On Becoming Miss Louisa Harper Of New York And Newport 2 free porn video

From 'The Autobiography of Miss Louisa Harper' ~ "Beauty comes from pain, Louisa. A proper young woman does not present herself unless she is properly coiffed, properly made-up, properly attired and wearing the proper accoutrements. That, Louisa, is what 'proper' means." Of course, I tried to argue. That is, after all, what an adolescent is supposed to do, but my mother would just purse her lips, shake her head in disgust and repeat that one sentence that she spoke most frequently in her life. "Pain leads to beauty, Louisa." When I tried to reason with her by explaining that I wanted to be dressed and presented properly, but that I had things that I wanted to say as well, she would just reply that, "Young women should be seen and not heard." Then she'd look to my personal maid and dictate her decrees. "Erin, I want my daughter scrubbed, coiffed, made-up, dressed and in the north sitting room in one hour or she will be sent off to boarding school and you will be looking for employment elsewhere. Am I making myself crystal clear?" Erin would, of course, respond with a courtesy and 'Yes, Ma'm' then turn to me and lovingly chastise me through a thick brogue. I would always concede to Erin's demands, though, because despite my parents providing me with a reasonable amount of affection, several palatial homes and more beautiful clothing than any twelve young women could wear, it was Erin who had shown me patience, love, friendship and understanding. Erin had raised me. XXX Quinn found sleeping with a head full of curlers to be very difficult. The stiff plastic things cut into his head when he put any weight on them at all. Since he still had the adjustable bed that had been installed in his bedroom during his convalescence, he eventually figured out that if he raised the head of the bed about halfway and used a neck pillow, he could finally get some sleep. When he woke the next morning, he was shocked to find that during the night he had rolled onto his side and had been sleeping on the curlers after all. Maybe Ann had been correct - it was possible. It just took some getting used to. He got up and went to the small upstairs lavatory and relieved himself, enjoying the feel of the nightie and panties. He was sitting and relieving himself, sitting did seem most appropriate, when he realized that he had actually woken up, gotten out of bed, walked a bout twenty feet and had not once felt a twinge of back pain. This waist shaper had done a great job of supporting his weak back. That was a huge bonus. "Oh, good," Ann smiled as she exited her bedroom and meet her brother in the hallway, her head tilted to the side as she installed an earring for the day, "you're up. I just got off the phone with Barbie. She says that you should leave the curlers in for now. Someone will take them out at Golden Bluffs. How did you sleep?" "It took a while, but eventually I got comfortable." "Good." Ann looked at him and gave a little smile. "You even look cute in the morning. This look really suits you." Quinn shook his head at her teasing. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. I'm just doing this for the job, Annie." "I know. How's your back?" "Actually, its really good," he wiggled his shoulders from side to side to show he wasn't in pain. "I think I should get a few more of these. Maybe some without the gold buttons." "Good," Ann nodded. "I thought that you might like it, so I ordered three more for you off of Amazon last night while we watched the movie. They'll be here this afternoon." "Thanks." "I also ordered you a dozen pairs of panties, four nighties and a couple of slips." "Why?" Quinn was very surprised. "Well," Annie shrugged. "You looked so comfortable and happy last night, I just wanted to help you. Besides, you can't keep wearing mom's old stuff." Quinn walked to his room, his head shaking. "You're a piece of work, Annie." "Maybe so, but I bet that, pretty darned quickly, you'll be happy that I ordered you everything. A girl needs a big sister to help her out." She laughed at her own joke. "I have to get going in about ten minutes. Barbie's going to pick you up in a half hour." "Ok!" And so, just about thirty minutes later, Barbara came in the front door, smiling at Quinn's hair and scarf once again. "Are you ready for your big day, Quinny?" He stood and took a deep breath. "I guess. I am a little nervous, though." "What are you wearing!?" Barbara burst out with a laugh. "Who's pants are those?" "Mine," Quinn answered, confused. "Why?" "Because they don't fit," she shook her head. "Quinn, the waist is miles too big! Your hips are the only thing holding them up." She pulled the waist of the pants higher on him, but it didn't help. "You look like, what they called in Louisa's day, a raga-muffin." "Huh," Quinn pulled on the pants a bit, too. "They fit fine yesterday. Maybe it's the waist trainer I'm wearing..." "You're wearing a corset, now!?" She had an odd smile on her face. "Why?" "It's not a corset, Barbara, it's a waist trainer..." "Potatoes - po-tah-toes," Barbara giggled. "Why are you wearing one now?" "For my back. It feels better with support." "Ok. I get that, but if you're going to wear a corset, or trainer, or whatever you want to call them, all the time, then you're going to need to update your wardrobe a bit." "Yeah?" Quinn looked at his pants. "Are they ok for now?" "Sure," Barbara straightened his loose sweatshirt over the top of the poorly fitting pants. "I'll take some measurements and I'll text Annie to get something for you to wear to your class tonight." "Ok, thanks," he nodded and followed Barbara out the door. As he opened the passenger door, he suddenly realized what Barbara had said. "Did you say I had a class tonight?" "Oh... yeah. I probably should have explained that, sorry," Barbara said, very matter of factly, as she slipped into the car. When she just put the car in reverse and didn't offer any further information, Quinn finally asked, "What kind of a class do I have to take?" Barbara sighed. "Ok, look... I didn't mention this last night because I didn't know if I could set it up fast enough, but I called a friend and they are willing to fit you in. So, you'll need to go to these classes tonight, tomorrow and Thursday, then again on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday of next week. Maybe that'll be enough, but, if not, you still might need a few more after that. And it's no big deal, Quinn. It's just a skill that you'll need as Louisa." "Ok, fine, but what kind of class is it?" Barbara avoided looking at him. "It's... a dance class, Quinny, but..." "A DANCE CLASS!?" Quinn was really taken aback by that. "Like what? Ballet dancing? Barbara, I'm not putting on a tutu or something and going out in public! I'm not taking a dance class!" Still avoiding eye contact, Barbara said, "Quinny, Quinny, calm down. It's not that kind of a dance class. It's a ballroom dance class. You know... It teaches you to waltz and polka and things like that. It'll be fun, Quinny. I promise." "Yeah, well, you say that a lot," he shook his head. "Why do I need to take this class?" "Well, as you know, Louisa and the Harper family are always the hosts of the weddings that take place at Golden Bluffs and, well... Louisa always dances with her father at the weddings. You need to learn how to do that." "She dances with her father? You never mentioned that!?" Quinn had never danced in his whole life! The idea of being on a dance floor at all was pretty sobering - let alone being led around by an older man who was holding him. "It's no big deal, Quinn. It's usually just a couple of songs. A waltz and maybe one other song. It breaks up the monotony of just sitting at there all afternoon." "But, Barbara! I've never danced with anyone before!" "Hence the ballroom dance classes." "But I might look like an idiot!" "Again - 'Hence.' What are you so worked up about, Quinn? It's a just wedding. That's what people do at weddings - they dance. All you need to do is learn a few steps and everything will be great. One of the many advantages to being a girl is that you just follow the man when you dance. They lead and you follow. It's easy." "But I'm not a girl..." "Well, that's open to discussion, but for the purposes of your job as Louisa, you most assuredly are a girl and you need to be able to do the most basic dance moves to be convincing. Six lessons is probably four more than you'll need if you concentrate and work hard, but the extra time on the dance floor will give you more confidence." He heaved a huge sigh as the pulled into the employee parking area at Golden Bluffs. The idea of some dance instructor who knew that Quinn would be portraying a woman laying hands on his hip, or back, or whatever, and leading him around a dance floor just seemed humiliating. Barbara stopped the car and shifted it into park before turning to look at Quinn. "Look, Quinn... some jobs require people to stand in a trench that's half filled with cold water in the middle of winter so a water pipe can be repaired, right? Some require people to use dangerous tools that can maim or even kill them. This job requires a you to look pretty, move gracefully, wear amazingly beautiful clothing, smile, be a generous hostess and have the ability to glide around the gilded grand ballroom of one of the most beautiful homes in the world. So, yeah, we're asking you to wear your hair a bit more elaborately than most men, and wear... well, let's call it 'a uniform...' that is a little unconventional for a man, but is also beautiful, soft and silky. Compared to a lot of other jobs in this world, it's not all that bad, is it?" He shook his head. "And, by the way, when your taking the classes, you'll be on the clock. So, since each class is two hours long, that's an extra twelve hours added to your paycheck this week and next." "Really?" That was appealing. "Really. So... are we on the same page, now?" "Yeah, ok," Quinn agreed. "Good," she opened her car door. "Let's go. We have a lot to do." Quinn followed obediently while just hoping that none of this got too humiliating. Barbara walked past a salon chair and patted the seat with her hand. "Have a seat here while I grab my iPad." He sat and a moment later, Barbara was back and holding her iPad in front of him. The screen displayed a very famous photograph of the head and shoulders of Louisa Harper wearing a puffy sleeved, lace covered, silk blouse with her hair piled high in a 'Gibson Girl' style that was popular with young women of the day. The picture had been colorized, though, and the process had enhanced the young woman's features and makeup. "This is what we're shooting for, Quinny. Now, for today and the next few days, I'll do your makeup for you, but the goal is for you to do it yourself. I actually have a tutorial video in the Golden Bluffs private group on YouTube. I'll send you an invitation. Watch it a lot and practice at home. On Friday, you have to do it yourself." "Great," Quinn shook his head, "yet another thing I've never done before that I have to master in the next few days." 'It's just dancing and makeup, Quinn. I'm not asking for all that much, am I?" "And setting my own hair. Annie made it clear that I had to learn how to do that myself, too." Barbara smiled. "Speaking of which, let's get those curlers out." She undid the silk scarf he was wearing and spread it out on Quinn's lap. "Leave that there. I'll put the curlers and clips in the scarf. Then we'll tie it up and you can take it home and you can set your hair again, tonight." "Ok," Quinn nodded, a little overwhelmed at the prospect of having to wear curlers for eight or ten hours every night, but resigned to do it if necessary. It only took a couple of minutes for Barbara to pull out all of the curlers. As she tied up the scarf in order to keep the curlers inside, she noticed that Quinn was looking at his reflection in the mirror mounted on the wall in front of him. "Nice, huh?" "Maybe if I was going to be an Irish step dancer." He was actually rather fascinated by the curls he now sported. Maybe not as extreme as a step dancer's curls, but they were tight enough to give him pause. The curls, the red hair, the pale, freckled skin - he looked like he could be one of the Irish immigrant maids at Golden Bluffs back during Louisa Harper's day. Barbara chuckled. "Come on. It's not that bad. Once I brush it out, I think you'll be happy with it. Then I'll put it up for you." Without a word, Barbara went to work on his hair with a large brush. She was brushing harder than he was used to, but she was being as gentle as she could. With the exception of a few grunts of frustration and some huffs and puffs, she worked without any comment, remaining focused on her goal of full body from his head to his shoulders with rich waves below. She'd brush and spray and brush and spray and underbrush and spray and brush and spray, again. It seemed to take quite a while, but it was only about twenty five minutes of work before she stopped and nodded at her work. "What do you think?" She asked as she smiled at him through the mirror. "I... I..." Quinn was completely blown away by the woman looking back at him in his reflection. "I'm not sure what to think. I never thought my hair could look like that." "Pretty, right?" "Well, yeah, but... maybe a bit too pretty for a guy." Barbara smiled. "No guys here, sweetie. You are Louisa Harper of New York and Newport, fifteen year old debutante, poetess, bon vivant, socialite and one of the most beautiful women in The United States in the year of our Lord eighteen hundred and ninety. No more talk about 'guys,' Quinny. Get all thoughts of that kind out of your pretty, little head. Just look at yourself in that mirror. That is one pretty girl, there, and she's not even wearing makeup, yet. So... any questions?" "Actually, yeah. I do have one question." Quinn said, still focused on his reflection. "And what is that?" He turned and looked at Barbara. "What's a bon vivant?" Barbara laughed. "A bon vivant is someone who enjoys 'the good life,' and I assure you, Louisa enjoyed 'the good life.' And you know what, Quinny - when you're portraying Louisa, you can live a little of 'the good life,' too. So, relax and enjoy it." Quinn looked at the beautiful hair flowing down his back and nodded. Barbara grabbed a small bowl filled with Bobby-pins and instructed him to stay still as she worked. She worked quickly and with the confidence of someone who'd done this a million times before. Quinn just watched in amazement as his newly luxurious hair was piled into neat, wide rolls of perfectly symmetrical sculptures of curves with a beautifully tied knot of hair at the top center. He looked... like Louisa in her Gibson Girl style. This was a lot to take in. It just shouldn't be this easy to make him look this way. He'd never imagined that it was possible for him to look this pretty with so little effort. Barbara sprayed a good amount of hairspray onto his hair and touched it lightly to guide stray hairs into the sculpture. "It will feel like you're wearing a big hat until you get used to it, but like everything, it's not that big a deal." Quinn didn't respond at all. He just kept turning his head from side to side to see the beautiful hairdo. "Ok," Barbara sighed, "before I start the makeup, there are just a couple of things I need to do and... well, these things might hurt just a little bit." "Hurt?" That got Quinn's attention. "Just a bit and only for a second," she assured him. "I'm going to have you lean back in the seat, now." Reluctantly, Quinn leaned back as Barbara pulled a lever to allow the back of the chair to lower. The chair had a neck support that held his head comfortably without touching his hair. When he was reclined, Barbara held up a gun shaped tool and then showed an earring with a clear stone in it to Quinn. "Listen carefully, Quinny. These earrings are real diamonds. Not the very highest quality, but they are real, and they are replicas of a pair that Louisa was photographed wearing in eighteen eighty eight when she was thirteen. By the time she was fifteen, Louisa routinely wore lavaliere style earrings - you know, like pendants - but to do the piercings, I need to use studs and these are the ones that look like Louisa's. So, please, please, please... DO. NOT. LOSE. THEM!" "Is this really necessary," Quinn asked. "I mean... did women really pierce their ears in eighteen ninety?" "They sure did," Barbara smirked and nodded, a little amused at his fear of the little pinch involved in piercing an ear. "Screw back earrings didn't come around until the nineteen thirties. In fact, we know from her mother's diary that Louisa's ears were pierced when she was two days old so that she could wear tiny pearl earrings to her own baptism. So, if a two day old baby can stand to have her ears pierced, it'll be easy for a grown up girl like you." She loaded the Diamond stud into the gun and situated it on his left earlobe. "On three, ok?" She said. "One... two," she pulled the trigger and inserted the stud in his ear, "... three." She smiled at Quinn. "Easy, right?" Quinn blinked at the strange, but not painful sensation of having a hole created in his body. "I barely felt it." "Good. One more to go." When the other earring was installed, Barbara looked at him and smiled at him in a sympathetic, understanding way. "Ok... now... your eyebrows." "Are you going to pluck them?" Quinn was a little fearful of not just the process of plucking them, but the result of having to live with women's eyebrows. "I think that might be going just a bit too far." Barbara nodded. "I understand, but I'm not going to make them those thin, highly arched brows that a lot of girls wear now. These will just look like they've been neatened up. Really, it won't look any worse than the sculpted brows that many guys wear. Trust me, honey. I won't make you look like a freak." He sighed deeply and shrugged. "Ok, then." She took her time and gently and carefully spread warm wax across Quinn's, not bushy, but not groomed, eyebrows, then applying small strips of white cotton cloth to the wax. Then she took two small baggies and placed a few ice cubes in each. Then... nothing. "What are you doing now?" He asked. "The wax needs to cool enough to adhere to your eyebrows and the cloth." "And then what?" Barbara just looked at her watch and said nothing. "Barbara? I asked you... OUCH!" Without any warning, she pulled the cotton cloth and wax from his face, ripping out the unwanted hair from his eyebrow. "Judas Priest, Barbara! That really... OUCH!" She pulled the other one off. "Come on! A little warning would have been nice!" Barbara smiled as she grabbed the small bags of ice and placed them on his brows. "If I'd warned you, the anticipation of the pain would have made it so much worse. Now, take five minutes to hold, that ice on your wounded face, then it's back to work. I'm going to send Annie a text about picking up something for you to wear to your class tonight." It wasn't long before Quinn was sitting up straight, again, and listening as Barbara worked through his makeup plan. "It's a myth that women in the Gilded Age didn't wear makeup. They didn't wear an awful lot and they kept is subtle, but a wealthy young lady like Louisa definitely would take advantage of the cosmetics available to her and lipstick was very fashionable. They learned to mix carmine dye with oil and wax and created a less theatrical, more natural looking lip dye. When we get to lips, we'll use a modern product, but it won't look too audacious - just pretty." Then she went to work. She evened out his skin tone with a base. "We use these colors to emphasize the soft, roundness of your cheeks and just a touch of color to your eyes to make them pop a bit. No eye liner, but some mascara to bring fullness to your lashes. Not a ton of ornamentation, but just enough to turn a wallflower into fashion plate. There." She stepped back so he could see himself clearly. "What do you think?" "To tell you the truth... I don't know what to think." The elaborately piled hair, the sculpted eyebrows, the diamond earrings, the subtle makeup... it all created a beautiful young woman where Quinn should have been. "I didn't think this was possible." "Oh, ye of little faith." She bent low beside him so that their faces were side by side as they looked in the mirror. "I told you you'd look great. From now on, trust me." She gave his cheek a peck. "Come on. Typically, Louisa wears a day dress around the museum and the truly fancy gowns are reserved for functions. So, what I'd like to do is have you try on five or six day dresses and I can make sure that they all fit well. Then, after lunch, I'd just like to check a couple of the gowns so I'm sure that you'll be the princess of Newport next weekend. Sound good?" "I guess," he said as casually as possible. In fact, Quinn was having a hard time staying casual. He was finding all this girlish activity strangely exciting. His body was starting to feel electric with titillation. His spine tingled with excitement and not just because Barbara was fawning over him, although he did enjoy that quite a bit. This was all due to the way he was changing. The way that the clothing he wore yesterday had changed him. The way that the removal of his body hair and the curlers had changed him. The way that the makeup and hairdo had changed him. It was all... erotic... in a way he never expected it to be. Oddly, though, despite his erotic state, his body was reacting differently than he would have expected. Instead of feeling his excitement in his groin and having that centralized excitement result in the stiffening of his manhood, he felt no manhood at all. He remained limp and un-engorged, but he desired more of those wonderful, girlish tingles. What was wrong with him? This couldn't be right, could it? No matter. He just wanted to feel just like he felt now, only more so. XXX From 'The Autobiography of Miss Louisa Harper' ~ Dressing was not just an art for me, it was an exquisite ritual in which my corporeal form was treated as a goddess of beauty and grace. My mother provided the softest, most beautiful clothing for me so that I might add to the grandiose elegance of the palatial world that was Golden Bluffs. I reveled in the feelings of being an object of desire. A virginal idol to enhance the alabaster and marble diorama of excess and opulence that my parents had created. If there was a softest cotton, I wore it. If there was a silk that shone more perfectly in the candle light than any other, I had a gown made from it. If there was a most elegantly and delicately constructed piece of lace, it belonged to me. At fourteen, I was an awkward, curve-less drone of no use to anyone. On my fifteenth birthday, for the first time, I was made-up, dressed up, polished up and held up as a work of art. For better or for worse, that moment changed my life and transformed me from whatever I had been before into Rodin's 'Danaide,' and Degas' 'Little Dancer,' and Milo's 'Venus' in the course of just a few hours. From that moment on, regardless of my other thoughts and convictions, 'dress' became my one true passion in life. XXX Quinn was less shy than he'd been the previous day, just turning his back to Barbara as he stripped to his skin and pulled on a clean combination. This one was as soft, lace covered and beautiful as yesterday's had been, but where the combination he had worn the previous day had been secured with the aid of several white satin ribbons, this day's combination featured bright pink satin ribbons that gave the lingerie an even more feminine appearance. Once the combination was buttoned and the ribbons tied, he slipped on the thigh high, black, silk stockings and, with Barbara's help, secured them with wide, pink satin ribbons tied in wide bows. The heeled ankle boots that required a button hook to secure the eight tiny, black jet buttons on each boot came next. Then another beige corset was secured around his torso and Barbara once again pulled whatever extra skin he possessed up above the top of the top of the satin covering, once again creating little blossoms of breasts. The bustle pad, a lace covered corset cover, the thick inner petticoat, the thin outer one and then the silk lace blouse with the wide puffed upper sleeves and the tight lower was buttoned up his back and up his forearms. A silver-grey, floor length skirt with a subtle floral pattern was added and, finally, a matching vest that hugged his middle tightly, but bloused loosely above was buttoned into place. Barbara looked at her finished product and raised and lowered he eye brows appreciatively. "Well, my little friend, I must admit that even I am impressed. You look... scrumptious, Quinny. Honestly, you look better than Lesley did in these clothes - and I made them for her. Come take a look." She guided Quinn to a tall, three sided mirror to the side of her workshop, allowing the mesmerized boy to stare at his reflection and take in the Gilded Age beauty he'd become and the implications of his fascination with his new image. 'Wow..." he whispered. "I know," Barbara laughed. "Pretty awesome, right?" Quinn ran his hands over the soft material, feeling his new shape beneath, and felt those same tingles all over his skin, again. "Did Louisa Harper actually wear these clothes?" "Well, yea and no. The original version of this dress is part of the museum collection, but this is a reproduction that I made from a pattern I made based on the original." "You made this?" Quinn asked, impressed. "Yeah, Quinny. That's what I do. I'm in charge of the textiles and fashion. I maintain and recreate the clothing, draperies... even the napkins that were used at Golden Bluffs in Louisa's time. That's what I studied at RISD when I went away to college." The Rhode Island School of Design, known as 'Rizz-Dee' due to its initials, was one of the nations most prestigious and most important art institutes and Barbara had not only attended RISD, but had also finagled herself an internship in The UK with the costuming company that had dressed the cast of a very popular television show that took place during the Edwardian Period. That position had trained her well and she returned to Golden Bluffs ready to do away with the poorly made costumes that had become the norm at all of the Mansion Row attractions. Golden Bluffs was now renown for the authentic clothing worn by all of its staff in general and the clothing worn by all three Louisas in particular - especially the intricate clothing provided for Louisa 1. "So? Do you like how you look?" That was a very loaded question because he didn't just like the way he looked, Quinn was completely enthralled by the way he looked, but saying so would betray his manhood. A man, a real man, would be disgusted that he could look like this. A real man would just shake his head and undo all of this female foolishness. A real man would scoff at all of this foolish feminine frilly-ness and storm out of that place right then and there, and walk directly to a barber shop to have all of that ridiculous hair shaved off of his head. Yeah. That's what a real man would do. So, what was Quinn? He had been a rough and tumble, aggressive, high scoring soccer player before the accident. He admired the tough players who left their blood and sweat on the field. The ones that ran headlong into their opponents and led their teams to victory through strength and pain. That's what a real man was - tough. And that's what Quinn was. Quinn was tough. He was a real man and he knew that no amount of money was worth giving up who he was. This... this image he saw looking back at him wasn't a man. This was... a woman... no... not even a woman... this was a girl. A feeble, empty headed little girl. A bauble. A decoration. A doll. Enough was enough. It was time to tell Barbara and Carolyn and Ann that he wasn't going to do this anymore. That he was a real man and no man - no REAL man would submit to being reduced to the position of being a girl. With his mind made up, he took a deep breath, but then the tingles came back. The soft, elegant, addictive tingles that felt like a billion, little butterflies on his skin, all flapping their wings a once, and his proclamation of manhood reclaimed came out differently than he'd intended. "I... I'm not going to... I can't..." he swallowed hard. "I... can't believe that's me. I'm..." he looked at Barbara, who was a couple of inches taller than him, even with him in heels and Barbara in sneakers, and he suddenly felt smaller than he'd even felt in his life. Smaller and... weaker and... softer and... right. "I love it, Barbara. I love it." Barbara smiled. "I'm glad, Quinny. You look really good. Tell you what, let's take a walk up to Louisa's suite and see how the clothes feel when you move. I'll introduce you to the crew that work up there. It'll give you a little break from primping and dressing and then we'll come back and get everything else tried on. Looking at the way that fits you, though, I don't think I'm going to have to make many alterations." "Ok," he started to follow, but stopped. "Wait! What are we going to say my name is?" Barbara giggled. "We'll say your name is Quinn, silly. No one really got to meet you before, right? Quinn is an adorable name for a girl." Ok, that was true, Quinn was a girl's name, too, but the 'adorable' remark was a little tough to take for a moment or two. He stopped again. "What about my voice?" Barbara shook her head and grabbed her cell phone and a copy of a pamphlet put out by the local tourism council. She opened the voice recorder app and handed the pamphlet to Quinn. "Read the description of one of the mansions." He looked at the pamphlet and began reading. "The Breakers: Cornelius Vanderbilt II purchased the grounds in 1885 for $450,000 ($12.8 million today). The previous mansion on the property was owned by Pierre Lorillard IV; it burned on November 25, 1892 and Vanderbilt commissioned famed architect Richard Morris Hunt to rebuild it in splendor." At that point, Barbara took the pamphlet and continued reading. "Vanderbilt insisted that the building be made as fireproof as possible, so the structure of the building used steel trusses and no wooden parts. He even required that the boiler be located away from the house in an underground space below the front lawn." She stopped the recorder and looked at Quinn. "Now, listen to our voices when I play this back." Quinn paid attention and pretty quickly realized Barbara's point. His voice and hers were not so different sounding. In fact, Barbara's may have been pitched just a little lower than his. "I sound like a girl?" He asked, a bit surprised. "You sound perfect to portray a girl, Quinny. Come on." XXX Ann used her bottom to push open the door to the old servants' dinning room that Barbara used as a workshop at Golden Bluffs. She'd been to this workshop five or six times since Barbara took over the space as her work area. Barbara had sewn Ann a number of pieces of clothing, including a lovely suit to wear to an awards ceremony last year. So, every time that Ann had left Golden Bluffs, she'd always had new clothing draped over her arm. This was the first time, though, that she was arriving with new clothes. Barbara had told her to pick up these items for Quinn, but Ann had her doubts that they would get him to put them on without a fight. A costume was one thing. This wasn't a costume. This was clothing. There was a difference. "Barbie?" Ann called as she entered the space that was, well, maybe not quite cluttered, but busy and filled with clothes racks. Barbara appeared from behind one of the racks, smiling. "Hey, Annie!" She kissed her friend's cheek and took one of her bags from her. "Were you able to get everything?" "Yeah," she nodded as she looked around. When she was sure that Quinn was not nearby, she said, in a low voice, "I don't think you're going to get him into these things very easily." Barbara laughed a big stomach laugh. "I will bet you any amount of money that we only meet minimal resistance." Ann was surprised. "Well, I would take that bet if I hadn't just spent every penny in my checking account on all of these things for Quinn." Barbara's eyes opened wide. "Oh, Annie, I'm sorry! I wasn't even thinking. Here," she grabbed her pocketbook, "let me give you something towards that." Ann shook her head as she placed the bags on a work table. "No, no. I don't need any money. Payday is just two days away. We'll be fine until then. Thanks, though." She looked around. "So... where's Quinn?" Barbara smiled with a twinkle in her eyes. "Come see." Ann followed her into the public area of the museum. It wouldn't be open for the season until Saturday, but all of the furniture had been uncovered and polished in anticipation of the guests. They continued on, into the dinning room area where they found two women in beautiful, Gilded Age dresses sitting at the enormous table. The older woman instructed the younger. "Much better, but remember - you're never to just flop into a chair. If your hands are full, remember to swing yourself into position so that your long skirts follow you into the chair, then gently place yourself into the chair and always keep your back perfectly straight. Now, show me, again, how I taught you to pour the tea." The younger woman remained bolt upright as she leaned ever so slightly forward and lifted a saucer with a cup, then poured water from a silver tea pot into the cup, placed the pot down, then passed the filled cup on its saucer to the older woman. "Excellent, dear. You're doing extremely well." The older woman wore a lovely yet fairly unadorned, white blouse with pale blue skirt. The younger wore a much more beautiful silk blouse that dripped with lace covering every inch of the garment, from its gently scooped neckline, to its enormously puffed upper sleeves, loose fitting lower sleeves and frilly lace cuffs, to where the blouse disappeared into the waist line of her less-pale blue skirt that was embroidered with intricate little flowers. It was like a scene from an expensive movie and Ann could certainly appreciate the amount of effort it took to create the scene, but she was uncertain as to why she was watching it play out before her. "So... where is Quinn?" She whispered to Barbara. Her friend gave a very satisfied smile, then held up one finger, indicating that Ann should wait a moment. Barbara then entered the dining room and said, "Excuse me, Mrs Harper, but Miss Ann Collins us here to see you." Ann was caught off guard when she heard this, but when the older woman said, "How lovely. Please show her in," she was even more surprised. "Very good, ma'm,"Barbara said, then returned to the doorway and whispered, "Walk over to Mrs Harper just do as you are told." Ann looked at her friend, confused for a moment, then did as she was told. "Ahh, Miss Collins," the woman playing Mrs Harper looked up and smiled regally, "how very nice of you to join us. I do apologize that our staff is not here to greet you, but please do take a seat." As the very confused Special Education teacher took a seat, the ersatz Mrs Harper continued. "It is Ann is it not? So nice to meet you, I am Winnifred Harper, and I believe that you have met my daughter, Louisa, have you not?" "So very lovely to see you again, Miss Collins," the younger woman smiled in the way that only a beautiful child of culture possibly could as she gave Ann the slightest nod of her head. Ann was very confused. "Ummm... no I don't think that I've had the pl... Oh, my God! Quinn!? Is that really you!?" The younger woman's smile grew ever so slightly and for just a moment before her demeanor returned to its previous state. "Please, Miss Collins," the older woman said, after clearing her throat at her 'daughter's' ever so slight lapse of control over her behavior. "It is only four fifty in the afternoon. I believe there is a young woman named 'Quinn' expected to arrive at five, but until then... only Louisa and I are here." "I see..." Ann said, staring in shock at her little brother. She barely recognized him. The clothing, hair and makeup were so perfectly beautiful that she her brain could not properly register his identity. "Now, dear," Mrs Harper said to Louisa, "please tell our guest that charming story you were telling me earlier about your dress." "Yes, mother," the princess-like adolescent answered. Then she looked at Ann and in the most enthusiastic, female voice imaginable explained, "My father, Mister Winslow N. W. Harper, of Harper, Forbes and Bennet in New York City, recently returned from Paris with several books of sketches of the latest fashions for young women, and I saw a drawing that I absolutely ADORED and just HAD to have, but, as you know, if I were to order it from Paris, I would not have it until the season was over. So, I had our longtime family clothier make this dress based on the sketch in the book and I COULDN'T BE HAPPIER WITH THE RESULT!" "It is lovely, is it not, Miss Collins?" Mrs Harper asked Ann. "Oh... yes... yes. Quite... quite lovely," Ann said, but then she opted to get into the spirit of the moment and said, "Of course, anything would look beautiful on you, Miss Louisa." "Oh, aren't you the sweetest thing?" Miss Louisa smiled as she reached across the table and gave Ann's hand a soft squeeze. "Yes, Louisa, she certainly is," Mrs Harper smiled as a clock on the sideboard chimed the hour. "Ah. It is five o'clock." She rose and so did Louisa. It took Ann a moment to realize that she should stand as well. "Do walk with us, Miss Collins. I am sure that this Quinn person for whom you are searching will join us once we exit the salon. Is this your first visit to Golden Bluffs, Miss Collins?" 'What? Oh, no. I have been here many times before." Ann's attention was consumed by Quinn as he glided down the marble halls of the great house beside her. His arms were bent, his hands met in front of him and hung limply from his wrists as they clasped onto each other. He looked as if he'd lived in this house and in these clothes his whole life. This was Quinn! This absolutely breathtakingly beautiful, adolescent goddess was her twenty one year old brother! How was this possible. "Ah," Winnifred Harper said, as she reached a doorway on the far end of the salon, "here we are, Miss Collins, it was a pleasure to have met you. Please come back to Golden Bluffs many, many times. But for now... goodbye." She opened the door and stepped through it leaving Louisa and Ann in the salon. Ann just stood and looked confused until Louisa swung one of her elegantly attired arms towards the open doorway. "After you, Miss Collins." "Oh!" Ann jumped just a little. "Through there? Ok?" Louisa followed her through. Winnifred Harper was waiting inside, as matronly and imperious as she'd been just a moment before when saying goodbye to Ann, but if she was just waiting on the other side of the door, why had she said goodbye? Ann heard the sound of the door closing behind her and, all of a sudden, the matronly woman before her was gone and was replaced by a modern woman. Still dressed the same clothing, still with her hair pinned up, but without the stodgy attitude. She clapped her hands and hurried past Ann to Quinn and threw her arms around him. "Oh, Quinn! You were amazing, honey! Congratulations! You're going to be so great as Louisa!" She praised the beautiful boy. "Thanks!" Quinn laughed out loud at the effusive praise and the hug. "And thank you so much for coming in and helping me. This has been great." "Don't be silly," the woman waved her hand. "I miss this place something fierce when I'm not here. I enjoyed it." Then the woman looked at Ann and extended a hand. "Monica Reed. I play Winnifred here at Golden Bluffs." "Yeah, I figured that," Ann smiled and shook her hand. "Sorry about not breaking character out there, but that's the first rule of Golden Bluffs - Never break character until you're out of the public areas. Well? What do you think of your little sister as Louisa?" "I am speechless," Ann laughed. "Quinn, you were amazing - you LOOK amazing! Sound AMZING! I didn't even recognize you at first. You don't even move like yourself." "Yeah, Monica has been teaching me what she calls the 'Gilded Age Mid Atlantic Snob Accent.' It's pretty fun to speak that way, actually." "And this dress!" Ann gushed. "It's actually a blouse and skirt," he corrected. "Whatever," Ann said shaking her head. "My God, you never wore a dress a day in your life before yesterday and now you move like a real woman!" Quinn went silent and the room froze for a moment. Ann could tell from the look on her brother's face that she'd said the wrong thing. "You never wore a dress before yesterday?" Monica said, shocked. Quinn and Ann both felt a sense of terror pass over them, but it dissipated when Monica continued. "Your mother most have been one of those gender neutral people, huh? I get it, but how can you not put a pretty little girl in a dress? I mean, it's one of the joys of motherhood." "Oh, well," Ann found her footing again, "it wasn't so much mom as Quinn. I was always in dresses, but Quinn here was resistant to embracing her girly side until recently." "Oh, well you must be so happy to have your little sister at long last, and what a wonderful girl she is." Monica hugged Quinn once more. "I have to run. I'll be back tomorrow. If Barbara isn't torturing one of us with alterations, then we can practice some more." "Thank you, so much Monica." Quinn waited for the older woman to leave the space, then looked at Ann, held his arms to the side and asked, "Well?" "Oh, honey," Ann hugged him. "I cannot believe how great you look and the way you were acting in there... I am just floored!" Quinn beamed with joy at the praise. "Thanks. Do you like the outfit?" "It's amazing," Ann said as she touched the massive puffs on her arms and shoulders. "What's it like to wear something like this?" Quinn shrugged. "Kind of amazing, I guess. It just kind of makes you feel... well... beautiful, I guess. It's not like anything I've ever worn before." "So... you like it?" He made a comic grimace and answered, "I kind of love it." "That's great," Ann smiled and put her arm around him. "Come on. Let's get you changed. I have to get you to your dance class by seven and it's over in Saunderstown." Even with Barbara's aid, it still took nearly twenty minutes to get Quinn out of his clothes. Once again, not behaving shyly, he stood naked for a moment until Ann pulled something from a bag and handed it to Quinn. "Panties?" He asked, confused. "Why should I wear panties under my pants?" Ann looked at Barbara hoping she'd explain. After all, Quinn was more likely to acquiesce to Barbara than his sister. "Quinny," Barbara spoke with just enough patient condescension to make whatever came out of her mouth sound logical, "we talked about this earlier. It's better if people don't know that you're a boy while you're portraying Louisa, so you'll need to come and go looking like a girl." "Oh," Quinn considered that while looking at the soft pink panties with the white lace panel in the front. "Besides, you're about to go to your first ballroom dance class where you'll be learning to dance the woman's part, which is very different than the man's. Girl's need to learn to follow their partner while men need to lead. You don't want to show up for the class looking like a boy who is learning the girl's part, do you? Especially not looking like a boy who's clothes don't fit right because he's wearing a corset under them." He nodded. "Ok, I get it, but what if someone recognizes me? It'd be kind of embarrassing to have to explain why I'm dressed like a girl when I'm out in public." "I don't think that's likely, Quinn," Ann said, with no condescension. "Look, we'd only been living here a short time before the accident and you only had a few friends. After the accident, they disappeared, so the only people who have even seen you in the last seven years are Carolyn, Barbara and me." "And the hospital staff," he pointed out. "What if I run into one of them?" "Honey," Barbara laughed, "a few minutes ago, I watched as your own sister sat three feet away from you and didn't recognize you. No one will have any idea that you are not what you appear to be - a pretty girl. Ok?" He sighed and pulled the panties on. "If I could make a suggestion," Barbara made a cringing face. "I think it might be a good idea to tuck your little friend down into the gusset of the panties." Quinn look at his bulge and shrugged. "Why? No one will see it." "Yeah, but you'll be dancing and that might involve someone pulling you in tight. So, maybe you can't see it, but trust me, someone will feel it if it's there." He shook his head and tucked it down. "Better?" "Much," both women said. "Oh, that's pretty," Barbara said as Ann produced a beautiful, white, modern corset from a bag. The corset had a floral pattern in its silk covering and, unlike any of the corsets he'd worn before, this one had breast cups and shoulder straps. "It certainly should be, for what I paid for it. I had to get it from a bridal shop. If I'd been able to order it online, I probably could have bought something similar for a third of the cost. The good news, though, is that it's got a silk lining, so it doesn't require a chemise underneath." Ann explained as she and Barbara prepared to put the garment on Quinn. He had to put his arms through the straps, but other than that, the corset was put on in the same way as the others he'd worn. "Why does it have a bra?" He asked. "I could have gotten an under bust version, but you'd still need to wear a bra with it," Ann explained as she began connecting the tiny hooks and eyes. "I thought this would be more comfortable." "Yeah, but why a bra at all? I don't have breasts. Even the little ones I get from the corsets don't need support, and I don't have nipples that would show through." Quinn wasn't really fighting the bra, in fact it was kind of exciting to him, but he just wanted to know why they chose to get one for him. "Just for appearances, Quinny," Barbara explained. "The bra has just a little padding. It'll lift up your little breasts enough to give you a tiny bit more boob-age. Also, your clothes will hang better, and that's our ultimate goal. The better you look, the less attention you'll draw and the less attention you draw, the few questions will be asked." That made sense, he guessed. The corset was tightened and then he was pushed into a chair as Barbara grabbed a pair of shoes from a bag. "These are perfect!" She declared. "Quinny, these are called 'character shoes.' Women use them in theater all the time. Basically, they are just classic pumps that go with pretty much anything and, much more importantly, they are probably the most comfortable shoes a girl can wear." She looked into the bag once more and produced several very small, flesh toned, nylon socks. "These little stockings just cover the sides of your feet. They'll protect the shoes from your foot-sweat and protect you feet from blistering." In a few moments, his feet were in the shoes and he stood. "They feel like my ankle boots," he smiled. "Very comfortable." "Yeah... YOUR ankle boots," Barbara laughed. "Into the salon chair, angel." Then she turned to Ann and said, "Start by pulling out as many bobby-pins as you can find. Then grab a brush off the vanity and brush it as best you can. I just need to grab a couple of things." "God almighty," Ann laughed as she worked, speaking half to herself, "you could never make it through airport security with all these pins in your hair." "As Winifred Harper would say," Quinn said, "'beauty comes from pain.'" When his hair was down, Ann ran her fingers through it from underneath, shaking it as she did in order to be sure that all the hairpins were out. A few more, unseen pins hit the floor, causing Ann to shake her head in amazement. "I swear, you have three times more hair now than you did last night when I put your hair up." "Three times as much volume, anyway," Barbara laughed. "Between your curlers and my teasing, we made your little brother into a Gibson Girl. Pretty cool, huh? And it'll get easier each time we do it and his hair becomes more 'naturally' full bodied. Here. Let me get in there and give his hair a daytime look." Barbara took the brush and a spray bottle filled with water and, in very short order, had his hair looking much more 'Twenty First Century' than it had all day. It was still full and wavy, but now hung lusciously down his back. "That's more like it," Barbara announced, satisfied with the way he looked. She slipped a white headband onto the back of his head to keep his hair off of his face. Then, she opened a tube of lipstick she'd carried back into the room. "Let me give your lips a little bit more modern color." She painted his lips with the waxy color, use her pinky-finger to touch-up a few spots on his lips, then took a folded tissue and said, "Open up." She put the fold of the tissue across his mouth opening. "Close." She nodded. "Open." She removed the tissue that was now soiled with a perfect imprint of Quinn's lips. She held up another tube. "This is sealer. It'll keep your lipstick fresh longer. It'll give you a nice subtle shine, too. Not cheap and artificial like some lip glosses. Annie, can you grab his dress?" As Barbara finished applying the sealer, she looked up and past Quinn's head, a smile spreading across her face. "Oh, yes! That's perfect! Just adorable!" This remark certainly piqued Quinn's curiosity, but Barbara held him in place until she'd finished. When, at last, he turned, to see Ann, she was holding up a dress with a navy blue background, covered with dozens of bright yellow sunflowers. "I'm wearing that? Out in public?' "Oh, don't be a little prig," Barbara gave his arm a playful slap. "Let's see how it looks before you whine about it." Shaking his head, Quinn stood and allowed his sister to lower the lightweight dress over his head. She zipped it up and straightened it a bit. "That fits nicely." She was very happy with her choice. "How does it feel?" Quinn flounced the dress' skirt and considered that. "Airy." He said. "It's a lot different than wearing all of the layers of clothes Louisa wears. Her clothes feel... safe. This doesn't." "You'll get used to it in no time," Barbara smiled. "I think you look adorable. Long, wavy, red hair, perky little boobs and those character shoes make your legs look sexy." She checked her watch. "Oh, geez, you guys need to go. Traffic might be heavy on the bridges." "I forgot to get you a pocketbook, Quinn," Ann said as she gathered everything they'd need to take with them. "There are pockets in the dress, though, so just put your phone in one of your pockets. That's all you'll need." The tiny state of Rhode Island is split nearly in half by the vast Narragansett Bay. The state Capitol of Providence sits at the narrow, northern head of the bay, which opens to a wide mouth at the southern end. There are many islands in the bay, with Aquidneck, home of Newport, being the largest. To reach Saunderstown on the mainland, Ann needed to first take The Claiborne Pell bridge to Jamestown on Conanicut Island, then The Jamestown-Verrazzano over to Plum Beach in Saunderstown. It was a half-hour drive with no traffic, but at this time of day, the possibility of traffic backups on the bridges was high, so they should have left more time than they had to get to the studio. As it was, they pulled up to the entrance of the studio at six fifty eight for a seven o'clock class. "Ok," Ann smiled at her little brother, "I'll go get a coffee or something, correct some papers while I wait, and see you back here in an hour or so. Have fun." "Thanks," Quinn said, without irony. He was actually grateful that Ann had taken the time to drive him. He was nervous about the class though. He closed the door. Feeling as if Quinn needed a little bolstering, Ann lowered the passenger window and shouted out the admonitions that their father used to say to them every school day morning. "Do great things! Be sure to thank your teachers! Make good choices!" Quinn turned and gave her a big smile, then entered the studio. It looked exactly as Quinn had expected it to look. A large room with hardwood floors and floor to ceiling mirrors on three of the four walls. The final wall was the one that faced the parking lot. That one was entirely windows, except for the door at its center, and the dancers inside had been hidden from the outside world by large bamboo blinds that had been rolled down. In front of those windows, a few folding tables had been set up with coffee, water bottles and some light snacks. It appeared that most of the rest of the class was gathered around those tables, laughing, talking and stirring coffee cups. "Uh, oh!" A slender man in his seventies, possibly older, turned and saw Quinn. "Fresh meat! Come on in, honey. Grab a little something before the class starts." "Umm, no thank you," Quinn suddenly felt very shy. "Oh, stop it, Moe," a woman of approximately the same age chastised the old man in a playful manner. "You're scaring the poor child. Come on in, dear. I'm Sylvia, you met Moe, and that's..." Sylvia went on to introduce the other dozen or more people, but the names just went in one of Quinn's ears and out the other. All of the people seemed friendly and all of them were well past fifty years old. That was actually comforting to Quinn. He figured that people that much older than him would be friendly without being too inquisitive. Suddenly, swing music began playing through speakers that were perched all around the ceiling line. It wasn't very loud, but definitely got everyone's attention. Then, a door in the mirrored wall to Quinn's left, opened and two people entered, clapping their hands. It was obvious that both were dancers by their build and their outfits. A sixty-ish woman with a cute, pixie hair cut and a forty-ish man with a shaved head. "Well, alright everybody," the woman said through a small lavaliere microphone she wore on her gold, silk blouse, "it's Tuesday night and time to get our ballroom on!" All the older people applauded and whooped, so Quinn applauded with them. The male dancer spotted Quinn and asked, also through a microphone of his own, "Are you Quinn?" Quinn nodded, so the man said, "Hey, everyone, we have a new class member tonight. This is Quinn and I understand that she's never danced before, but after tonight, she won't be able to say that!" More applause. "Let's give Quinn a big Dance Center welcome!" In unison, everyone shouted at the top of their lungs, "Welcome, Quinn!" It was so sweet, seeing the old folks shouting like kindergartners, that Quinn couldn't help but smile and giggle a bit. "Hi, everyone." "Welcome, Quinn," the woman added after the others. "This is Ken and I'm Judy. Oh, Quinn, I just love that dress! It is adorable, isn't it ladies?" All the women gave overly approving answers, again causing Quinn to giggle. It was at this point that Quinn actually saw himself in a mirror for the first time. The sunflower adorned dress was indeed adorable. A scoop neck, very short sleeves, clinging top making his modest bust cute and girlish, and a circle skirt with a hem that laid about three inches above his knees. He might have found this shocking had he not already seen himself in five different dresses that day. "Now, all of you are already partnered up, so I called Ricky and asked him to come join us, tonight," Ken announced and the mention of 'Ricky' seemed to illicit some sounds of approval. "I haven't heard back, though, so, if he doesn't come... gentlemen, please, don't let our new guest become a wall flower." More rumblings amongst the older people. "Now, don't get stressed over learning something new," Judy smiled as she spoke to Quinn. "We were all beginners once and the best way to learn is to just jump in and do it. Ken and I will explain everything as we go, but feel free to ask questions at any time. Remember - the most important thing to do, though, is to have fun." "Ok," Quinn smiled and nodded. This didn't sound all that bad. "I'm here!" Someone shouted from the door, causing everyone else to let out a cheer of, "Ricky!" Quinn was surprised to see a very young man, possibly his own age, enter. His hair was very nicely combed straight back in a low pompadour, short in the back, large, black framed eye glasses, a very smart, royal blue sports jacket, baby blue Oxford shirt with a yellow bow tie and yellow sweater vest above a nicely fitting pair of jeans, with brown, dress shoes. He was a little over six feet tall, fit, handsome, well dressed and confident and - and this was the oddest part - he had a smile that made Quinn tingle in the same way that the clothing had earlier. In fact, he felt the hairs on the back of his neck actually stand up. He caught his breath and realized what he was feeling and actually mumbled to himself, "What the hell?" "He's gorgeous, isn't he?" Sylvia whispered. "Isn't it a shame that all the handsome ones are gay?" Quinn looked at the older woman with what could only be described as 'doe eyes' as he whispered back, "Gay?" She smiled and shook her head. "Such a shame." "Yeah... what a shame," Quinn whispered, shocked by his mixed emotions. Ricky held court with the senior citizens for a few moments before opening his arms wide to Quinn's confidant. "Sylvia! How are you, dear?" "I am wonderful, you delicious thing," she said as she hugged him. "This is your date for the night. Her name is Quinn." "Quinn!?" Ricky smiled as he extended a hand to him. "Well, it looks like I'm the luckiest guy in class tonight. So nice to meet you! I love your dress! Tell me, is that hair your natural color, because it is amazing!" He was effusive and flamboyant without being overly effeminate. He could be coming across as gay or he could be coming across as the friendly ma?tre d' in a neighborhood restaurant. One thing was for sure, though, his very presence was impacting Quinn like no one else ever had before. "My hair?" He sputtered. For his entire life, his red hair had been his bane and his pride. Boys always teased him for being a red head while women always told him how beautiful it was. Now, a man, a very, very handsome man, was praising it. "It's... umm... yes, it's my natural color." "It's gorgeous!" Ricky proclaimed. "Alright, Ricky," Ken said, smiling, "if you wouldn't mind... let's start with a waltz." Ricky nodded at Ken, then turned to Quinn. "Ok, I?m going to step forward with my left foot, then to the side with my right." He demonstrated as he spoke. "Then, my left foot joins my right, step back on my right, slide like this on my left and finally my right foot comes back to my left. Here, come do it with me before the music starts. Just follow me. Let me lead. Good, now, try to stay on the balls of your feet and step as lightly as possible. That?s it. Yeah, good job." The whole time that Ricky was instructing him, Quinn was trying to clear his head. What was wrong with him? He wasn?t gay, was he? He didn?t think so, but... tingles. He couldn?t look away from Ricky?s beautiful eyes. His look, his smell, his touch, it was all overwhelming Quinn. "Here we go," Judy announced in a happy tone and the music started. At first, they stayed in a corner as Ricky drilled Quinn on the steps, but after about a minute, he said, "We?re going to move around the room, now. Here we go!" He half lifted Quinn into the fray, swinging him out of the corner. Quinn was stunned by the feeling of near weightlessness as he allowed himself to be led around the dance floor. As the song ended, Kenny announced, "Let?s give your ladies a spin, gentlemen." Each man lifted their partner?s left hand high and each woman spun beneath their man?s grip, causing their skirts to flare. Quinn saw what they did and followed suit, spinning and flaring his skirt, but he was surprised when he heard Ricky let out a sharp groan. "Ohhh!" He said loudly as his knees bent and his upper body folded over his lower. He was obviously in pain, but Quinn didn?t know why. He slapped both of his hands over his mouth and took a step backwards. "Oh, my God! Are you ok?" The others had stopped and were looking on with concern as well. "Argh," he grunted as he stood, but a grimace remained on his face. "Do you have something in your dress pockets?" He asked. Quinn felt the pockets. "Just my phone." Ricky stood, red faced. "Just your phone," he laughed. "Your phone is a weapon when you spin it around like that." "Oh, I?m so sorry," Quinn was horrified to have hurt someone. "Where did it hit you?" Ricky laughed. "Where to you think? I don?t usually discuss that part of my body on a first date. Here, give me your phone and I?ll set it on a bench until later." He took Quinn?s phone and set it aside. As he returned to the dance floor, he smiled at Quinn. "Are you hiding any other weapons in that pretty dress? Maybe some nunchucks, or a switchblade or brass knuckles or anything like that?" Quinn smiled at the joke. "No. Nothing like that. I?m really sorry." "Don?t be," he laughed. "Ricky, are you ok to move on to a polka?" Ken asked. Ricky nodded. "I thinks she?s completely disarmed." He put his arm around Quinn?s shoulders and gave him a squeeze. Quinn was a little embarrassed that he?d caused a bit of a scene, but he liked the way it felt when Ricky squeezed him. What was he feeling? What was he thinking? He was a guy! A straight guy! Why did he feel this way when Ricky touched him. Besides, Ricky was gay and thought that Quinn was a girl. He wouldn?t feel any attraction to Quinn, anyway. Yet... he still had these feelings. They polkaed. They two-stepped. They tangoed. And through it all, Ricky was teaching and cajoling and encouraging Quinn to do better. Finally, it was time for a ten minute break. Quinn went to the table to grab a bottle of water and Ricky talked to a few of the others before sitting down on a bench to the side of the room. In a few moments, Quinn joined him on the bench and handed him a bottle of water. "Thanks," Ricky smiled that amazing smile. "So... what brings a pretty young woman like you to The Dance Center to take part in ?The Retiree Ball??" Quinn half spit his water out laughing at the retiree remark. "I need to dance for a job." "Dance for a job? What kind of a job?" "I?m the new Louisa Harper at Golden Bluffs," Quinn said, proud, but a bit embarrassed to admit it. "Oh, wow!" Ricky gushed. "How awesome! Congrats! So that means you?re... what... seventeen? Eighteen?" Quinn swallowed a mouthful of water and shook his head. "Twenty one." "Me too! Hey, where are you going to school?" "I start as a freshman at Salve Regina in the fall." "Ooh, a rich girl!" Ricky teased. "Just starting college at twenty one. Let me guess why. Hmmm... Maybe you?ve been serving hard time for murder. Or, maybe you were in a convent. Oh, no... I know... you were a hostage in some kind of international espionage thing, right? Yes! I guessed it! You were a hostage, right?" Quinn was laughing at him. "Actually, your last guess is kind of the closest to the truth. I kind of was a hostage. I was in a car accident when I was in middle school. Broke my back. I couldn?t even move my legs for awhile. Bunch of surgeries and lots of physical therapy and now I need to learn to dance. Which, now that I think about it, is pretty cool." Ricky?s mouth hung open as he looked at Quinn with admiration. "Wow! I mean... Wow! That?s unbelievable." He shook his head in disbelief. "You?re like a superhero or something. That?s amazing! Well... congratulations on... being alive I guess." Quinn felt himself actually blushing. "Thanks." "Wow," Ricky said quietly, again. "Hey," he said more loudly, "would you like to get a coffee or something after class?" "Oh," Quinn grimaced a little, "I?m sorry. I can?t." "Oh, look," Ricky persisted, "I just meant, you know, for coffee. Just to talk and get to know each other. You know... just to be friends." "Oh, yeah, I know," Quinn explained. "It?s just... see... I can?t drive ? I mean, I don?t have a license, yet ? so my sister, Ann drove me here. She?s waiting out there for me. Unfortunately, my life is kind of a logistical nightmare, especially for Annie, so... I?m really sorry. I?d like to, really I would, but I just can?t." "No sweat. I get it," Ricky nodded. "How about tomorrow? Where do you live. Maybe I could pick you up or something, and then bring you home after class and we could stop for some coffee then." "Well... I don?t know. See, I live way up in Portsmouth, over on Aquidneck. It?s a haul." Ricky put his arm around Quinn, again, and again... tingles. "I don?t mind driving you home. I?d really like to get to know you. What do you say?" Quinn bit his lower lip as he thought for a moment. "I need to talk to Annie before I say yes. Is that ok?" "Sure," he smiled. "Maybe you could introduce me to her so she knows that I?m not some kind of creepy stalker - I?m actually a really sweet stalker." Quinn laughed again. "Ok." Judy clapped her hands. "Ok, break?s over, ladies and gents! Let?s get back on the dance floor." XXX Ann was listening to one of her favorite podcasts and typing some grades into her grading software on her iPad when she saw Quinn exiting the dance studio and he was walking... with a guy. This was unexpected. And they were coming to the driver?s side of her car. Hmm... curiouser and curiouser. She lowered the window. "Hi! How did it go?" "Kind of great, actually," Quinn smiled. "Hi," Ricky smiled and extended a hand, "I?m Rick. I was Quinn?s dance partner, tonight." Ok. That made a little sense. "Hi, Rick. Annie. Thank you for walking Quinn out." "No problem," he smiled. "Umm... look, Quinn and I were talking and, would you mind if, tomorrow night, I drove her home? I thought it?d be nice to get to know each other a little better. Maybe get a coffee or something." This was really unexpected. She looked at Quinn for guidance and got the distinct impression that Quinn wanted to have coffee with this guy. Yeah, he was really handsome, but... there was a lot to unpack here. Oh, well, Quinn was twenty one. If he wanted to hang out with this guy, she couldn?t really say no. "Umm... ok, sure, I guess, but... did Quinn tell you we live in Portsmouth? It?s a long ride." "More time to chat," Ricky smiled. "Thanks." He looked at Quinn and smiled. "So... I?ll see you here tomorrow, then?" "Yeah, ok," Quinn sputtered. Ricky shook his head as he looked at Quinn once more. "You really are the first superhero I ever met." Then, he did something that surprised Quinn and shocked Ann. He leaned in, hugged Quinn tightly and kissed his cheek. "Good night, my sunflower girl. See you tomorrow." "?Night," Quinn said as he watched Ricky walk away. After a few moments, Ann cleared her throat. "If you?re done pining, I?d kind of like to get home sometime this evening." Quinn blinked at her, then realized he hadn?t yet gotten into the car. "Oh... sorry." He hustled to the passenger side and got in. As Ann drove out of the parking lot, she looked straight ahead and said, "So... he seems nice." "Yeah," Quinn agreed. "Everyone was really nice. It was a lot more fun than I expected it to be." Ann nodded. "Good. Good. Umm... listen, Quinn... this thing with Ricky tomorrow night... well... you know that?s a date, right?" Quinn laughed. "No, it?s not a date, Annie. Ricky is gay." "Which means he likes guys," she pointed out. "Right." "And you?re a guy." "Yeah, but he doesn?t know that. Annie, everyone in the class loves him. He?s just one of those guys that has a big personality. Trust me. It?s not a date." Ann remained skeptical, but drove on. Quinn took out his phone and started to play a word game he quite liked and Ann remained quiet, wondering how concerned she should be about this Ricky situation. Yeah, Quinn was an adult and all, but he also was not the most socially astute person. He had spent a lot of time with a very limited number of people and Ann had seen him misread simple social cues on more than one occasion. She was brought out of her thoughts by the sound of a chime from her brother?s phone and then the sound of Quinn laughing. "What?s so funny?" She asked, intrigued. As far as she knew, the only person who ever sent Quinn texts was sitting a foot and a half away from him, driving the car. "Oh, nothing. I just got a text from Ricky telling me to look in my picture folder on my phone. I did and look." He held up a picture of Ricky winking at the camera. It was kind of cute, but definitely flirtatious. "There?s a bunch." Quinn shook his head. "He must have taken them when we took our break. Oh, here?s a really funny one." He held the phone for Ann to see it. On the screen was Ricky blowing a kiss, but his eyes were crossed." "Quinn. He?s blowing you a kiss. I?m telling you, this kid has a thing for you." "You?re crazy. He?s just goofing around. He?s like that with everybody." Ann drove on through the darkening night, but she found herself wondering a number of things. Was Quinn gay? It had never really come up before. Yeah, he was always a bit enamored with Barbara, but that was never going to be sexual. Not that it mattered if he WAS gay in the long run, but for tomorrow night... what should she tell him about going out on a date with a guy? Should she say anything at all or just let things unfold? "Annie?" Quinn asked, sounding a little tentative. "Yeah?" He thought a moment then asked, "Do you think that, maybe, I might be able to borrow a few bucks from you until I get paid on Friday?" Ann assumed he wanted to have some money with him so he could pay for a cup of coffee when he went out with Ricky. "Sure honey." "Thanks," he nodded. "I was thinking that I might ask Barbara if she could drive me to that discount outlet on the waterfront during lunch tomorrow." That caught Ann by surprise. "Why do you need to go there?" He shrugged. "I was just thinking that, maybe, I might find a nice dress to wear tomorrow night." Well, that both confirmed and confused a few things for Ann. She didn?t know if Quinn was gay, or confused, or just caught up in his girly feelings, but she did know that she would not be going to bed tomorrow night until her new little sister was home safely from her first real date.