while you hold
guardianship, my client will also agree to pay those associated
costs so long as it does not distract from your supervision of
your brother."
"You have got to be kidding. That would be a great deal of money
- almost forty thousand dollars a year."
"That's probably a low number, given the cost of college these
days. However, Ms. Thompson has already established and fully
capitalized the necessary trust fund in your and your brother's
names, Ms. Braithwaite," Kenneth said, handing her a document.
"The final condition is the one you may find disagreeable, but it
is one about which Ms. Thompson is most emphatic."
"Oh?"
"Yes. You will agree to come to Kingston for a period of three
weeks and observe, covertly, your brother's training at Seasons
House. If, at the end of that period, you still feel that she is
abusing him, she will release him immediately to your care and
the other conditions of the agreement will take effect. If you
decide to allow her to continue the program, then she will still
turn the proceeds of the trust fund over to you. Either way, you
and your brother will have no financial worries for at least the
next seven years. This settlement contract," Kenneth passed a
thick document over to the stunned young woman, "details in
legalese what I just told you in plain language. You might wish
to have your own lawyer review it before you consider signing
it."
Anne Braithwaite could only stare at the stack of paper now in
front of her. She had never expected anything like this
settlement proposal to come of this meeting. *Now what do I do?*
She looked at the calm young attorney who was watching her with
strangely gentle eyes and then back down at the settlement
agreement. A question occurred to her. "Why?"
"Why is she making this offer? I already told you - because she
doesn't want anyone to be hurt by this."
"No, why are you doing this? You're defending her and it's more
than just your profession involved. Is it because you were her
student? Because you don't want it known that you were like my
brother and put into girls' clothing?"
"I am defending her because I believe in her and in what she does
for her boys," Kenneth said softly. "because I KNOW she helps
them."
Anne considered that as she scanned the document. "Your office?
It's in Providence?" Kenneth nodded, his eyes suddenly wary. "And
you say that you believe in her methods? That there is no
particular harm in a man or boy going out in public dressed as a
woman?" Again, Kenneth nodded.
"All right. Then prove it. Meet me in Providence in three days,
publicly dressed as a woman. Put your reputation where your mouth
is."
"Wha... a... at?!?" Kenneth stuttered.
A wickedly self-satisfied smile curled Anne Braithwaite's mouth.
"I'll agree to your settlement, Mr. Lawyer-man, but," she said
standing up and stuffing papers into her own briefcase. "You will
meet me at my hotel, in your feminine persona, and escort me to
your Ms. Thompson's house for my three week observation period."
"But, Ms. Braithwaite, I've... grown...I mean, I'm not..."
"That's my deal, Mr. Roberts!" she cut him off. "You will meet me
and escort me in your feminine role. Fail in that, sir, and we
will meet again. In court. Good day, Mr. Roberts, or perhaps, I
should say, Good day, Miss Roberts."
The door closed behind her well before Kenneth could manage to
close the mouth that had gaped in shock.
Chapter 6 - Family Conference
He needed nearly half the trip to the airport just to get his
emotions under control. She wanted him to show up at her hotel,
en femme? As Kendra? *But I haven't been able to be Kendra since
I hit that growth spurt,* his mind railed. *Cripes, I'm six feet
three inches tall - even without heels I will stand out like a
sore thumb! And I don't want to look like a freak - don't want
Kendra to look like a freak - that's why I wouldn't agree to be a
'male-of-honor' at Janice's little reversed wedding ceremony.*
*But Momma-Jane's program, and more importantly, her entire
lifestyle might be at stake in all this,* he reminded himself
sternly.
It was just too much. "DAMN!" he exploded.
"Yo, somethin' wrong, Mister?" the cabbie asked, looking into his
rearview mirror and nearly rear-ending the Postal Service truck
he'd been tailgating.
Kenneth realized that he'd spoken aloud and grinned sheepishly.
"Sorry - bad meetings. Still a bit... annoyed."
"No prob, Mac. We'll be at the airport in a few minutes. You want
me to go to departures?"
"No, I'm on a charter flight." Kenneth gave him the name and
location of the private operator's facility and then pulled out
his satellite cell-phone. He punched the speed dial and listened
as the connection was made.
"Nash, here."
"Mike? Ken. Look, I'm on my way to the airport for the flight
back to Providence. I need to meet with you, Darryl, Jane, Marie
and Art as soon as I get back. Can you call around and set that
up?"
"No problem. When will you be back?"
"A few hours - no later than supper time."
"Okay. How do we get the word to you?"
"I'll call Momma Jane as soon as I'm on the ground in
Providence."
"Good enough. Anything else?"
"Yeah, I learned something that might be important, but I need to
check it out. Do you have the number for the Chalet handy?"
"Somewhere..." Michael's voice trailed away and Kenneth could
hear the sounds of papers rustling and drawers opening and
closing. "Here it is. Ready to copy?"
Kenneth entered the number into his digital pocket organizer,
thanked his 'Thompson-brother' and then broke the connection.
With practiced ease, he programmed the phone number of the Marisa
Chalet into his cell-phone's speed dial memory and then made the
call.
"Marisha Chalet, this is Caro."
"Carolyn, Hi! It's Kenneth. I need you to check something for me
and pass what you find to Jane, okay? And then I need to talk to
Sandy. Great. Here's what I need you to do..."
~-~
They met in the old groom's apartment over the stables - the one
that Jane had converted into a combination exercise room for
Art/Diana and as a "home away from Seasons House" for members of
her family when a junior student's presence precluded them being
accommodated at the manor house. Jessica was at the house
watching over Adrienne's walking excursion with Mr. Webster.
"So, she's agreed to the visit?" Jane asked, after Kenneth had
given his slightly edited report. "She'll be here?"
"In three days, or so she tells me. She's still not convinced,
Jane," he warned her. "We're not out of the woods yet, and I
think we are, at best, 50/50 for staying out of court with this.
She strikes me as the 'do the right thing because it is the right
thing to do' type."
"Oh, god, not another idealist," Diana groaned, turning to stare
at her wife with comical disgust.
"Just like Momma-Jane, Daddy-Di," Kenneth assured her. "Two peas
out of the same pod."
"If we could PLEASE get back to the issue at hand," Jane said
sternly, and then watched as Darryl, Kenneth, Michael and Marie
dissolved into giggles. "Well, I'm glad that still works with the
new ones, anyway."
"I'm sorry, Mom," Kenneth replied, just a bit sheepishly. "Look,
I think she's smart enough and open enough that she'll see what
you do and come to appreciate the value in that. However, she
loves her brother and there seems to be some guilt there that she
couldn't keep him out of trouble, so she's inclined to come
charging to his rescue."
"What you are saying, son," Diana said in Art's voice, "Is that
if she doesn't see the good in what Jane does, she won't take the
rest of the deal?"
"I don't think so, Dad. If she thinks we're in the wrong here, my
guess is she will not accept the settlement and go to court. Not
to take us for more money, but to stop Momma Jane, once and for
all."
The room became very quiet, only to be broken by Darryl's soft,
"Damn!"
"Just so," Jane said with a sigh. She stood up and walked over to
the room's large picture window and looked at the late-evening
shadowed silhouette of Seasons House. "It is just possible that
is the correct solution, you know. Maybe it is time I retired as
the School Mistress of Seasons House. Lord knows that I have so
much else I could be doing with my time these days. I have a
husband now, children who are my own in everything except
genetically which hardly counts. It might be nice to pack up and
head off with Art and Marie the next time he's sent off to
someplace like Bosnia."
"Over my dead and bleeding body," Art snapped.
"Then don't go yourself, husband," Jane said steadily, still
staring out into the twilight-softened landscape. "Whither thou
goest, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera."
Michael stood up and came over to Jane. "Mom? If you really want
to retire, then that's what we want for you. If you're doing it
before you are ready, and if you think you've failed because
there are still kids you should be helping, then screw that
noise!"
"Michael!" Jane sputtered.
"Like you've never heard words like that?" Darryl replied. "I
agree with Mike. You really want to retire, great. Better than
great, in fact."
"Oh?" The famous "Thompson-brow" cocked up at her grinning,
adopted son. "And just WHY, pray-tell, would that be 'better than
great'?"
"Because Audrey could use some Motherly support and help just
now." Darryl paused to make sure he had everyone's full
attention. "We're expecting."
"Expecting what?" Kenneth asked without thinking and then gaped
at his brother. "As in... ex-PECTING? Like in, BABIES?"
"Well, we hope it's just one right now, but yeah, that's what I
mean. So what do you think, Mom? Ready to be the prettiest,
doting-est, spoiling-est grandmother in Rhode Island?" Darryl
asked, grinning up at his Mother mischievously.
His answer was swirl of silk, a waft of Obsession, and a fiercely
loving hug that bid fair to rob him of his breath.
"I guess that's a yes?" Darryl squeaked.
There were joyful tears in Jane's eyes when she finally let go.
"Oh, god, yes, that's a yes! When?"
Darryl blushed. "Oh, about 6 and a half months from now. We
started trying on our first anniversary. Guess we needed the
practice."
The next several minutes were spent in the happy chatter of a
loving family discussing the impending birth of first of a new
generation, until Jane, being Jane, pulled herself back to the
issue that had brought them together. "So, you think she may
still go to court. What does that mean?"
"I think that any criminal case she tries can't win. Your
supporters are too well placed and if necessary, I will subpoena
them to prove our case. The civil case is chancier, but even
there, I think it's a given that we'd win on appeal. However,
your school would be dead - the media and the scandal sheets
would bury it."
"I've always known that was a possibility."
"I think," Kenneth went on, "That the real threat is to Judge
Ruth. Impeachment is done by politicians, and the trial
subsequent to a bill of impeachment is also done by politicians.
I don't know, but my guess is that the legislature is likely to
impeach and convict, regardless of the legal validity of our
arguments. It would become a media circus and there is no way she
could come out of it with anything like justice."
"You believe she'd be the real loser in all this?"
"Her, A