On Becoming Miss Louisa Harper of New York and Newport - 1
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of New York and Newport - 1
Rhode Island. Once the home of the most important chronicler of The Gilded Age,
Louisa Harper, the museum offers glimpses into Louisa's daily life in 1890.
The staff portray members of the family and staff.
Unexpectedly, a new Louisa is needed...
Author's Note: I hope that you are staying safe. This is a different take on my stories and I hope that you will find it as fascinating as I do. If you enjoy this story, please help me find my way and comment? I do want to become a better author. ~Clara
This version of On Becoming Miss Louisa Harper of New York and Newport - 1 has been updated with many corrections towards spelling and grammar.~Sephrena.
Image Credit: Image created through the use of ai at https://perchance.org/beautiful-people .~Sephrena.
Chapter 1
From 'The Autobiography of Miss Louisa Harper'
~ "The summer of 1890 was to be the start of my new life. At fifteen years of age, I was to be presented to society and I had expected that I would then be considered an adult. That, at long last, I would have a say in my own life, my own destiny. That was not to be, though. I was still just a doll to be dressed and used as decoration in the home of my powerful parents.
I was made up and dressed and used to impress the visitors who came to visit us at Golden Bluff that summer. There were Astors and Goodyear's, Vanderbilts and Thorndykes, Cabots and Lowells and Rockefellers. There were princesses and princes, dukes and duchesses, lords and ladies, and of course, Presidents. Both Grover Cleveland and Benjamin Harrison were guests that summer. I smiled and nodded and laughed at their jokes and endured their flirtations while always remembering my place. It was beautiful and glorious and exasperating. I was a debutante, yes, but unlike many of my peers, I was a debutante with opinions. Strong opinions which I wanted so very badly to voice.
Don't misunderstand me, though. There was much about my adolescent life that I loved. The elegance and opulence of Newport, Rhode Island was like nowhere else on earth in that year. Back then, my head was not yet strictly a place of serious thought and reflection. It was also a steamer trunk filled with the din of small talk, the chaos of feminine intrigue and the ever important subject of fashion. I was the Rembrandt of fashion. I decorated myself as no one had done before and few have done since. I was a work of art. I began everyday with the blank canvass that was my pale body and by mid-day, when I appeared in public, I was a masterpiece of color, texture and style.
In 1890, my father was the King of New York City, my mother was the Queen of Fifth Avenue and I ruled Aquidneck Island as the Princess of Newport, Rhode Island."
"I'm sorry Mrs Jenkins, but I just can't do it. I tried, I swear, but the pain in my back is just too much to bear." Quinn grimaced as he tried to find a standing position that would relieve some of the pain he was dealing with. "See, since my surgery..."
Carolyn Jenkins held up both of her hands as she sat behind her desk. 'Quinn, I know the whole story. You know that." She heaved a big sigh and shook her head. "The stable work was too much for your back, being a part of the kitchen staff was too much for your back, now being a butler is too much for your back. Quinn, I told your sister that I'd find something for you to do here at Golden Bluffs, but you just don't seem capable of doing anything. Not even something as simple as just standing up."
"I know, Mrs Jenkins, and I am truly sorry, but the pain is constant and even just standing becomes more than I can stand." Quinn looked at the floor and shook his head. "Look, Mrs Jenkins, I appreciate your help, but... I guess I should probably just go."
Carolyn Jenkins looked at Quinn, then at her assistant and shook her head. "Just... just go sit in the outer office, Quinn. Let me think for a few minutes. There must be something you can do around here."
"Ok, Mrs Jenkins," the twenty one year old nodded. He turned and headed to the outer office, but stopped at the door. "I really am sorry, Mrs Jenkins. I am grateful for all that you've done, but... I really don't want to make things more difficult for you than necessary."
"I know, Quinn. Just give me some time to think, ok? I'm sorry if I was brusque. It's just been a crappy day. I'll call you back in in a little while. Better yet, go down to the restaurant and have some lunch. We'll talk later."
She waited for the door to close, then looked her assistant and shook her head. "I swear to God, Jess, if we manage to get the estate reopened this year, it'll be a miracle." Jess and Carolyn were both attractive women in their mid fifties and had been friends and colleagues for decades. They'd faced a lot of challenges along the way. It wasn't easy to keep a living museum viable, especially on Mansion Row in Newport, Rhode Island where every house on the street was just as magnificent as the estate they ran, Golden Bluffs. All of these 'Gilded Age' mansions, with the exception of Golden Bluffs, had been acquired by The Newport Historical Society years ago, but Golden Bluffs was still owned by the descendants of the most famous woman of the period; Miss Louisa Harper - The woman who, at age seventeen, wrote the book that became the chronicle of the Gilded Age, then went on to be one of the most important voices in the fight for women's suffrage and social reform. The family relied not only on tourist dollars to keep the mansion in good repair, but also on private events such as weddings, anniversaries, company retreats, etc. It was a difficult job that became more challenging every year.
"Why don't you just let the kid leave?" Jess asked, baffled by her boss' interest in the boy. "When the estate closed for the winter in January, we knew that this would be a tough year. Now, it's even tougher than we expected. Why are you allowing this kid to be such a distraction? God, that stupid pony tail of his was a big enough problem; it doesn't come close to any men's style of the Gilded Age. I don't know if he's lazy or just stupid."
Carolyn sighed and shook her head. "Long story short - Quinn was in a car accident seven years ago that killed his parents and older brother. His sister lives down the street from me and she and Barbara are best friends. His sister was away at college the day of the accident and, as the only surviving family member, she took on the responsibility of caring for Quinn. He was quite the athlete in middle school and they expected that he'd dominate when he got to high school. Unfortunately, the accident broke his back in several places and he also had to have a kidney transplant. Six surgeries later and it's a miracle he's alive. That's why he's in constant pain. And that long hair... well... at first no one knew if he'd ever walk again, so the barber wasn't a priority. Then, as he made progress, the female nurses and physical therapists all kept praising his beautiful red hair, even though it is stick straight and pretty scraggly. I think it was just something positive in his life that he could cling to. Now his hair is like his security blanket. I guarantee you it won't be there any more once he's back to feeling like a whole human being."
Jess nodded. "Wow. Poor kid. But if he can't work, he can't work. End of story."
Carolyn shook her head. "Jess, the kid has been through hell. He only just graduated from high school last month - at age twenty one, for crying out loud - and now he's been accepted to Salve Regina for college. His sister is living paycheck to paycheck because of his conditions and I promised I'd find SOMETHING he could do to earn some money to help her out." She shook her head again. "So... I'm sure you didn't come in here to talk about Quinn. So far today we've had plumbing issues, parking permit problems, the chef is demanding a raise and the trash removal company is increasing its pick up costs by sixty percent. What else could possibly go wrong today?"
Jess grimaced as she broke the news. "I just got a call from Lindsey Carter. She got a role on a TV show and is leaving for Atlanta tonight."
"You've got to be kidding me," Carolyn sunk in her chair.
"Unbelievable. We have two weddings on the premises in the next ten days, not to mention the opening of the museum and we lose our teenaged Louisa. This is like some sort of bad dream!"
One of the most popular attractions at Golden Bluffs were The Three Louisas. Louisa 3 was an actress in her fifties who talked to guests about Louisa Harper's work as a social reformer in the 1930s and 40, Louisa 2 discussed the woman's work as a suffragette at the beginning of the twentieth century and Louisa 1 discussed living as a debutant in The Gilded Age and the legendary writings that brought her fame. Louisa 1 was always the most popular Louisa, due in part to the original Louisa's writing still being very popular, especially amongst young women, but also because of the opulent clothing and jewelry of the period that never failed to mesmerize the female guests.
For the last two seasons, Louisa 1 had been portrayed extremely well by Lindsey Carter. Finding a replacement would not be easy. Especially since they would need to find that replacement pretty damned quickly.
Carolyn checked her watch. Only eleven forty five. Still plenty of time for a lot more to go wrong. "Do you know if Barbara is back yet?"
"She is." Jess checked her phone. "She sent me a text at eleven twenty that she was back and working in the wardrobe room. She says that her team is making some new maids uniforms for the servers in the restaurant."
"Tell her I need to see her ASAP, will you? Let me know when the plumbers are done and I'll call Aaron over at the trash removal place and try to reason with him and his organized crime associates." Carolyn looked at the pile of work on her desk and groaned. "This gets harder every year."
"I know," Jess agreed, then headed to the door. "What about that kid? Want me to just send him home?"
"No," Carolyn grunted. "Maybe Barbara will have some idea of what to do with him. She knows him pretty well."
"Hi, mom," Barbara smiled as she entered Carolyn's office carrying a bolt of fabric and a large screened iPad with her.
"Hi, sweetie." Carolyn was sitting at a small table near a window that overlooked the estate's rocky beach as she nibbled on some pita bread and hummus. "Have you had lunch?"
"That's your lunch? Mom, come on. At least have a salad or something. There's a kitchen fight below us. Get something decent, will you?"
"It's plenty," Carolyn waved her daughter off. "Come sit."
They discussed the new uniforms for the servers and the issues that had plagued Carolyn that morning. "Oh, and to top off all of that," Carolyn said disgusted, "We need a new teenaged Louisa like yesterday. Whoever we find will have to do a lot of work to get ready for the parties next weekend."
"Keep that tight timeline in mind when you cast her, mom. Remember that Louisa 1's dresses are the most involved. Everything we had before was altered to fit Lindsey and we've made and remade a lot of her clothes since. So, no matter how great an actress you may find, unless she's five foot six inches tall with no more than a twenty six inch waist that can be corseted in to twenty two inches, you don't have girl who can play Louisa. There is no way we can make new costumes in ten days."
Carolyn nodded. "So, in effect, we are looking for an actress to fill the costume, not costuming the actress. I'm sure that will narrow down our options."
"Well, if you do run into a situation, just cast someone who fits the costumes, then have Ashley Kemp work as a narrator. She has been the docent in that wing for years and knows the whole script backwards and forwards. She can handle any questions that the visitors may throw at her."
"Good idea," Carolyn made a note on her legal pad. "So, what size are we looking for?"
Barbara sniffed as she grabbed her iPad and searched for a moment. Because everyone needed to dress in period garb, Barbara and her staff measured everyone who was hired at Golden Bluffs when they were hired. Staff members were expected to let the wardrobe people know when/if they went up or down a size so that costumes always looked correct. "Five foot six, thirty five inch bust and twenty five inch waist and an A cup would be best."
Carolyn took notes. "Hips?"
"Doesn't really matter. Everything is high waisted and heavily petticoated, so hips are hidden."
There was a knock on the door.
"Yes?" Carolyn called.
The door cracked open and Quinn's head popped in. When he saw Barbara, he refrained from entering. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt."
"Oh, don't be silly, Quinn," Barbara smiled at her long time, young friend. "Come on in." She stood and hugged him gently. "Why are you out of costume?"
Carolyn let out an unintentional and very sardonic chuckle. "And that's another thing. We need to find something else for Quinn. He's having a hard time standing all day."
"Of course you are," Barbara smiled. "Not your fault, honey. Come and sit down and let's see what we can find for you."
Quinn's face reddened a bit when Barbara called him 'honey,' a pet name she'd adopted for him back when she'd been a part time caregiver for him, when he was unable to care for himself, before and immediately following his back surgeries. Barbara was a dark haired, breathtakingly beautiful woman and always was, even back then when she was still in high school. Being three six years older than him and so beautiful, Quinn had developed a huge crunch on her, one that he still had, but could never tell her about.
"I... I just wanted to stop in and say 'thank you' and 'goodbye,'" he explained. "You've been very patient and kind, but I've thought about every job here at the estate and I really don't think that I can do any of them with my back pain. I'm really sorry."
"What!?" Barbara said in a shocked expression that one might use to keep a toddler's attention. "You're not seriously thinking of leaving Golden Bluff, are you? Quinn, you just got here!" She took his arm and guided him towards the little luncheon area in Carolyn's office. "Now, you just sit right there and let's see what we can find."
Quinn began to protest, but Carolyn stopped him. "That's right, Quinn. I promised Annie that we'd find something to help you out. Now, don't make me out to be a liar."
Quinn let out a sad sound as he sat. This was all hopeless. He'd had nothing but bad luck for years, now. It seemed as if the fates were just out to get him.
"Now, let's see. Hmmm...." Barbara perused the spreadsheet that had the jobs at Golden Bluffs and the employees assigned to those posts. She looked for a very long while and her face grew concerned. "So... do you think you'd be ok if you were seated for part of the day?"
Quinn shrugged. "I guess. I really don't know for sure until I try."
"Of course, of course," Barbara nodded. "What about reception?"
Carolyn cleared her throat. "I'm afraid we can't do that. Reception involves dealing with cash and, as foolish as it sounds, everyone who works at reception has to be bonded and in order to be bonded, the employee must have a high school diploma and at least one semester of college credit. This isn't something I can bypass. Our insurance insists on the bond. I'm sorry."
Barbara nodded, but kept reading the list. "Food prep? Can you do that from a stool?"
Her mother grabbed her own iPad and looked up something. "Hmm... no. According to the chef's description, 'Applicant must be able to lift boxes of fifty to sixty pounds and be able to work at a counter for long periods of tine.'"
This went on and on and the whole process made Quinn feel more and more inadequate as they went along.
"Ooh!" Barbara perked up. "We need a Chauffeur!"
"I haven't gotten my license, yet." Quinn said, embarrassed.
"Oh... of course." Barbara muttered. "Well..." she looked at her mother, "... could we add another doorman?"
Carolyn pursed her lips and pondered. "Doormen were typically fairly strong. There is some standing on busy days, of course. And then there's the uniform. I don't think we've ever had to fabricate one of those, there were so many here already. I'm pretty sure that Quinn would be swimming in even the smallest of those."
"Let me look and see what we have in stock." Barbara looked at her costume inventory. "It appears that our smallest uniform pant is a thirty four and our smallest jacket is a forty two. Now, let me check... here we go... Quinn, your waist is a..." she looked at her mother. "Twenty six." Carolyn sat straighter and listened to what came next. "Your five foot six inches tall and have a thirty five inch chest."
Quinn had once been one of the better built kids in his class but the accident and the surgeries had caused him to whither substantially. The anti-rejection drugs he'd taken for his new kidney had also left him more or less the same height he'd been the day of the accident when he was fourteen. Just hearing those numbers spoken aloud made him cringe. "Ok. I think that's enough. I get it - I'm just useless."
"No, no, no, no!" Barbara grabbed his forearm as he tried to stand. "Quinny... we have the perfect job for you. Lots of sitting. No heavy lifting. It's perfect... but a little unconventional."
"Unconventional, how?" Quinn was genuinely curious, but concerned.
"Quinn," Carolyn said, "how much do you know about Louisa Harper's life and writings?"
He shrugged and thought for a moment. "I think I know a lot. I mean, I remember what we learned on our school trips and, when I was confined to bed, Barbara read me her autobiography a few times... maybe more than a few times."
The women looked at each other. "Ok. Let me give you a little quiz," Carolyn said.
"I need to run down stairs for a minute," Barbara said as she stood and hurried out the door.
For the next few minutes, Carolyn asked him increasingly more obscure questions about the life and times of Louisa Harper, until, at last, Barbara came back into her mother's office carrying an armful of clothing.
"How did he do?" Barbara asked as she draped the clothing over the back of a chair.
Carolyn smiled. "If I didn't know any better, I'd swear that he'd done a graduate thesis all about Louisa's life. He knows more about her than I do."
"Awesome. Quinn, come here let's see if this fits."
Confused by the enthusiastic comment on his knowledge about Louisa Harper's life and the amount of material that Barbara had carried with her, Quinn stood up and walked across the office.
"Take off your clothes and put this on," Barbara instructed.
He looked around for a moment then asked, "Where can I change?"
Barbara laughed. "Quinn, just a few years ago, you were laying in bed, crippled and unable to care for yourself. My mother and I were changing your diapers and wiping your butt on a nearly daily basis. Come on. This is important. Just..." She could see that he was nervous. "Oh, for crying out loud." She opened a door to a shallow storage room that had just enough space for shelves. "Stand behind this door and put this on." She handed him a cotton garment like none he'd ever seen before, but he knew that a lot had changed in clothing since the Gilded Age, so he just took the garment and ducked behind the door.
"Can I leave my underwear on?" He asked.
"Take everything off,' Barbara instructed. "That is underwear."
He removed all of his clothing, then shook the garment he'd been given, then turned it this way and that until he figured out where the top and front were located. He looked it over and had some concerns. Those concerns were caused primarily by the over abundance of elaborate layers of lace all over the garment.
"This is women's underwear, isn't it?" He called around the door.
"It's just a costume, Quinn. Put it on and after we take some measurements, we'll discuss if you're even going to be able to play the part we have in mind for you." Barbara sounded exasperated with him, so Quinn opened the front of it and considered how to get it on.
"What is this thing?"
"It's called 'a combination.'"
"And how do I get into it?"
"How do you...?" Barbara was clearly frustrated, now. "It's just like a romper. Open it up, step into the pants, pull it up and pull the top part onto your shoulders."
"It opens in the front, right?"
"Of course it opens in the front. It's got a flap that covers the rear end. Obviously, that goes in the back."
"There's so much lace on this thing it's hard to figure out what's what."
Suddenly, both woman raised their voices and shouted in unison. "Just put it on!"
"Alright, alright." He stepped into the short pant legs and pulled it up to his waist, then put his arms thru the sleeve holes and settled it onto his shoulders. "It's only got, like, a couple buttons. There aren't enough to keep it closed."
"No, that's what the ribbons are for. Step out and I'll tie them up for you."
Before he could even take a step, Barbara pulled the door open to reveal Quinn wearing the loose fitting combination. It was made from a very soft, very sheer cotton and covered in lace from the shoulders to the waist. Below that, there was layer after layer of lace fringe that hung off the very loose fitting hips and wide leg openings that reached gently to his knees, making it look as if he might have been wearing a skirt. She quickly tied the ribbons on his chest and waist, then stood back, looked at him and smiled, looking towards to her mother. "What do you think?"
"He looks great," Carolyn nodded and looked at him with the eye of someone who'd seen many people dressed just like this.
"Really? Because I feel stupid," Quinn said, fingering the material. "You don't really expect me to go out in public dressed like this, do you?"
"Don't be foolish, Quinn," Carolyn scoffed. "That's just the first layer of clothes."
"Hold your arms to the side," Barbara got his attention.
He did as he was told and a moment later, Barbara was standing right in front of him, leaning over his shoulder to see behind him while she wrapped him in something stiff and beige. Then she stepped back a bit and began fastening hooks and eyes on the front of the wrap that encased his abdomen from just above his hips to just below his pectoral musicals.
"What is... is that a corset!? I can't wear a corset!" He said in shock.
"Of course you can," Barbara said, as she continued to fasten the hooks into the eyes. "Lots of men wore corsets in The Gilded Age. Truth be told, a lot do now, too."
"Oh," Quinn took a breath. "So, this is a man's corset?"
Barbara finished the fasteners, looked him in the eye, smiled and said, "No, but don't get upset. It's not one of those fetishistic things that are popular today. It's just a foundation garment that was worn everyday by more than half the population in the eighteennineties." She touched his chest. "See, no cups or anything. Just support to shape the body." She moved behind him.
"Why would I need to shape my body? Ooof!" That last noise was an involuntary noise made when Barbara first yanked on the laces in the back of the corset. "Please, be careful of my back."
"Don't worry, I'll be gentle," she assured him.
"You know," Carolyn offered, "a lot of the museum employees who wear corsets say that it actually offers a lot of back support."
"Don't let me hurt you, though," Barbara said as she worked. "I want it tight, not painful." When he grunted again, she asked, "Am I hurting you?"
"It's not the tightness that hurts, it's how my back shakes when you pull the laces back there."
"Oh, we can fix that. Come over her and grab onto this rack," Carolyn pointed to what looked like an ornate, sturdy, towel rack that had been mounted on the wall. "Hold tight to this and, if Barbara is careful, you won't get jerked. Not too hard, now, Barbara."
"What is this bar for?" Quinn asked, gripping the ornate piece of iron work.
"It's a corseting bar," Carolyn said, matter of factly. "Louisa's mother had these installed in all the guest bedrooms for the benefit of female guests. My office was once a small, guest bedroom."
Barbara pulled the strings some more, trying to not jerk his body. Having him hold onto the corseting bar helped a great deal, too. Once he was more stable and not being hurt by the jerking of the lacing process, Quinn's torso began to narrow very quickly. Very soon, Barbara was wrapping the strings to the front of Quinn's body and tying the excess into a neat knot at his waist line.
"Grab my tape measure, please," Barbara asked. Her mother handed it to her and in seconds it was wrapped around Quinn's waist. She looked up at her mother and smiled.
"Twenty two inches?"
"Twenty one and a half," Barbara smiled. "I was being gentle, too. I bet we could even get him smaller."
"Ok, fine, but there's no need for that, right?" Carolyn asked.
"No. This is great."
As the two women talked, Quinn looked down at himself and grew concerned. "Maybe this isn't a fetish corset with cups for a woman's breasts, but this thing is making my chest look awfully weird. It's pushing all my skin up."
Barbara reached into the top of the corset and pulled as much skin as possible over the top of the corset on both sides of his chest.
"Hey," Quinn complained.
"Maybe not quite an A cup, but not too far off, either." Barbara smiled. She picked up two very tall stockings and handed them to Quinn. "Put these on."
"Now, come on. What exactly are you expecting me to do?" Quinn tried to draw a line in the sand.
Barbara and Carolyn looked at each other. Finally, Carolyn
said,"Quinn... we need a teenaged Louisa, at least for a few weeks."
"A teenaged...? Are you nuts!? You want me to pretend to be Louisa Harper!? Come on! People will see me! I can't do that!"
"Ok, take a breath," Barbara tried to calm him down. "First of all, you need a job and this is a job - AND it's a job that pays a lot better than any of the other jobs that you're actually qualified for. Second, no one is going to recognize you if you're dressed as Louisa. I was Louisa for two years when I was in high school and at least a couple of dozen people I knew pretty well came into the museum and no one ever recognized me. The makeup and hair are specifically designed to make the person dressed as Louisa look just like Louisa. And third, under our current time and financial limitations, it's more important that we have someone who looks good in the dresses than a great actress."
Quinn shook his head. "How about four, five and six? Four, I'm not a girl. Fifth, I'm not a teenager. Sixth, I'm not a teenaged girl! This is crazy!"
"Ok, everyone take a breath," Carolyn put one hand on Quinn's shoulder and the other on Barbara's. "Now, Quinn, let's just try this - Let Barbara get you dressed in the costume. If the costume fits and makes your body look like Louisa's, then take the night to think about what we're asking you to do. If you decide to try the next step, tomorrow we'll do a hair and makeup test. If that looks alright, then we'll put the costume back on and see if the whole package works. Then, after we see that, we sit down, discuss what comes next, and we work out a reasonable wage that makes all of this worth your while and doesn't bankrupt us. Now, does that sound reasonable?"
"No!" Quinn could not believe that they were serious. "It's not reasonable at all!"
"How about plausible, then?" Carolyn remained calm. "Quinn... we are stuck. Lindsey left without notice, we have all kinds of things happening in the next couple of weeks. We need your help."
He thought done a moment. "I don't know. I need to think about this."
"Fair enough," Barbara agreed, "but let me ask you a question. How does your back feel?"
Quinn blinked. "My back? It's... ok, I guess. Why?"
She smiled. "Quinny, I've been watching you for the last couple of days. You're moving really well, but you kind of list to the left because of your back injury. Now, I've been watching you move around here since I put that corset on you and you are moving perfectly naturally. So... come on. How does your back feel? Really?"
Quinn moved a little and thought. "Actually... it feels really good. You were right, it does support your back well.'
"Ok. One point for Team Louisa. Now, let's put those stockings on."
From 'The Autobiography of Miss Louisa Harper'
~ "The summer of 1890 was filled with events at Golden Bluffs. Millionaires, congressmen, senators and notable men and women from all over the world who required our attention at all hours of the day and night filled the estate. Making them feel welcome and important occupied nearly every minute of every day, but the biggest challenge that I faced that summer was communicating with my sister. Nine years older than me and more schooled in the ways of society, she questioned everything - every decision I made, every word that I said, every flirtatious gesture I made to an eligible suitor. Of course I loved and respected her, she was my sister, but nothing that I could do would ever please her. I strived desperately to gain her approval, but it became increasingly more apparent that she would never see me as anything but a child - An emotional and intellectual invalid who could not be trusted to do something as simple as live my own life."
"Annie? Annie?" Barbara called as she entered the modest, Cape Cod style house in Portsmouth, a town twenty minutes north of Newport on Auidneck Island in Rhode Island. "Annie?"
"Be right down!" Came from upstairs. Then the twenty eight year old, attractive Special Education teacher trotted down the stairs in running leggings and a pullover sweatshirt bearing the name and color of the college where she'd gotten her Masters Degree. - 'Brown.' "Hey, Barbie! What's up?"
They exchanged a friendly hug and a peck on each other's cheeks.
Barbara smiled and took a deep breath. "So... I need to talk to you about something kind of... odd."
"Sure," Ann nodded. "I was just on the treadmill. Let's go into the kitchen and sit. I need a drink. Water?"
"Sure."
They enter the small kitchen with its worn faux-brick linoleum, old, small cabinets painted in flat white milk-paint, mid century gas range and olive green refrigerator. Ann grabbed two bottles of cold water from the noisy appliance and handed one to Barbara as they sat at the table. "So, what's up? I'm going to take a wild guess and say that the reason you're here is because Quinn isn't working out at the museum. Look, Barbie, you don't have to feel bad. The kid... well, there's a lot going on there, of course, but I really think he's making more of his back pain than it really is. According to his doctor and physical therapist, any pain that he's having at this point should be manageable. Don't get me wrong, Barb, I love my brother to death, but I think we may have moved past being in pain to just being lazy."
Barbara understood her friend's feelings. Ann had graduated from Salve Regina as Valedictorian, headed to Brown to get her masters degree and planned to continue on to a PhD from there, but her life had been as drastically altered by the accident that took the lives of most of her family as her little brother’s had, even if she had escaped injury. Her dreams of success, freedom and travel had disappeared the moment she received that phone call from the local police. Since then, she had had to narrow her dreams of success to teaching in the small school system where her parents’ home was located, and her dreams of freedom and travel had been traded in for the reality of becoming the primary caregiver to a brother who’d suffered horrible injuries, but always seemed to be recovering at a slower pace than the doctors predicted. Yes, she loved her brother... Yes, she wanted to help him... But... Goddamnit, this was not the life she’d planned for herself.
"Alright, yes... Quinn’s first couple of days haven’t gone well. He can’t do grounds work or stable work because he has no strength and he can’t do household work because he can’t stand very long..."
Ann had been shaking her head through all of Barbara’s explanation. "Son of a bitch, Barbie, that kid... look at this place! My father had all these big plans to renovate it and then... I have been
hemorrhaging money since the accident. I’m absolutely broke and Quinn won’t put in the least little bit of effort to help. I don’t know how he plans on dealing with college in the fall if he can’t even..."
"Ok, ok, Annie, back the truck up! Quinn still has a job and it’s probably going to be a better paying job than he expected to have. In fact, a pretty lucrative job at that, but... well, as they say... therein lays the problem."
Ann sat back a bit and looked at her friend. "He still has a job? And that job pays well? Can he do it without complaining about his back?"
"Well... yes... It’s not his back he’s complaining about." Barbara went on to explain the costume situation and how Quinn looked pretty darned good in one of Louisa Harper’s dresses and its accompanying accoutrements, but she also explained the young man’s concerns about doing the job.
‘So, he looks good as Louisa?" Ann asked, weighing the pros and cons of the situation.
"His body fits everything perfectly, yes, and – added bonus – the corset seems to support his back and relieve the pain. Tomorrow morning, we’re going to do a makeup test and try some hairstyles and maybe a few hair pieces. Honestly, though... I think he’s a natural. He knows everything about her life and he even has her red hair and pale, freckled complexion. His hair is long enough that we could probably use hair pieces rather than wigs, which would be a lot more natural looking."
Ann considered everything she’d just heard. "And... how much would he make?"
"Well, mom and I talked and we figured that we’d add a little more to his wages than we’d normally pay our Louisa's due to his having to crossdress and, to be honest, because we know and love you guys and we know that he needs to make some real money, so..."
When Ann heard the hourly wage they were willing to pay her brother there was no question in her mind that he’d be taking the job. No, it wasn’t a fortune, but it was extremely generous for a guy who had no work history whatsoever.
"He’ll do it," Ann said, decisively.
"Well, ok, but there’s a lot he’ll need to agree to do beyond just the clothes and makeup..."
"I don’t care," Ann held up a hand. "He needs to step up and be a man. He’ll do it."
"See. He actually needs to step up and be a fifteen year old girl..."
"He’ll do it," Ann shrugged. "I’ll talk to him. I’ll explain how close we are to actually slipping in to poverty. He’s a good kid. He’ll understand. He’ll do it."
"Ok," Barbara nodded. "I sure hope so. We need him as much as he needs the money, so... that would be great."
"Where is he now?"
"Mom’s bringing him here to talk it over. She gave me a twenty minute head start to give you a heads up about the whole situation."
Ann nodded as she thought. "He’ll do it."
Just then, they heard the sound of car doors closing outside.
"That’s them," Barbara looked in the direction of the sound. "Now, Annie, just remember... this is a lot to ask of him. Take it slow."
"A lot to ask of him? Barbie, I gave up everything to take care of him. It’s about time that he..."
"Annie, Annie, Annie!" Barbara held up both hands. "Take... It... Slow."
"Hello?" Carolyn called from the front door.
"We’re coming," Barbara called back, then looked at Ann. "Slow."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah... slow," Ann shook her head and headed into the front room. She expected to see her friend, Carolyn, and her own kid brother, but instead, standing next to her friend was a person who, yes, had her brother’s face and bright red hair in a ratty ponytail, but below that was the body of an elegant woman of the late nineteenth century wearing a high collared, antique silk blouse with a lace boarder on that collar. The blouse was covered by a very short jacket of red plaid that featured a plunging neckline, revealing the opulent elegance of the blouse. The jacket also had impressively puffed upper sleeves, tight fitting lower, three large, gold buttons at the bottom to close the jacket, three sewn on a delicate angle on each side to emphasize the feminine shape of the wearer, a peplum fringe traveling around the back from one hip to the other, and a black leather collar and wide lapels featuring green stitching in the shape of the boarders of the pages in 'The Book of Kells.' Below that jacket was a floor length, obviously petticoated, skirt of the same material that hung in such a way as to insinuate that the wearer, who, she had to remind herself, was in fact, her little brother, had the elegant form of a Gilded Age beauty.
"Holy moly," Ann gasped.
"Impressive, isn’t he?" Carolyn asked, pleased with Ann’s response.
"Impressive does not describe it," Ann said in a daze, as she approached Quinn.
She touched the material of the sleeves and was impressed by the soft feel of quality to the cloth. Then, without thinking, she ran her hands across the jacket where it covered his chest. "I like that you kept the inserts small. It looks and feels very natural."
"It is natural," Barbara laughed. "It’s all him, just shaped by the corset. Even though he’s thin, Quinn has enough extra skin to create breasts without inserts. He’s not wearing any kind of bra – not even attached to the corset. That’s just a little extra flab being put to good use."
"I think it’s because of the anti-rejection drugs that I took for my kidney. They made me a little plump in certain places for a while. Remember?" Quinn was embarrassed by the fact that he was so easily able to pretend to have breasts.
"I do," Ann nodded, still amazed by what she was seeing. She ran her hand along his rear end, as well, and shook her head. "That doesn’t feel natural."
"No, that’s a bustle-pad," Barbara explained, looking at Quinn from the other side. "By the time Louisa was a young woman, women had traded uncomfortable bustles for little pads that enhanced their backsides. In Quinn’s case, it doesn’t just enhance, it creates shape where none really exists at all. Of course, the corset does enhance what little he has."
"Just incredible," Ann smiled as she looked from Quinn to Barbara to Carolyn. Then she smiled at Quinn and said, "Quinn, I’m in shock. From your chin up, you’re my brother, but from your chin down... Damn, girl, you are hot! Well... hot for 1890, but... damn, Quinn... this is going to work!"
"And, like I told you," Barbara added, "the corset offers his back support."
"Does it?" Ann smiled, rubbing his back to feel the corset below.
"I kind of hate to admit it, but, yeah, it really does. I was in agony all morning but I haven’t had a single spasm since I put it on."
Ann nodded. "Then that settles it. You’re going to do this, right?"
"I... I don’t know," Quinn looked around. "I mean..." he breathed a heavy sigh. "Look, Annie... I know I’ve never really said it, but... I am very, very grateful for all you’ve done for me, and I want to help out, I really do. And I know how much college is going to cost and that the money from dad’s life insurance is all gone... well, I know all of that, and... Since you’re kind of excited about this instead of being freaked out, I assume that Barbara told you how much they’re willing to pay me to do this, but... this is all kind of... weird, isn’t it?"
Ann stared at Quinn. In an odd way, he had just thanked her for everything she’d done for him. It was as if a drain had opened up and all of her resentment towards her brother began flowing out of her. "You’re... grateful?" She muttered.
"Of course I am." Now, it was Quinn’s turn to be amazed. "Annie... without you... I’m sure I’d be dead by now. I couldn’t have made it this far without you, Annie, and I thank God every night that you cared enough to give up everything for me, but... now it’s time for me to help. I’m just not sure how I feel about helping this way."
Suddenly, all of resentment and pettiness that Ann had felt just a few minutes earlier was gone. Instead of just insisting that he put his male ego aside and take whatever Carolyn had to offer, she understood why a twenty one year old man would have reservations about portraying a fifteen year old girl in close quarters with curious museum goers. All at once, he wasn’t the bane of her existence anymore – he was her scared little brother again.
Ann nodded and looked at him. "Ok... ok. Well... what do we do, then?"
Quinn just looked confused.
"Let’s sit and talk," Carolyn suggested.
Carolyn and Ann sat on the old couch that sagged in front of the TV and Quinn and Barbara sat on the sad, worn loveseat by the wall.
"Sit with your back in the corner of the seat, Quinn," Barbara instructed. "You’ll have to sit with a straight back due to the corset. Cross your ankles, keep your knees together and use the arm of the chair for support is you need to."
He nodded and sat, a bit tentatively, but found that sitting in this manner and having the tight fitting corset wrapped around him to be quite comfortable.
"Ok – Pros?" Carolyn kicked off the conversation.
The Pros were obvious. The corset offered support that relieved his pain. The clothing fit very well and looked lovely on him. The museum needed a Louisa and he fit the bill. He knew more about Louisa than almost anyone except Carolyn and Barbara. The wages would be much higher than he’d expected. He would hold a place of honor at staged events, private parties and weddings.
The cons were obvious, too, but much less plentiful. In fact, there was only one – There was a stigma attached to men dressing as women.
"I promise you, Quinny," Barbara patted his back, "when we’ve done your hair and makeup, no one will suspect that your not a girl. Heck, after we’re done and you look in a mirror, YOU won’t even see anything but a girl."
"And if we’re wrong, we’ll find something else for you to do," Carolyn added.
It was quiet for a few moments. Finally Ann asked, "Well... what do you think, Quinn? You want to give it a try or not?"
He looked down at the beautiful clothing he was wearing and thought about it. It might be fun... right? Like... fooling everyone into thinking he’s a girl. The clothes were cool and all, but... "What about my voice?"
"What about it?" Carolyn seemed confused by the question.
"I don’t really sound like a girl, do I?"
"Well..." Barbara felt that she should tread lightly here. "...your voice isn’t exactly... low... but... we can work together and we’ll find the proper voice placement and... ummm... intonation... to make you sound convincing."
He nodded, then looked at his sister. "Do you think I can do it?"
She smiled. "Quinn... I have seen you accomplish the impossible a dozen times in the last seven years. This is nothing compared to learning how to walk again." She paused for a moment, but felt that there was something else that needed to be said. "Besides, Quinn... I haven’t really wanted to talk about this in front of you, much, but we are not in good shape, financially. Now, I don’t want that to be the sole reason for you to do this, but... things are... not good. We need to either bring in more money or sell mom and dad’s house. And, to be honest, if we sold the house, I’m not sure we could afford to live anywhere on the island, or even over the bridge. We’d probably need to leave the area."
Quinn knew what that meant. Not just starting over in a new community, it meant a new job in a new school system for Ann and a whole new team of doctors and therapists for him. He nodded. "I’ll give it a try," he said, quietly. "But if I end up looking like one of those Monty Python guys, then the deal is off. Either I look so much like a girl that no one knows, or I don’t do it."
"Deal," Barbara said, shaking his hand. "But... there are a few things we need you to do tonight, then, so that we can be ready for tomorrow’s hair and makeup work, ok?"
He nodded. "Alright."
Barbara looked at Ann and said, "Can I talk to you in the kitchen?"
"Sure." The two friends exited the room to speak.
"You’re going to do fine, Quinn," Carolyn stood and crossed the room, looking at the boy, closely. "Stand up, please."
She turned him to face away from her and pulled the hair tie from the back of his head, allowing his hair to hang freely. It wasn’t very well kept. That would need to change. There was time, though. God created the world in six days, surely she and her team at Golden Bluffs could turn this boy into a suitable version of Louisa Harper in ten.
"Do you have a brush?" She asked.
"Yes."
"Would you get it, please?"
As Quinn walked to the downstairs lavatory to retrieve a brush, Carolyn took note of how he moved. He’d already learned to shorten his steps in order to move easily while wearing two petticoats and the heavy, multilayered, lined skirt while also wearing the two inch heeled walking boots they’d put him in. That, combined with the stiffness in his upper body caused by the constricting corset, he was already moving like a young woman. This could work.
When he returned with a wide brush, Carolyn instructed him to sit in a straight backed chair and she began to brush it. "You really do have lovely hair, Quinn. You should take better care of it. Maybe have someone trim those split ends or use some conditioner now and again. It could be a lot nicer looking and it’d feel nicer, too."
He’d heard this from Ann before.
Carolyn moved around to stand in front of him. "Lean your head down as far as the corset will let you."
Quinn didn’t understand why she wanted him to do this, but he obeyed. Carolyn began under brushing his red locks, being a bit aggressive. "I need you to condition your hair tonight, then I’m going to ask Annie to set it for us so that we’ll have some body to work with tomorrow morning, alright?"
"Ok," Quinn agreed, not really having any idea what he’d agreed to do.
The brushing continued for a few more minutes before she had him sit up straight again just as Ann and Barbara came back into the room.
"Oh, wow," Ann said, "that already looks great." His hair looked as if it had much more life and texture to it. Because it wasn’t pulled tight to his scalp, it also just looked cleaner.
"Well, maybe for today’s women, but not for a young woman in 1890." Carolyn set the brush down. "So you’ll take care of his body hair, condition his head of hair and set it for him so we have a better chance of getting things right tomorrow?"
Ann nodded. "I’ll help him with everything. Barbie gave me the chart to follow for setting his hair. Tomorrow morning he’ll be ready to go."
"Awesome," Barbara smiled, then touched Quinn’s cheek. "You’re already ninety percent of the way there, Quinny. You’re going to look great, so just relax and enjoy it."
Quinn chuckled at that. "Ok."
When the others had left, Ann looked at her brother and smiled. "I can’t remember the last time I saw your hair down. It looks nice. Pretty. It really looks nice with your skin tone."
"Thanks, I guess. What did Barbara say you needed to help me do?"
Ann smiled and giggled. "Be a girl."
"Very funny," Quinn stood. "Can you help me out of all of this?"
"Sure. Let’s go to your room. You’re going to have to let me help you get ready, too, Quinn. That means I’m going to need to see you in your birthday suit. Just remember, though, it was only a short time ago that I was cleaning you up down there every day. Ok? So, there’s no reason to be shy."
"Geez, why does everyone feel the need to remind me of that?" Quinn was a bit insulted.
She took his hand. "Just don’t get upset, Quinn. Just let us help you to get everything done. Today and tomorrow may be pretty odd for you, but it needs to be done and just take comfort in the fact that you’re twenty one and doing it for the first time. Barbie and I have been doing this stuff since we were eleven or twelve. So, bite the bullet and be a big, grown up girl. Ok?"
He snorted a laugh. "Ok."
Ann guided him to his bedroom upstairs and left him there for a few minutes while she gathered some things into the bathroom. When she returned, she she seemed surprised. "I thought you’d have started to get undressed."
"I can’t get undressed myself. The way everything is made, I need someone else to help me."
She smiled and shook her head as she looked at the boy in the beautiful outfit. "So... where do I start?"
Quinn held up his right arm and with his left, he pointed to six tiny buttons running from his wrist up his arm towards his elbow. "I guess here. This was the last thing that Barbara buttoned."
Ann took his hand and began unbuttoning the tiny, gold buttons. "Barbie dressed you?"
He nodded.
It occurred to Ann that Quinn probably enjoyed that quite a bit. Ann and her family had moved to Portsmouth from Ohio nine years earlier. Their parents had wanted to give their family a new, exciting life on the ocean and the fact that their new home was close to the historic mansions of Newport was very exiting to their history teaching father. Ann was already attending Salve Regina University and her father found the whole area fascinating. He’d provided them with the biggest house that he could afford, but it needed repairs that he’d barely begun before the accident that taken his life and those of his wife and oldest son. Barbara and her mother lived diagonally across the street and they became fast friends with Ann’s family. Carolyn and Ann’s mother were like sisters who’d been separated at birth and Barbara and Ann were the same. Being a very normal teenager, Quinn had found all of his big sister’s friends intriguing, but he’d been smitten with Barbara from the first time she’d walked into their house.
After the accident, Barbara practically lived with Ann and Quinn for the first year and on many occasions, those times when Ann or Quinn or both had lost their momentum and found the need to wallow in self pity, Barbara had been the stabilizing influence that brought them back to reality. In Quinn’s case, just seeing Barbara walk into his room would give him hope that there was still good things in the world.
So – Ann now understood how her little brother had ended up in these outrageously feminine clothes: Barbara had dressed him.
With the long cuffs on both sleeves unbuttoned, Quinn could manage the three gold buttons that held the jacket closed and pull his arms from the garment, revealing the truly beautiful, lace covered, silk blouse below. It too had sleeves that were tight on the forearms and blossomed into large puffs of silk above the elbows.
Ann moved behind Quinn and was amazed that it was even more beautiful in the back than the front. What she’d assumed would be a small button at the rear of the neck to hold the lacy neckline in place, was a large, elaborate bow tied into a perfect, girlish decoration. Below it was an endless number of tiny, round pearl buttons.
"Wow! You weren’t kidding,"Ann said, impressed. "There really is no way that you could get out of this without help."
It took a good minute or more to undo all of the buttons on the back and sleeves of the blouse and when that came off, it revealed a less ornate, but no less beautiful, silk garment below.
"It’s a corset cover," Quinn explained. "I think I need to take off the skirt and petticoats first, though.
The skirt unbuttoned in the back, then Ann slid it to the floor so that Quinn could step out. She picked up the multilayered garment and laid it neatly over a chair. "That must weigh ten pounds," Ann kidded.
Then, she untied the rear of the outer petticoat, which was just a skirt of soft, thin cotton, and had Quinn step out of that. The inner petticoat was a bit more structural with an inner lining of soft silk and an outer lining of gently pleated cotton that ‘inflated’ the outer skirt in the style of the day.
Next came the corset cover, the bustle pad and the corset itself. Barbara had tied the excess laces in a bow in front of Quinn. He untied that and Ann loosened the lacing in the back, allowing Quinn to undo the hooks and eyes in the front. He did breath a sigh when the pressure surrounding his abdomen was released, but he immediately felt the loss of support for his lower back.
"Well, that’s adorable," Ann smiled admiring the gorgeous combination Quinn was wearing. "Like a fancy little girl’s romper."
"Thanks," Quinn chuckled as he reached under the legs of the combination, untied the ribbons that had acted as garters and rolled the black, silk stocking down to the tops of his ankle boots. "Damn. I think we need a buttonhook to undo the buttons on the boots. That’s how Barbara put them on."
"Sit on your bed and I’ll do it for you," Ann instructed. It wasn’t easy, but eventually she was able to get all the buttons through their holes.
While she struggled with them, though, she kept stealing glances at Quinn. "I don’t know if you want to hear this or not, Quinn, but with your hair down and brushed out like that, you really do look quite pretty."
Quinn just smiled.
"That doesn’t bother you that I said that you look pretty?"
"Isn’t that the point?" Quinn shrugged. "Louisa was one of the most beautiful girls of her day and I’m supposed to look like her, right?"
"That’s right," Ann smiled, but that’s not what she had meant at all. What she had meant was the pale, freckle faced, red headed boy she was looking at made a very attractive young lady, even without any makeup. The hair that had been brushed out nice and full and the pretty lace that framed the soft featured face was enough to turn her little brother into a very cute girl.
"All done," Ann said at long last, as she pulled the ankle boots from his feet, then slid the stockings off.
Quinn stood, just wearing the combination. "Thanks."
"And what did that take? Only about fifteen minutes. That’s normal for getting undressed, right?" Ann laid the stockings and shoes on the same chair as the skirts, etc. "Ok, little girl, now it’s going to get a little weird. Take off your pretty undies and let’s go into the bathroom."
Minutes later, Ann was shaking a blue plastic bottle and handing Quinn a shower cap. "Tuck your hair into that. This is Nair. It’s a depilatory cream to remove hair. Basically, you need to be hairless from your eyebrows to your toes, so this is a lot less painful than shaving. Luckily, you don’t have a lot of hair, so I think I have enough. I will spread this onto you, then we give it about five minute to work and we wipe it off. Simple. Ok?"
"All my hair?" Quinn seemed surprised. "The only parts of my body that showed are my face and my hands. Besides, women didn’t shave their... privates... back then."
"Barbara said your WHOLE body, Quinn. Do you want to call her and argue?"
He shook his head. "No. I ll do it. It’ll grow back, right?"
"Yes. I need to use it about once a week. So, come on, spread eagle, please."
Quinn complied and Ann began spreading the goop over his body. Ten minutes later, Quinn was wet from the shower and his body hair had all disappeared down the drain. Ann handed him a bar of Dove soap and told him to wash as usual.
"What about my hair?" He asked.
"I’ll wash that for you when you’ve cleaned your body. I need to wash it a couple of times and teach you how to condition it."
This all seemed like a bit of overkill to Quinn, but so what. He needed the money, he liked the way the clothes felt and he wanted to please Barbara. He knew that she’d never be interested in him, not romantically, anyway, but he loved being with her and hearing her praise him.
He had to kneel in the tub for Ann to shampoo his hair. Her technique seemed a bit more aggressive than any shampoo he’d ever given himself, but it wasn’t painful. What was getting painful, though, was the aching in his back. He really missed the support of the corset and his back was complaining quite loudly about it.
His hair was washed twice and the conditioner stayed in his hair for a good long while before Ann rinsed it out. "You can get out, now," Ann said and she turned to the vanity and washed her hands. She was drying her hands on a towel when she heard a tired groan. Quinn had stopped drying himself and stood with his eyes closed. "Your back hurt?"
He nodded.
"Too much standing, today?"
He shook his head. "Maybe, but... well, I think my back misses the corset’s support. Weird, huh?"
"No. It makes sense. Your back is weak, Quinn. I’d say to put the corset back on, but I don’t think you should sleep in it. It is a costume piece for the museum, so I expect that it costs a pretty penny." Then, a thought occurred to her. "Tell you what – Use this body oil all over yourself, the go put on your boxers and a tee shirt. I think there’s something in mom’s dresser that might help you."
Quinn was standing in his boxers, pulling, with a bit pain and effort, a ribbed, sleeveless tee shirt on when Ann entered. She immediately noticed that his hair was still very damp and that he smelled of the vanilla and lavender that the shampoo and body oil contained.
"Here. Try this on," Ann said, holding what looked like a modern day version of the corset Quinn had been wearing. It was definitely some kind of corset, but it was covered with black satin, had five large buttons in the front and it came to a peak in the front and that peak was obviously meant to separate a woman’s breasts.
"Mom had a corset?" Quinn was very surprised at the idea of his mom wearing a fetish garment.
"Mom had a waist trainer. It’s like a corset, but most modern corsets have breast cups. She’d wear this at night. She claimed that having us messed up her figure and this helped her regain it. When I was like fourteen or so and I got a little chubby, she got me one too. I wore it for a few nights, but I hated it. Maybe it’ll help your back, though."
"Ok. It’s worth a try."
As it turned out, the buttons in the front were strictly decorative and the waist trainer opened and closed in exactly the same way that antique corset had – using hooks and eyes in the front and a lace-up system in the back.
Quinn fastened up the front and Ann went to work on the back. It was nearly completely tightened when Quinn said, "Wait. Wait. Something is cutting into my side."
Ann loosened the lacings and Quinn undid the hooks and eyes. When the trainer was removed, Quinn lifted his ribbed shirt and the problem was obvious. The crude seams on the sides of the shirt were digging into his sides, forming a red trough on each side of him. The ribs on the shirt had also left red lines on his torso.
"Well, that won’t work," Ann shook her head.
"Maybe I should put the trainer on first," Quinn suggested.
"No," Ann said. "I remember mom being very clear about how to wear it and she always insisted that it had to have a chemise under it." She thought for a moment. "I have some, but they’d be too big for you." She thought some more, then she had a thought. "Ooh! I’ll be back." She ran out of the room, returning with something black and silky in her hands. "Take off that shirt."
When he’d removed his shirt and tossed it to the side, Ann handed him the black cloth. "Put this on."
"It’s one of mom’s nightgowns," Quinn stared at the item. It had spaghetti straps that met the inverted ‘V’ shape of the two breast cups with a tiny white bow over each breast. Other than those bows, there was no decoration.
"Yeah. You’re just about mom’s size. Put it on and let’s see if that works."
Quinn hesitated for a moment prompting Ann to say, "Quinn... it’s ok. Mom would just want you to not be in pain. She won’t mind."
"That’s not it." He just looked at it. "It..." he chocked as he tried to speak. "It... it still smells like mom. Annie... it’s been seven years and it still smells like mom!" Tears were filling his eyes.
"Oh, Quinn, honey, no, no... that’s the sachets of potpourri mom kept in her drawers. That’s what smells like mom. She always smelled like those."
It didn’t matter, though. Quinn had been kept in a an induced coma for days after the accident and when he awoke, nearly everything he heard horrified him, but the loss of his parents and a sibling had been overwhelmed by the news that he’d broken his back and may never walk, again. The psychologist that had attended to both Ann and Quinn had warned Ann that her little brother had not had the opportunity to grief and that someday – maybe a week from that day and maybe in twenty years – something would trigger the boy and his grieving process would begin. All of a sudden, it looked like this was that day.
And it was.
Suddenly, Quinn began to shake, nearly to the point of convulsions, and his tears burst out of him like a dam had just collapsed behind his eyes.
All of it was becoming clear to Quinn. He’d spent the last seven years fighting to get back his health and to build a future for himself, but he’d never fully realized that that future would not, could not ever, include his mother or his father or his brother Tony. They were gone – gone forever. He’d actually convinced a part of himself that, if he just worked harder at getting better, if he just pushed himself to take that next painful step, if he just was able to walk, and care for himself and work, everything would go back to how it had been, but now he knew that ‘how it had been’ was a fantasy. It was just him and Ann and he was nothing but a burden to her.
The tears came in torrents.
Ann patted his back and held him tightly. He was half a head shorter than her and he felt so small and vulnerable that Ann could not have let go if she’d wanted to. She cried a few tears herself and she clung tightly to the boy with the damp, red hair as he purged his anguish.
It was at least ten minutes, possibly much longer, before Quinn was able to get control of his breathing, again. It was at least another few minutes more before he realized that he was crying into his sister’s shoulder.
He gathered his strength and got a hold of himself. What had happened? He’d just... lost it! How? Why? It had been seven years! Why now?
He straightened up and pulled back from Ann’s embrace.
"Are you, ok?" She asked as gently as he could.
He nodded. "Yeah. I... I think so. I don’t really know what happened. I was just..." he looked at the nightgown in his hands. "All of a sudden, I just... missed them so much."
"I know," Ann kissed his cheek. "That was my fault. I’ll put this back and see if I have anything..."
"No!" Quinn was almost too forceful when Ann made to take the nightgown from him. "Sorry. No... no... it’s ok. I like that it smells like mom. I... I want to wear it."
Ann nodded and smiled. "Ok. Ok. Let me help you."
In a few moments, Quinn was wearing the sleek, mid-thigh reaching nightgown, breathing in the memory of his mother as he once again donned the waist trainer and connected the hooks to the eyes. Ann worked the lacings for him and pulled them as tight as he felt he could bear. The nightie and the trainer being the same color created the appearance of one garment instead of two.
"So," Ann looked him over, "how does the nightie feel?"
Quinn swayed from side to side a bit. "Very light. Soft."
She nodded. "Even nicer without body hair, I bet. So, that’s the comfortable part. Now, it’s time for the less comfortable part. Ready?"
"Ready for what?" Quinn found the remark odd.
"I have to set your hair. Come on. I haven’t done this for a while and mom always kept everything downstairs so she could do my hair while I sat in a kitchen chair. Tell you what, though - it’s getting late, so why don’t I call for pizza and we’ll bring a kitchen chair into the living room. We can eat pizza and watch Netflix or something after I set it."
"Ok," Quinn said as he followed her out of his room and down the stairs. "How do you go about ‘setting’ my hair, though?"
Ann laughed. "Why, with curlers, of course, Quinn. Barbie left me a little diagram outlining how I should do your hair. They want you to have some body in that lifeless mop of yours, so I’ll put the rollers in, pin them in place and douse you with setting solution. By morning, it’ll be dry and you’ll have some nice curl to your hair."
Curlers!? That had not occurred to Quinn at all. "I have to sleep in curlers?"
She nodded.
"Is that even possible?"
Ann laughed. "Lots of girls and women do it every night, Quinn. It’ll be uncomfortable for a little while, but you’ll get used to it pretty quickly and then you’ll sleep just fine. If all of this works out, you might want to consider getting a perm. They can give you some nice, loose body and you might be able to go without curlers, but for tonight... another chapter in the mysteries of womanhood is about to be revealed to you."
It took a few minutes to get everything together and call the pizza place across town, but pretty soon, Quinn was sitting in a kitchen chair in the living room, watching an old comedy with great music while Ann separated his hair into sections, inserted large clips into his hair to hold it in those sections, and began rolling the hair at the center of his head onto pink plastic curlers that had not been used in nearly a decade.
"I’ll do this for you for a few days, Quinn," Ann said, "but if this has to be done every night, then you’re going to have to learn to do it yourself."
"Ok," Quinn said.
As the minutes passed an, on the television, Jake and Elwood devised their plan to raise enough money to save the orphanage where they’d grown up, Quinn began to think - and then he felt the need to talk. Maybe it was because he was facing forward and Ann was behind him, or maybe it was because the way that Ann was touching his hair and speaking so quietly to him, but everything just felt so much more intimate and safe than it ever had before. So Quinn decided to say what he needed to say.
"Annie... I just want to say... thank you."
"Oh, that’s ok, Quinn," Ann let out a little laugh as she continued to roll his hair. "I’m really kind of enjoying this."
"No... Annie. I want to say... thank you. You know... for everything. I know that I’ve kind of ruined your life and I’m really sorry for that, but... I just wanted to say it... you know... just say thank you."
"Alright, now stop," Ann said a bit harshly. Now it was she who was fighting back some tears. She stopped her work and rubbed her bowed forehead with her hands. "Ohhhh, Quinn, Quinn, Quinn," she whispered. "Quinn... I never..." she stopped before she found herself lying. "Quinn." She paused again. "Honey... I may have felt... just a few times, when I was being selfish... Jesus..." she struggled. "Quinn. Life hasn’t been fair to us and, every now and then we all get to feeling sorry for ourselves, but Quinn..." she moved to be in front of him and knelt, taking his hands. "If I ever came across as not being happy, then... well, that’s me being a jackass. The truth is, Quinn... If I’d lost you, too, then... Quinn, I can’t imagine that. Honey, I love you. You know that, right?"
"Yeah, of course I know that, Annie, I just... I just feel sorry that I ruined your life. I’m not saying that because you’ve acted like I ruined it, it’s just that... I know what you wanted to do with your life and I know what your doing now. You never wanted to be a public school teacher like dad. You wanted to be a researcher, a writer, a college lecturer. You gave all of that up for me, and I just need to say thank you."
He must have heard her when she was feeling low. These were nearly the same words she’d uttered a million times when she was wallowing in self pity. He wasn’t supposed to hear that.
"No, Quinn. I’m sorry. I’m just... hey... let’s do this - You’re kind of starting a new life, now. You’re healthy again, you’ve got a new job, you’ve got college ahead of you... everything’s getting better. Let’s make a pact. Let’s support each other all the time, ok? Let’s just be a family, ok?"
Quinn smiled. "Ok. Brother and sister. Or..." he touched the mass of curlers in his hair, "... whatever."
There was a knock on the door. "The pizza is here. We’re good, right?"
He nodded. "We’re great."
"Cool," she kissed his forehead and hurried to the door, retrieved the pizza and placed it on the coffee table. "The pizza will have to wait. Two more curlers and we’re done."
A few minutes later and the last two curlers were in and she was tying a flowered, silk scarf around his curler covered head to keep everything in place when he went to bed.
"Ok, we’re done," she said as she tapped his shoulder to stand. When he turned to look at her, Ann had to marvel at how very girlish he already looked. The silk scarf and curlers framed a very cute, somewhat apple-shaped face, his neck was slender, narrow, small shoulders, slender arms, cute legs, the pretty nightie with the waist trainer creating not just a more narrow, feminine waist, but pushing up just enough flesh to give the impression of a girl who was in the process of leaving childhood behind and taking her first steps into developing into a woman.
There was one issue, though. One thing that looked incongruous. She knew how to fix that.
"Don’t sit, yet. I’ll be right back," she ordered as she turned and ran up the stairs.
Quinn took that opportunity to return the kitchen chair to its place at the table and the two of them returned to the living room at the same time. "What’s that?" Quinn asked, looking at a piece of cloth in his sister’s hands.
"The final touch," Ann laughed as she quickly knelt in front of him, then quite unexpectedly reached under the short skirt of Quinn’s nightie and pulled his boxers to the floor. "You look so good, but the bottoms of your boxers are sticking out. These will fix that."
Ann held up a pair of plain, silky, black panties. "Their a little granny-ish for someone your age, certainly not stylish enough for a fifteen year old like Louisa Harper, but they’ll do the job for tonight."
"I’m not wearing my mother’s panties!" Quinn was a bit horrified at the idea.
"Don’t worry," Ann smiled. She held up the panties and displayed a price tag being held on by a plastic thread. She pulled on the plastic thread, breaking it free of the panties. "Mom never wore them. I saw them in her drawer before. Step in." She held the panties open by his feet and Quinn stepped into them. Ann pulled them up under his skirt and settled them in place in his hips. Then she stood. "Nice, huh?"
In fact they felt nicer than Quinn wished to admit. So, he just nodded.
His sudden shyness amused Ann. She could tell that he was enjoying this – not just the soft feeling of the clothes. He was enjoying the forbidden nature of this adventure.
"Come on. It’s pizza time." Ann opened the box and handed a slice to her brother, then grabbed one for herself and sat next to him on the old couch. As they ate, she’d sneak peaks at him. It had been a long, difficult seven years since the accident and this may have been the first ‘normal’ night that she had shared with Quinn since that night. And in a way that could only happen in their family, their first ‘normal’ night involved having her little brother wearing his mother’s lingerie and having his hair up in curlers.
He did look awfully cute, though.
"Hey! How are you guys doing with the..." Barbara entered the house through the front door without knocking, as was her custom, but she came to a dead stop at the sight of Quinn. She looked from Quinn to Ann and back again several times before finally asking, "Getting into character?"
"In a way," Ann smiled as she responded. "Since the corset you had Quinn wear helped his back so much, we’re using mom’s waist trainer to give him the same kind of support. He needed something soft under it, so we used mom’s nightgown. The curlers are per your instructions."
Barbara could tell by the tone of her friend’s voice that this was all ‘a good thing,’ and that it should be treated as normal, so that’s what she did. "You look great, Quinny. Let me look at your face."
Quinn was still chewing a small bite of pizza, but he looked at Barbara and kept chewing.
Barbara held his face by his chin and looked at it closely. She smiled and looked at Ann. "He’s a cutie, isn’t he?"
"He sure is," Ann agreed. "I don’t want to jinx anything, but I think that you may have found yourself the perfect ‘Miss Louisa Harper.’"
"Of New York and Newport," Barbara agreed, using the real Louisa’s debutante title. "Are you ready to become a real girl, Quinny?"
"I think I am," Quinn smiled.
Barbara winked at him. "You’re going to love it, Quinny. I promise."
To Be Continued...
On Becoming Miss Louisa Harper of New York and Newport - 2
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of New York and Newport: 2
part of his life creeps unrelentingly into his real life
Author's Note:Thank you for your comments and critiques. Please keep them coming.
They are very helpful to me. ~Clara
This version of On Becoming Miss Louisa Harper of New York and Newport: 2 has been updated with many corrections towards spelling and grammar.~Sephrena.
Image Credit: Image created through the use of ai at https://perchance.org/beautiful-people .~Sephrena.
Chapter 2
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'am' 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.
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.
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.
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."
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'am,"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 AMAZING! 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 maître 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."
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.
To Be Continued...
On Becoming Miss Louisa Harper of New York and Newport - 3
Author:
Audience Rating:
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TG Themes:
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of New York and Newport: 3
feelings of all kinds are occupying his thoughts. A new dress for his outing with
Ricky, and some thoughts that are confusing him make his evening out one of
the most enlightening of his young life.
Author's Note:Thank you once again for your supportive comments and critiques. Please do keep them coming.~Clara
This version of On Becoming Miss Louisa Harper of New York and Newport: 3 has been updated with many corrections towards spelling and grammar.~Sephrena.
Image Credit: Image created through the use of ai at https://perchance.org/beautiful-people .~Sephrena.
Chapter 3
From 'The Autobiography of Miss Louisa Harper'
~ "Langdon Beech-Thorndyke III was 'a catch.' Mother and Father thought that he would be a perfect match for me. He was twenty three and I was fifteen. My parents hoped that we would become betrothed that summer and then a grandiose wedding would follow in three years after I turned eighteen.
This was my sister's summer, though. Miranda would be married in August to a Vanderbilt cousin who she barely knew. The opulent affair was scheduled for August seventeenth at Golden Bluffs. The night prior, the Vanderbilts would host a rehearsal dinner down the street at The Breakers. There would be parties and balls all summer long, but these two events were the events of that summer.
There was a shadow cast on those events, though. My sister was twenty four years old, nearly a spinster by the standards of the New York/Newport elite. She had been engaged twice before, and both engagements had ended in controversial tragedy.
Her first fiancé was involved in an embezzling scheme designed to steal large amounts of money from Father's firm. When his duplicity was discovered, rather than bringing loose lipped law enforcement into a situation, which would certainly lead to terrible publicity for everyone involved, he was, instead, ruined financially and disowned by his family. I think that Miranda truly loved him, but she could never have suffered the shame of being his wife, so their engagement was quietly called off and, after a season of respectful solitude, she was back on the list of eligible young women.
Her second fiancé was a very sweet man, but I don't think that she ever had real feelings for him. He was just a means to a financially secure life for her. After they announced their engagement, they spent nearly no time together at all. He would drop by with colleagues and spend one or two days at Golden Bluffs, riding, shooting, sailing, but always with his friends. Miranda would be left alone at Golden Bluffs while he and his friends got up to no good.
A week before their wedding, we received word that his body had been found floating in the East River near Roebling's bridge that connected Manhattan to Brooklyn. I heard whispers of improprieties, but the details were never discussed in my presence.
One would have expected that Miranda would have been devastated, but I believe that she was actually relieved to be free of that commitment.
Miranda's third fiancé was a very wealthy, very cold man with little or no interest in Miranda as anything other than an ornament to be worn on his arm. He was fat, bald and fifty two years old, but he did offer her the security that she desired. He owned a large home in Yonkers and a handsome estate in Newport. The estate was nowhere near as grand as Golden Bluffs or The Breakers, but it was nice enough for her to play hostess without embarrassment.
When I saw her bridal dress, I thought it was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen and I was sure that she would shine like the sun when she wore it, and I told her as much.
Miranda scowled and shook her head. "I wish it was a mourning dress," she said. "I have no feelings for this man at all, Louisa. He is a vile, smelly pig, but I take solace in the fact that he will most likely be dead in less than five years."
I must admit that I was not shocked by the callousness of Miranda's remarks, but they did cause me to reevaluate my expected betrothal to Langdon Beech-Thorndyke III. I knew that women had very little say in their futures, but the day that I heard my sister say those words was the day that I determined that my choices would be my own. No one else's. Regardless of what my parents wanted me to do, I would chart the course of my own life."
The next day went pretty well for Quinn at Golden Bluffs. He tried to put his own hair up into the Gibson Girl hair style, but was not very successful. Barbara assisted and patiently guided him through his second, and only slightly more successful, attempt. The third time he tried, he succeed to the point that Barbara proclaimed it, "Good enough for today."
He had more success with his makeup, though. The printed instructions that Barbara provided were concise and easy to understand. He received a 'good job' after only his second attempt.
Monica had called and said that she'd be in at one o'clock and that she'd be very happy to keep drilling Quinn on how to present himself to guests of the museum.
"I think it would be a good idea for you to wear a formal gown, this afternoon," Barbara said. "There are some differences. A formal gown has even more elaborate undergarments and requires even more practice. After lunch, I'll get you into one of the ones you'll be wearing to the weddings coming up in ten days. Hopefully, with the museum opening this Saturday, you'll be used to dealing with guests by then."
Quinn had borrowed a dress from his mother's closet that morning. It was not exactly the kind of dress he found attractive on a woman, but it fit. It was a grey-blue shirt dress with a fairly wide matching belt. It buttoned up the front and fell fairly drably to his knees. The manly collar and cuffs did nothing to express the beauty of its wearer, at least in Quinn's opinion.
"Hey, umm... Barbara, umm... I was wondering if during our lunch break today... if you wouldn't mind, I mean... if it's not too
inconvenient..." Quinn was still feeling odd about asking Barbara to take him to a discount store to buy a dress for that night.
"Quinny, I'm going to stop you right there." Barbara smiled and patted his shoulders. "Annie told me that you want to buy a new dress to wear to class tonight. Sure, I'll drive you to the outlets, but only under three conditions."
"What are those?" Quinn was concerned that she was going to say something along the lines of she'd take him once he mastered the hairdo on his own. In that case, he'd never get there.
"Number one, you let me help you pick out a dress. Number two, you let me pay for it. And number three, on the way there, you have to agree to tell me about this boy that's taking you out after class."
Quinn had no issues with the first two stipulations, but the third proviso bothered him.
"He's not taking me out, it's just coffee."
"Yes, he is, so I want to know about him."
"It's not a date, Barbara. He's gay. He thinks I'm a girl. He has no interest in me."
"Yes, he does. Coffee and a ride all the way up to the northern tip of the island is a date, Quinny? That's a boy who is hot and bothered. End of story. So... do we go get in my car and you tell me everything you know about him, or do we stay here and continue to have this pointless discussion?"
Quinn weighed those options. Why was everyone making such a big deal out of having coffee with a guy. Didn't people have coffee together every day? But still... he wanted to look nice for him... no, not for him, for class... and this dress he'd taken from his mother's closet did not fit that bill at all. So... what were his options?
"Alright. I'll tell you about him, but don't make a great big deal out it, ok? It's just coffee."
"I believe that 'just coffee' is a plot point in just about every Meg Ryan, Michelle Pfeiffer and Sandra Bullock movie I've ever seen. So... I promise that I won't make a big deal out of it, but trust me, little lady... it is a big deal."
Barbara started to take off her work apron, while Quinn protested some more. "No it isn't. He's just a nice guy and we got along well, and he...
Barbara began to sing at the top of her lungs drowning out Quinn's objections, "Your are fifteen, going on sixteen, baby it's time to think. Better beware, be canny and careful, baby you're on the brink."
"Those aren't even the right lyrics," Quinn complained. "It's 'you are sixteen going on seventeen,' and besides, I'm twenty one."
Suddenly, Barbara turned and looked at Quinn with a seriousness that surprised him. "No, you're not, Quinn. Yes, you've been alive for twenty one years, but in a lot of ways, you stopped maturing when you were fourteen. Since then, you've had almost no social interactions at all. People can be mean and terrible, Quinny. You need to be very, very careful about who you trust your heart to. Trust me. I know."
Quinn was shocked at the serious turn the conversation had taken. "Ok." He didn't quite know what else to say. "I'll be careful. Ok?"
Barbara smiled, but Quinn could see that her eyes were a little teary. "That's my girl. Now, let's go find you a pretty dress." Then, as they crossed the parking lot to her car, Barbara broke out in song again, "I feel pretty. Oh, so pretty. I feel pretty and witty and bright. And I pity any girl who isn't Quinn tonight..."
She went on and Quinn would have preferred if she didn't tease him quite so relentlessly, but he just smiled at her and waited for the sound of the door locks releasing before climbing into the passenger seat of her Prius.
When they arrived at the outlets, Barbara led Quinn away from the store where he'd planned to shop. "But I looked at their stuff online and it seemed cheapest," he complained.
"There's a difference between cheap and inexpensive, Quinny. That store has 'cheap' clothing. It won't hang nicely and will only last a few washings before it's faded, shrunk or falling apart. Now, the store I'll take you to is... somewhat... inexpensive. It's a real outlet. The clothes are just as good as the clothes they sell in their regular stores. It's high quality, it'll fit well and it will last for years. We may spend a little more, but, penny for penny, it'll be a better investment. Besides - It's my money. So just relax and learn how to shop correctly."
They entered Barbara's chosen store and Quinn watched as she strolled slowly through the racks, hemming and hawing over items, seemingly rejecting items for no reason. When Quinn asked why, she was happy to explain. She pulled a hanger out and hung it from the rack in such a way that the front of the dress faced them. Then she grabbed another and did the same. "Ok, so, these dresses look pretty much the same, right?"
Quinn looked confused. "Not really. I mean, one is orange and one is purple."
That made Barbara smile. "Yes, That's true, but they are both similar in style. Both sleeveless, both scooped necked, both wide skirted, right? Well, look more closely. The seams on the orange dress are all subtle and smoothly sewn, while the seams on the purple one are puckered here and there. Here, look inside and it's more obvious. The purple dress has chunky seams with excess thread all over them while the orange dress has small, carefully crafted seams that are clean and free of excess thread. Do you see? That's important when picking your clothes. A well made dress will work hard for you and look pretty for years. Do you understand?"
Quinn nodded. "Yeah. I guess, so." He looked from one dress to another, then asked, "So... we're buying the orange one?"
"Oh, my God, no, Quinn!" Barbara laughed, but sounded shocked at the very idea. "You have pale skin and red hair, honey. That would look terrible on you! To tell you the truth, it'd look terrible on me or Annie, too. It's just too bright. A woman with dark skin, though - that dress would make her look beautiful. Quality, color and style are all important for a girl's clothes, Quinny. Oh! Oh! Wait! Oh, Quinn, look at this. It's perfect! Come on. Let's have you try this on."
"Oh, Monica, I'm so sorry we're late!" Barbara apologized as she hustled Quinn into her workshop. Both were carrying several bags. "Quinn has a date tonight and I guess I got a little carried away helping her pick out a dress."
"A date?" Monica smiled as she took a hanger carrying a shinny, silver gown from a rack. The older woman was wearing a simple silk combination, a beautifully constructed corset and a corset cover hung unbuttoned from her shoulders. "How exciting! New guy?"
"Quinn? Monica asked you a question," Barbara said to the embarrassed boy.
He sighed. "Yes. I just met him last night, but I keep telling everyone - it's not a date. It's just coffee."
"Ooh!" Monica gushed. "Coffee is a nice. The opportunity to sit and chat and get to know each other better. Maybe much better..." her voice rose insinuatingly at the end of that sentence.
"I keep telling people, this guy, Ricky, is gay. He just wants to be friends." Quinn was a bit embarrassed, but was enjoying the attention.
"Of course he does,"Monica teased, sounding unconvinced. "Try to get a picture of him, sweetie. I'd love to see what your friend looks like."
"Oh," Quinn grabbed his phone. "I have some photos. He took a bunch of selfies on my phone last night. Here. That's Ricky."
Monica looked at the photo, then at Barbara. "Have you seen this boy?"
"No," Barbara answered as she came to see the photo. "Why? Is he gruesome or something." She looked at the picture, then snatched the phone away from Quinn to get a better look. "Geez Louise, Quinny, that boy is gorgeous! THAT'S the boy who's interested in you?"
"Come on," Quinn still enjoyed the teasing, but wanted to make it clear that nothing romantic was going to come of this casual get together. "Ricky is a really nice guy, but he has absolutely no interest in dating me."
Monica laughed. "Ok. If you say so." Her smile, though, made it clear that she remained unconvinced. She turned her attention to Barbara and said, "I was just looking for this gown. It wasn't in my cubby."
"No, I fixed the hem in the back where your heel caught it on New Year's Eve. It's all set now, though. Why don't you give me a half an hour or so to get Quinn ready, then she'll meet you upstairs and we'll get her used to the gown."
Monica nodded. She looked at Quinn and smiled. "See you then, sweetheart."
"Ok," Quinn said and smiled. When he looked at Barbara, she was holding his phone and Ricky's photo was still displayed and smirking. "It's not a date."
"It's a date, Quinny."
"No, it isn't."
"He's blowing you a kiss."
"It's not a date."
"He's adorable, he's blowing you a kiss, and he asked you out!"
"Just for coffee!"
"It's a date!"
"No, it's NOT a date!"
"What do I have to do to convince you, Quinny? This is wonderful! It's your first date and not only is he handsome, he's flirting with you by taking selfies! You should be thrilled!"
Quinn turned to the rack of clothing and said, "What gown am I wearing today?"
"Quinn, come on at least acknowledge..."
His next remarks even surprised Quinn. Not only because he half barked them at his friend, but because of what he actually said. "Barbara! It's not a date! He's not into me. He's gay and thinks I'm a girl! No interest. I'm a guy in a dress, but I'm still a guy and I'm not gay, so I can't be interested in him."
"But..." Barbara wanted to calm him down, but also help him understand his own feelings.
"No! Barbara! I AM NOT GAY! I can't be! I've never had feelings like that! I'm not... that! I am not gay, but I am..."
"What, Quinny? You are... what?"
He hung his head for a moment, then said, "... I'm lonely, Barbara. I'm so... so... so lonely." When he looked at Barbara, his eyes were watery. "I have spent seven years... alone. You and Annie and your mom, you've been great, but... Ricky is handsome and funny and everyone likes him... and he's my age, Barbara. He makes me laugh and he likes me. He's not 'into me,' he just... likes me. Annie has to like me, I'm her brother. You and Mrs Jenkins... You guys are great, but... to you, I'm just... well, no matter what, you'll just always feel sorry for me - for the accident and losing my family... for the rehab - all of it. I'll always just be a victim."
"Oh, Quinn, no..." she started, but Quinn continued.
"Yes, Barbara. There's just no way around it. I'm very thankful for your friendship, but... do you get what I'm saying? Ricky is the first person in seven years who wants to be my friend, and hasn't had to give me a sponge bath... or change my diapers... or seen me struggle to stand and use a walker, or crutches. When he looks at me... yeah, I know he's not seeing the REAL me because of the dress and all, but... he's not seeing THAT me. To him, I'm not 'Poor Quinn.' I'm just... Quinn. Does any of that make sense?"
"Oh... Quinn..." Barbara made to hug him, but he stopped her.
"Please... don't feel sorry for the me."
"I'm not, Quinn. I want to hug you because I just realized how amazing you really are. Please, give me a hug."
He did.
When she released him, she sniffled just a bit, then immediately went back into professional mode. "Ok. So, today you are wearing this." She pulled a gown from the rack. "It's made from this rich green, silk taffeta, with lace inserts in the bodice and on the back of the skirt. There are two tricky things to moving in it though. Number one, the train is really long and wide. You'll have to scoop it in your arms when walking on stairs and be careful when you're near other people because it's a danger to them, too. Number two is this," she turned the skirt inside out to display a strange couple of straps at the bottom, near the front. The straps were tied together and seemed like a ludicrously dangerous hazard to the wearer. "These straps are tied to control the shape of the skirt. It allows the upper dress to be full and voluptuous but keep the front from flaring as widely as that much material normally would. It does require that you take very small steps, though, so that your foot doesn't get fouled up in the straps. Ok?"
Quinn nodded. "Is that something that you added, or is it historically accurate?"
"It's historically accurate."
"Really?" He was shocked. "Why would women wear something like that?"
"Because it's pretty," Barbara smiled. "And, in your case, with your pale complexion and that beautiful red hair, this deep green is going to look amazing."
The combination he put on was less decorative than the ones he'd worn before, but the silk from which it was made was as soft and smooth as Quinn could imagine anything being. The silk stockings were white and were secured to his thighs with green silk bows that matched the gown. The corset was brilliant green and had two small clips, similar to large Bobby pins, on the front. The corset cover was thin, soft, white cotton that had patterns of small, delicate eyelets across the front. The bustle pad was less thick than the one he'd worn before and was made of the same green silk that covered the corset. The inner petticoat was thick and plain in front, but the back was a waterfall of frills. The outer petticoat was just three layers of the thinnest, lightest silk you could imagine, and it was secured in the front to the clips on the corset to ensure that it didn't rise up and interfere with the line of the dress' bodice. The skirt was a rich Emerald green that hung nicely in front of him, expanded a bit to the sides and then sloped elegantly from the back of his waist, over the bustle pad, over the layers and layers of fringe on the petticoats and spilled magnificently across the floor behind him. There was no other ornamentation needed on the skirt because the bodice was breathtaking.
It fit as if it had been made specifically for Quinn's corseted form and small breasts. It's green material hugged his narrow sides and spread across his wider hips, and the lower hem followed the shape of his hips, with a slight dip in the hemline in the front and rear. It rode up to just barely cover his very modest breasts, didn't quite enter his armpits, but provided two loose fitting loops of material that sat limply, yet prettily, on his upper arms. Just a beautiful dress like that would have been breathtaking, but added to it was iridescent silver thread that formed tiny, intricate, delicate, feminine bows embroidered all about the front of the top.
Quinn stared at himself in the mirror, his hair piled, once again, in the Gibson Girl style, the Diamond studs he'd had installed the previous day, a delicate Diamond pendant sitting near the implied cleavage and his soft, pale upper chest, neck and shoulders exposed and contrasted beautifully against the rich emerald color and he could only marvel at his own beauty.
The deep breath he took sounded like a shiver.
"Nice, huh?" Barbara asked, standing beside him.
"Beautiful," he said, not looking away from the mirror. "You made this."
"Every stitch," she smiled. "It's based on a dress Louisa wore in a photograph taken on July fourth, eighteen ninety. They had a massive event here that year and it was one of the most photographed events of that part of Louisa's life. I used computers to analyze the photos and figure out the colors in all of the fabrics. I think this is pretty close to the original piece. It took me four days just to make the gown. A week on the silver decorations, a couple of days on the petticoats and the bustle pad. Just the corset took almost two days. I love this dress, Quinny, and I am so happy that it looks this good on you." She fussed with a few stray hairs. "It's a dress fit for a princess. It's a dress you deserve to wear." She kissed his cheek. "Let's go upstairs. Remember, small steps."
Ann arrived at Golden Bluffs at four that afternoon. Barbara had sent a text stating that Quinn would be done by three thirty, but by the time Ann had met with students for extra help, she was already running later than she'd hoped. This 'date thing' had her a bit worried, but she kept telling herself that Quinn was an adult and she needed to let him find his own way.
She opened the door to Barbara's workshop and called, "Hello!" into the room.
"Oh, hey," Barbara appeared. Strangely, she was wearing clothes that were definitely not work clothes. Tight skirt, sleeveless tank top and heels - she was also wearing makeup, which was actually pretty rare for Barbara.
"Do you have a date, too?" Ann asked, teasing just a bit.
"I do," Barbara smiled.
"Who's the lucky guy?"
"You are," she said, grabbing her purse. "Quinn has lots of time before his class, you probably had nothing for dinner last night and won't get home till after seven thirty, so you and Quinn and I are going to go to Mastro's for a nice dinner before his class."
"That sounds great," Ann replied, a little sadly, "but with the amount of money I've spent on Quinn this week, I just cannot afford to eat someplace like Mastro's."
"That's why it's my treat," Barbara seemed very upbeat that evening. She checked her look in the mirror. "I clean up pretty nicely, don't I?"
"Yes, you do," Ann said, but she didn't want to have her friend paying for her dinner. "Barbie, I appreciate the offer, but..."
"But nothing," Barbara paid no attention to Ann's concerns. "Annie, I have a good income, I live in my mother's house, rent free, I have no plans for the evening, so I am going to Mastro's and I am buying three meals. Now, you and Quinn can come along and eat two of those meals, or you can not come, I'll still order the food, and you will be responsible for the food being tossed in the trash. Your choice."
Ann laughed. "Ok. We'll come, but only because I couldn't handle the guilt of wasting the food. So... where's Quinn?"
Barbara looked around, then smiled in a very satisfied way. She took out her phone and showed Ann a photo. "Look at this. I put him in my favorite dress today. What do you think?"
Ann looked at the photo of Quinn in the green gown. She shook her head in amazement. "You've done an unbelievable job on him, Barbie. He looks more like Louisa than anyone else I've ever seen working here."
"I know, right, but... Look, Annie, Quinn's a little freaked out about this whole 'Ricky' thing."
"Yeah. Him and me, both."
Barbara blinked at her friend. "Really? You'd be upset if it turned out that Quinn was gay?"
"What? No! Of course not," Ann said, a bit insulted. "It's just that I never considered that he was. I mean, at fourteen, he was only interested in soccer and superhero movies. The only crush I ever suspected was the crush he has always had on you. So, the idea that he was gay is just as alien to me to as the idea that he was Asian - mean, like, how is that something I wouldn't have noticed? Frankly, the 'gay' part of this doesn't bother me nearly as much as the idea that he's entering this date as a very naïve girl. I'm just worried about him because he's an innocent little girl and God knows how much experience this Ricky guy has."
"Ok, calm down," Barbara said as she looked towards the hallway door. "I'm pretty sure that I just heard Monica's laugh, so they're probably on their way back. So, let's just chill. We'll both tell him to be cautious and I'm sure that everything will go fine."
"Yeah, but what if..." Ann was going to continue the conversation, but she stopped when she heard the hallway door open.
"Now, you have a great time, sweetheart, and remember - Don't do anything that I wouldn't do." They heard Monica talking and laughing. "And yeah, I know, I know, it's not a date. Have a good time, anyway."
Monica came around the racks first. "I'll see you tomorrow, Barb. Oh, hi! It's Ann, right. Nice to see you, again. I just love your sister. I wish she really was my daughter. God, I wish I had been that smart and lovely at her age. Well, good night, all!" She disappeared out the door in the wall behind Ann.
Monica had been so focused on leaving work that she barely noticed that Ann hadn't said anything. The reason for that was, for the third, or fourth, or fifth time in just a few days, Ann had been struck mum by the sight of her brother.
Barbara had done his hair differently, with a strip of hair from each side of the front of his hairline, pulled back to keep his hair off of his face. Those strips of hair were held in the back of his head by a large, playful bow that matched his dress - and what a dress it was.
I had a classic, mid-twentieth century vibe to it. It would have been commonplace on any young woman from 1935 to 1965, and just considered 'classic' from then on, but it was striking.
To begin with, it was yellow, but not a soft, subtle yellow, while also not a garish yellow. Just a perfect yellow. The yellow material had a floral pattern on it, but the medium sized flowers were meant to look like white drawings of flowers. They were several different styles of wildflowers with stems and leaves that looked as if they'd been drawn in pen and ink style on plain white paper, perfectly cut out and some how applied to the dress.
The material was soft and just a bit clingy. Enough to fit and emphasize a woman's bosom. On a larger woman's chest, it would have looked curvy and luscious, but on Quinn, it gave the shape of the bra that contained his gentle little breasts a look of a virginal promise of things to come.
The skirt was gathered at the high waist and hung beautifully from there to just below his knees.
Above that was a wide, form fitting area that ran from the high waistline to just beneath his bust. It clung nicely to his corseted torso, making him look delicate and girlishly shapely.
Then, the things that really set the dress apart, stood out.
The neckline plunged from wide on his soft shoulders down into his modest cleavage, displaying, even on someone as under developed as Quinn, shadows that spoke of the soft, exciting feel of the breasts within.
Then the sleeves. The sleeves were short and sat very high on his slender arms, but the perfect, little puff ball shape of them gave the wearer the soft innocent look of a little girl. The word 'womanchild' would probably be the best description of how Ann's innocent, little brother looked.
Quinn noticed his sister's expression and looked down at his dress, a dress that he'd fallen in love with the moment he'd seen how he looked while wearing it. "What? Don't you like it?" He absent mindedly took hold of both sides of the skirt and fluffed it just a bit.
Ann looked at Barbara and shook her head. "I'm going to assume that you picked this out."
"We picked it out together," Barbara smiled proudly.
"I'm also going to assume that this cost a lot more than the forty dollars I gave him to buy a dress."
"Not a lot more," Barbara still looked proud.
"Barbie, you can't keep..."
"Alright," Barbara nodded. "I'll stop, now. Well, right after dinner, ok? It was so much fun, though, Annie. Quinn had never been dress shopping before. It was like I had a little girl to spoil. I didn't intend to buy everything that we bought, it just happened and I don't regret it for a moment."
"You didn't intend to buy 'everything?' How much did you buy?"
She thought for a moment. "Not much. Just..." she sighed dramatically. "... four dresses, two slips and two new pairs of shoes - BUT they were all on sale AND that was on top of the outlet price. So it wasn't that much."
Ann looked at Quinn and shook her head. "You look beautiful, Quinn. Scary beautiful, actually."
Quinn looked down at the dress, confused. "Scary?"
"Quinn," she spoke as lovingly as she could, "that dress is not just pretty. It's sexy as hell, and I'm a little scared that you'll be sending this Ricky guy a very dangerous message by wearing it."
"Oh, now stop it," Barbara interrupted. "You know better than to shameblame someone for their clothes."
"You know that's not what I'm saying," Ann shook her head. "Quinn... you've told me at least a dozen times that this is not a date. So... if it's not a date, why dress like it is?"
Suddenly, Quinn looked crestfallen.
"I don't mean to be over critical, or anything, honey, but... think about the message that this dress is sending."
Barbara listened to her friend and thought back to her conversation with Quinn earlier in the day. "Annie... just stop, ok. Quinn looks amazing, end of story."
"Barbie, I'm just trying to tell him to be careful."
"Then tell him. Then tell him that he's beautiful, that you love him and that you hope that his coffee get together goes well. But no more criticisms, Annie."
Ann looked from her stern faced friend to her sad little brother and shook her head. What was she doing!? She sounded just like her own mother. When Ann had started dating at sixteen, her mother drove her nuts and drove a wedge between the two of them with her constant harping about being careful. She hated her mother for several years because of that kind of criticism. Is this really how she wanted to treat Quinn?
She walked over to her brother and looked him up and down. "Quinn... you look better than amazing. You look... perfect."
"Like the new Princess of Newport," Barbara said quietly from a few feet away.
Ann smiled. "Like the new 'Princess of Newport.' Quinn... I love you so much and I just don't want anything to happen to you. So... don't go anywhere secluded with this boy. Never leave your drink out of your sight, men have been known to drug girls through their drinks. Don't let him talk you into doing anything you don't want to do and, above all, please, please, please..." she put a hand on each of his shoulders and stepped closer to hug him, "...please forgive your idiot sister for everything she just said, because she couldn't stand it if you ever stopped loving her."
"No chance of that Annie," Quinn laid his head on her shoulder. "Thank you."
Dinner was uneventful. Ann had pasta primavera, Barbara had eggplant parmesan and Quinn just had a bowl of Italian Wedding Soup because he didn't want to feel heavy and bloated at dance class.
There were a few remarks made about the dangers of falling for a guy too quickly and Quinn just shook his head at those.
There was also a moment when Ann made a comment about Barbara knowing about being heart broken, but Barbara put an end to that topic immediately, leaving Quinn to wonder what had happened.
Finally, just before seven that night, Barbara's little hybrid pulled up in front of the studio. She put the car in park and looked into the back seat. "This is it, Quinny. Have a great time, and remember - whatever happens, we love you."
Quinn thought that was an odd statement, but decided that it was meant to be supportive, so he just said, "Thank you, Barbara."
Ann got out of the passenger seat, then opened the back door and extended a hand to help Quinn get out. They walked in silence to the door and then Ann asked, "Are you ready for this."
Quinn smiled and nodded. "Yeah. How about you?"
That made Ann smile, too. "I think so. It's just hard to see my little boy all grown up to be such a pretty woman." She kissed his cheek. "Have a great night, Quinn, but..." she thought about giving him another warning, but realized that there was no reason to do that, so she changed tacts. "... don't stay out too late. We have to set your hair when you get home and I have school in the morning."
He smiled, knowing she was just teasing. "I'll do my best."
They kissed each other's cheeks and Quinn disappeared into the studio.
Ann pulled the front passenger seat door open and sat down again. She looked back at where Quinn had just been standing and she asked her closest friend, "Do you think he's going to be ok?"
"Yeah," Barbara answered. "I think he's going to be great."
From 'The Autobiography of Miss Louisa Harper'
~ "My first date with Langdon, or Lanny as he was called, was arranged by our mother's, which was odd, since I'd known Lanny since the day I was born. Formality and discretion were important for the societal norms of our community of wealth and pretense.
We met on the east veranda of Golden Bluffs for afternoon tea. Lanny looked very handsome in a linen suit, smelling of Pinaud Clubman aftershave, his light brown hair darkened a bit by the bear grease in his pomade. Both of our mothers as well as Father acted as chaperones on that first afternoon. Tea was lovely. Father and Lanny both preferred coffee with their finger sandwiches and petit fours.
I had been given very specific instructions that, while at the table, I was to only speak when spoken to and to keep my responses short and polite. Mother and Mrs Beech-Thorndyke discussed what dress I'd be wearing to the upcoming ball, while Father and Lanny discussed business and investments, and I sat in the middle, listening to both conversation and awaiting the opportunity to answer any questions directed towards me.
"The silk chiffon came from Paris and is being worked by Chappell and Cormier Clothiers of Fifth Avenue," I could hear on my right side. "We found the most elegant drawings from a Parisian designer and Antoine is working from those to create her gown. We could have ordered it from Paris, of course, but she is developing so quickly, now, that we didn't know how to anticipate her curves ahead of time."
"She certainly is," Mrs Beech-Thorndyke stated, as she pursed her lips and looked at me with the eye of a person considering the purchase of a horse, annoying me in the process. "Just a year ago, I remember her being as flat as a board, but her figure does show some promise, now."
"Indeed," Mother played the part of the horse's salesman. "Little bulbs grow into beautiful tulips."
As embarrassing as I found that conversation on my right, from my left I could hear, "The steel industry is just not as profitable as it was thirty years ago." Father lamented the difficulty of his life. "Railroad construction has slowed, of course, but the real problem is in the factories and the mines. These uneducated mongrels don't understand finance. They're not interested in hearing how much hard work and sacrifice goes into making the profits that pay their outrageous salaries. Instead of being grateful for the jobs they have been given, they think that they're entitled to a portion of the profits."
"Ludicrous," Lanny spat, disgusted by the very idea of these people wanting to earn a living. "Mark my words, these unions that they are trying to start in every factory in the country will be the death of the entire American way of life."
I wanted so badly to comment on Father and Lanny's conversation, but my attention was drawn back to the right side when I had to request that Mother repeat her question. "The ball, Louisa. Do you know if The Commodore's granddaughter will be there?"
By 'The Commodore's Granddaughter,' she was referring to Gertrude Vanderbilt, who was the same age as I and my biggest social rival on both the islands of Manhattan and Aquidneck. My answer should have been, 'Yes, mother, I'm sure she will be. I saw her in town last month and she said as much.'
Instead, my mouth asked the question my brain had formed by listening to Father and Lanny. "Why should the person working in the factory not have at least some share of the profits created by his work?"
Mother's eyes opened nearly as widely as Mrs Beech-Thorndyke's mouth gapped. The men just grew silent and looked at me with pity for my ignorance. Eventually, my father's head shook, just a bit, and he turned to Lanny and said, with disdain dripping from each word, "You'll have your hands full with that one. Her mother did not teach her her place."
Lanny smirked and gave me a look of superiority that cut me as deeply as a blade. "Don't worry, Mr Harper. I have broken-in many a filly in my day and I enjoy the challenge. This one comes from good stock and I appreciate a challenge."
Until that moment, I don't think I fully understood the passion that hatred could arouse.
"Oh, my goodness," Sylvia gushed as Quinn entered the studio. "You look just precious in that dress, Quinn. Oh, it is such a breath of fresh air to see a young woman who truly enjoys being a girl. So many women these days never get out of a pair of jeans or an ugly business suit." She said with pity in her voice. "A young woman should look like a young woman. But, of course, you already knew that." She smiled and turned to the rest of the class. "Look who's here, everyone!"
"Quinn!" Everyone greeted him. "So glad you came back." "Ricky will be so happy that you're here." "You look lovely, Quinn." Quinn decided that this wasn't so bad. These were really nice people.
"Alright, ladies and gentlemen," Ken said, calling everyone to order. "It's Wednesday, and that means it's Ladies' Choice. So, what's the first dance, ladies?"
At that moment, every woman shouted something different.
"I heard Bossa Nova!" Ken announced. "So, grab your partners and let's review the steps before we start."
Quinn looked around. Ricky was nowhere to be seen. He felt a wave of disappointment pass over him. He'd put in a lot of effort to look nice tonight, and now... no Ricky. The one plus at this moment was that the Bossa Nova wasn't a dance he needed to know, so he didn't need to dance right now. He headed for the snack table to get a bottle of water.
"May I have this dance?" A man asked from behind Quinn before he reached the table.
Quinn turned and saw a man he'd been introduced to the previous night, but he could not remember the man's name. "Oh, umm, thank you, umm..."
"Abner," the octogenarian said with a friendly smile.
Quinn apologized. "I'm sorry. I didn't catch everyone's name last night. Thank you, Abner, but I think I'll sit this one out."
"What?" The man's eyes opened wide. "Sitting out a Bossa Nova is unheard of." He smiled a very sweet smile. "Come on, dear. I know that I'm no spring chicken, but I still have a few moves in me and I promise not to step on your toes."
Quinn had no choice but to smile at his sincerity. "Ok, thank you. I don't know the steps, though."
"It's easy,"Abner said. He took Quinn into the proper position. "Follow me." He explained the steps and soon the music began. "Hold on tight, my dear, and enjoy yourself."
The older man recited the steps to Quinn as he led the boy around the dance floor. As he had the night before, Quinn found that the dance was easy once he'd been around the floor a few times, and more importantly, it was a lot of fun.
When the song ended, Judy called out, "What's next, ladies?"
Sylvia was first to respond. "Boogie-Woogie!"
The group of older people all let out sounds of approval.
"May I take over?" A man who, Quinn eventually remembered, was named Sten, asked. The man was well over six feet tall and nearly as broad, but not flabby at all - Just powerful.
"Be careful," Abner teased. "She's breakable."
Sten smiled. "I'll be gentle."
Quinn explained, again, that he had never done this dance before, and just as Abner had, Sten explained the steps and reminded him that having fun was the primary goal.
Dance after dance went by and dance after dance led to a new, elderly, yet spry dance partner. Had he been just observing the event from the outside. Quinn may have made jokes about the dirty old men wanting to dance with the pretty, young woman, but that was not the reality of the situation. These were just kind men who loved to dance in these bygone styles and who were sharing that love with the young person who'd joined their group. Each time an older man danced with Quinn, there was an older woman who was happily sitting that dance out so that this newcomer could learn and have fun, too. It was as if Quinn had suddenly been adopted by six or seven new sets grandparents and it was kind of sweet and lovely.
Nearly forty five minutes of dancing with different partners had passed and Quinn was being instructed on the nuances of a proper fox trot when someone who sounded rushed and a bit breathless asked, "May I cut in?"
"Ricky!" He man who was Quinn's current partner smiled and slapped the younger man on the shoulder. "You made it! We've been keeping your friend company until you got here."
"Thanks," Ricky smiled, then looked at Quinn and smiled. "Hi."
When he had arrived and a Ricky wasn't there, Quinn had been very disappointed, a little hurt and a bit angry, but all of these sweet grandpas had taken such good care of him that he'd gotten past it. At this point, he wasn't at all upset and he was surprised to feel those tingles again when he looked at Ricky's smile. "Hi."
Ricky leaned forward and said, "I'm so sorry. I got held up at work. I was supposed to get out at five thirty, but the person who was supposed to relieve me was running late because of a sick child and I would have called, but I'm not allowed to have my phone with me when I'm working and by the time I got out to my car, you would have already been in here, so I did send a text, but..."
Quinn was surprised by the onslaught of words and apologies. "Ricky, Ricky, it's ok. I was fine. Everyone here was really nice to me. Don't worry."
"I know, but..." he took a breath to calm down. "... I just... I just feel bad that I asked you out after class and then I wasn't here... I was afraid it would make me look like a jerk. That's all. I'm sorry."
"It's ok," Quinn smiled.
"Oh! These are for you." Ricky suddenly realized he was holding something behind his back. He produced a bouquet of a variety of different flowers with a medium sized sunflower in the middle. This was not the run of the mill bouquet of flowers that a person picked up at a grocery store or a gas station. This was a little work of art. "I went to a flower shop down the street from where I work and I asked the florist to make something that featured a sunflower. You know, like the ones on the dress you wore last night." He smiled as he presented the bouquet to Quinn.
For his part, Quinn was momentarily speechless. He'd never been given something like this before. Not only was it lovely, it was thoughtful and showed a lot of care - and a lot of feeling. It was also a very romantic gesture. Something that a man did for a woman. For a woman for whom he felt romantic feelings. That was confusing, but then again, it was the very first romantic gesture that Quinn had ever received. He was already feeling tingles down his spine at the mere sight of Ricky and his handsome smile. Now, he felt a hurricane of butterflies spreading from his very core and those butterflies were bringing all of those feelings to his face, causing him to blush, smile uncontrollably and his eyes to water up with joy and confusion. "Oh... my God, Ricky..." he looked from the thoughtful bouquet to the handsome smile and back again. "... I've never been given... Ricky... they're beautiful. Thank you. Thank you, so much."
Then, without even a thought, Quinn threw his arms around Ricky's neck and hugged him.
When the hug ended, Ricky was beaming with happiness, both because Quinn wasn't upset and that the bouquet had been received so well. "I'm glad you like them."
"I love them." Quinn dabbed at his eyes then noticed that everyone was watching the scene that had been playing out in the studio. He smiled and held up the flowers to show everyone. "Look!" The joy on his face was spreading to everyone else. "I got flowers. Ricky brought me flowers."
When the class ended, Ricky and Quinn walked out together to get into Ricky's rather ancient, but very well maintained, Chrysler Sebring convertible. "It was my grandfather's car," Ricky explained. "He took really good car of it and told me he'd give it to me if I learned how to take care it. So, I have to change my own oil and filters. I do most of the maintenance myself - you know, break changes, tire rotations, stuff like that. It's got like two hundred and sixty thousand miles on it, but it runs really well." Part of that explanation was to explain why he drove an old car, part was to reassure his would be passenger that the car would be safe to get in to, and part was just a bit of a brag about being able to maintain the car himself.
"I think it's a beautiful car," Quinn said, honestly. "Your grandfather had good taste. When did he pass away?"
Ricky laughed. "Oh, he's still very much alive. He'd only give me the car if I was willing to learn how to work on it. I think that he had a couple of reasons for doing that. I mean, yeah, it's good to know how to work on a car, but by insisting that I spend my weekends in his garage learning from him, he knew where I was for most of my teenage years. Also, by giving me this car, he had an excuse to go buy a new one. I don't think he'll be offering me his BMW any time soon."
Quinn smiled and sniffed his fragrant bouquet once more.
"Drive safely, you two!" Sylvia called across the parking lot. "And be careful!"
She laughed after saying that, but neither of the young people caught her joke, if one was implied, and so just waved back.
Ricky walked Quinn over to the passenger side and opened it for him. When Quinn got in and pulled the skirts of his dress in, Ricky closed the door, then walked around and got in the driver's side. He fastened his seat belt and started the engine, then looked at the beautiful girl beside him. "I don't think I mentioned how pretty that dress is."
Quinn looked down at the skirts, then back. "Oh. Thank you. My friend Barbara helped me pick it out."
"Well, at least one of you has great taste," he smiled. "I was thinking we could stop at the Newport Creamery down on Bellevue, but they close at nine, so there's this place in Jamestown that I know of that's kind of a sandwich place, but they have coffee and baked goods and they're opened later. Is that ok?"
"Great," Quinn felt as if he was up for anything. This was really the first taste of freedom he'd had in his whole life. At fourteen, he was able to ride around on his bicycle and get himself a snack at a convenience store or something like that, but he had never had a night like this. A night to go out with a friend and just hang out and talk.
"What kind of music do you like?" Ricky asked as he pulled out of the parking lot.
"I don't know," Quinn admitted. "I just like music."
"Fair enough." Ricky connected his phone to a USB cable that was connected to a radio that was at least fifteen years younger than the car. "I listen to a lot of show tunes. Is that ok?"
"Great." In fact, Quinn knew very few show tunes. They had the DVDs of 'The Sound Of Music,' 'Little Shop of Horrors,' and 'Mama Mia' at home, so he knew those, but not much else.
Music came out of the radio. Ricky turned to look at Quinn. "I love this song. It's from 'Les Miserables.' Do you know it?"
Quinn shrugged. "No. Sorry."
All of a sudden, Ricky began singing along with the song. Quinn had never seen anything like this before. Some one confident enough to just sing in front of someone he barely knew!
"There
Out in the darkness
A fugitive running
Falling from God
Falling from grace
God be my witness
I never shall yield
Till we come face to face
Till we come face to face..."
Quinn smiled as he looked at his new friend. Ricky really did have a nice voice. And he was confident enough to just relax and sing. That was amazing. And he was so handsome. That night he wore the nice fitting, well pressed jeans, again, as well as a nice, white Oxford shirt and a different sports jacket, this one was burgundy.
Ricky sensed Quinn looking at him. He smiled. "What's the matter? Is my singing that bad?" He laughed.
"No, I like it. I was just looking at how you're dressed. You look very handsome."
"Really!? Well, thanks! My roommate at college tells me I dress like an old man. I like having a sports coat on in the evening. I think it dresses up whatever else I have on. Looking at you, though, I feel bad that I didn't wear a tie. You really look beautiful, Quinn, but you already know that."
"That's a weird thing to say." Quinn didn't know if he was being complimented or insulted.
Ricky laughed. "Why is that weird? Look at you. You're a beautiful woman. How could you not be aware of that?"
Quinn turned and looked out the windshield, but Ricky saw a smile spread across her face.
"You don't think you're beautiful?"
Quinn blushed a little and shrugged.
Ricky took Quinn's hand in his. "Well, you are, Quinn. Never forget that. You are beautiful."
Quinn looked forward and bit his lower lip to keep from smiling even more broadly. "Ricky?"
"Yeah?"
Quinn thought for a moment before speaking. "I know this might sound weird... well... frankly, my whole life is pretty weird, but other than doctor's appointments and a few dinners with my sister and a couple of family friends... this is the first time I've been with somebody my own age since I was in eighth grade. So... if I come off as weird, it's because I don't know how to not be... weird, I mean. Ok? So... I guess what I'm saying is... Can I ask you to be kind of patient with me?"
Ricky raised Quinn's hand and kissed the back of it. "Thank you for sharing that with me, Quinn. I'll be as patient as you need."
That was a relief to Quinn. He just needed to make sure that Ricky understood that. He liked that Ricky had kissed his hand, though. That felt nice. A little European in a way. Gay men just seemed so much more relaxed than straight men. Quinn could envision a very long friendship with Ricky. That was exciting.
The sandwich place that Ricky chose could not have been more perfect. Lots of wood, the great smell of coffee and pastries and a classical guitar player playing quietly in the corner... it was just Bohemian enough to seem very adult and sophisticated to the inexperienced boy.
"I'm hoping to be a psychiatrist eventually," Ricky explained. "They have a really good program at URI, so I went there. I would have liked to have gone away to college, but there was a great program just over in Kingston, so it didn't make sense to spend all that money to move far away. How about you? What do you want to do when you finish college?"
Quinn shrugged. "I don't know for sure."
"No ambitions?"
"Of course I have ambitions!" Quinn replied, playfully insulted. "For a long time, walking was my primary ambition."
That made Ricky chuckle. "Ok, but you've achieved that with aplomb. Anything beyond that?"
"My dad was a teacher and my sister is a teacher, too. That always seemed like a good job. So, I might do that, but I really don't know."
"Then why spend all that money to go to Salve?"
"Actually, I'm a scholarship kid," Quinn explained. "The accident and all that... I got a lot of pity money."
"Oh, come on, don't be like that," Ricky cajoled. "Don't resent people for wanting to help. It's not pity, it's social consciousness and goodwill. That's all."
"I guess. And I don't resent them, per se. It's just a little embarrassing. 'Poor Quinn,' you know?"
"I get it," Ricky smiled. "I'll leave that subject alone. So, what do your parents think about you becoming a teacher."
Quinn just shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know."
That surprised Ricky. "Wow, really? You guys aren't close? You don't share with each other?"
Quinn looked around, but could see no way out of explaining things. "You know how I said before that my life is pretty weird?"
"Yeah."
"Well, this is kind of part of that." He took a deep breath. "See... My brother, Anthony, was turning sixteen and my parents wanted to do something special for him. So, they decided to take us to Six Flags New England up in western Massachusetts."
"I love that park!" Ricky contributed.
"Yeah. It's a great park. Well, anyway, we got there early and had a great time. We stayed until they closed at nine that night. Tony had a great day and we left the park really happy."
"Nice," Ricky smiled.
"I was really tired and I fell asleep pretty quickly. Then..." he shrugged again. "... then I woke up in the hospital. They told me that I'd been unconscious for four days, that my back was broken, that I might never walk again and that my mom, my dad and my brother had all been killed in the accident."
"Oh, Geez, Quinn... I'm so sorry. So just you and your sister survived?"
"No. Annie was up in Providence at Brown working on her PhD, which she never got because she had to quit to take care of me. See... my life is weird."
Ricky shook his head. "Quinn, your life is a miracle. You should never feel like people are pitying you, because they're not. They're in awe of you." He squeezed Quinn's hand. "Just the fact that you are sitting here tonight is a miracle."
Ricky looked at Quinn and knew that this was an uncomfortable subject.
"Tell you what. I am very grateful that you felt comfortable enough to share all of that pain with me, but I will never ask you about it again - PROVIDED - you promise to remember that I am always here for you if you ever need to talk about that or anything else. Ok?"
Quinn nodded and thought for a moment. "I'll agree with that provided you promise to never look at me like I'm a victim. Everyone else I know does that already. Please, never do that to me."
Ricky's smile was the most love-filled expression that Quinn had ever seen. "I promise."
He kissed Quinn's hand for the second time that evening. "Let's talk about something else. Quinn is beautiful name. Where does that come from?"
Quinn didn't quite know how to answer that. "Ummm... Ireland, I think."
Ricky laughed at that answer. "Fair enough, but how did it end up being YOUR first name?"
"Oh!" Quinn smiled and it was Ricky's turn to feel butterflies. This girl was just so pretty! As Quinn continued, Ricky just marveled at every little thing about her - The way her eyes sparkled in the low light. The way her cheeks filled out when she smiled. The way that the freckles made her look so much younger than she really was. This was an amazing girl.
"My grandmother's maiden name was Mary Elizabeth Quinn. I didn't know her because she died a few weeks before I was born. Anyway, my mother didn't know if she was going to have a girl or a boy, but figured that Quinn would work either way. So - they named me Quinn."
"I bet your mom was thrilled when you were born and were such a beautiful girl."
Quinn guffawed at that. "I don't know about that. How about you? How did you end up being called Ricky?"
He looked around and said, in a confidential voice, "Can I tell you a secret?"
"Yeah, of course."
"Ricky is not my real name."
"Whaaaaa?" Quinn made a show of being overly enthusiastic.
Ricky shook his head. "Nope. My real name is Dennis."
"Then where did Ricky come from?"
"Well," he looked around again in a pretense of espionage, "apparently, I was a very precocious five year old - shocking, I know - and one day I just announced that my name was no longer Dennis. From then on, I wanted to be called Ricky and that was that."
'Wow!" Quinn laughed at the story. "So everyone just went along with it?"
"Well, they way my mother tells the story, I had a zero tolerance for non-capitulation. I guess I was quite the diva and if anyone dared to call me Dennis or Denny, I either ignored them until they came to their senses, or I was quite quick to put them in their place. Regardless, I've been Ricky ever since, which is kind of weird, since, now that I think about it, I think I prefer Denny to Ricky." He looked off in the distance in pantomimed thought. "Nah. I'll stick with Ricky."
"You could pick something else, if you wanted," Quinn teased. "What was your grandmother's maiden name?"
Ricky scowled. "Llewelyn." He shook his head. "I don't think that'll work. Ricky it is."
They both laughed and the evening wore on with more laughter and more coffee and more friendship developing between them.
From 'The Autobiography of Miss Louisa Harper'
~ "Lanny and I took a walk on the lawn after tea. Mother had given me very specific instructions to repair the damage I'd done at tea, but my ire was still high and I was not particularly interested in being seen and not heard.
As we proceeded across the vast, open, lawn area towards the cliffs near the end of the estate, I stomped a good eight to ten steps in front of Lanny and spoke not a word.
"Louisa, please slow down," he called from behind me, but I persisted in stomping on. Eventually, Langdon ran ahead of me and asked me to stop. Since he stood directly in my path, I acquiesced.
When he asked me why I was behaving as I was, I responded with venom. "How dare you!" I spat. "How dare you refer to me as an animal! A dumb, filthy animal that you plan to break!" The more I spoke, the more my anger rose to higher levels. "You and Father sit in judgement of everyone, EVERYONE, while the rest of us endure your haughty superiority. Well, let me tell you something, Mister Langdon BeechThorndyke The Third, you and the other men of your ilk may intimidate the rest of the world, but you will never intimidate me."
The look on Lanny's face spoke of his surprise at my behavior. "Louisa," he spoke with a calm rationality that was more irritating than I can explain, "when I compared you to as a horse, I meant it in only the most complimentary way. I meant that, like a horse, you are a magnificent thing and I would be honored to be the man who helps you to become a pillar of society. It was not meant to be insulting."
"Not insulting?" I had left the good girl my mother had raised somewhere back on the veranda and I was now a force of nature. "Langdon, just now, as you were explaining how much respect you are showing me, you referred to me as 'a magnificent thing.' A THING, LANGDON. I am not 'a thing.' I am an intellect, a soul, an anima, a person, Langdon. I. Am. A. Person. That is what I am and I will never be made to feel as if I am anything less than a person. I am not your... thing... your bauble... your pet or your decoration and I never will be."
Langdon folded his arms and looked at me in a new and odd way, but did not say anything. Not able to suffer the silence of the moment, I spoke a bit less loudly. "Perhaps it would be best if we returned to the veranda and explained that I am not a suitable prospect for a fiancé. It would be best if we did not allow our parents' expectations to grow beyond their current level."
"Why should we do that?" Lanny asked in that irritatingly calm voice.
"Because I just made it clear that I could never be the perfect, unthinking wife you desire." My venom was lessening a bit.
Langdon nodded and looked out over the ocean before speaking. "I love the ocean, Louisa. I love how the ocean can look like it does today; calm and beautiful, yet the reason I love it so much isn't just because of that beauty. I love it because I know that beneath that beauty there are depths that will fascinate me for my entire life. Because, if I were to live a thousand years, I would never know the true depth and power of what that beauty contains."
He turned and looked at me with a very serious look.
"Louisa... this morning, I told my mother that I had reservations about speaking to your father about our future together. After all, you are much younger than I, you are known to be a fashion maven, something about which I have no interest, and I was under the impression that your only interest in me was for financial security.'
'Well, my mother made it clear to me that I had no real financial security to offer. I was not aware of it, but my family is struggling financially. So, as she explained, it was incumbent on me to look to you for that stability. I should make it clear, however that I shall never do that. My parents have given me a good start in life and I will capitalize on that, succeeding or failing on my own."
He looked to me to see if I was shocked, but I was not. I was intrigued. Many of our social class were struggling to maintain their family's wealth, but no one I knew would ever admit that to someone outside of our own family.
"Perhaps the resentment I felt towards you because of my own family's diminished fortune led me to be as boorish as I was earlier, but that is no excuse. I apologize for that, Louisa."
I was stunned by his words and I was shocked when he took my hand and looked into my eyes. "Dear, Louisa. I have just now seen a glimpse beneath the surface of your beauty and I know that, if I were to live for a thousand years, I will never know the true depth and power that your beauty contains, but if you will have me, I would be honored to be your partner, your lover, your husband for as many years as God grants me."
The last mile or so of the ride to the house that Quinn shared with Ann was fairly quiet. Quinn had had a very nice, somewhat exciting, somewhat confusing evening and the last thing he wanted was to have it end.
"It's just up here on the right," Quinn instructed as they approached the house, sniffing the sweet perfume of his bouquet once again. Suddenly, he became aware of the peeling paint and poorly trimmed bushes that distinguished their home from the others in the neighborhood and declared to everyone who saw it that something had happened to this family - something that made their priorities different from everyone else's.
"Hey, nice place," Ricky said as he pulled the car to a stop. "Just you and your sister?"
"Yeah," Quinn answered, a little taken aback by the compliment on the property. "Annie tries her best to keep up with the place, but it's hard for her. I'm hoping that I might be able to help out a bit when my back feels better."
Ricky got out of the car and hurried over to help Quinn. "How far away is the ocean? I can smell it, but you can probably smell it everywhere on the island, right?"
"Probably," Quinn shrugged. "There's a beach about two blocks over that way. We're on the east side of the island, so the beaches are ok. The west side is the rich side, so those beaches are nicer."
"We should go sometime," Ricky said enthusiastically. "I love the beach. My extended family have a place near the ocean in Westerly on Misquamicut beach. It's nice and the waves are fun, but the water is cooooold!"
Quinn didn't respond to Ricky's offer, knowing that a bathing suit might be a challenging thing to deal with. Instead, he climbed the three steps to his porch and turned to Ricky. "Well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow night."
"Yeah, ok," Ricky was feeling awkward for the first time since arriving late to class. "I... ummm... I hope you had a good time."
"I had a great time."
"Good, because I did too." Ricky struggled to come up with any conversation ideas that might prolong the evening for even a few more minutes, but drew a blank. So he just looked at the beautiful face of that girl in that amazing yellow dress and he waited for her to say something.
The problem was, though, that Quinn was staring at the handsome face of that boy with the black rimmed glasses and not thinking about much else.
Neither was aware of it, but as the minutes passes, their faces grew closer and as a result, so did their lips. Then, with neither of them being fully conscious of it happening, their lips touched, softly, and only for a few moments. They separated for a moment, then it happened again. This time more passionately and for longer.
Then, as if waking from a dream, Quinn's eyes shot open and he pushed a very confused Ricky away. "What are you doing!?" Quinn shouted louder than he meant to.
"I... I was kissing you. Why? I thought that you wanted to kiss me, too." Ricky was very confused.
"But you're gay!"
"I'm gay?" Ricky looked even more thrown than before. "I'm not gay! Who told you that I'm gay?"
"Sylvia. Last night when I met you, she said you were gay."
Ricky laughed. "Sylvia said I was gay!?"
"Yeah... and then... well... you dress well, and your hair is nice and you like show tunes, so..."
Ricky rolled his eyes. "Ok, I get it. I'm not exactly a Neanderthal, but I'm not a sissy, either. Yeah, I dress well and take care of myself, but that doesn't make me gay. And sure, I like show tunes, but lots of people like show tunes." He took a breath. "Look... maybe I misread this whole situation. If you're not interested in a dating situation, then I apologize for coming on too strong. We can, you know, just be friends if that's what you want. Ok?"
"I'm... I'm a little confused right now, Ricky. I just... I just didn't think that tonight would end this way - with kissing, I mean." He straightened his dress just to do something other than look into Ricky's eyes.
"Well, that's disappointing, because all day long, I've been hoping it would end with kissing, but... hey, I understand if you don't feel the same way that I do. Why don't we... let's just call it a night and maybe we can talk after class tomorrow, ok? I'm really sorry about all this, but... I guess I'll just see you in class."
"I'm sorry, too," Quinn didn't know how to feel about the whole situation. He wanted to run into the house and hide, while at the same time he wanted to grab Ricky and kiss him again. His brain was at war with his heart and he didn't have any idea what to do about it. One thing he did know was that the feeling in his chest as Ricky walked back to his car and then drove away, was raw, painful despair. It took every fiber of his being to not run after him and ask him to stay.
When the rear lights of the Sebring disappeared up the road, Quinn opened the door to find Ann waiting just a few steps inside. She looked concerned as she asked, "Are you ok?"
He shook his head and fell into her arms. "You heard?"
"I didn't mean to listen, but I heard you yell and came running." She hugged him tightly. "I might be wrong, but I think you're feeling something for this guy, aren't you?"
Quinn nodded.
"It's hard to open yourself up to something new, Quinn."
"Annie... I don't know what I am right now?"
She laid her head on his. "You're a person who is falling in love with another person, Quinn. That's all."
"But he's a guy, Annie. I didn't think I was gay, but I really, really, really like him, and when I kissed him... I don't know what to do. It'll never work out."
"Quinn, being gay or straight or anything else isn't just a black or white thing. You are a person and you're having feelings for another person. That's a beautiful thing, honey. Don't fight it. Accept it."
He stood straighter, pulling back from Ann's hug. "It doesn't matter. It will never work out. I'm a boy and he's a boy and he's straight, so that doesn't work. Also, I'm disguised as a girl and he has feelings for me, but I'm NOT a girl, so those feelings aren't real. So... remember what dad used to say when he couldn't fix things? He'd say FUBAR and throw it in the trash."
Ann nodded. "I remember. He said it stood for. 'F-ed Up Beyond All Repair.'"
"Yep. And that's me and Ricky. FUBAR."
"No, honey, it's not," Ann tried to encourage him. "At least it doesn't have to be. Maybe, if you explain everything to him..."
"Then what? Then he falls madly in love with me even though I'm guy? Not likely. If I'm lucky, he'd just storm out. If I'm unlucky, he'd beat me up first." He flopped on the couch and shook his head. "Annie... when I said that I didn't know what I was, I didn't mean gay or straight. I meant... I don't know if I'm a boy or a girl. Look at me. My hair is long and wavy, I smell like flowers and fruits, I'm wearing a dress and I even have little boobs of my own. Except for a few square inches of skin, I'm a girl and, it's really hard to say this, but I really like being a girl."
Ann sat beside him. "Oh, wow... this is kind of a big conversation, Quinn. Maybe you should calm down a bit before we have it. You know... give yourself a little time to think."
He nodded. "Maybe. But it's not my thinking that's got me confused. It's my feelings. Annie... when I... Geez, this is an awkward thing to say to your sister, but when I fantasize about girls... and when I... you know... when I do I get hard... down there. Do you understand?"
Ann rolled her eyes. "Yes, Quinn, I understand. I know how a boy's body works."
"Yeah, but here's the thing... when I'm with Ricky, or when I even think about Ricky... it's a whole different thing. I don't want to play with myself or... climax or anything like that. I just... I want to be with him. To have him talk to me. To hold me. To love me. Annie - I don't even get hard down there. I just want to be a girl for him. Even before I knew he wanted me to be a girl, I wanted to be a girl for him."
"Quinn," Ann didn't really know what to say, but her little brother... or sister... or... what did it matter?... Quinn was hurting and hurting badly. "Love can really suck, honey. It can hurt like crazy. I'm so sorry that this is happening, and I know that you don't want to hear it, but the only way to find out if he has real feelings for you is to talk to him."
Quinn shook his head and was about to speak again when there was a knock at the door. Both siblings turned to look at the entrance in surprise.
Ann looked at the clock on the cable box. "It's almost eleven. Who could that be?"
She got up and went to the door, opening it just a crack at first.
From the couch, Quinn could hear a familiar voice. "Oh, hi. I'm sorry. I know it's late, but... do you think that I might be able to come in and talk to Quinn for a few minutes?"
Ann glanced back at her brother who shook his head.
"Ummm, I'm sorry, Ricky, but it's awfully late and we both have work in the morning. Maybe it would be best if this waited until tomorrow."
"Please," the voice outside of the door asked politely. "I really need to talk to her. I don't want her to feel... to feel like I do right now."
To Be Continued...
On Becoming Miss Louisa Harper of New York and Newport - 4
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of New York and Newport: 4
modeling Gilded Age clothing, etc, for visitors.
Author's Note: Thank you for all of the comments, pro and con. They really help me to be better. Also, I apologize for the length of time between installments. This is a very busy time of year at my real life job and that really disrupted my writing schedule.~Clara
This version of On Becoming Miss Louisa Harper of New York and Newport: 4 has been updated with many corrections towards spelling and grammar.~Sephrena.
Image Credit: Image created through the use of ai at https://perchance.org/beautiful-people .~Sephrena.
Chapter 4
From 'The Autobiography of Miss Louisa Harper'
~ "The July Fourth holiday was always a huge event at Golden Bluffs, as it was at all Newport estates. Most notables of Boston, New York and Washington would vie for invitations to spend the holiday at Golden Bluffs, The Breakers or The Elms, and Independence Day in 1890 was grandest that anyone could ever recall. Despite the social stature of most of our guests, the holiday was dominated by a handsome bureaucrat from The United States Civil Service Commission named Theodore Roosevelt who's ebullient personality and gregarious nature dominated every moment of weekend. Although the Roosevelts were an old and powerful New York family, Newport society was not necessarily welcoming to their outspoken views on social and political reform. Nevertheless, you could hear Teddy's laughter and reedy voice echoing through every hallway, while his lovely wife, Edith, befriended every woman at Golden Bluffs, including every cook, maid and dishwasher.
Mother was a bit annoyed that Teddy so dominated her affair, and Father avoided speaking to him as much as possible. In private, Father would rail about 'the man's insistent denial of political realities' and his 'blind support of radicals like Henry Cabot Lodge,' who was also in attendance that weekend.
On the week since our first date, Lanny had become a constant presence in my life. As many men of our strata did, Lanny avoided being in New York City during the oppressive heat of the summer. It was a wretched and smelly place at all times, but in the summer, the smell of rotten food, horse manure, dead animals and human urine, in areas outside of the fashionable neighborhoods, was more than anyone could stand. We were lucky enough to have the option of retreating to Newport, a place that was easily accessible by boat, so the men could still conduct business while enjoying the fresh air.
Lanny, as did Father, would work most mornings, emerging from his room at lunch time, then spend the beautiful summer afternoons escorting me around the estate or into the quaint village of Newport to do some shopping. I'd forgiven his remarks made on the veranda that day a few weeks earlier and now he seemed to offer only support and affection, even holding my hand when out in public, a sign of affection rarely made in our sphere.
Aware of my sister, Miranda's tragic romantic history, cautiously, I had begun to hope that Lanny and I might have a long and happy life together."
Quinn sat up straighter on the couch and nodded to Ann, indicating that he would speak to Ricky after all. When the young man entered, his typical air of good humor was not present. Instead, his brow was furrowed with concern and his shoulders slumped just a bit. He did, however, remember to thank Ann for allowing him in.
As he passed her, Ann made a sign to Quinn that she would be in the kitchen if she was needed.
Ricky forced a smile as he sat on the couch, but looked away to think. When he looked back in Quinn's direction, the forced smile was back. "Hi."
"Hi." Quinn didn't smile. His stomach was in knots, but the mere presence of Ricky was filling those knots with butterflies, too.
"Look... Quinn... I don't know how our signals got so badly crossed tonight, but... I really, really like you. Do you like me at all?"
"Of course I do, Ricky," Quinn admitted, "but... I'm just... confused. I thought that tonight was just a casual thing. I didn't realize that it was going to get so romantic. I guess it just spooked me a bit - ESPECIALLY since, until the moment you kissed me, I thought you were gay and just wanted to be friends. I'm sorry, I'm just not... ready... for this kind of thing, I guess."
Ricky nodded. "I get it."
He looked so sad that Quinn had to say something. "Like I told you earlier, my life is weird..."
"Yeah, yeah, I understand. The accident and recovery and all that. I guess that damage like that is hard to get past."
"I'm not damaged, Ricky." Quinn sounded sullen. "I was hurt and I was broken, but I'm not any more. I'm not damaged anymore."
'I know. I didn't mean it to sound that way. Look... I don't want you to get the wrong idea about me, Quinn. I really am a nice guy. A nice, straight guy who would love to date you, but... if that's not in the cards, then I guess I'm a nice, straight guy who wants to be your friend. Is that a possibility? Could we, maybe be friends, at least?"
Quinn nodded. "I'd like to be your friend, Ricky, I really would, but if you're harboring any hope that this will turn romantic, then I have to tell you that it probably won't."
He nodded. "Can you at least tell me why?"
Quinn thought about that, but didn't answer.
"I mean, are you gay?" Ricky asked. Quinn looked at him with confusion. Ricky went on, "I mean... are you a lesbian? I'm sorry. I'm really confused right now and I'm not sure which term people prefer. You know what I mean, though."
Quinn looked around the room - anywhere but at Ricky. "I'm... not a lesbian. I'm..." he just couldn't say the truth. "... complicated, Ricky. Like I told you earlier, I'm weird. Everything about my life is weird. I'm not who or what you think I am - heck, I'm not even what I always thought I was. I'm a... Argh... My friend Barbara says that I stopped maturing emotionally at fourteen because I was in seclusion for so long. Maybe she's right. Maybe you're right. Maybe I just am... damaged. I don't know, but I'm just not... normal."
Ricky huffed a little. Self pity was a tough defense to break through, but if anyone deserved to play that card now and again, it was Quinn.
"Quinn... like I said before, after all you've been through, your very existence miraculous and part of me feels that I was actually... meant... to meet you, because the moment I saw you, I felt like had known you my whole life." He laid his hand on Quinn's. "Let's be friends, ok? Let's spend time together and help each other like friends do. I'll be there for you and you'll be there for me, alright? No expectations. No demands. Just friends. You can teach me about Louisa Harper and everything that goes on at Golden Bluffs and I'll ruin show tunes by singing along with them in the car. Sound good?"
Quinn turned his hand over so he could embrace Ricky's. He wanted so badly to just tell him the truth about his feelings and his chromosomes, but all of that was just a lot more than he could say. A lie this big couldn't last forever, but he just couldn't tell him the truth right now. "Sounds good."
"Ok." Ricky stood and said, "I have this friend named Pat and, well, when I say goodbye to Pat, we always kiss each other's cheeks. Would that be ok?"
Quinn stood. "That would be lovely.
Ricky leaned forward and kissed Quinn's soft cheek and Quinn kissed Ricky's.
"That was nice," Ricky smiled.
"It was. I bet that Pat enjoys your goodbye kisses, too."
"Maybe, but it was nicer to kiss your cheek."
Quinn thought that was an odd thing to say. "Why's that?"
"Because, when I kiss Pat goodbye, his beard always tickles me."
That made Quinn smile. "You're a funny guy."
"And handsome. I'm quite the catch. Let me pick you up after work tomorrow and we'll have something to eat before class, ok?"
"Dutch treat?" Quinn asked to insure it wasn't a date.
"Dutch!? Oh, my God, you're a racist!" Ricky pretended to be shocked.
Quinn laughed and playfully slapped his arm. "I'm serious. We pay for our own food, ok?"
"If you insist. I'm working an early shift tomorrow so I'll be done around two. What time are you done?"
Quinn shrugged. "It seems to vary. Sometime between three thirty and five, I guess. The museum isn't officially open for the season, yet. That happens on Saturday."
Ricky nodded. "Ok. Tell you what - I'll head over toward Newport around three. I have some errands to run and I can do them all in town here. When you're done, send me a text and I'll come up and pick you up."
"Ok. I'll see you then."
They both walked to the door and said goodnight before Ricky gave Quinn one last smile and walked to his car and drove away. Quinn stayed at the door watching until the red tail lights had long disappeared.
"So?" Ann asked when Quinn had closed the door. She was leaning on the wall in the hallway. It was obvious that she'd been there for a little while watching Quinn as Quinn watched Ricky's car drive away.
Quinn shrugged and gave a small smile. "I guess we're still friends, but it's still pretty complicated."
"Life is always complicated, Quinn, but you could have made it less so if you'd just told him the truth."
He laughed a little and shook his head. "So, what should I say? 'Oh, by the way, Ricky, I have a penis?' That would go over well, wouldn't it?"
Ann shook her head. She had no interest in escalating things, especially not this late at night, but she had to speak her mind. ''No, Quinn, but... I wasn't really eavesdropping, but I heard some of what you were saying and, to be honest, there were a couple of times that it seemed like it would have made sense to have just said, 'Look, I think I need to explain to you that I am not really a girl. I took a job at Golden Bluffs and I had to dress this way. I still want to be friends, but it's important that you understand who I really am.'"
"Yeah. There were a couple of times that I almost said something like that, too, but I just can't say it. Not right now."
"I understand, but you know that the longer this goes on, the harder it will be to tell him, right?"
"I know, but..." he sniffled a little and Ann suspected that he was done talking about it. "...I Kinda need to get to bed."
"Alright, honey," Ann patted his cheek. "It's been a long day for you, I know. Go on up and get ready. You can wear one of the nighties I bought you or one of mom's. I'll be up after I lock up. I think we'll just braid your hair tonight. I'll explain it to Barbie. She's got a set of hot rollers that will take care of you when you get to Golden Bluffs tomorrow."
"This isn't going to hold as well as usual," Barbara said, fussing to help Quinn with his hair. "The hot rollers do an ok job, but the overnight set is better - especially with your stick-straight hair." She shook her head. She grabbed a massive can of hairspray and sprayed and sprayed and sprayed his hair. "Alright, I guess that will have to do." She scowled and shook her head. "You know, you're going to need a perm at some point, Quinny. Your hair is naturally really straight and doesn't hold a curl very well. You need some wave and body for this kind of hairdo. Louisa aside, it would look really nice on you, too."
Quinn was distracted and didn't respond. He'd been mopey since Barbara had picked him up that morning, barely talking in the car and requiring constant prodding to get ready. Maybe she'd been pushing him too hard and he was too tired, but she suspected that something had happened on his date the previous night.
"I can make an appointment at my salon, if you'd like to give it a try. It'd certainly make sleeping easier."
Still no engagement from Quinn.
Frustrated, she tossed her brush onto the countertop and dropped herself into a chair with its back to the mirror, facing Quinn.
"What's the matter?" Quinn asked, as if aware of Barbara for the first time.
"What's the matter? With me, you mean? What's the matter with me? Quinn, I've been talking to you all morning and barely getting a grunt in return. So, forget about me - What's the matter with you?"
"Oh." He frowned and looked down at the lace ladened combination he wore. "I don't know, Barbara... I think I'm just... confused... and maybe a little frustrated."
"About what. Quinny? The job? You're doing great, here. You look great and Monica says that when she's asks you questions about Louisa, she hasn't been able to stump you once. So...?"
Quinn remained quiet.
"Ahh... the date, right? What happened?" Barbara's voice was gentle.
"I don't know," he said as he shook his head. "I had a great time and it seemed like he did too."
"But...?
"But..." Quinn sighed. "Well... turns out... he's not gay, and... like you said all along... he's kind of into me."
Barbara nodded. "Is that a bad thing?"
Quinn was shocked by the question. "Barbara... he thinks I'm a girl."
'Did you explain that you're not?"
"What's with you and Annie!? You both seem to think this is the easiest thing in the world to deal with. Like it would be the most logical thing in the world to just tell someone something like that in the middle of a conversation. Like - 'What's your favorite movie?' 'Spaceballs, how about you?' 'Oh, mine's The Avengers.' 'Oh, by the way... you know how I look all pretty and all, well, I'm really a guy. So, who's your favorite singer?' Why can't you guys see how that conversation would end? I'd end up in the hospital, again."
Barbara laid her hand on Quinn's arm. "Oh, Quinny... Things are different today. People are more understanding."
He laughed at that. "Really? Then why haven't we announced to everyone here that I'm a guy? Because it is not normal. I don't mean that it's some kind of a perversion or anything. I just mean... it's not the norm... you know? And if someone wants to have a relationship with a girl, the last thing he wants that girl to have..." he sighed. "... is a penis."
'Quinn!" Barbara sounded very surprised. "There's no reason to assume that going out on a few dates will lead to sex! God! I've gone out with lots of guys and I've only had sex with... well... that's none of your business, but I certainly haven't had sex with all them."
Quinn looked her in the eye. "But you weren't deceiving them about who you are. Barbara... I just wanted a friend and then... all of a sudden... I wanted to be his girlfriend. And I can't. And I'm sorry, but..."
"That makes you sad, right?"
He nodded.
"I'm sorry, Quinny." She gave him a sad smile. "So... what happens now?"
He shrugged. "I don't know. We agreed to still be friends and he wants to talk about last night. We're getting a sandwich before class tonight."
"And he doesn't suspect anything?"
"Why should he? You turned me into a pretty girl, right? Why should he question that?" When he saw a shadow cross her face, he spoke again, "Oh, don't worry. I'm not blaming you. The thing is..." he looked in the mirror, "... that girl, there... Louisa... that's me. That's the real me. That's who I want to be. That's the person I'm happy being. I just kind of suck at being Quinn."
"Well... if it makes you feel any better... I kind of suck at being Barbara, too. Being Louisa seems a lot easier, sometimes."
Suddenly, Barbara stood and her whole demeanor changed. "Alright, then. Take your hair down and brush it out."
"Why? Do I have to put it up again after that?"
"Nope. I think you need a few hours out among real people to get used to your feminine persona."
"But Monica is coming in at..."
"I'll let her know, don't worry. She says you're ready, anyway." She pulled out her phone and dialed her mother's assistant. "Hi, Jess. This is Barbara. Listen, let my mom know that I need to leave for a few hours and I'm taking Quinn with me. Yeah. We have to pick up a few things for him. Ok. Great. Thanks, Jess. Bye." She looked at Quinn. "Let's go."
"Where?"
"Well," Barbara chuckled, "we really should be headed to a spa to get you a massage so you can relax, but we don't have time for that, and even if we did, your sister would kill me if I spent that kind of money on you. So - We are going to get ourselves a mani/pedi."
"A...?" Quinn suddenly realized what she meant. "We're getting our nails done?"
"We are." Barbara grabbed her purse and handed Quinn his. "Have you ever had one?"
"No," he admitted. "I was a guy until a few days ago."
"Oh, poo," she laughed. "Lots of men have their nails manicured."
"Yeah?"
"Of course. There used to be nail girls in every barber shop in America. You've seen them in old movies, right? Even in 'The Untouchables,' Capone is getting his nails done while his hair is being cut."
"Huh. I never noticed," Quinn remarked as he followed her into the parking lot. 'So... they're just going to trim and polish our nails, then?"
Barbara chuckled as she pulled her door open. "Now, Quinny... what fun would that be?"
From 'The Autobiography of Miss Louisa Harper'
~ "Until I was twelve, my childhood activities at Golden Bluffs were no different than the activities of my male cousins or the boys from the surrounding estates. We ran through the fields and along the beaches, practiced archery, explored the woods and caves and sailed or rowed small boats on the inlets and ponds surrounding us.
During that summer of 1887, though, things changed. My parents, who had previously been focused solely on Miranda's tragic love life and had taken very little interest in me or my activities, suddenly began to focus their attention on my behavior and how it would impact my future. The reason for their sudden interest was a cut, well, more accurately described as a slash, on my left hand caused by a sudden wind, a full sail and a coarse rope. When I presented the wound for bandaging, I was told by Father that, 'Your boyhood days are over,' and Mother declared that 'Proper young ladies have soft, perfect hands. Your's are as rough as an old, Irish charwoman's.'
The virtues of clean clothes, a clean face, clean hands and clean ears were constantly being preached as I sat on the veranda, watching my former friends continuing their activities in the greater world. As my dresses became more and more elaborate and constricting, they wore less and less as they tested their strength and endurance. As they played sports and ran with abandon, I was confined to the veranda where mother, or Miranda, or a visiting aunt would grow more and more exasperated with my lack of feminine grace and guile.
Eventually, though, I did learn that I could regain some of the freedoms I'd lost by excelling at being female. I did long for my younger days of boyishness, but for every inspection that found my face rosy and clean, that found no dirt behind my ears, that found my cuticles properly pushed and my nails highly polished and trimmed just beyond my fingertips, I was given more time to myself. Time to read and write and think my own thoughts.
And so, I became the embodiment of the feminine ideal of that age. I was more gracious, more graceful, more gloriously beautiful than any Belmont, Morgan or Vanderbilt girl had ever been. I became The Princess of Newport and thus I found some level of freedom in a world that held women hostage."
The nail salon was unlike anyplace that Quinn had ever seen - or smelled. There was a businesslike efficiency to the look of the place, but the design was entirely based on pastel pinks, purples and yellows. There was no doubt that this was a 'no boys allowed' clubhouse, which made it a bit thrilling, as well as daunting. Each baby step into womanhood had felt like this. Each one was a new kind of excitement, a new exploration of the woman within and a new way to express who he truly was.
Barbara seemed to know everyone. She chatted and laughed and smiled as she caught up on the lives of the women who worked there and those who were customers as well. She also introduced Quinn to everyone and everyone was just as gregarious was Barbara. One woman complimented Quinn's dress, nearly to the point of embarrassment. When he was a boy, he had been to the barber shop with his father many times, and he heard the men and boys there speak and laugh freely, but there was always a guarded sense to their behavior. As if they could only share so much and no more. These women shared everything! Intimate details about themselves, their husbands, their children, the health of everyone they knew... some were interested in sports and spoke a bit about that, but they were never restricted to that subject. When he was a boy, the barbershop talk was limited to sports, cars and crass remarks about women. Quinn had always been take aback by the change he saw in his father when they entered the barber shop. Here was a man who always valued education and intellect above all things, but when he was waiting his turn or sitting in the chair, he would only discuss fishing, which he did rarely, or sports, which he only ever watched in small clips on the news.
They began their treatment in the back of the salon, seated in massaging chairs with drawers that pulled out from behind their calves. The drawers were filled with warm water and bath salts designed to soften the nails and calluses.
Quinn leaned back in the chair and lowered his feet into the relaxing concoction, then pressed a button on the chair and the chair grew warm and devices began to massage his neck, back, bottom and thighs. Even through the corset he was wearing, he could feel the chair relaxing the hard working muscles. Had his day ended with just ten minutes of that luxury, he would have felt wonderful, but it did not.
After just about ten minutes, a woman arrived and sat in front of him. She introduced herself as 'Sunny,' and used a towel to lift his left foot from the drawer.
"You have soft feet," she commented. "Nice straight toes, too. You must not wear a lot of pointy toed shoes."
"To tell you the truth, Sunny," Barbara offered as another woman began working on Barbara's left foot as well, "Quinny never wore heels at all until this week, and I'm the one who forced her into it. She only wears high quality heels, though. "
"That's good," Sunny smiled up at Quinn. "Cheap shoes will ruin your toes. Stick with good ones. I am surprised, though. Girls your age usually start wearing heels pretty regularly. How old are you, honey? Fourteen? Fifteen? Sixteen?"
Quinn smiled, unsure of how to answer that without looking foolish, but Barbara answered for him. She was laughing as she explained, "Quinny is just a late bloomer. She's twenty one, actually, but she looks younger until she's done her makeup to go out. Then, she's a heartbreaker."
"Oh, I bet," Sunny laughed along with Barbara. "You're a very pretty, girl, Winnie."
"It's 'Quinny,'" he corrected. "My real name is Quinn."
"Oooh, very pretty."
From there, Quinn learned about the exquisite pain and relief of having his toes and nails dug and maneuvered and groomed with sharp little tools. Each little excavation into his skin was followed by a feeling of relief and a small, healing rub from Sunny. She dug and shaped and filed the toes one each foot for at least ten minutes each before asking, "What color would you like them?"
Not expecting the question, Quinn hemmed and hawed for a moment before saying, "I think they look great just like that."
"Clear, then?" Sunny asked, reaching to grab a bottle from a nearby cart.
Quinn nodded, but Barbara intervened. "No, no, no, no! She's just being a coward, Sunny. Bright red, please. Something that really draws attention to her perfect little toes."
Sunny nodded and smiled as she grabbed the appropriate bottle.
Quinn spoke to Barbara in a low voice. "No one can even see my toes when I'm dressed as Louisa."
"I know," Barbara smiled broadly, "but summer is coming and you'll want to wear pretty sandals and open toed shoes. Trust me, Quinny. You WANT your toes to be pretty. Men love it. They don't realize it, but they do."
Layer after layer of beautiful, bright red enamel was spread in gentle tickles across his toes, until, at last, his toenails were perfectly smooth and shone like Christmas lights at the end of his feet. They were charming little gems that wiggled and caught his attention. They were a foolish little bit of feminine finery that served no purpose whatsoever, but were just there as a bit of indulgence.
And yet...
When Quinn looked at them, his heart beat just a little faster. How pretty! How lovely! How absolutely delightful to have pretty feet!? Imagine - pretty feet. How wonderful it was to have these gorgeous bits of color to enjoy.
"You like them?" Sunny asked.
"I love them!" Quinn answered honestly.
"Good. Wait here while they dry. I'll set up my manicure station and be back for you in a few minutes."
"That lifted your spirits a bit, didn't it?" Barbara asked, smiling at how Quinn kept wiggling his toes and admiring how they looked.
"Lots." Quinn smiled. "Thank you, Barbara."
"Sadly, you can't have red fingernails. Louisa didn't color her nails."
"Why not? She wore other kinds of makeup." Quinn was a bit disappointed that his fingers and toes wouldn't match.
Barbara giggled. "For the same reason she didn't carry a cell phone, Quinn - nail polish didn't exist yet. Don't worry, though. You're getting French tips. They'll look very natural."
"What are those?"
She winked at him and smiled. "Relax. You'll like them."
And he did.
If anything, the manicure was even more relaxing and exciting than the pedicure. There was a strange sense of intimacy with Sunny as she worked his cuticles, added the acrylic nails, shaped them to be just slightly longer than his fingertips and then worked on them with various paints and enamels for an additional ten minutes each to create a very natural looking nail.
"There you go, my dear," Sunny smiled. "Perfect nails to go with anything from a sundress to a bridal gown. What do you think?"
Quinn looked at them and admired their perfect shape and brilliant sheen, and also how they made his fingers look even longer and more feminine. "They're beautiful, Sunny. Thank you!"
"You are welcome, my love. Now, when your nails are not limited by work restrictions, you come on back here and see me and I'll help you pick out something really pretty and fun for you. Ok?"
"Thank you," Quinn smiled. "I will."
He turned when he heard Barbara speaking into her phone. "No, that's great, Andrea. We'll be there in twenty minutes. Thanks!"
When Quinn gave her an inquisitive look, she smiled and raised her eyebrows. "Congratulations, Quinny. You're about to get your first perm."
Part of Quinn felt a need to act shocked that Barbara would presume to make that kind of a decision for him, but he didn't act on that. Instead, he considered how wonderful every baby step into girlhood had been so far, and he said, "Really!?"
"Yep. A mani-pedi and a perm all in the same day. Wait until Annie hears about this!"
"You think she'll be upset about the money? I'll pay you back out of my first paycheck."
Barbara laughed. "Quinny, you needed the manicure and the perm to play Louisa. Golden Bluffs will pay for all of that."
"Then why will Annie get upset."
"Because her baby sister is growing up too quickly, Quinny. I know she's not saying anything to you about it, but I can tell. Annie's enjoying having you embrace your inner Louisa."
If the nail salon had given off the 'no boys allowed' vibe, the salon felt like a bastion of femininity. A place where women were actually transformed from mere humans to goddesses. The women waiting for service were all attractive and well kept, but the women leaving were gorgeous.
And gorgeous sounded pretty nice to Quinn right about then.
The curler-type contraptions that were rolled into Quinn's hair were very different than the hard plastic curlers that Ann used. These were spongy and bendable. Instead of the straight rows that Ann created in his hair at night, the stylist, Andrea, seemed to place them in a bit of a haphazard arrangement around his head. When she was finished, though, Quinn could see a symmetry to the arrangement.
From an earlier time, he could remember his mother coming home from the salon with a new perm and the smell of her hair would send everybody in the house scurrying to their rooms to escape the fetid odor. The solution they used on Quinn, though, was surprisingly inoffensive.
"Pleeeeeaaaase don't tell me that this is your NATURAL color, baby," the very expressive hairdresser said as she fawned over Quinn's hair, rolling those odd instruments into his red mane.
"It is," Quinn smiled. His hair color and fullness had always been admired by women and ridiculed by boys. It had made him self conscious as a child, but since, during his rehabilitation, most of his care givers had been women, he had grown proud of the rich red color.
Andrea looked at Barbara and rolled her eyes dramatically. "What are you doing to me, Barbie? You can't bring someone with hair like this into my salon! If people find out that this color is available in nature, I'll have to close up shop and start selling Avon, door to door."
"Or," Barbara smiled, "you could tell people that YOU can give them hair like THAT."
"Oh, Barbie, I wish I could. I can only do so much, though. You know the old proverb: 'Poems are made by fools like me, but only God can make hair that color.'"
Barbara chuckled. "No. I didn't know that one."
"Hello?" Ricky called into the 'employees only' doorway. "Anyone here?"
Barbara came into the entrance area and waved. "You must be Ricky. Quinn's getting changed. Come on in."
He followed her into her workshop and looked about at the clothes and material on the racks and shelves. "I sent Quinn to the administration office across the estate. She'll be back in a few minutes." Once in the room proper, Barbara turned and folded her arms. "So... You're Ricky."
"Yes," he replied, confused, since he thought that they'd established that already.
"Ricky who is NOT gay."
Ricky looked around. Was he being Punked? "That's correct. I'm not gay."
Barbara scowled and looked him up and down.
"Is that a problem?" He asked, confused. "I mean... I never said that I was or wasn't gay, but when Quinn found out that I wasn't, she seemed almost mad about it."
"Just surprised, I suspect. She spent most of yesterday trying to convince me that you were gay and that last night's coffee get-together wasn't a real date. I think she was probably just surprised when you told her the truth."
Ricky considered that for a moment. "You know what? I'm not quite sure how appropriate it is for me to be having this conversation with Quinn's boss. I mean... this is all pretty personal, you know."
"Listen, Slick," Barbara looked towards the hallway to be sure that Quinn was not about to enter.
"Slick?" Ricky tried to interrupt. "I was never acting 'slick.'"
If Barbara had heard him, she just ignored him and continued. "Quinny and I are much more than friends."
"Oh?" Ricky asked, but then something occurred to him. "OH! You and Quinn are a couple! I'm sorry. I guess I just misunderstood the situation."
'No, no, no," Barbara laughed and waved him off. "No... Quinn and I are, most assuredly, NOT a couple, but I do love her like a sister. So, you'd better be nice to her."
"I thought that Quinn only had one sister; Ann."
"I said LIKE a sister, Ricky. We are LIKE sisters."
"I see." Now, Ricky folded his arms and looked a bit more confident. "Well, since you are so interested... I tried very hard... VERY HARD... to be nice to Quinn. I was a gentleman, I was sweet and funny and just as charming as I know how... but Quinn flipped when she realized I was straight."
"I bet," Barbara nodded.
"See... that's an odd response. Why do you think she was so shook up when I told her I was straight?"
Barbara puckered her lips as she thought. "Ahh. See, there's the real question, Ricky. The truth is... I know exactly why she behaved that way, but... I'm afraid that you'll need to figure that out by yourself. I will tell you this, though. Quinn is the toughest and most fragile person I have ever meet and that's the key to getting to know the real Quinn. Every time you discover something new about her, you're going to realize that she's exactly the opposite of who you think she is. She's tough and fragile. She's smart and naïve. She's confident and petrified."
Ricky waited for more, but Barbara had stopped speaking. "That's a bit cryptic, isn't it? She's hot and she's cold. She's tall and she's short. I sense there's something you want to tell me, so... why not just tell me?"
Barbara heard something in the hall, so she wrapped up her comments. "That would be far too easy, my friend. So... Be careful. Be gentle and don't give up. Trust me - It is going to take some effort, but Quinn is worth it."
"Yeah, but she's the one who rejected me..." Ricky started saying, Barbara cut him off with a 'Shh.'
"Hey, Quinny!" Barbara sounded bright and cheery, as opposed to her previously cryptic and maternal sound, when Quinn opened the door. "Your friend, Ricky, is here. We've been getting to know each other."
"Hi." Quinn smiled in spite of himself. Just seeing Ricky standing there made him feel better, but what he really found exciting was the way that Ricky was looking at him. "What?"
Ricky shook himself back to reality. "What? Oh... I'm sorry... I just... Your hair."
Quinn smiled as he touched his now very full locks as they fell in waves down his neck and back. "Oh, yeah. I got..." There was no point in explaining. Ricky wasn't interested in how Quinn's hair had gotten this way. He was only interested in how it made Quinn look. "Do you like it?"
What the heck kind of a question was that!? Just the night before, Quinn had made it clear that she had no interest in dating Ricky, so why ask a question like that!? What he wanted to say was that he wouldn't have believed that it was possible to find Quinn more beautiful than he already did, but the way that her hair flowed in waves and curls had risen her beauty from amazing to unbelievable. But saying that would drive Quinn away. Besides, Quinn's friend had just told him to be patient and careful.
So, instead, he said, "It's ummm... Yeah. It's nice. I mean... yeah. I like it... a lot."
Quinn smiled and blushed. "Yeah? Thanks."
Barbara watched this exchange. This was ridiculous. Just look at the two of them! They're obviously in love. This isn't the Middle Ages, or even the twentieth century, for crying out loud. People love each other and no one should question that love - especially the two people who were in love. These two just needed to come to terms with that.
"So," Quinn smiled as he gathered his purse from Barbara's counter, "you two have met each other."
"Yes," Barbara said.
"Well, no," Ricky said. "Not really. I mean.. you know that I'm Ricky, but you never told me your name."
"Barbara," she smiled and extended her hand. "My name is Barbara. Nice to meet you, Ricky."
"Oh, you're Barbara," Ricky smiled. "Quinn has mentioned you."
"Really?" She looked at Quinn. "Only good things, I hope."
"What else would I have to say?" Quinn smiled. She looked at Ricky. "Barbara helped me after the accident. She also gave me this job. She's been very good to me. She and Annie are my sisters and my closest friends."
Barbara smiled. She hadn't realized that Quinn felt that way about her.
Ricky looked at Barbara with respect. "So, you're part of the miracle that is Quinn's life. I guess I should thank you, then. I'm really happy that she's still here for me to get to know."
Geez... this kid... Barbara could see why Quinn was taken with this guy. He was an honest to goodness sweet guy.
While Barbara watched, Ricky looked more closely at Quinn and his face took on a glow as he smiled and said, "Thank you for wearing that dress."
Quinn looked down at it and blushed a bit more. "You like it?"
It was a dress that Barbara had selected, so she was pleased that Ricky liked it. It was a simple white, loose fitting, knee length affair. The smooth, unadorned bodice featured a modest scoop neckline and ruffled cap sleeves and a high, narrow, empire waistline. Below that, there was a loose abundance of material formed by three horizontal, widening circles of material, each forming a delicate, understated ruffle. The bottom of the first and second ruffled circle was sewn into a seam with the row below it, but the bottom row was a wide, relaxed ruffle that seemed to be in constant motion around Quinn's smooth, slender legs.
Barbara had run to a boutique across the street from the hair salon and picked out the dress and the plain, silk underdress that the sheer white material required while Quinn's perm was setting. When he first saw it, he thought that it looked babyish and like something that Holly Hobbie might wear, but Barbara assured him that it was a classically feminine dress that would make Quinn irresistible to Ricky.
Quinn tried to explain that attracting Ricky's attention was not really a problem, and that something less flirty would be more appropriate, but once he tried on the scrumptiously soft material and felt how the dress hung from his modest breasts, he adored the dress and looked forward to seeing Ricky's reaction to it.
Now that he'd seen Ricky's jaw drop, he was very satisfied with Barbara's choice.
Ricky shook his head in impressed bemusement. "Do I like it?" He chuckled. "You know how you look in it and you should be ashamed of yourself. Here we are trying to be friends and you show up looking like that." He shook his head, again. "You should be ashamed."
Quinn just smiled and blushed some more.
Barbara was also amused by watching this scene play out. The smitten Romeo was funny enough, but the innocent sex appeal of the flirtatious Juliet who had no idea how beautiful she really was, was just the sweetest thing she'd ever seen.
"Ok, you two," Barbara moved closer, putting a hand on Ricky's shoulder, "you should get going if you want to have an relaxed dinner before your class. Quinny, it might get chilly tonight. There's a lightweight, white cashmere sweater on rack four that will fit you. Go grab that to take with you."
"Oh, ok. Thanks." Quinn went to grab it.
When Quinn had gone, Barbara whispered to Ricky, "She's been through more than you can imagine, Ricky. Be patient and be gentle. I can see how much she likes you, but this is all very, very new to her. Don't give up on her."
Ricky looked at her with a mixture of intrigue and thanks on his face. "Did you see her in that dress? I'm not going anywhere."
"Atta boy," Barbara winked at him and Quinn reemerged from the racks.
"All set. Thanks, Barbara."
"Always my pleasure, baby," Barbara stepped away from Ricky and kissed Quinn's cheek. "Have a good night. Let me grab my purse and I'll walk out with you."
They walked out the door and down the path to the parking lot. Just as they arrived at Ricky's car, Ann emerged from her car, just a few spaces over.
"Hi," she smiled, but the smile faded as she saw Quinn's hair and dress. She looked at Barbara and shook her head. "A new dress and a perm? I thought you weren't going to spend any more money on Quinn?"
Barbara smiled and shrugged. "Oh, come on. Look at her! She's adorable! How could I not spend some money on her? Besides, we both needed some cheering up this morning. So, we got mani/pedis, then I got my color touched up and Quinny got some body installed in her hair. Then, we felt better."
Ann glanced down at Quinn's hands, saw the nicely manicured nails and shook her head. She leaned forward and kissed his cheek. "You look lovely, honey. Beautiful, actually, but you need to stop Barbie from spending money on you. Ok?"
"Ok," Quinn smiled, knowing that Ann's attitude was just a show for Barbara's sake. "You're all dressed up, too. Are you going out to dinner?"
Ann nodded. "It's payday, so I am taking Barbie out to thank her for helping you so much. I suppose that I should take her someplace even more expensive than I'd planned, now that she's spent even more money on you."
"She's just being Annie," Barbara laughed. "You two go have a good time."
"Ok," Quinn smiled and gave his sister a kiss.
"You look amazing, honey," Ann whispered.
"Thanks," he smiled. "I'll see you at home."
From 'The Autobiography of Miss Louisa Harper'
~ "Late in July, I needed to return to Manhattan Island for two days to have my dress for Miranda's wedding fitted and to visit the jewelry store at fifteen Union Square West to view the settings Mr Tiffany and his designers had created to accompany my ensemble. Mother was occupied with the preparations for the upcoming nuptials and was unable to accompany me. So, Langdon and Mother Beech-Thorndyke agreed to act as my chaperones.
We left Golden Bluffs as the sun rose and made the crossing from Aquidneck to Manhattan on Lanny's small Yacht in very short order. We traveled from the docks to the home of Mr and Mrs J. P. Morgan who had offered to act as our hosts for our one night in the hot, smelly city. Although the Morgan's owned a beautiful home in Newport - Beacon Rock sat dramatically on a stone ridge that sat high above Narragansett Bay - Mr Morgan's business interests would not allow him to be away from the city for the entire season. The Morgans tended to take advantage of their New Port estate in short visits, but their wealth was so vast that they could easily maintain a full staff at each of their homes, while my family would move the majority of our Fifth Avenue staff to Golden Bluffs for the entire summer.
Langdon spent the afternoon at his Manhattan offices while Mother Beech-Thorndyke, Mrs John Pierpont Morgan, Miss Frances to me , accompanied me to our clothier's salon. My dress was a work of art that clung tightly to my torso, then flared out in an elegant skirt that was bound to be the envy of every woman at Miranda's wedding. The diamond ensemble created by Tiffany and Company was equally beautiful and would be a breathtaking addition to an already stunning gown.
Both the dress and the jewelry received passing grades from Mother Beech-Thorndyke and Miss Frances, so arrangements were made to have them delivered to Golden Bluffs.
When the Morgan's carriage dropped us off in front of their residence at 219 Fifth Avenue, Lanny was waiting, dressed elegantly in his evening jacket. He offered me his arm and invited me to walk the halfblock south to dine at Delmonico's restaurant. Mother Beech-Thorndyke and Miss Frances were horrified that I would even consider going out to dinner without changing into evening clothes, but Lanny assured me that I looked lovely and, to tell you the truth, I felt that the dress I was already wearing was more lovely than the other two I'd brought with me.
Delmonico's had a beautiful dinning room. The highly decorated coffered ceilings, gas powered, ball shaped chandeliers, immaculate carpets, pristine linen wear and the smells of the finest food in Manhattan made the place nearly magical. Lanny had 'Lamb Chop Robinson,' a savory meal of thin, fried pork chops covered in Delmonico's Robinson sauce, while I had 'Lobster Newberg,' a delicious meal featuring boiled lobster meat that was then fried in butter and served in a sauce made from cream, cognac, sherry and eggs, with just a dash of cayenne pepper. Since the restaurant catered to an adults only clientele, I had only been allowed to dine there on two previous occasions. On each, I had ordered the Lobster Newberg and I found the dish so delicious that I could foresee no reason to ever try anything else on their menu.
The feeling of emancipation that I felt in that restaurant was exhilarating. Never before had I been allowed to be escorted by a man to a destination where everyone treated me like an adult. No Mother, no Mother Beech-Thorndyke, no Miss Frances. Just Lanny and me in a crowded restaurant learning about each other. Our wants, our needs, our ambitions, our achievements, of failures. By the time we finished our dinner and took the short walk back to the Morgan home, I felt as if I actually knew my betrothed and that a part of my heart had developed deep feelings for him. I believe he felt the same."
The Newport Creamery was an ice cream and sandwich place designed in the same manner as many other mid-twentieth century ice cream and sandwich places. A central work area was surrounded by a seating area featuring a combination of a bar and spinning stools, or small booths with fixed tables and benches. In short, it was nothing fancy.
Ricky held the door open and let Quinn enter the restaurant first. It wasn't very crowded and there were some booths available, and plenty of spinning stools up front, but Ricky said, "Let's go around the back. I have a friend working the grill. I want you to meet him."
So they walked around the bar and booths and sat on two of the stools in the rear.
"Joe!" Ricky called to the young man working the grill. "Joe! Hey, Joe!"
The young man looked up and turned towards the voice calling his name. "Rick! Hey, man, how are you doing?" He stepped away from the grill for just a moment to fist bump Ricky, then he returned to the hot surface, while also talking.
"Joe. This is Quinn. The girl I told you about."
The cook looked at Quinn and made a face that indicated he was impressed. "The girl from your dance class? Oh, hey, Quinn. It's nice to meet you. This guy hasn't shut up about you since he got home Tuesday night. Now that I see you, though, I can understand why. I'm Joe, by the way. I'm this guy's room mate at URI."
"Nice to meet you, Joe," Quinn smiled and then looked at Ricky. "Haven't shut up about me, huh? Has anything you've told him been positive?"
Joe let out a big belly laugh. "Are you kidding!? All I've been hearing is, 'Quinn is so smart,' and 'Quinn dances so well,' and 'Quinn is the most beautiful girl to have ever lived. She makes Helen of Troy, Beyoncé and Zoe Saldana all look ugly by comparison.'"
Ricky turned and faced Quinn with a sheepish grin. "I just said you are very pretty. I didn't say any of that other stuff."
Joe pushed down on a counter bell as he raised two plates onto a small, raised counter in front of the grill. "Order up!" He called to the wait staff. Then he wiped his hands and walked over to where the couple was seated. "So, I see that Rick is sparing no expense by bringing you to the nicest place in town. I guess he really wants to impress you. Nothing shows a lady a good time like a grilled burger and a shake! Am I right?"
Quinn smiled. It was nice to be the center of attention in this way - because someone likes you and not because you're that poor kid who was in the accident. "We're just grabbing something light before our class," he explained to Ricky's friend. "Besides, I was only here once before and that was a long time ago."
"Dance class?" Joe chuckled. "You have no idea how much fun I have poked at this guy for taking dance class, but if I'd known that there was a chance of meeting a beautiful girl there, I would have gone with him."
"I've been going on and off for two years and Quinn is the first girl I've meet who was under thirty," Ricky smiled as he glanced at Quinn.
Joe smiled and looked around. "It looks like it's only Amy taking orders right now. Beth must be on break. What can I get you guys?"
"Want a burger?" Ricky asked. "They're pretty good, here."
The answer was, of course, yes. Quinn would have lived to have had a burger, but he thought about the hazards of eating one in this white dress and he decided against it. "Umm... maybe something lighter."
Joe offered some advice. "I'd stay away from the tuna - it smells a little funny. We have salads, but they're mostly iceberg lettuce, so nothing special. How about a grilled cheese?"
"That sounds great," Quinn smiled. "Thank you."
"My pleasure. So, a burger for monsieur and a grilled cheese for mademoiselle," Joe put on a terrible French accent. "Perhaps a beverage as well? May I interest you in a fine Coca Cola, or perhaps a wonderfully effervescent Sprite?"
"I'll have a root beer," Ricky said, pretending to find his friend annoying.
"That sounds good," Quinn agreed. "I'll have a root beer, as well."
"Eh bien," Joe said with a quick bow. "I shall return."
"He thinks he's hilarious," Ricky laughed as he looked at Quinn.
"He is," Quinn laughed back. "So... why do you take ballroom dancing classes?"
Ricky let out a big sigh. "Ok, now, don't laugh, but... when I was a kid, my sister was in a Christmas show at the studio and they just needed a boy to come on and do one little thing. So, my mom volunteered me. Well, when a dance studio sees a boy willing to help out, they grab hold of him and never let go. I've been involved at the studio ever since. But... to tell you the truth, and please, PLEASE, never tell this to anyone..." he looked around to see if anyone could hear, then whispered, "... I really like ballroom dancing. I like the music, I like the exercise and I like the socializing, even if everyone else is two generations older than me."
"That's great," Quinn giggled. "They all seem to love you."
He shrugged. "I hope so."
Joe dropped off the two glasses of root beer and returned to his grill.
Each opened a straw and put it in the drink. Ricky immediately noticed the lipstick that Quinn's sip left behind on the straw and, for some reason, that little residue became one of the most exciting things he'd ever seen.
Quinn interrupted his thoughts by saying, "You didn't tell me you had a sister."
Ricky shook his head to clear it. "I don't."
"You just said..."
"I know, but I don't have 'A' sister. I have EIGHT sisters. I'm one of nine and I'm the only one with a 'Y' chromosome."
"Wow! Nine kids!" Quinn was very surprised.
"Yeah. That's a lot, I know. Too many, really, and waaaaay too many females to be around. No offense, I mean I like being with women, but eight, plus my mom... that's a lot of hormones."
Quinn laughed. "I bet! So... are you the baby?"
Ricky shook his head. "No. I'm fourth. I guess my parents always planned on having a big family because they named us alphabetically. Alice, Beatrice, Catherine, Dennis, Ellen, Fiona, Grace, Hannah and Isabelle. I'm Dennis, remember? That's nine kids in six years." He shook his head. "They were nuts."
"Wait," Quinn did a little math. "How can..."
Ricky held up a hand to stop her. "Alice and Bea are twins, Catherine a year later, me ten months after her, Ellie a year after me, Grace and Hannah are twins and then Bella arrived on her own, thank God."
"Wow! That's amazing," Quinn giggled. "I'm surprised they stopped at nine. Why not go for an even dozen?"
Ricky suddenly looked a bit more serious. "Because my dad left before Bella was born."
"Oh, my God."
"Yeah. It turned out that he actually had two families. He traveled a lot for work. He had us in Rhode Island and another family in Kentucky. When his other wife found out, he had to make a choice and... well... he didn't choose us."
"How did your mom cope with that? I mean... eight kids and one on the way."
"Grandpa Bill," Ricky said with a smile. "My grandfather, who is, incidentally, my father's father, was a machinist until he retired a few years ago. My grandmother had died a year before all this happened, and Grandpa Bill was living on his own in a nice little house near the bay. When my dad left and we found out that we were going to lose the house, Grandpa Bill stepped in. He sold his pretty little dream house and bought a three decker house in a nice neighborhood. Then we all moved in."
Quinn was wide eyed listening to the story.
"I think about what he did a lot. Here's a guy who worked a pretty tough job all of his life so he could retire and spend his golden years with his wife who he adores. Then, just as he's approaching retirement, his wife dies of cancer, his son turns out to be a jackass, leaving his grandchildren destitute. So he sells the house he loves, moves into the city, which is someplace he has never liked, goes from a quiet, contemplative life to a life filled with insane kids who have no idea what they did to make their dad leave them, and has to work an extra ten years to be sure he can eventually retire and still support this huge tribe of people he's been taking care of. I mean... how could he have done that?"
Quinn thought for a moment. "Have you ever asked him?"
"I have," Ricky smiled.
"What did he say?"
"He hugged me and said he was the luckiest man in the world because he got to spend his life with so many people he loved."
"Holy cow," Quinn whispered.
"Yeah." Ricky took a sip of root beer. "Remember the other night when I talked about people being damaged and you got upset? Well, that's me and my sisters. We are definitely damaged. My dad did a number on all of us, but he continues to do a number on me. I'll get letters and texts out of the blue from him saying that I'm his only son and that we need to patch things up between us... he even showed up at my dorm one time. To tell you the truth, I wasn't even sure who he was, but... every time I think I'm done thinking about him, he pops up out of nowhere again."
Joe, who had overheard a little of the conversation, placed their food on the table without saying anything.
Quinn just searched for something to say, but couldn't come up with anything.
Ricky ate one French fry, then said, "Quinn... when you talk about your life being weird... I get it. Mine is too. Sure, you're 'poor Quinn, who was in the accident,' but I was always 'poor Ricky who's father left.' I'm not comparing my struggle with yours, though. God knows I haven't been through anything like you have, and as I've said, you really are a miracle, but my life is weird, too. Maybe we were meant to find each other, you know? I mean, we've both been through some stuff and have survived and we both have people who love us and want us to have good lives. Now, I don't know if we're meant to be a couple, but... I think we're meant to be with each other. To help each other, maybe even love each other - one way or another."
A tear clung to the corner of Quinn's long eyelash, but refused to fall. He leaned over and kissed Ricky's cheek, then rested his head on Ricky's shoulder. "Ricky... I... I think you may be right and... I'm really sorry if I've been stand-off-ish. This is all really new to me. Like... in ways I can't even explain, but... you should know that I've never had a friend who I felt closer to than you. I mean that."
Ricky leaned his head on hers. "Thanks, Quinn. That really means a lot." He heaved a sigh. "I'm a heck of a date, aren't I? Come on. We need to eat up and get to class."
Quinn pulled away slowly and sat up straight. "Ok, but this is not a date." He smiled flirtatiously.
"Of course it's a date. I asked you to come to dinner with me. That's a date," Ricky flirted back.
"I'm paying for my own food so... it's NOT a date."
"No, you're not. You haven't even gotten your first paycheck, yet. I'm paying."
"No."
"Yep."
"Nope."
"Oh, yeah."
"Geez, would you two, stop!" Joe said without turning around. "Neither of you are paying for it. I'll take care of it. End of story."
Ricky chuckled. "You're the best, Joe!"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," his roommate shook his head.
"Big day, honey," Ann smiled as she pulled into a parking space at Golden Bluffs. It was Saturday morning, Quinn's first day as Louisa with actual guests. "You think you're ready?"
Quinn looked at the estate and saw people pulling into parking spaces and looking excited to have a day of exploring history. "I guess I'm as ready as I'll ever be." He looked at his sister and smiled. "I guess we'll find out if I'm any good at being Louisa pretty soon. Thanks for driving me."
"No problem," she squeezed his hand. "Look, I'm going to go grocery shopping now and then head home. My phone is on, though, so, if you need anything - just to talk, or... if you need to leave... or anything... just call. Ok?"
He nodded. "You're more nervous about this than I am, aren't you?"
Ann smiled. "Possibly. I just want you to be safe, Quinn. Be careful of your back and watch out for yourself. Ok?"
He leaned over and kissed her cheek, then opened the door. "I'll be fine. Thanks, Annie. Love you."
"Love you, too, honey," Ann said, feeling a lot of anxiety watching him walk away. All week, she knew this was coming, but it felt very real, now. The previous night, Quinn had been at home - no dance class and Ricky had had to work. They'd talked a lot and she realized that Quinn had changed a lot in a very short time. There was very little boy left in him. He wasn't exactly becoming Louisa, but Louisa had somehow been guiding him all week and now, her broken little brother was a budding young woman. It was a very odd thing and one that she'd never expected to be dealing with. She just prayed that Quinn was able to handle all of this. It was a lot.
"Good morning," Monica was the consummate hostess as the first group of visitors of the season arrived. "Welcome to Golden Bluffs. I am Mrs Harper, the 'Grand Dame' of Golden Bluffs. Welcome to our home. I shall be guiding you through this part of the estate. When we reach our more private areas of our home, my youngest daughter, Louisa, will take over as your guide." Monica always made a point of stating that the guests, who were always a majority female and many were mothers with excited daughters who had read Louisa's books, would be seeing Louisa soon, to avoid having them ask about meeting her. The guests, particularly the teenaged girls, always had a million questions about daily life in the Gilded Age, but they wanted those questions to be answered by Louisa - even if Louisa was just an actress. It was not unlike a full grown adult wanting to go to Walt Disney World to meet Goofy. Everyone knew that Goofy was just a kid in a costume, but the need to see the character was important to some people.
Quinn was listening from the top of the stairs where he remained unseen behind a corner. He was ready for this, he knew he was, but it was nerve wracking nonetheless. It would not only be the first time he'd have to do this particular job, it would be the first time he was alone and portraying Louisa, wearing replicas of her clothes and her hair style, in front of a crowd of people.
He took a deep breath and calmed himself. Easy-peasy. Just focus on Louisa's story and don't trip on your skirts!
He was wearing a lovely, soft blue dress that day. The the soft, modest neckline traveled along his modest cleavage and kept his modesty with a lace inlay that bridged the bottom of the opening. Three quarter length, massively puffed sleeves that narrowed to sleeves so well fitted that they needed to be buttoned on his lower arms and a lower bodice that buttoned tightly to emphasize his corseted waist led to the flowing blue, narrow bell shaped skirt that reached the floor and created a perfectly female silhouette.
"Excuse me, Miss," a staff member dressed as a maid spoke from behind Quinn, startling him a bit. "The tour group is about to come upstairs. You really should be waiting for them at your vanity."
"Oh," Quinn nodded. "Ok. Sorry."
The maid smiled. "No need to be sorry, Miss." She led Quinn to Louisa's bedroom.
"Thank you," Quinn said, as he sat. "I'm Quinn, by the way. I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."
The maid smiled and gave a very shallow curtsy. "I'm sorry, Miss, but I don't have a name and your name is Miss Louisa, Miss. Those are the only names that we use in public areas, Miss.'
Quinn shook his head. "Oh, yeah... of course. Sorry. It's my first day..."
"No, Miss, it's not." The maid was a bit frustrated. "Miss Louisa has lived here every summer of her life, Miss. Now, the tour group is coming up the stairs and you need to be ready to greet them when they arrive."
"Ok..."
"No, Miss. Miss Louisa never uses modern slang, Miss."
Quinn took a second to compose himself, before looking at the maid. A look of confidence and privilege appeared on his face. "Thank you. I am ready to receive guests, now."
"What's this, now?" Ann muttered as her house came into view. The grocery store had been crowded, not as crowded as it would be when the summer season began in earnest, but just the normal Saturday morning kind of crowded. Normally, she'd have gone a bit earlier to avoid the crowd, but she really wanted to drive Quinn that morning just to be sure he was ok. Now, as she pulled up to her home, she saw an old Ford Ranger parked in front of her house with a ramp coming off of its tailgate. The small pickup truck was in decent condition for a vehicle that was probably thirty years old, but it's location, in front of her house, was puzzling.
As she pulled into the driveway, something else was puzzling caught her attention. Her hedges, the hedges that were a massive pain in the butt to keep looking nice, had been groomed into long, box shaped decorations. Also, her front lawn had been mown and trimmed, and the sound of a lawn mower was coming from her back yard.
Oh, for crying out loud. Some damned lawn service had come to her house by mistake. Geez, this was going to upset someone and probably end up costing her money that she really did not have to spend.
She walked around the corner and walked along the side yard, the sound of the engine getting louder as she walked, driving her anxiety higher.
Just as she reached the back corner of the house, a man in khaki shorts, a dirty, sleeveless tee shirt and a loose, unbuttoned, long sleeved work shirt stepped into her path, surprising both of them.
"Oh, hi!" The older man with a few days growth of beard and a bent rimmed baseball cap said with a smile. "You must be Ann, right?"
He caught her completely off guard and it took a moment or two for her to respond. "Umm, yeah... yes... I'm Ann. What... what is going on here? I didn't call anyone to do any work here. Who authorized this?"
"Authorized?" The man chuckled. "I'm sorry. No one 'authorized' us to do this. Let me explain. My name is Bill. I believe you know my grandson."
The man pointed to the younger man riding an older model, John Deere lawn tractor in the back yard.
Ann shaded her eyes and looked closely. "Is that... Ricky? What's this all about?"
The man smiled broadly. "I'm sorry if we caught you off guard, Miss, but Rick and I were working in our yard early this morning and he was talking about... Quinn, I believe her name is. She's your sister, right? Well, anyway, Rick was telling me how he wanted to do something special for her, but he didn't have a lot of money. So, I asked him what he could do that wouldn't cost any money that would make this girl's life better. He said that you had a great house, but the yard could use some attention. So... here we are. I drove him over because my old truck isn't as reliable as I'd like it to be - I really only use it to go to flea markets - and I didn't want him to be stranded on the side of the road. Anyway - when we got here, you weren't home, so I figured that we'd just do the job and disappear, like the elves that made the shoes."
"The elves..."
"You know. The Elves and The Shoe Maker. The children's story? No? Well. It doesn't matter. I hope you're ok with this. He's a good kid and he's trying to impress your sister. She sounds like an unusual girl."
"Unusual?" Ann looked at the older man who smiled back.
"Special." He winked. "I've never seen Rick so smitten. She must be something."
Ricky was driving back in their direction and spotted Ann talking to his grandfather. He waved and smiled, broadly.
Ann's first reaction was to scream that this invasion was a big violation of her trust and that coming onto her property was just not acceptable, but then she looked at the yard. The bushes that boarded her property were beautifully trimmed and the refuse from the trimming had even been raked up and tossed into the compost heap in the rear of the yard. So, rather than chastise the older man and his love struck grandson, Ann shook her head and smiled. "Wow. This... this is a really big help, Bill. I can't thank you both enough. The yard looks great - better than it has for a long time. Thank you."
"Don't thank me. Thank Ricky. He's a good kid. Really he is."
"I know that. Look... I need to get my groceries into the house. Let me at least make you some lunch to thank you."
Grandpa Bill's lower lip protruded for a moment before he smiled. "Lunch would be great. Thank you."
"Did you have to wear a corset every day?" The fourteen year old girl asked after Quinn had completed his scripted presentation.
"Every day!" Quinn smiled. "It becomes like second nature when you wear on all of the time."
"I've heard that corsets can push your organs around inside of you. Did that ever happen to you?" Another girl of approximately the same age asked.
"That is very true and I know a few girls my age who did some real damage to themselves by over tightening their corsets. Mother was always very strict with me about my corset lacing. Tight enough to give me the proper form for a young lady of my day, but never tight enough to do any damage. It did shape me, though. After years of corset training, my waist became permanently shaped by them."
"Are you wearing one now?" The first girl asked.
"I am,"Quinn smiled.
"Can we see?" A third girl asked.
Quinn laughed in a display of embarrassment. This was the third group of visitors he'd seen and the questions had been very similar. He was growing comfortable with the job and enjoying the people - especially the young girls and their interest in clothing. "Oh, my good heavens, no, I could never show another person my lingerie. I am shocked that you'd even ask."
"This is stupid," a boy groaned. "Who cares about stupid girls' underwear."
The rest of the group just looked disgusted at the twelve year old boy.
"Well, you know," Quinn said in a very confidential way to the boy, as he took the boy's hand and turned him to face her, "girls only wore corsets to look nice for boys, and guess what."
"What?" The boy asked.
"Boys wore corsets, too. In my day, boys would lace up their corsets, too, so that they'd look slender and handsome for the girls. So, by the time you were fourteen or fifteen, whenever you put on your fancy suit, you'd be wearing a corset made for young men. Now, that would have made even a chubby man look handsome. Of course, you are a very handsome young man. So, a corset would be wasted on you, but a plain girl like me needs all the help she can get."
The boy smiled. "I think you're very pretty."
"Oh... thank you. You're very sweet. Can I ask you a favor?"
He smiled and nodded.
Quinn pointed to his right cheek. "Could you give me a little kiss on my cheek? Just a little one."
The boy's smile widened and he blushed as he leaned forward and kissed Quinn's cheek, then hustled as quickly as he could back to his mother.
"Thank you," Quinn smiled. "Now, it's very, very important that if any of you ever speak to my betrothed, please, please, PLEASE don't tell him that I asked for a kiss from another handsome man. Do any of you know my betrothed name?"
In unison, the young girls all said, "Langdon Beech-Thorndyke."
"That's right, and Lanny and I are very much in love. So, please don't tell him about this."
Everyone was smiling and enjoying the show.
"Ladies and gentlemen," the group leader, who was also dressed as a maid, called, "I'm afraid that Miss Louisa has another group to see, so we must be going. Let's all say 'goodbye' to Miss Louisa and follow me to the library."
There was a sound that could only be described as the sound of disappointment as the group realized that they had to move on.
"Thank you, everyone for coming," Quinn smiled. "Please come and visit me again."
The session ended with Quinn receiving at least a dozen hugs from children and parents alike. The last hug came from the same little boy. As he trotted out the door, his mother smiled at Quinn and said, "Thank you. You made his day."
"He made mine," Quinn smiled.
"And then, one day, Dennis here just decided that he didn't like that name and he demanded that we all call him Ricky. Not Rick, or Richard, but Ricky. If you called him Dennis, he would just ignore you, so we all just complied and... the rest is history."
Ann laughed at the story as Ricky smiled in embarrassment. "I have a very forceful personality, at times." He joked.
"I guess," Ann laughed.
"Well," Grandpa Bill said, pushing his chair back, "I think it's time that Ricky and I head back to the mainland. He's got to shower and get ready to come right back and take your sister out to a movie. Isn't that right, Rick."
"Yeah," Ricky smiled and nodded. Ann noticed that Ricky's effervescent personality was a bit less bubbly when in the presence of his grandfather. Perhaps it was out of respect for the older man, but he was definitely quieter.
"Hey, I can't thank you guys enough," Ann smiled. "I didn't know how or when I'd get to the yard work. Look, I know you did it for Quinn, but it really helped me out."
"Anytime, Annie," Grandpa Bill smiled. "Ricky's told me about what you and Quinn have been through and we're always here to help. What do I always say, Ricky?"
Ricky smirked as he recited his grandfather's favorite inspirational pep talk. "We're never going to have wealth, but we can find riches in helping others."
Ann shook her head. "I didn't think people like you existed."
Grandpa Bill winked, again. "When you have ten people living with you, you need to create a very strict code of behavior. My grandkids and their mother know that they need to tow the line. All that aside, though... it was a pleasure meeting you and if you need any help with your yard, or any minor work in your house... anything at all, just tell us. Rick and I will help you out."
"Thanks, Bill... Ricky. I wish I could offer something in return."
"Don't be silly," the older man laughed. "Now that we've met, you're family. Family takes care of family. Here," he pulled a business card from his wallet and handed it to Ann. "This is my contact information. Let me know if you need us."
Ann smiled at the quaint, antiquated practice of business cards. It was very sweet.
"That goes for me, too," Ricky added, as he and his grandfather headed towards the front door.
Suddenly, Ann felt very guilty about taking advantage of the kindness of these people. These were genuinely kind and generous people and Quinn was... well, maybe not lying to Ricky, but certainly not being truthful. How could he just string this kid along forever? He and his grandfather were... nice. Nicer than anyone she knew. This all needed to be resolved and if Quinn wasn't going to do it...
"Ricky. Umm. Can I talk to you privately for just a moment?" She asked, just as they reached the door.
"Sure." He turned to his grandfather, "I'll be right there, grandpa." He looked at Ann, again. "What's up?"
What should she say? The girl you love is a boy? No. But she had to say something.
"Umm... Ricky... Hey... Do you know my name?"
Ricky chuckled. "Of course I do. It's Ann."
"Yeah," Ann nodded, "but... what's my full name?"
The young man thought for a moment. "I guess I just assumed it's the same as Quinn's"
"And what's Quinn"s last name?"
"Collins, right. I mean, that's what she told me."
"Yeah, that's it," Ann said as she took a breath and considered how to proceed. "So... her name is Quinn Collins and she lives in Portsmouth, right?"
Ricky was confused. "Yeah."
"What has she told you about her back?"
"She broke it in an accident, right?"
Ann nodded. "It was a bad accident, Ricky. A very bad accident. So bad that it shut down the Highway for hours. So bad that it made the TV news and all the papers."
Ricky nodded. "Ok."
"Look," Ann bit her lower lip and just spit out what was on her mind. "You know how to use Google, right?"
He nodded. "What are you trying to tell me? You and that Barbara lady keep talking in riddles all the time."
She reached up and petted his cheek. "That's all I can really say, Ricky, but... think about what I said. If you do a little research, it might answer some questions."
Ricky blinked, not really understanding what Ann was getting at. "Ok... I guess. Thanks."
"You'd better get going."
Ricky tried to process what had just transpired. "Ok. I'll... I'll talk to you later."
To Be Continued...
On Becoming Miss Louisa Harper of New York and Newport - 5
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of New York and Newport: 5
things get more complicated.
Author's Note:Thank you for the continued support for this odd story. I hope that readers are enjoying both the storylines. Also, as we head into summer,I hope you are all staying safe! Please, If you enjoyed this chapter, toss me a review!~Clara
This version of On Becoming Miss Louisa Harper of New York and Newport: 5 has been updated with many corrections towards spelling and grammar.~Sephrena.
Image Credit: Image created through the use of ai at https://perchance.org/beautiful-people .~Sephrena.
Chapter 5
From 'The Autobiography of Miss Louisa Harper'
~ "The week prior to Miranda's wedding was a hectic and crowded one at Golden Bluffs. All of our relations came to Newport for the event and many of them stayed with us. Unfortunately, we also had many friends and business associates staying as well, which did lead to some difficult choices. Father was a self-made man who had family he wanted in attendance, but they were from a lower rung of society. So, since the rooms were assigned to guests according to their social standing, there were some hurt feelings.
Father was adamant that his sister, though, Aunt Ada, needed to stay in a nice room. So, I invited her to stay with me. At just thirty one years old, Aunt Ada was a great deal of fun. She was vivacious and mischievous, and she prided herself on contradicting nearly every word that came from Father's mouth, and this behavior would always make Father laugh. If I were ever to contradict Father, he would grew angry immediately, but when Aunt Ada did the same, he would laugh out loud.
Not only Father was subject to Aunt Ada's wiles, though. Every male seemed to be amused by her flirtations. She had a way of being playful without being sensual. If the men did feel a little titillation, it was not so intoxicating as to encourage further advances. Instead, they would laugh and, invariably, agree with whatever Aunt Ada said. Even Langdon was not immune to her personality. She was like a 'Siren' of ancient times, but instead of coaxing men to perish on the rocky shore, she used her voice to lure men to bend to her will.
She was a proud, unmarried woman who was able to navigate the world using just her wit and smile. I had never witnessed another woman with her skills. I wanted to study her, to learn from her and, more than anything, to be like her. That summer, I became her apprentice."
"It sounds like you really enjoyed yourself," Ricky smiled as he listened to Quinn's nearly nonstop, ebullient stream of stories about his first day with an audience as Louisa.
"Oh, it was so great! The girls had so many questions about the clothes and the hair - lots about the corsets, of course, but there were also so many insightful questions about the social norms of The Gilded Age and things like that. I was really shocked by how smart they were. Oh, thank you." That last sentence was spoken to the attendant who was bringing Quinn's food to his seat in the movie theater. Just chicken fingers and fries to go with a small popcorn for later in the evening when the film began.
After the attendant had left Ricky his food as well, Ricky asked, "Have you ever been to a theater like this before, where they bring you food?"
Quinn shook his head. "I've never been anywhere, though," he giggled. "You, know... I really appreciate everything you're introducing me to. I didn't even know that places like this existed. It's really cool!"
That made Ricky laugh. "Yeah, I guess it is. It's kind of pricey, considering we're just getting finger food, or 'pub grub,' as one of my sisters would say, but so what. It makes for a fun night."
Quinn gave him an agreeing smile as he nibbled a fat French fry. Suddenly, it occurred to him that he'd not relieved himself since much earlier that day. "What time does the movie start?"
Ricky checked his watch. "Not for another twenty minutes. The previews will start in ten minutes or so. Why?"
"I need to use the Ladies' Room before it starts. I'll be right back."
"Ok," Ricky smiled.
Quinn went to leave, but stopped and pointed at his food. He smiled a very pretty smile and said, "Don't eat my food while I'm gone."
"I can't promise anything," Ricky smiled back.
There was a twinkle in Ricky's eyes when he teased that made Quinn want nothing more than to be kissed and held by this beautiful young man. There was a warmth spreading under his corset that scared and excited Quinn tremendously, but to be sure that he didn't act on any of the impulses he was feeling, Quinn just walked up the aisle towards the exit in the back of the theater.
He was lost in thought as he reached the back row, and just before he turned left towards the door, two young women sitting on the aisle gave him a smile and a wave and said, "Hi."
Caught a bit off guard, Quinn blinked before smiling back and returning the greeting.
"I love your dress," the older of the two girls said.
"Oh..." still surprised, Quinn looked down at the sage green, floral sundress he was wearing and then returned his gaze to the young woman. "... thank you."
This was Quinn's first excursion into a public ladies' room and he was relieved that it was not crowded. In fact, when he entered, there was only one other person in there, and she was drying her hands and preparing to exit.
Quinn entered one of the eight stalls in the room and took care of what needed to be done as quickly as he could, then opened the door to the stall and stopped in surprise. "Oh... hi... I didn't hear anyone come in."
The two young women from the back row smiled at Quinn, not in a threatening manner, but it was still odd.
"Hi," the older one who had complimented his dress smiled. "You must be the amazing Quinn we've heard so much about."
Completely flummoxed, Quinn took a moment before responding, "Excuse me?"
"You are Quinn, right?" The younger girl asked.
He eyed them suspiciously before responding, "I am Quinn, but... do I know you?"
The girls looked at each other and giggled. The older one spoke first, "I don't think so, but we have heard a lot about you."
"You have?" That was perplexing. "From who?"
The younger woman laughed. "We're scaring her, Alice." She smiled at Quinn and extended a hand. "I'm Cathy and this is Alice. We're Ricky's sisters."
"Two of them, anyway," the one who was, apparently, named Alice added.
Quinn accepted the handshake from Cathy and then one from Alice as well. "Nice to meet you. So... are you spying on us?"
The sisters looked at each other and laughed. "No, we're not spying on you," Alice said. "We just came to the movies and when you got up, I said to Cathy that I liked your dress. We were both looking at you when we spotted Ricky sitting there."
"We just assumed that you were the girl that he's been going on about." Cathy said.
"Going on about? What has he said about me?" Quinn was a bit concerned that Ricky may have been telling people stories about him that made him look... odd... different.
"Not to worry, honey," Alice assured him. "Ricky's your biggest fan. That's why Rick and our grandpa went over to the island and did all that yard work today."
"I'm confused," Quinn looked from one woman to the other. "What yard work did he do?"
"Oops," Alice grimaced. "I think I may have ruined his surprise. I'm sorry."
Cathy took over the narrative, "Ricky and our grandpa went to your place this morning and trimmed all the bushes, mowed the lawn, weeded the flower beds... all kinds of stuff, I guess."
"I didn't know that," Quinn was very surprised.
"Grandpa said that he met your sister. He really liked her. Said that she was a charming." Cathy chuckled. "For Grandpa, that's very high praise."
"He's a bit old fashioned," Alice laughed.
"So, what? Do think he's going to hurt himself or something? Annie... Quinn worked way too hard to get well to ever hurt himself
intentionally." Barbara sipped the red wine Ann had provided as an accompaniment to the beef kabobs she'd made for them on the back deck of her house. It had been quite a while since the shrubs and fast growing sumac trees that sprung up around the deck had been trimmed away to allow them to use the nice deck that Ann's father had built the first, and only, summer they had all lived together in this house.
"Barbie, I don't know WHAT I think Quinn might do, but I spent a lot of time reading about young people who are discovering their sexuality for the first time and are having a hard time dealing with it. I'm really scared that if Quinn continues to deny his feelings for this kid... well, it could really mess him up."
Barbara considered that as she took another sip. "I don't know, Annie. I've watched him at the mansion and I've seen an incredible change in him. Quiet, shy, little Quinny, the boy with the sweet smile and freckles has become this beautiful young woman - maybe not as mature as his twenty-one year old age might indicate, but there is nothing boyish - and certainly nothing mannish - about Quinny any more. She's all girl. I think she's accepting it all pretty well."
"The clothes and all that, yeah. Quinn likes the clothes and the attention, but..." Ann thought about what she wanted to say. "Quinn is... conflicted, I guess is the right term, about how he feels about... well, I don't know if it's all boys, but certainly this boy. I think that, maybe because he was only fourteen when he suddenly was in complete isolation, his thoughts about same sex love are, maybe, just a little immature. I think that he is fascinated with the clothes and that they opened up a new way of looking at himself. It's like he's accepting that he might be a woman deep down, but the idea of being with a guy is just too... gay... for him. And I mean 'gay' in that horrible way that middle school boys use it."
"So...?" Barbara wasn't getting it. "Give him time. He'll figure it out. That's the same advice I gave to Ricky. Just be patient."
"Barbie," Ann shook her head, "you need to read the statistics around things like this. More often than not, the boys who go through things like this have incredibly high incidences of eating disorders, cutting... even suicide. I really don't know how to deal with this."
Barbara chuckled. "'I really don't know how to deal with this.' I remember you saying the exact same thing when they told you they were sending Quinny home and you'd have to be responsible for every aspect of his life. You got him through that, Annie, and you'll get him through this."
"Yeah, Barbie, but all these kids..."
"All THOSE kids didn't have YOU, though, Annie. Quinn does. To a lesser extent, he has me and my mom, too, but... Annie, Quinny adores you. You are his world - for a long time, you literally were his world - and even though he made you frustrated and there were nights that both of you ended up crying, you have always known that he loves you and he has always known that you loved him. All of this is tough, Annie, yeah, I get that, but it's nothing compared to what the two of you have been through already."
"So your advice is what? Not to worry?"
"Oh, God, Annie, NO! You will worry, no matter what I say. That's just who you are, but... be patient. Tell Quinn how much you love him. Accept all of his changes. Be his sounding board. And keep reminding him that we can't always control who we love. He'll get there with your help."
"Or..." Annie looked at the table top for a moment. "... are we forcing Quinn into this boy's arms?"
"Why would you say that?"
Ann sighed, "Because he was so freaked out when he realized that Ricky wasn't gay."
"And he found that out when? WHILE HE WAS KISSING HIM!!! Annie... if Quinn didn't want to be with Ricky, he'd be at home with us right now. Instead, he spent almost an hour getting ready to go to the movies with him. Annie, Quinny is in love. He's just afraid to accept that."
Ann nodded. Barbara was right. Hell, she had to be right because if she was wrong, then Quinn was going to have problems with which Barbara was unable to help.
"Are you ok?" Ricky asked as Quinn returned to his seat.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Why?"
"No reason," Ricky shrugged. "It's just that you've been gone a long time."
Quinn returned his shrug in reply as they both felt some people move into the row behind them.
"I hope your chicken and fries aren't too cold."
Quinn took a taste or a chicken nugget. "Nope. They're fine."
"Good." Ricky nibbled some of his own food for a few moments before Quinn spoke.
"So... I heard that you did some yard work at my house today."
Ricky looked surprised for a moment, then smiled. "You talked to your sister?"
Quinn shook his head and looked at the screen, which at this point was showing very easy, pop culture, trivia questions.
Ricky thought for a moment. Who else would have seen the lawn? "Then... how did you find out that my grandfather and I did some work at your house?"
Quinn looked at Ricky as if his question was a surprise. "Huh? Who told me? Oh. There were some girls in the bathroom. They told me."
"What?" Ricky made a confused face. "Girls in the bathroom told you about YOUR lawn?"
Again, seemingly distracted by his comment, Quinn turned and said, "Hmm? Yeah."
"This is so weird," Ricky said, in wonder.
"By the way," Quinn suddenly looked interested, "why did you just show up and do lawn work, any way?"
"Well..." Ricky didn't feel comfortable saying that the reason he'd done all the work was because he was falling deeply in love with Quinn and wanted to do something to impress her, so he stumbled over his words for a moment before saying, "... I just thought that, you know, you could use some help... in the yard, I mean."
Quinn smiled sweetly. "That's nice, Ricky."
He smiled back, but he was surprised when he heard one of the people in the row behind him say, "Oh, this is pathetic. Just tell her you did it because you love her."
Shocked, he turned and saw his sisters laughing. "Damnit!" He said in a loud whisper, trying to sound forceful without disturbing the other people in the theater. "What are you two doing here? I intentionally didn't tell anyone where I was going tonight just to avoid something like this."
"Relax, Ricky," Cathy shook her head. "We just came to see the movie. We didn't know that you'd be here."
"Geez..." Ricky hissed. He looked at Quinn. "I'm sorry. They think they're being cute. Do you want to leave?"
"Leave?" Quinn was surprised. "Of course not. They're just teasing you, Ricky. Don't get upset."
"I'm not upset." He took a breath to calm down. "Look, Quinn..." he shook his head, irritated, but resigned to the situation. "Quinn, this is sister number one, Alice and sister number three, Catherine. Blisters, this is Quinn... the girl I told you about."
"We've met," Alice smirked.
"Don't worry about the 'blisters' remark, Quinn," Cathy laughed. "We know he loves us."
"Sadly, that's the truth," Ricky said, relaxing a bit. "Look... I thought long and hard about where to go tonight, ok? Please don't ruin this night for us, ok?"
"Why? Are you proposing or something?" Cathy teased.
Alice took a more mature approach. "Don't worry, Ricky. Just enjoy your movie and forget we're here. We'll walk out to the parking lot with you afterwards. Ok?"
Ricky shook his head. "Ok." He turned and settled heavily into his seat.
Quinn looked over the seat at the sisters and made a face that said, 'Maybe that was a mistake.'
"Don't worry," Alice smiled back. "He's not mad. Ricky doesn't know how to be mad."
The previews started and the movie followed it. It was a silly action/adventure/comedy with handsome people surviving un-survivor-able events at every turn, but it made everyone laugh. At some point, in the darkness, Quinn noticed that the fingers on his left hand were intertwined with the fingers on Ricky's right hand. Quinn looked down and wondered when this had happened. How long had he been holding Ricky's hand? Should he continue to hold Ricky's hand? What harm could there be in holding on just a little longer? Besides, it felt nice. He felt... connected. Not just connected because he was physically holding Ricky's hand and connecting in that way, but... connected like... like... like in the way that every human being longs to be connected to another human being. He felt a sense of warmth - of friendship, but more than friendship - of protection - of... love.
The feeling was entirely different than anything he'd ever felt before. He loved his sister. He felt affection for Barbara and Mrs Jenkins. He'd had friends before the accident, so he knew what friendship felt like. This was new, though. Just this innocent little touch fulfilled a longing to be with Ricky. A longing to have Ricky be his guy and to be Ricky's girl. Definitely NOT to be Ricky's guy, but to be his girl. That was a need that had been growing in him since Ricky walked into that dance class, but... was it possible? Could Ricky ever see him as his girl if he found out the truth and... what was he, anyway? Gay? Transgendered? What was HE, himself, him, Quinn? What was Quinn and and could Quinn live with being what he actually was?
He was still pondering all of that when the movie ended and the lights came up.
"Did you like it?" Ricky asked, as they stood up.
"Yeah, it was great," Quinn smiled, despite the fact that he'd lost the thread of the plot quite some time ago.
"Excuse me," a lady walking up the aisle said, "but didn't I see you playing Louisa Harper at Golden Bluffs earlier today?"
"Oh," Quinn was caught a bit off guard, "yes. You did."
"Oh, let me tell you... you were wonderful. I brought my kids there three times last year and the girl that played Louisa was excellent, but you were awesome! I know you have a script for some of it, but you were so good with the kids! My daughter was raving about you all the way home."
"Really!?" Quinn was surprised to get such a rave review. "I'm so glad you enjoyed it. Please come back again."
"Oh, I will. You're not going to believe this, but my little boy put up a HUGE fuss about going to that 'girly' place again, but when he started acting up today, you gave him some attention and now... well, let's just say that I think we'll have to bring flowers with us the next time we come. He is smitten with you. Just plain smitten."
Quinn laughed as he said, "Ohhh, I know who your kids are, now. Oh, he was so sweet."
"Thanks to you." The woman looked up the aisle and said, "Oops! My husband is all the way to the top and waiting for me. Thank you, again, and we'll see you soon."
"Bye! And thank you!" Quinn said.
"Wait," Cathy said, after the woman left, "you're playing Louisa Harper this summer?" She slapped her brother's arm.
"Ouch! Hey! What was that for!?" Ricky said, fairly loudly.
"For not telling us you were dating Louisa Harper!" Cathy actually looked angry.
"I told you she was working at Golden Bluffs." Ricky tried to mount a defense against something that made no sense to him.
"So what? Beatrice worked at The Breakers, but who cares. We assumed that she was just one of the maids who lead the groups from room to room." Cathy shook her head.
"Or maybe a waitress," Alice joined in.
"Being Louisa is like... I don't know... it's like being Belle in a production of Beauty and The Beast. She wears the best clothes, has the best lines and has the best wigs." Cathy shook her head.
"I don't wear a wig," Quinn tossed in. "We just put my hair up."
"Great God Almighty, Ricky!" Cathy looked even more shocked than angry now. "You're dating the Princes of Aquidneck! Why didn't you tell us!?"
"Well, for one," Ricky took a stand, "because I didn't want you going to Golden Bluffs and embarrassing me, and for two - if that's the right thing to say - because we're not REALLY dating. We're just... hanging out together."
"What!?!?" Both sisters were a bit suspect of that remark, but Alice took over from there. "Come on, Ricky. You came home today, stinking of sweat from doing chores at her house, took a twenty minute shower, complained about your hair for an hour, then left the house dressed like a million bucks."
"Can we... maybe... just leave, now and we can talk at home before I go back to campus?" He obviously did not want to continue this line of conversation.
"Oh," Cathy said, suddenly serious. "I'm sorry, guys. I guess we misunderstood."
"Geez, Quinn, you must think we're jerks. I guess we just assumed that..." Alice looked really upset.
"No, no, no," Quinn shook his head. "I understand, it's just... well, it's too long a story to tell right now, but... I just... I don't have much experience with guys. We're just taking it very slow."
"Yeah," Ricky nodded. "Can we just leave it there?"
"Sure," Cathy smiled.
They walked out to the parking lot and before they got into Ricky's car, Alice asked, "Hey, Quinn. Are you free on Monday by any chance?"
"No, she's not," Ricky said, but Quinn answered at the same time.
"Yes. There are no character actors at the Mansion on Mondays and Tuesdays, so I work Wednesday through Sunday."
'Cool! Look, we have a 'Sisters Day' on Monday. All eight of us are going to an outlet mall to do some shopping and get some family time in. It's 'sisters' only, so Ricky's not invited..."
"As if I'd want to spend a day dress shopping with eight women," he tried to interject, but Alice didn't even slow down.
"... but I was thinking that it would be a pretty cool way for you to get to know all of us."
Quinn was more than a little surprised by the invitation. He'd love to do something new with anyone, but being alone with Ricky's sisters seemed a bit overwhelming. Still... he'd really enjoyed going dress shopping with Barbara the other day... this could be a lot of fun.
"One big problem," Ricky almost laughed as he tried to foil his sister's plans. "Quinn lives way up in Portsmouth and she doesn't drive. You'd have to get to Newport, then go another twenty minutes to get to Portsmouth. You guys are planning on going all the way up to Wrentham, Massachusetts. That would add an extra hour to your trip - both up and back."
It wasn't that Ricky wanted to ruin a day out for Quinn, he just didn't want his sisters getting to know her better than he did, and he certainly did not want them telling Quinn all kinds of embarrassing stories about him without knowing what had been said and being able to mount a viable defense for whatever they told her.
"You don't drive?" Cathy was surprised. "Eye sight or something?"
Quinn felt a bit deflated. He wasn't sure if he wanted to go or not, but he would have liked to have made that decision on his own. "No... like I said, it's too long a story to go into at this time of night, but... I don't drive."
"Tell you what," Alice said, with a great deal of enthusiasm, "I'll take a ride over get you earlier in the day, then we can pick up the girls on the way back. I don't mind the drive over to the island and I'm always ready to go an hour before anyone else."
"Oh... I'd like that..." Quinn said with a sad smile, "... but I wouldn't want to put you to that kind of trouble."
"Trouble?" Alice laughed. "Honey, it's no problem at all. Who knows... one day, we might actually be sisters."
"We're a big, loud family, Quinn," Cathy laughed, too. "Trust us... it's better that you get used to us sooner, rather than later."
From "The Autobiography of Miss Louisa Harper."
~ "Aunt Ada and I went to town on a bright Monday morning, in the week before the wedding. It was one of the most perfect summer days I could ever remember and I mentioned to Aunt Ada that I hoped that Ada's wedding day would be as glorious as that day was.
Ada shook her head. "I don't think that God would waste a beautiful day on a marriage that will contain no joy."
Her bluntness shocked me. None of us thought for a moment that Miranda loved her fiancé, but we were discreet about our feelings. Here we were in an open carriage and Aunt Ada was speaking freely, without a concern about anyone overhearing - even the driver, a few feet away.
"My heart aches for your sister, Louisa, but when I see you and Langdon together, it reaffirms the idea that it is possible to find love in this world."
As we entered the town, Aunt Ada noticed a bookseller's establishment. "Driver. Stop here, please."
I was confused. We'd come to town to visit a silversmith who Aunt Ada had commissioned to make a serving set for Miranda as a wedding gift. On the rare occasions on which Mother and I went into the town of Newport, we never strayed from the route we'd planned. I was certain that, should our driver report our change of itinerary to Father, that we would receive a harsh tongue lashing.
None of that bothered Aunt Ada, though.
Feeling somewhat as if I was involved in an intrigue, I followed Aunt Ada into the booksellers, a place that smelled heavenly. The leather bindings, the ink, the paper, all of it smelled of a freed mind.
Aunt Ada went directly to the proprietor and asked for a copy of 'Withering Heights,' a nearly forty five year old tome of which we had at least two copied at Golden Bluffs. When I tried to inform Aunt Ada of this fact, she just 'tsked' and waited for the proprietor to return from the shelves with romantic novel.
When she was handed the book, she seemed to know exactly what she was looking for. When she'd located the passage she desired, she asked the proprietor for a pen, ink and a ribbon. She used the ribbon as a place holder, then used the pen and ink to underline a passage, then inscribe a message in the front blank page of the book.
'My dearest Louisa. Love is rare in this world and it is not always an easy commodity to retain. Being in love is as risky as trading in tulip bulbs. The commodity is delicate and requires constant attention if it is to bloom year after year. When you feel alone or ill of heart due to the neglect of affection that will inevitably occur in the course of a marriage, remember that when I look at look at you and Langdon I am reminded of the passage I underlined on page five of chapter nine of this book and remember - Be patient with Langdon, my child. He is merely a man, but he is a man who is deeply in love with you, now and forever. With all my love, Aunt Ada.'
I was surprised by this kind of sentimentality from a woman who I had always viewed as charming and intelligent, but somewhat superficial when it came to emotion. So, I opened the book at the ribbon and read the underlined passage aloud.
'...because he's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.'
I sniffled and shook as I hugged my aunt, a display of affection which would have scandalized mother had she witnessed it.
"Miranda will always be rich and secure," Aunt Ada smiled and held my cheeks in her gloved hands, "but you, my dear, will always be loved and that is a far greater fortune than money can provide."
"You're going shopping with his sisters!? Eight sisters!?" Ann was shocked. It was Monday morning and she had to get to school. She'd assumed that her brother would be sleeping late and was surprised to find him awake and preparing for an excursion with Ricky's sisters - all the way up to Massachusetts, no less! "Quinn... what exactly are your intentions with this boy? You keep saying that you only want to be friends and now you're planning a family outing with his eight sisters! Eight sisters, Quinn! They're not just looking to be your friend. They're evaluating you as a potential sister-in-law."
"No they're not, Annie," Quinn shook his head as he checked his makeup in the mirror. "They just invited me to go with them."
"As a test-drive, Quinn. They want to see if you're worthy of dating the one brother in the family." Ann huffed and ran her hand through her own, mousy brown hair. "Quinn... honey... Do you... Do you... love... this boy?"
Quinn stopped and stared at his reflection without speaking.
"Honey... if you do... that's ok. You know that, right?"
Still nothing.
"Quinn? Honey? Do you love him?"
Finally, he spoke. "I... I don't know... I might, but... I'm trying really hard not... to think that way."
Ann sat on her mother's bed and looked at her little brother sitting at the vanity. His always pretty hair was now rich and full and wavy. His makeup, something he'd never even considered wearing barely a week before, had been applied meticulously. His narrow shoulders were made even more feminine by the narrow straps of the all-in-one bra and corset combination he wore.
He was soft and pretty and confused as hell and she wanted to push him a bit harder, but then she saw the exposed skin of his back, above the back of the corset, it broke her heart. The skin was scarred in a symmetrical pattern left behind from surgery after surgery after surgery. Her brother was nearly her child, too. She loved him differently now than she had before the accident. She had resented him at times, sure, but look at the poor little thing. He still needed her. And she wanted to be there for him.
"Quinn... why? Why don't you want to think that way?"
"I just... I just don't want to be... I don't want people to think that I'm... gay."
'But, honey, if you love this boy, then..."
"Annie, please." He looked at her with pleading eyes. "Annie... God, how do I explain this? I think... no... I'm not thinking anymore, Annie. I can't think anymore. I'm feeling so, so much, now. So much that I never felt before."
"Feeling what, baby?'
He sighed and put down his makeup brush. "Annie... I feel like... a different person. Like... like the Quinn I always just suddenly... went away. Like... now I'm... Annie, I was weak and useless as boy-Quinn. I'm... not... anymore. Girl-Quinn is almost... normal. Almost... right."
"I get that, baby, but... what about Ricky?"
"I'm getting there. Like I said, I feel like I'm ALMOST normal, Annie, but I'm not. I'm still..." he swallowed and almost looked like he was about to cry. "...where it counts... where it's always going to count... I'm still... boy-Quinn. Just as ugly and useless as I ever was."
"Quinn, please..."
He knew she wanted to console him, but he needed to continue. "Annie, when I'm with Ricky... I try to keep every thing... cool, you know. Like... no kissing or anything, but then... then I realize I'm staring at him and wanting to kiss him. Or I suddenly realize that I'm holding his hand and I realize that he makes me feel... complete, in a way. Just him being there with me makes everything... right."
"So... you love him, Quinn."
"But I can't, Annie. I can't. Because if I did... then I'd be..."
"You'd be someone who loves someone else, Quinn."
He shook his head. "Annie. You've never been in a junior high locker room or a barbershop. Being a... being a... a fairy is the nicest way to say it that I can think of... being... one of those... Annie, that's just about the worst thing you can be. Yeah, and I know that wearing a dress and makeup makes me a fairy, too, but... if I'm careful, no one will ever know that I'm a guy. If I let myself love Ricky, or let him love me... he'll find out, and... he'll hate me for it."
"Oh, Quinn, Quinn, no. You don't know that. You need to trust him to love you, honey. He's a nice guy, Quinn. Give him a chance."
Quinn shook his head. "If I give him a chance... I'll lose him forever."
Ann stood and walked over to him. What could she say? She couldn't guarantee that Ricky would understand. What if she forced Quinn to tell him and he reacted the Quinn expected. That would crush him. Was everybody's life this goddamned complicated or was just people with the last name of Collins? It was never easy for Quinn and, because of that, it was never easy for her, either.
She knelt down and laid her head on his soft shoulder. "Quinn... I love you, baby, and... no matter what... I am always going to love you. I'll always be your sister. You'll always be my brother or sister and whichever you are doesn't matter, but Quinn... please, please, please never forget that I'm right here for you, honey, and there is nothing, absolutely nothing that will ever happen to change that."
"I know, Annie. I know that I've messed up your life..."
"No, Quinn, you didn't..."
"Alright, but I've complicated it, anyway, and... I'm sorry. I don't mean to, I swear it. I just want... a normal life."
Ann knelt up straighter and kissed his cheek. "I don't want a normal life, Quinn. I want what we have... and maybe just a little more craziness would be fine, too. This is our life, honey. It's OUR normal. And I wouldn't trade it for the world."
"Grandpa! What are you doing here?" Ricky smiled as his grandfather entered the front door of the cell phone store where Ricky worked.
"Hey, Buddy," his grandfather smiled. "I was just wondering... umm... when do you have lunch, Rick? I thought I might take you for a nice sandwich at that place up the street, if that's ok."
Ricky looked at his watch. "Yeah, that'd be good, I guess. Let me check with Paul and Elsa and see if they're ok with me taking the first lunch. I'll be right back."
Grandpa Bill looked around at the high tech gadgets all over the counter tops and wondered how kids were able to navigate their way through these things. No buttons, no wires, no nothing. Yet they seemed to have the world at their fingertips. He was content with a phone that made calls and also could get texts and emails. Beyond that, he really didn't know how to use any other functions. Being seventy eight and having a lifetime of experience had its advantages, but when it came to technology... it was a hinderance.
"All set," Ricky smiled as he came out of the back room. "They'll cover. Let's go. I have to be back in an hour."
As they walked up the street to a café that Grandpa Bill liked, but Ricky tended to steer clear of due to the slightly high price of their sandwiches, they stopped and looked at a vintage Indian motorcycle parked on the side of the road, discussed it's mechanics, the beauty of its design, etc, and did the same when they came upon a 1963 Volkswagen Karmann Ghia that had been restored to the level of its first-made glory.
When, at last, they'd entered the café and Grandpa Bill had ordered them both a tuna melt and a Raspberry Lime Rickey, Ricky smiled at his grandfather and asked, "So?"
Bill was young for seventy eight years old. His close-cropped hair was white, but his body was strong and his eyes were clear and piercing. He sat up straight and looked at his grandson and could not believe how different this boy was from Bill's own son, Ricky's father. Ricky was smart and handsome and the hardest working kid he knew. Bill loved all of his grandchildren as if they were his own kids, but this kid was special. Really special.
"Rick... did I ever tell you about the night I first met your grandmother?"
Ok, this was an odd topic. "No, Grandpa, you didn't." In fact, his grandfather rarely spoke about anything prior to the decision for all of them to move in together. There were two pictures on his bureau, though; one of Ricky's grandmother as a young woman and another of both of them on their wedding day. Beyond that, nothing was ever said.
Bill nodded and thought. "She was something, my Joanie. I was working third shift at the time, so my schedule was all messed up. Anyway, I got off at seven in the morning and I went to a diner down near the train station to get something to eat before I went back to my little apartment and tried to get some sleep."
The older man's eyes were focused on the wall as he remembered and a smile played on his lips when he thought about that day.
"So, I was just digging into my steak and eggs when this girl walks in, and Rick... it was like my world changed at that moment. My heart wanted her... no... my heart needed her, Rick. I watched her order, wait for her egg sandwich and coffee and she was headed out the door and I hadn't said so much as hello to her. She was about to walk away forever and I didn't know who she was."
Ricky was smiling and enjoying the story. "So, what did you do?"
"I got off my ass and ran out the door after her. Now, mind you, I was filthy from just finishing a shift, but I couldn't risk NOT talking to her."
"I caught up with her outside and introduced myself as politely as I knew how, and, to my great surprise, she smiled at me, told me her name and said I could call her that night to set up a date. Man, I was flying high that whole day. Barely slept a wink. I called her that night before I left for work and we went to dinner and a movie that next Saturday night. Here's the kicker, though... she insisted that nothing could ever come of our dating. That we would never, ever be a couple."
Ricky laughed at that. "Well, that sounds familiar. Why didn't she want to be a couple."
The older man smirked. "Religion. She was Catholic and I wasn't. She said her parents would never allow us to get serious unless I converted."
"And did you?" Ricky had not been brought up in any religion.
Grandpa Bill shook his head. "I thought about it, but... it just seemed hypocritical to me. I hadn't been to church since I was a kid and I didn't have any real connection to God, so... we just dated for a few months."
"I'm going to assume, since I've seen the picture of your wedding, that you worked it out at some point."
They waited silently while the waitress placed their food on the table. When she'd gone, Bill continued. "We did. I asked Joanie to marry me four times, Rick, and she turned me down the first three. Finally, we made an agreement. She would marry me as long as she could raise any kids we had Catholic and I never made a stink about her taking them to church. I agreed and two weeks later, we were at city hall in our best clothes tying the knot."
"That's great, Grandpa," Ricky had really enjoyed hearing the story.
"That hurt her, though, Rick. I mean... her parents never let up about me not becoming Catholic and that drove a wedge between them and that hurt Joanie. Your grandma never held me responsible for that hurt, but... it was there and I was never able to fix it."
"But, Grandpa, that wasn't your fault. People need to accept others on their own terms, you know what I mean?"
His grandfather smiled. He'd made his point. "I know, Rick, and that's what I want you to understand as you move forward with courting this girl you're so enthralled with."
"I don't get it grandpa," Ricky looked very perplexed. "I am being patient."
"I know, Rick, but I was sitting on the porch last night and I was thinking about this night seven or eight years ago when I was driving home from another late shift - second shift this time. I was exhausted and only wanted to get home to our place and kiss all of you in your beds. I was almost home, when I came around a bend and traffic was at a dead stop. I had to sit there for almost an hour before we moved very slowly forward. It was a terrible accident, Rick. A tractor trailer had wandered into the right lane and pushed this little Honda up onto the concrete barrier. There was nothing left of the car. The police and EMTs were still trying to get into the car as I drove by. I saw them taking a child into an ambulance, Rick. The kid couldn't have been any older than you and some of your sisters. Right in that moment, Ricky... I found God. I wept and I prayed for that child and I have prayed every day since that you and all of your sisters be spared that kind of pain. And you have... almost."
"You think that was Quinn you saw that night?"
"I think it probably was, Buddy. I mean, I probably remember some of the news stories wrong, or maybe they were just mistaken about some facts, but I'm pretty sure that the child was named Quinn. Regardless, Rick... if you're serious about this girl... just like you said... you have to accept her on her own terms. That girl was broken, Rick, and I mean nearly broken in two. She was a broken, bloody mess and I was shocked that she lived, and Ricky, she went through things that you and I can never imagine. She must have felt unbelievable pain, pal, and she's still in pain, and she'll be in pain for the rest of her life. You're never going to heal her, Rick. You're not capable of that. No one can do that, but you can love her and make her happy, but only..." he waited for Ricky to finish.
"...if I accept her on her terms." He looked at his grandfather and nodded. "So... what? I just wait until she's ready?"
"Rick, I've watched you and I've seen how you behaved with girlfriends before, but I've never seen you as distracted by a girl as you have been this week. I don't think you're just crushing on this girl, are you? I think you're as crazy for her as I was for your grandma. So, I'm asking you, man to man... do you love her?"
Ricky looked his grandfather straight in the eye and spoke seriously. "Yeah, grandpa. I think I do." He thought a moment longer. "I do."
Bill smiled. "It sucks, doesn't it, pal? But don't worry... it's the greatest thing that'll ever happen to you, too."
Ricky smirked at the irony of that statement and shook his head. "You're pretty smart, you know, grandpa."
He smiled at the boy. "No. I'm really not, Buddy. I just know what love is and I know that it hurts almost as much as it brings joy, but without it... there's no point in anything."
"Quinn, this is Bea, you know Cathy, and that's Ellen, Fiona, Grace, Hannah, and the little one back there is Bella." Alice made the introductions beside the full sized van that she'd driven to Quinn and Ann's house in Portsmouth.
Quinn gaped at the mob who had all piled out of the van to say hello. He doubted that he'd get their names right every time, not just because there were eight of them, but because they all seemed to share nearly identical faces. Quinn knew that some of them were pairs of twins, but this was amazing. It was almost like they had been designed in a laboratory, their features were so perfectly matched, and yet - they looked almost nothing like Ricky. Each girl or young woman had Sandy brown hair, a small nose, strong chin and high forehead. They were absolute clones of one another. It was amazing and it made Quinn smile.
"Hi, everyone," he smiled as he gave a small, self conscious wave. "Nice to meet you, all. Please forgive me if it takes a few minutes for me to get to know your names. I'm not great at names."
"Don't worry," Fiona smiled. "Our teachers never know our names. My history teacher calls me Alice all the time, and Alice graduated years ago."
"The gym teacher just calls me Briggs all the time and says that she'll be glad when I graduate and she can go on with life without the Briggs Clones driving her crazy." Isabella offered. She would be the easiest to tell from her sisters due to her slightly shorter stature.
"I'm sorry that the whole battalion came with me," Alice shrugged. "My plan was to come get you and prep you before the onslaught, but they all wanted to come along and meet you. Besides, it smells so good out here on the island, with the salt air and pine trees. It kind of makes it worth the ride."
"Alright, let's get going," Cathy said, clapping her hands. "Everyone to their assigned seats. Quinn, why don't you sit behind Alice while she drives. I'll sit next to you. I hope your ready for the Briggs Inquisition."
The girls started climbing into the van, but Quinn turned to Cathy, who had already proved herself to be the coordinator of the group, and asked, "Inquisition?"
Cathy smiled. "Don't worry. We just want to get to know you. Don't be scared. We don't bite."
"Annie, you need to calm down," Barbara assured her friend. She'd been surprised to find Ann coming into her workshop mid afternoon that Monday. "Quinn is going to figure it out. He'll be fine."
"How, Barbie? How can he be fine if he hates what he is?" Ann was having a very hard time thinking about anything other than Quinn since she'd left for school that morning.
"Have you talked to his therapist?"
"I did, but she said that she's not really equipped to deal with something like this. She recommended a couple of people and I called them. One can't see him for eight weeks and the other doesn't take our insurance."
"So, did you make an appointment with the one who does accept your insurance?"
"I did," Ann nodded and as she spoke the rest of the sentence, she burst into tears in a way that Barbara had never witnessed, "but what if something happens before then, Barbie? What if he hurts himself? What if he does something worse?"
Barbara ran to hug her friend, frightened herself by the outburst of emotion. "Annie, Annie, come on. You're stressing about something that hasn't happened and probably will never happen. Take a breath, Annie. Come on."
Ann pulled away and tried to calm down, but she was feeling a sense of panic like nothing she'd ever felt before. "Barbie, what if I lose him? I can't. I just can't lose him. He's all I have, Barbie. Everyone else is gone. Without Quinn... Barbie, he's three inches from happiness and he just won't take that step, and he's a foot from disaster and I feel like that's the way he's headed. I'm so, so scared, Barbie."
"Annie..." Barbara was ill equipped for this conversation, but had no choice but to try to calm her friend down. "...just a week ago, all you wanted was for Quinn to get out and start living. Now that he is, you're falling apart about it."
"Oh, for crying out loud, Barbie. A week ago he was a boy who was entirely asexual as far as I knew. Now, he's a trans woman who is denying that he's in love with a boy because people might think that he's a fairy."
"A fairy?"
"His word, Barbie. I think he's just petrified to say the other 'F' word. Barbie, he's accepting who is on one level and completely denying who he is on another." She shook her head. "I just don't know how to help him."
Barbara smiled. "Annie... he told you all of this, right?"
"Yeah," Ann nodded as she wiped her eyes.
"Then you're helping him. Let him talk. That's what he needs."
"You know, I think you are the same size as Isabella," Alice told Quinn, trying to be helpful. It had been a fairly fun hour and a half long drive from Quinn's house to the outlet mall in south eastern Massachusetts. The trip had been a blur of conversation, mostly about clothes and boys and some funny stories about Ricky.
Quinn had mostly been able to get by with short answers about his own life. The girls were inquisitive, but not pushy. 'Where did you go to high school? I was homeschooled for high school. Why? Because I had a physical issue and couldn't get around by myself until recently.' 'Do you live with your mom and dad? No, it's just my sister and me.' 'How long have you been playing Louisa Harper at Golden Bluffs? Just a week, now. Is it fun? So much fun.' 'How did you meet Ricky? At dance class.' That lead to long stories about Ricky's involvement in dance class as a boy. The sisters loved to laugh, too, and their free spirits made Quinn laugh, too. He had a great time just being 'one or the girls.'
"Oh, look at this dress," Alice pulled a white sundress with little cherries, stems and leaves printed on it off of the rack. "Damnit. It's too small for me. Bella, come here!"
The youngest sister hustled over to see. "Isn't this pretty? It'll fit you, I think and its only seventeen dollars. You should try it on."
The youngest sister looked at it and made a face. "I don't know. It seems a bit fussy for me. White and I are not good friends. It is pretty though. What I'm really looking for is a romper to wear to Boston next weekend with my friends. Let me know if you see any."
Alice nodded. "Ok." Then she turned to Quinn and held the dress up to him. "That'll look nice on you. What do you say? You want to try it on?"
"Oh, umm..." Quinn looked at the playfully girly dress, a dress that was more casual than any he owned, and decided, "Yes. I would like to try it on."
"Cool. I have these two to try on. Let's go to the dressing rooms."
Alice informed her sisters that she was going to try some things on and Quinn was coming, too.
They had to wait a few minutes for a changing stall to open up, but when it did, Alice grabbed Quinn's hand and led him in. Alice shared her living space and her wardrobe with seven sisters and Quinn had been changing in front of other women for a week, now, so neither gave a thought to changing together, until Quinn began to remove the dress he was wearing.
"Oh," he said, sounding a bit embarrassed, "I should tell you, I have to wear a corset because of a back injury. Without it, I can't stand for more than a few minutes at a time."
"Really?" Alice chirped, happily, as she stepped out of her casual dress. "I have a couple, too. I tried to do some waist training when I was in high school, but my mother found out and had a cow, so I only wear them, now, if I want to smooth my torso out for a special dress."
Ok, that hurdle had been jumped without any problem. Maybe this would be ok, after all. He knew that his biggest secret was tucked into the gusset of his panties, so he dropped his dress and stepped out of it.
"Here," Alice held open the cherry pattern dress for Quinn to step into it. He raised it up and settled it on his shoulders, and as he reached for the zipper in the back, Alice said, "I'll get that for you."
She moved behind Quinn and began to zip it up, but stopped.
"Is everything ok?" He asked.
"Oh, umm, yeah. Sorry. The... the zipper got stuck." She pulled it all the way up. "There. Do you like it?"
Quinn swayed in the mirror, feeling the flow of the skirt, whose hemline was a good long way above his knees. "Yeah. I do. What do you think?"
She looked over his shoulder into the mirror. "I do. It's pretty. You should buy it."
"You think? I promised my sister I wouldn't go crazy spending money. I just got my first paycheck."
Alice took Quinn's hair in her hands and straightened it down his back. "Well, it's a really good price and I'm pretty sure that Ricky will like it on you... I mean... if that's important."
Quinn looked down, then turned to face Alice. "You all must hate me over this Ricky thing, huh?"
Alice raised her eyebrows and smiled. "I don't think so. It's just confusing for us. Rick is... well, he has always worn his heart on his sleeve, you know? When he came to the house after meeting you... he just couldn't stop talking about you. He's like a little boy sometimes and he gets focused on things, but this was different, Quinn. He really likes you. Like - really REALLY likes you. And to be honest, Quinn... you could do a lot worse than Ricky."
"I know." Quinn sat on the bench in the small room. "Ricky is great, but... I'm new to all of this."
"To boys?" Alice sounded surprised.
He nodded. "To boys and... adulthood, and... independence. Everything. Someday I'll tell you the whole sad story."
Alice sat next to him. "Can I ask you a question? It might be a little... personal."
Quinn nodded.
"Being new to... everything... does that have anything to do with all those scars on your back?"
He nodded again.
"We're you hurt, somehow?"
"Yeah. I was paralyzed for a long time because of a car accident. I'm sorry you saw that. I didn't think about those scars. I don't see them, so I don't know what the look like. Are they ugly."
Alice shook her head. "No. Just surprising. Do you want to talk about what happened?"
"Not really. If that's ok."
Alice put her arm around his shoulders. "That's fine."
"I think she's freaking out a bit more than you might expect because it's the first time that Quinn's gone anywhere that required a long drive since the accident," Barbara told her mother.
"And I'm sure that's stressful for her," her mother, Carolyn Jenkins, replied. "Not only that, but they'll have to go up and back on Route 295. That's probably the first time that Quinn's gone past the accident site since they cut him out of the car."
"Yeah, but Quinn was unconscious that night, mom. There's no way he'll realize that he's passing that spot."
Carolyn nodded. "Barbara... I'm not talking about Quinn. From what you have told me, I think that Annie is petrified of anything happening to Quinn. For seven years, he has been the sole focus of her life, honey. Despite her impatience with him from time to time, if something happens to that child... it would destroy Annie. I think she's scared because she's petrified that he can't get by without her and, if he can... Where does that leave her? She's in a tough spot. She's worked hard to help him get this far. Now that she's helped to create a wholly-formed human being, her work should be done, but what if he gets broken again? That would break her, too."
'I guess it's like she's more his mother than his sister, huh?'
"I think so, but she took him from child to adult in a very short time. I'd worry about her as much as I'd worry about Quinn."
They shopped and ate lunch and shopped and ate ice cream and shopped and laughed and shopped and made a TicToc video with Quinn joining the younger three sisters in a dance set to a popular song, then they shopped and laughed some more.
It was nearly eight that night when they pulled up in front of the three decker home that Grandpa Bill provided for the whole family.
"Grandpa," Cathy called into the kitchen as they entered the front door, "come meet Quinn." Then she yelled up the stairs, "Mom! MOM! Come down for a minute!"
"Oh, my," the girls' grandfather smiled as he came out into the hallway, wiping his hands on a dish towel. "So, this is the famous Quinn I've heard so much about." He extended his hand and Quinn accepted it. "I'm sorry if my hands are a bit damp. I was just doing the dishes." He smiled at the swarm of granddaughters in the hallway. "It was quiet at the table tonight; just your mom and me."
"Where's Ricky? We saw his car outside." Fiona asked.
"He came home to do his laundry. He's around somewhere. Probably up on three." He looked up the stairwell and shouted in a shockingly loud voice, "Rick! Hey, Rick! You've got company!"
"Holy cow, Bill," a woman in her late forties or early fifties made a show of covering her ears as she walked down the stairs. The thing that struck Quinn the most about the woman was how she also shared the same face as all of her daughters. "You're going to burst everyone's eardrums, shouting like that!" She stepped over Hannah and Isabella, who had taken seats on the stairs, and edged her way through the others to Quinn. "I'm the mother of this tribe," she smiled. Quinn extended his hand, but the woman smiled and threw her arms around him. "It's so nice to finally meet you. Ricky just goes on and on about you."
"I do not," Ricky laughed as he hurried down the stairs. "I didn't expect you guys to bring Quinn here."
"We figured that mom and grandpa would like to meet her," Bea smiled. Then she whispered to her younger brother, "Besides, we thought you'd like to drive her home."
"Thanks," Ricky whispered back.
"We talked you up pretty well. Now don't mess it up," she teased in a quiet reply.
He smiled and kissed her cheek. "You guys are the best."
They chatted for a few more minutes, until Ricky said, "I should probably take Quinn home before it gets too late. I have work in the morning."
They said their goodbyes and put Quinn's bags into Ricky's red car, and headed east towards Narragansett Bay.
"My God," Quinn laughed, "I'm exhausted. Your family is so..."
"Loud?" Ricky laughed.
"Joyful might be a better word, but yes, they are loud. I really like them, though."
"I'm glad."
It was quiet for a moment before Quinn said, "They really love you, you know."
He looked at her and smiled. "They're my sisters. They have to love me. You and your sister love each other, don't you?"
"Yeah, but... your sisters... they're like fans of yours or something."
It was quiet again until Quinn spoke once more.
"You know, Ricky... I feel like... there's things about me that, if you knew them... maybe you wouldn't like me any more."
Ricky's brow furrowed and he glanced at Quinn, confused. "Quinn... I'm beginning to see a pattern to our time together. Every time we're together, things start off well... they seem to go better as time passes... and then, as we start to wind things up, you suddenly say cryptic things like that."
Quinn nodded, then looked away, watching the trees pass.
Ricky cleared his throat and said in an unsteady voice, "Ok. I'm just going to put this out there for you to do whatever you want with."
Quinn returned his gaze to Ricky.
It took him a moment to organize his words, but then Ricky spoke. "I like you, Quinn. No... that's not what I mean... Quinn... I have really strong feelings for you. Like... I think... shit, why is this all so awkward to talk about." He took a deep breath. "Quinn... I love you. I truly do, but I'm only saying that because you seem to be the only one who can't see how I feel. Now, before you say anything, let me finish. So... I love you and I know that you don't feel the same way and I know that you're dealing with a lot, so... I'm willing to wait until you see that I'm a good guy."
"I know that you're a GREAT guy, Ricky. I really do, and... I have a lot of feelings about you, too, and... and I'd really like to date you..."
"Cool. Then we're dating." Ricky smiled. "See that was easy."
Quinn chuckled in spite of himself, relieved at the break in the tension.
"Come on," Ricky smiled. "Let's just say we're dating. We're together all the times, anyway. Just say it." He flashed that adorable smile. "Come on, Quinn... just say it."
As the car turned onto Quinn's street, he shook his head and laughed. "Ok. We're dating."
"See! That was easy!" Ricky pulled up in front of Quinn's house. "So... when's our next date?"
Quinn smiled at the irrepressible young man. "Ricky... I need a couple of days to get my head together, ok? I'll see you in class tomorrow, but maybe it would be best if Annie drives me to class tomorrow, ok? Maybe, in a day or two, I'll be able to tell you everything I need to say, ok? I know you've been patient, but... just give me a few more days, ok?"
Ricky put the car in park and said, "Under one condition."
"What's that?"
Instead of answering, Ricky opened his door and got out, hustling over to Quinn's door to open it. He helped him out, grabbed the bags out of the backseat and they started up the short walkway to the front door.
Quinn, who had been waiting for an answer asked once more, as they stepped up onto the front porch. "What condition?" He asked again.
Ricky turned and looked into Quinn's eyes. "Under the condition that you let me kiss you goodnight."
His first impulse was to say 'no,' but the truth was, Quinn wanted to kiss Ricky. He wanted to kiss him a lot.
"Ok," he smiled.
Ricky moved in close and very gently, very softly, very warmly pressed his lips to Quinn's, causing Quinn's belly butterflies to all start flapping their wings again. He would have been content to have stayed just like that, in Ricky's arms, their lips pressed together, forever.
When the kiss ended, both of them opened their eyes and smiled at the intimacy they'd just shared.
"Thank you," Ricky smiled, then gave Quinn one last peck on the lips. "Good night."
Quinn watched as Ricky got back into his red car, made a three point turn and drove away, before entering the house while feeling feelings that he'd never felt before.
"Thanks for driving me, Annie. I'll be out right after class ends," Quinn said as he gathered his character shoes and his purse and prepared to get out of Ann's car to go into dance class.
"I don't mind, honey," Ann smiled at him. Earlier her brother had explained to her that he'd asked Ricky for a few days off to gather his thoughts and that he planned on telling Ricky the truth before the weekend. The idea of Quinn telling Ricky the truth was a relief to Ann. It would force Quinn to face his feelings. "I've got my coffee and a few end of the school year reports to fill out, so I'll just stay right here, sip my coffee, fill in my reports and listen to some music. Go have fun."
Quinn kissed his sister's cheek. "Ok. Thanks again. Love you."
"Love you, too," Ann hollered as the door shut.
She watched Quinn walk into the studio. His pretty, blue and white dress, his long, full red hair and the way he moved all made him look like a perfectly put together young woman. There was no boy there at all. Once they got through the whole 'telling Ricky' thing, she'd have to find out what Quinn's long term intentions really were. Just ten days ago, the idea of her brother having surgery to become a woman seemed as far fetched as him having surgery to become an automobile, but now... now, she was expecting him to bring it up to her at some point and she knew that she would support his decision if that's how he wanted to live his life.
"Good evening, young lady," an older man with sparkling eyes, a big grin and a thick Irish brogue said, as he held the door to the studio open for Quinn to enter. He doffed his well worn herringbone tweed cap. "You must be new here. Liam's the name."
"How do you do," Quinn smiled as he stepped past the opened door and into the studio. "I'm Quinn. I started last week."
"You don't say." The man followed Quinn in. "I'm gone for a few days and a beautiful girl like you arrives. I bet you already have a partner, don't you? Just my luck." The man was obviously teasing, and Quinn smiled and laughed along with his harmless flirting.
When the were in the studio, both Quinn and Liam were distracted by the sound of laughter and clapping coming from the refreshments table.
"Oh, that's wonderful," Sylvia clapped, then noticed Quinn entering. "Quinn, you're wonderful! Liam come here. You must see this. It's adorable."
In the midst of all the other class members, Ricky stood holding an iPad.
"What are you looking at?" Quinn asked, rather sheepishly, as she and Liam joined the others.
Ricky smiled. "It's the TikTok video you made with my sisters. It's great."
"Oh, God, no!" Quinn laughed, looking over Ricky's shoulder to see himself in the food court at the outlets dancing to a classic Beyoncé song. "Oh, I look like an idiot."
"You look like you were having fun," Sylvia said as she playfully slapped Quinn's arm. Then she looked at the older man. "Liam! Welcome back. How was your granddaughter's graduation?"
The man smiled. "I had a splendid time, Syl, thanks. It was grand to see my family once more before I go."
"Oh, shut up, you old goat," Sylvia joked. "You're ninety three and in better shape than any of us. You'll be giving eulogies at all of our funerals."
Liam chuckled as he glanced at the iPad screen. "Well, you have some impressive moves, young lady. Do you think I might impose on you to dance with me when a foxtrot comes up tonight?"
Quinn looked at Ricky who smiled and nodded.
"I'd be honored," Quinn told the older man.
Just then, Ken, the instructor, called for everyone's attention. "Alright, everyone! Let's get things started with some Dino!" He pressed a button on his phone and Dean Martin's 'Ain't That A Kick In The Head' came through the speakers.
"Well, what do you know. A foxtrot!" Liam smiled.
"What a coincidence!" Quinn teased as he offered the older man his hand.
"Did you say your name is Quinn?"
"I did," Quinn nodded.
"That's your first name?"
"Yes."
"And what's your family name"
Quinn smiled at his inquisitiveness. "Collins."
"Well, isn't that grand? Two fine Irish names."
"Really?" Quinn had never really investigated his name. He knew that 'Quinn' was an Irish last name, but he didn't know much about 'Collins.'
"Indeed," Liam pulled Quinn into the correct foxtrot position and kept speaking. "Quinn is an ancient family name and, of course, we all know about the great Michael Collins. Perhaps you are related."
"Perhaps I am," Quinn smiled, then looked at Ricky and raised his eyebrows as if to say, 'I have no idea who Michael Collins is.'
They danced away.
Truth be told, Ricky had no knowledge of Irish history at all, so hadno idea who Michael Collins was, either, so he retreated to the chairs on the side of the room and entered 'Michael Collins Wikipedia' into the search engine.
When the site opened he read, 'Michael Collins (Irish: Mícheál Ó Coileáin) 16 October 1890 - 22 August 1922) was an Irish revolutionary, soldier, and politician who was a leading figure in the early-20th century Irish struggle for independence. He was Chairman of the Provisional Government of the Irish Free State from January 1922 until his assassination in August 1922...'
It went on from there, but Ricky felt as if that was enough information to tell Quinn so that Liam didn't think that these two young people were idiots. He looked up and caught Quinn's eye and help up the tablet and pointed at it, then mouthed very broadly, 'Mi-chael Col-lins.'
Quinn saw the Wikipedia page, realized what Ricky was mouthing, then smiled and nodded.
Ricky watched the couples dance by for a moment, then he remembered something that Quinn's sister, Ann, had said as he was leaving their house on Saturday afternoon. He thought about Ann's cryptic words for a moment, then turned his attention back to the iPad, opened a new window and typed 'Ann Collins' into the search engine. That search reaped thousands of results, none of which seemed relevant, though, so he added 'Rhode Island' to the search.
That brought up a few mentions of the correct Ann Collins - Graduated from Salve Regina College with a Bachelors Degree in Education. Graduated from Brown University with a Masters Degree in Education focusing in Special Needs and Learning Disorders. Accepted to Brown University's Doctoral Program in Educational Research focusing on Dyslexia and Autism... Definitely the right woman, but still irrelevant.
He thought for a moment, then entered 'Quinn Collins' into the search engine.
This search brought up some relevant stories. The first was from The Providence Journal and was dated seven years ago. The part of the headline visible on the search engine's page read, 'Three Family Members Dead And One In Critical Condition Following a Collision...'
Ricky looked up at Quinn dancing with Liam and judged how long remained in the song. At least a minute and a half.
He touched the story and it opened revealing the full headline, 'Three Family Members Dead And One In Critical Condition Following a Collision With A Tractor Trailer On Route 295.' Beneath the already chilling headline, there was a high definition photograph of what had once been a car, but that, at the time of the photo being taken, had become a horrifying mess of ripped and twisted metal.
Ricky felt his stomach tighten at the sight of the photo. He glanced up at Quinn and thought about what his grandfather had said about passing the accident as Quinn had been being put into an ambulance and he almost wept at the pain that Quinn had gone through. He began reading.
'Traffic came to a stand still for nearly two hours last night as emergency responders worked to free the passengers of a Honda Civic that was forced into a concrete barrier when a tractor trailer driven by Eliot Winston of Cranston crossed into the Honda's lane at approximately 10:15pm yesterday evening. Authorities stated that Mr Winston, who was operating the vehicle on an expired license, admitted to falling asleep while driving and was taken into custody at the scene. The Collins family of Portsmouth was returning from a birthday celebration at Six Flags New England. Parents Anthony and Karen Collins and their sixteen year old son, Anthony Collins Jr, were pronounced dead at the scene. A fourth passenger...'
"Ricky, could you pick up the case of water for me?" Sylvia called over to him, interrupting his reading.
Ricky looked up at Sylvia, and shook his head. "I'm sorry. What?"
"Can you give me a hand with this case of water?" Sylvia said. "Are you ok?"
Ricky put the iPad to the side and stood. "Oh... yeah... sorry." He went to help Sylvia as the song ended.
"Whew!" Quinn smiled and fanned himself. He smiled at the old man. "Thank you for the dance."
"No, no, thank you." Liam smiled and gave a shallow, but very gallant bow. "I hope we dance together again soon."
"I'm sure we will," Quinn laughed, then crossed to where he'd seen Ricky sitting.
Ricky was not there, but Quinn spotted him at the refreshment table, helping with a case of water.
Quinn did notice the iPad though and picked it up, expecting to see an article about Michael Collins, but instead saw an article he'd seen several times before.
Quinn felt as though his heart stopped as he read the article and reached the last sentence of the first paragraph.
'A fourth passenger, fourteen year old Quinn Collins, son of the deceased couple, was pulled from the wreckage using the jaws of life and transported to a nearby hospital where he is reported to be in critical condition and is not expected to live...'
It went on from there, but that was enough. All Ricky had to do was read the first paragraph and it was all over.
He'd know.
No.
If he'd called up this article, he'd already read the first paragraph.
He knew.
Ricky all ready knew, but he was just being polite because there were other people around.
Quinn considered his options and the most logical one appeared to be - leave. Leave now, as quickly and quietly as he could.
He glanced towards the refreshment table. There were a few people grabbing water and Ricky was engaged with them. Quinn moved with a forced casualness as he laid the iPad back on a chair and picked up his purse and his street shoes, then headed for the door as quickly as possible, without attracting attention.
He passed outside and made a beeline to Ann's car. His sister looked up startled as Quinn fell into the passenger seat and slammed the door shut.
"Quinn..." she began to ask, but Quinn interrupted.
"Just go, Annie. Please, just go. He knows, Annie. Please, just go. PLEASE just go. Now! PLEASE!"
Ann put her work and coffee aside and buckled her seat belt. "Are you sure? What did he say? How did he...?'
"ANNIE, PLEASE JUST GO!"
"Ok. Ok," Ann put the car in gear and pulled out.
Inside, Ken called out, "It's waltz time, ladies and gentlemen. Grab your partners."
Ricky took the plastic that had held the case of water together to the waste basket and dropped it in, then turned to find Quinn so they could waltz together, but she wasn't anywhere to be seen. He looked around the dance floor to see if Liam had hijacked her again, but Liam was chatting with a couple of dancers on the other side of the room.
He looked around once more, then walked to Sylvia and her partner and asked, "Have you seen Quinn?"
Sylvia pointed to where Quinn had been a moment earlier. "She's right over... huh... She was just there a moment ago."
'Do me a favor, will you," Ricky asked, beginning to feel a bit panicky. "Would you just check in the ladies' room and see if she's in there? I'm a little nervous that she might have gotten sick."
"Of course, honey," Sylvia smiled, trying to comfort him.
She walked to the ladies' room and called as she entered. "Quinn? Quinn? Are you in here?" She turned to Ricky who was waiting by the door and shrugged. "Sorry. She's not in here."
Ricky hustled back to where he'd last seen Quinn, the same place that he'd been looking at the iPad. That was when he noticed that Quinn's purse and other set of shoes were gone. "Shit," he whispered. "Why the heck would she have...?"
He ran out the door and looked around the parking lot. No Quinn.
He knew that Ann had driven Quinn to class and he'd seen Ann's car several times, so he looked about for it. Nothing. He ran to the street and looked up and down. About three blocks away, he saw a car that could have been Ann's turn right onto another street, but he couldn't be sure if it was her car or not.
He turned in a circle and looked everywhere. No sign of Quinn, or Ann or the car.
Finally, he clasped both hands to his temples in frustration, then yelled as loudly as he could. "Quinn! Quinn! Quinn!" but nobody responded.
To Be Continued...
On Becoming Miss Louisa Harper of New York and Newport - 6
Author:
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of New York and Newport: 6
getting more complicated as time goes on.
Author's Note: Once again, thank you for all of your very thoughtful comments. I do appreciate them. Please keep them coming, they really help.~Clara
This version of On Becoming Miss Louisa Harper of New York and Newport: 6 has been updated with many corrections towards spelling and grammar.~Sephrena.
Image Credit: Image created through the use of ai at https://perchance.org/beautiful-people .~Sephrena.
Chapter 6
From 'The Autobiography of Miss Louisa Harper of New York and Newport'
~ "The day of Miranda's wedding was cloudy and overcast, so perhaps Aunt Ada had been correct. Perhaps God would not waste a beautiful day on a wedding that would lead to a loveless marriage. Instead of using the vast tents that had been erected on the lawns at Golden Bluffs, everything was moved into our grand ballroom, which was large, but could not accommodate everyone who'd been invited. So, tables were also moved into the large entry area of the estate. The higher up on the social strata you were, the closer to the head table you sat. Poor relations and acquaintances who were beneath a certain social rank made do in the foyer. Their food was just as good, but they missed out on some of the music and dance.
Miss Edith and her husband, Theodore Roosevelt, chose to not dine in the ballroom, but rather spend time with, what he jokingly referred to as 'The Hoi Polloi' in the foyer. Truth be known, Mr Roosevelt's blustery personality and huge belly laugh tended to resonate better with the less cultured than the grotesquely wealthy, anyway. His politics did as well."
Miranda did look exquisite, though, even if her demeanor remained as grey and cheerless as the weather outside. She followed me and her other attendants into the ballroom where a beautiful arch of roses, originally meant to be set up in the tents outside, had been placed. She dutifully took her vows, repeating the words that the Pastor of First Presbyterian Church, the newest and grandest church on the island, read. Father had donated the funds for the beautiful, rose shaped, stained glass window, and had always stated that he'd done so just so the window would be a beautiful prop at his daughters' weddings, but even Father realized that Miriam's nuptials were far too secular to be held in a scared space.
The entire event was as beautiful as a fairy tail, yet as emotional as a bank transaction.
As Father and Mother were presenting the 'Happy Couple' with a present of a very handsome yacht, Aunt Ada leaned over and whispered in my ear, "The greatest gift I could offer your sister is a small vial of cyanid to mix into her husband's gravy."
As much as I was typically amused by Aunt Ada's humor, I did feel that this remark was a bit too much. "That's a terrible thing to say," I whispered back. "I'm sure that, once they settle in, they shall find some measure of happiness together."
Langdon, who could not possibly have heard Aunt Ada's remarks, leaned into my other ear and whispered, "I have never seen a more dour bride nor groom in my life. I am sure that this is a mistake."
Indeed, it was, but a necessary one if Miranda was to live out her days in comfort without the stigma of spinsterhood. My heart broke for my sister, but when I looked at Langdon, it soared with joy at the happiness I was sure laid ahead for us."
"What, exactly, did Ricky say to you?" Ann asked as she turned off of the road that ran past the dance studio and headed to the first of the two bridges she'd have to cross to get back home.
"He didn't say anything," Quinn sniffled and fumed from the passenger seat.
"Then how do you know that he figured out that you're a boy?"
"I saw it on his iPad."
Ann was perplexed. "His iPad told him you were a boy?"
Quinn grew angry. "No, Annie! He had his iPad with him and after I danced with someone else, I saw his it. It was opened to a story about the accident, Annie!"
Annie's heart sank. She'd given him the hint to look at that article, but she'd hoped that he'd read it and then talk to Quinn so that all of this might be worked out. Instead, this was becoming more and more like some horrible Greek tragedy. "So... what did he say when he read the article?"
"I didn't wait to find out. I ran out as quickly as I could."
"Then... you don't know if he even read it."
"Of course he read it, Annie. It's right there at the start of the article. It says that their SON, Quinn Collins, was in critical condition and was not expected to live."
"Yeah, but maybe he hadn't even read that..."
"Annie! Please! It's in like the fifth sentence. If he opened the story, he's at least read that far."
Just then, Quinn's phone rang.
Ann looked at her brother who was looking at the phone. "Is that Ricky?"
Quinn pushed the button to silence the ringing and nodded.
"Aren't you going to talk to him?"
Quinn shook his head. "No. That's all over, now. I can never talk to him again."
"Quinn, you might be over reacting..."
The phone rang again and again Quinn silenced it, then said, "Annie, what would you do if you found someone that you really, really liked, but you had to keep a huge secret from him - A REALLY HUGE secret. Something that would completely change how he looked at you from then on - Then, just when you're trying to figure out how to tell him everything, he suddenly found out? Would you just hang around and wait for his reaction?"
The phone rang again, causing Quinn to scream irrationally at it. "STOP! STOP! JUST STOP!"
Ann pulled to side of the road and snatched the phone from Quinn. She pressed the button on the side of it, shutting it off. "Alright, now, just take a breath and calm down. You're out of control."
"Out of control!? Annie, my whole world just fell apart! I had really strong feelings for Ricky and..."
"Then why did you lie to him!" Ann interrupted, almost angrily.
Quinn was shocked into a quieter voice. "Annie... you know why I didn't tell him everything..."
"No, no, no, Quinn. You lied to that boy. Even if you never said it in words, you told him that you were a girl in a thousand different ways and he believed you. Not only that, I think he loved you."
His face was blank as he stared at his sister. "I... I... couldn't just... it would have hurt him too much..."
"Oh, so despite the fact that you had ample opportunities to tell him the truth long before his feelings for you developed, you were only sparing HIS feelings by lying to him. And you were only thinking of HIS feelings when you let him drive all the way to Portsmouth every night. And you were only thinking of HIS feelings when you let him kiss you. And you were only thinking of HIS feelings when you met his enormous family and let them get to like you, too. My God, Quinn, now I see it! You were acting like freaking Mother Theresa, caring for everyone else's feelings while you suffered the horrors of being loved."
"Annie... I..."
"You're not a child anymore, Quinn. You're an adult and an adult, whether he's a man or she's a woman, has adult responsibilities and responsibility number one is treat people with respect. Did you treat Ricky with respect, Quinn?"
He looked straight out the windshield and thought for a moment. "I... I think I did. I tried to be nice when I was with him..."
Ann sat back in her seat and sighed. "Quinn... you know I love you to death, but you have to be a grownup about this. You know that Ricky was falling for you, right?"
He nodded.
"And every minute that you were with him, he treated you like you were a princess, right?"
He nodded again.
"Did he ever once, to your knowledge, lie to you?"
He shook his head and wiped a tear from his eye.
"And yet, you showed him nothing but contempt by lying to him every second of every minute you spent with him."
"I didn't mean to, Annie," Quinn croaked as he tried to breath through sobs. "I just... I just wanted so badly to be... his princess."
Ann felt horrible for having said everything that had burst out of her mouth in the last few minutes, but it was all true and it needed saying. Now, repair work needed to be done. "Maybe you still can be, Quinn. Why don't we go back..."
"No," he shook his head vehemently. "No. Not tonight. Annie... I... I wouldn't know what to say. Please. Let's just go home. Maybe I'll call him in the morning or something, but... I just couldn't face him tonight. I'm too ashamed."
Ann hoped that he meant he was ashamed of the lying and not of finding his true self, but she felt like she'd beaten up on him enough. "Quinn... the boy loves you. Don't play with his feelings for too long. It's not just deceitful, honey... it's mean. Now, I know you as well as you know yourself, Quinn, and we both know that you're not a mean person."
He nodded. "Thanks, Annie. Can we just go home now and get some rest? I feel like I might get sick if we keep talking about this."
Ann squeezed his hand. "Ok, baby. Just take a breath and stay calm. I'll take you home."
As they drove through the evening twilight, Ann wondered if she'd pushed him too hard. She wanted to be supportive, but Goddamnit, she wasn't just his sister and his friend - she was his mother and his father, too, and sometimes mothers and fathers had to wake their kids up to certain realities. She just hoped that Quinn was strong enough to face them.
"Well, where could she have gone?" When Ricky hadn't returned, Sylvia had come out to the parking lot to be sure he and Quinn were ok.
"I don't know, Syl," Ricky said in a distracted tone. "One minute she was there and the next she was gone."
Sylvia looked around, worried as well. "Did you say something to her that might have upset her?"
Rickey shook his head. "I wasn't even talking to her. She danced with Liam. I was helping you with the water and then... she just wasn't there any more."
"Is her car gone?"
"She doesn't drive. Her sister drove her and her car isn't here, but I don't know if she was waiting or not. I've called Quinn's phone like six times and left messages, but no one's picking up." He looked around once more. "I'm calling the police."
Quinn raised the phone to call nine one one, but Sylvia stopped him. "Ricky, the police aren't going to come running because a full grown woman has been gone for ten minutes. She'd have to be missing for a day or more before they responded."
Ricky let out a few more hollers. "Quinn! Quinn! Quinn!" But no answer came.
"Ricky, come on back inside. If she's still around here, she'll be back. If she went home, then you'll find out what happen when she wants to talk to you." Sylvia put her arm around Ricky's back and tried to guide him towards the studio, but he stopped and thought for a moment.
"What's your phone number?" He asked.
She recited her number to him. "Why?"
He dialed the number and let it connect, then disconnected. "I just called you, so my number will show up on your missed calls. I'm going to go see if she went home. If she comes back here, call me, ok?"
"Ricky..." she tried to stop him, but he was already running for his car.
"Call me!" He called back as he jumped in and started the engine.
Barbara looked at her phone when the text tone chimed. 'THE S*** HAS HIT THE FAN. ON OUR WAY HOME. NEED YOUR HELP. CAN YOU COME OVER.'
Barbara grimaced and groaned. 'OF COURSE. I'LL WATCH FOR YOUR CAR.'
'THANKS. WE'RE JUST HITTING THE ISLAND NOW. BE HOME IN 30.'
"Hey, pal," Bill said into his phone. "Shouldn't you be in dance class right now?"
"Grandpa, Quinn disappeared. I don't know what to do."
Bill had never heard Ricky this agitated before and he found it concerning. "Rick, are you driving? Pull over, Buddy. You're too wound up to talk and drive."
'I can't, Grandpa. I have to get to Portsmouth..."
"Dennis Francis Briggs, you pull that car over NOW and we will continue this conversation when that vehicle is in park." Bill was not about to lose his grandson to high emotions and speed.
Ricky was shocked to hear his grandfather use his full legal name. That almost never happened. "Yes, sir," he said, soberly and he pulled to the side of the road and put the car in park. "I'm parked now, grandpa."
"Good man. Now, tell me what happened."
Ricky took a calming breath. "Ok... So, class started great. You know Liam, that guy in his nineties that comes to class, well, Liam and Quinn danced the first dance. I was sitting on the side of the room and then I helped with opening a couple of cases of water. The dance ended and Quinn walked to where I had been seated and then, when the next dance started, she was gone. I can't find her anywhere. I've called her phone and it goes straight to voicemail. I don't know where she is or if she's alright. I'm really worried, grandpa."
"Ok," Bill said, calmly. "So, what's your plan? Go to her house and confront her? Rick... if she ran out and she's not returning your calls, then she's upset. I can tell by the sound of your voice that you're upset, too. So, how do you expect this all to play out? You show up and she's at home... she's already upset about something, you're already upset about her running out... What's going to happen?"
Ricky didn't know how to respond. "I don't know, grandpa. I guess... we talk?"
"Rick..." the old man chose his words carefully. "... we talked about this. That girl has been through more than you can imagine. She's only been out in the adult world for a few months. She's bound to have a bad day, now and again. Something happened to trigger her, pal. Let her get over it. Why don't you come back here and we'll talk it out. Ok? Let Quinn get past whatever it was that set her off."
Suddenly, something occurred to Ricky. "Grandpa, I think I might know what upset her."
"What's that, pal?"
"Well, I had my iPad with me and, while she was dancing with Liam, I... I looked up the newspaper story about the accident that killed her parents and brother. I might have left the iPad open to that story. Maybe she saw it."
His grandfather waited a moment before asking, "Did you read the article?"
"No," Ricky was speaking quietly. "I read the first few sentences, but... there was a picture, grandpa. It was worse than you described. The headline said that Quinn wasn't expected to survive. That's what set her off, isn't it grandpa. She must have seen the picture."
"Maybe," his grandfather spoke very calmingly. "Rick... come home. We'll talk."
The young man thought for a few moments. "I will, grandpa, but first I have to at least swing past her house to be sure that Annie got her home ok."
"Rick..." his grandfather was being calm, but firm. "... you are in no state to driving around Aquidneck peeking into windows. Turn around and come home."
Ricky thought for a moment. "I'm sorry, grandpa, but I just need to be sure she's ok. I won't even get out of the car. I'll just swing by, then I'll come back home."
Bill let out a heavy sigh. "Look, Rick. I have a friend up in Portsmouth. I'll ask him to check on Ann and Quinn. You just sit tight where you are and I'll call my friend. Just stay put for about half an hour and I'll call you back. But please... promise me you'll sit tight until I call you back."
"Ok, grandpa," Ricky finally agreed. "I'm going to go about a mile up the road from here and pull into the Dunkin' Donuts parking lot. I'll wait there."
"Thank you, Rick. I'll call you back."
Bill disconnected the call and looked up the name of an old fishing Buddy. He pressed the contact's name and listened as the phones connected.
"Hello?" Came from the other end.
"Hey, Chief. This is Bill Briggs. I know it's been awhile, but I wonder if I might impose on you for a favor."
"Bill! Long time, no see! Sure, pal. What do you need?"
Barbara was waiting and when she saw Ann's car come down the street, she hurried out the door and over to the Collins' house to offer any support she could.
Ann pulled into the driveway and Barbara reached Quinn's door in time to open it for him. "Oh, Quinny, what happened, honey," she said with a great deal of sympathy, but sounding a bit like a babysitter speaking to a toddler who'd scraped his knee.
Quinn accepted the hugs and sympathy, but only shrugged in answer to the question.
"Come on in the house, honey. We'll talk in there." Barbara put her arm around Quinn's shoulders and had him rest his head on her shoulder as they followed Ann to the door.
Once the door was unlocked and they were inside, Barbara said, "Sit on the couch, Quinny. I'll get you some tea."
"No, that's ok," Quinn said, sadly. "I think I'd like to just take a shower, if that's ok."
"Ok," Barbara smiled. "I'll help you out of your corset." They went upstairs, but Barbara looked at Ann and said, "I'll come down when he's in the shower."
Ann nodded as she dropped her purse onto the hall table. What a rotten night and she felt as if she was responsible for the whole thing. She never should have told Ricky to Google Quinn's name. She knew it would lead him to that article, but she'd hoped that cooler heads would prevail. What had Ricky even thought when he read about the fourteen year old boy who'd been pulled from that terrible wreck. Ann hadn't even been there that night and that godawful photo made her nauseated every time she saw it. She couldn't imagine what the last few minutes of her parents' lives had been like, let alone poor Tony. This was the seminal moment of the remainder of her life. The moment that drew a distinct line between what life was meant to be and what it was always going to be. The fear of pain and loss and empathy for her family churned her stomach whenever she thought of that night and the overwhelming weight of survivor's guilt always buried her for days after thinking of the crash. She should have been with them. Yes, she had work to do, but it had been Tony's sixteenth birthday. A better person would have gone with them and maybe, had she'd gone, they may have left Six Flags New England just twenty seconds later, so that when that truck came into the right lane, her family might have been a few seconds behind the truck instead of beside it.
It didn't matter - it was all her fault. If she'd gone with them, they'd all still be alive.
And this was all her fault, too. She should have just kept her mouth shut. Now...
She poured a glass of wine for both her and Barbara, who was coming down the stairs.
"He's not saying much," Barbara said as she entered the kitchen. "So, what happened?"
Ann was about to answer when blue flashing lights appeared outside her front door. "What the hell is happening, now?" She grunted as someone knocked on the door."
From 'The Autobiography of Miss Louisa Harper of New York and Newport'
~ "Mr Theodore and Mrs Edith Roosevelt sat at a table with General William Tecumsah Sherman and his wife, Hugh J. Grant, Mayor of New York City and the youngest man ever to hold that post, and his wife, Charles F. McClean, Police Commissioner for New York City and his wife, and US Senator for the State of New York Senator Chauncey Depew and his wife. All of these men were key players in the Lincoln Republican Party and much of the conversation at that table on that afternoon would surely impact the people of New York City in the days, weeks and months to follow.
Miss Edith caught me as I was making the rounds of tables, being the hostess-in-training, a post Mother had created for me, I was told that I needed to speak to every table, but Miss Edith grabbed my arm and invited me to sit with them for a bit. Truth be told, I needed a break and sitting at this illustrious a table would please Mother.
Father was only as political as his business demanded, but he was not a huge fan of the reform minded Republicans of New York City. He found them difficult to buy and could not understand their reluctance to take his money. A man only worked for money, after all. 'You can't trust a man who pretends to be above money, Langdon,' I'd heard him say to my fiancée more than once. Lanny would smile and nod, but I knew that he supported all of these men.
I took my seat between Miss Edith and General Sherman and I must admit that being in the presence of the great general did make me a bit lightheaded. He was an old man, but he was still a formidable visage with his receding hairline, pockmarked face and thin beard. He was still the man in the photographs from The Civil War. The man who marched his men from The Mississippi River to Savannah, ending the war.
"Thank you for inviting me into your home, Miss Harper," the general said. "I am honored to be present at the wedding of your beautiful sister."
"The honor is all ours, general," I smiled as engagingly as I knew how. I had assumed that the conversation would remain civil and polite, and I was shocked to my core when I was asked a question that I never expected to be asked on such a festive occasion.
"So, tell me, Miss Harper," Mr Roosevelt said to me, "what is your opinion of the condition of our public orphanages and workhouses in the city?"
"Oh, Teddy," Miss Edith looked as shocked as I felt. "This is not appropriate conversation for a young woman or for this kind of festivity."
"Nonsense," her husband replied. "Miss Harper and I had long discussions when last we visited. I think Mayor Grant and Senator Depew would like to hear her opinions."
It was true, Mr Roosevelt and I had discussed a number of issues previously, but always in private. This kind of a public conversation was a very different matter and if Father should hear that I discussed public policies with men, even Aunt Ada would not be able to save me from his ire.
Still, my opinion had been requested and I did have an opinion to give, so I gave it.
"Well, to be honest, gentlemen, I feel that the current state of public facilities for all of the less fortunate is appalling. In this land of plenty, it seems absurd that anyone should be deprived life's most basic needs. Clean water, healthy food, medical services, education - these are things that we of privilege take for granted, but is not just unavailable, but flatly denied to those less fortunate. I believe it in incumbent on us to insure that all of our citizens have access to all of those services."
The Mayor and the Senator smiled and nodded. "So, tell me, Miss Harper," Senator Depew smirked, "how do you feel that you could contribute to rectifying some of these conditions?"
I blinked at him as a fire was suddenly lit in my chest. At that moment I knew that I would be dedicating my life to helping the poor and downtrodden of my country. "That is an intriguing question, Senator, and one for which I do not currently have answer, but I assure you, an answer will be forthcoming as I research this matter further. Gentlemen, may I call upon each of you once I have formed a proper answer. I do believe that I can do some good if I set my mind to it."
Each man assured me that they would make themselves available to me should I call on them and I returned to my hostess duties with a new sense of purpose in my life."
The patrolman was young, certainly not yet thirty, and quite tall. When Ann opened the door, she found herself looking directly into the man's chest.
"Yes?" Ann asked, looking up at his chin.
The officer checked his note pad. "Oh, good evening, ma'am. I apologize for interrupting your evening, but I was asked to swing by and do a wellness check on..." he checked his note pad again, "Quinn Collins. Is Miss Collins here, ma'am?"
Ann sighed. "Yes, she is, but she is currently showering. Who asked you to check on her?"
He checked his pad again. "Umm... a Mister William "Bill" Briggs, ma'am. Apparently, Miss Harper has been missing from a dance class for an hour or so and a lot of people are concerned."
"Bill Briggs?" Ann mulled than for a moment. "Oh, Bill! Ricky's grandfather. Look, Officer, my sister had a rough night and I drove her home earlier than expected. She's... well, she's been through a lot and today turned out to be a tougher day than usual. I'm sorry, I should have let the people in the class know I took her home. Thank you for checking up on her."
"Well, if you don't mind, ma'am, I sort of need to see your sister and be sure she's ok. I'll be in my car. I'll knock again in a half an hour or so and, hopefully, by then she should be out of the shower."
"What?" Ann was frustrated. "You need to see her? That's absurd!"
Barbara had been listening from down the hall. "Annie, it's fine. Officer, I'll come knock on your window when Quinny is downstairs and you can talk to her, then."
"Thank you, ma'am," he said and was turning to go when something occurred to him. He turned back and said, "Annie? Annie Collins?"
Ann was in the process of closing the front door, but she stopped. "Yes."
Suddenly, the officer's stern façade melted to a smile. "Annie Collins." He shook his head. "I'm John Tomlinson. From Salve Regina. You tutored me in English when we were freshmen. Remember?"
It took Ann a moment to remember him. She'd tutored a number of people as part of her work study program at Salve Regina. Then she remember the awkward nineteen year old version of the man in front of her. In her memory, John Tomlinson was a tall, thin boy with feet too big for his body. He moved like a Great Dane puppy, still trying to figure out how his extremities worked.
"Oh...? John? Oh, my goodness. I never would have recognized you. How are you?"
"I'm doing good, I guess." He smiled. "Oops. I forgot who I'm talking to. I'm doing WELL, I guess."
"That's wonderful," Ann smiled, then couldn't help but tease a little. "And it's 'to whom I am speaking,' not 'talking to.'"
The Officer laughed. "Yep. You're right... oops, correct." He smiled at Ann and she could see he wanted to say more, but that wasn't the reason for his visit. "Well... it was great to see you, Annie. I'll be in the car when Quinn is available."
"Don't be silly," Barbara suddenly burst back into the conversation. She pushed the door open and grabbed the officer's arm. "Come on in and have a cup of coffee with us."
Ricky's anxiety level was off the charts. He'd been waiting in the Dunkin Donuts parking lot for nearly an hour with no word from his grandfather or Quinn. He'd wait ten more minutes and then, if he hadn't heard from anyone, he was going to go up to Portsmouth anyway.
Then, not only did his phone ring, but the caller ID said, 'Quinn.' Quickly, he pressed the 'accept' button.
"Quinn? Are you ok?"
The voice on the other end spoke quietly, "Ricky, it's Annie. I'm just using Quinn's phone because I don't have your number."
"Annie? Where's Quinn? Is she ok? Why did she run out like that?"
"She's fine," Ann tried to assure the young man, "she was just upset that you'd read the article about the accident. She figured you'd be mad at her, so she just ran out."
"She thought I'd be...? Why would I be mad?"
Ann was a bit confused by that. "So... you haven't read the article?"
"Just the beginning. I saw the picture and almost got sick. I read that your mom and dad and brother all died at the scene and that Quinn wasn't expected to live. That's about all." It was at that point that he realized that he'd left his ipad at the studio. "To be honest, I really don't think I could get through the whole article. It was too upsetting. I don't know how you got through it so well."
So well? Was he kidding? Seven years of guilt, seven years of crying with no warning, seven years waking up screaming, seven years of... of Quinn. It had been a waking nightmare for her, but for Quinn... it was so much more for Quinn. They hadn't 'gotten through' anything. They were just barely surviving.
But that wasn't Ricky's fault. The issue at hand was that Ricky hadn't read enough of the article to know that Quinn was a boy. It was still possible for Quinn to deal with this in a mature manner.
"Look, Ricky... you have to understand that Quinn's life changed really drastically that night and now... well... she's only taken a few steps into adulthood so far. You're her first real crush and... I think we're all expecting more from Quinn than Quinn is capable of giving just yet. Please... give her a few days, like she asked. Let her explain things to you her own way. Ok?"
Ricky sighed, disappointed that he couldn't see Quinn for a few days, but oddly excited that Ann had said that he was Quinn's first crush. That meant that she did have feelings for him and that was a good thing. "Ok. Thank you for calling me. I appreciate that. Can you tell Quinn... well... tell her I'm sorry that I upset her. Ok?"
Ann smiled at that. The boy had done nothing wrong, but was still apologizing for upsetting Quinn.
"Ok, Ricky. Look, I have to go. Quinn was taking a shower, but I can hear her moving around upstairs, now. Thanks for understanding. Bye bye."
"Bye," Ricky whispered, then despaired at the sound of the call disconnecting.
After a moment, he called his grandfather's phone.
"Rick?" The older man seemed cautious. "Is everything alright?"
"Yeah, grandpa. I'm ok. I just wanted to tell you that I spoke to Annie and Quinn is ok. It's kind of a long story, I'll tell you about another time. I'm headed back to my place near campus. I'll talk to you tomorrow."
"Rick," Grandpa Bill suddenly sounded old to Ricky, "can you do an old man a favor?"
"Sure, grandpa. What?"
"Buddy... can you please come here tonight instead of going back to the college?"
He sighed at that. He really just wanted to be alone. "Is it important to you, grandpa?"
"It is, Buddy. I really need to see you, tonight. To know that you're ok and... Rick... maybe not tonight, but, tomorrow, after you've had some rest... we need to have a long talk."
This was not like Grandpa Bill at all. In fact, this tone was freaking Ricky out just a bit. He wasn't sick or something, was he? Ricky couldn't handle Grandpa Bill being sick right now. "Ok, Grandpa. I'll be there in about a half hour."
"Thanks, Rick. Drive safely and remember... I love you, pal."
"Yeah, grandpa. I love you, too."
Officer Tomlinson spoke into the microphone mounted on his left shoulder. "I just finished that safety check on Quinn Collins. She's ok. She's at home with her sister. Just had a rough night. Sounds like a little PTSD due to a bad accident a while ago."
"Copy, Officer. Thank you. I will notify the chief."
"Thanks," he said, released the microphone and stood straight on the porch. "Well, it was great to get caught up," he smiled at Ann. "I'll meet you at The White Horse Tavern around three tomorrow, then?"
Ann smiled. "Around three. See you then."
She closed the door as he got back into his car.
"Quinny is in bed and seems ok. I think he's pretty tired. He's probably asleep already," Barbara said as she came down the stairs. She smiled at Ann as Ann closed the front door. "Well, look at you, Miss Collins. Dating the boy she tutored all those years ago."
"Very funny," Ann smirked, "but I'm just going to have a drink with him. It's not a date."
"Oh, dear God," Barbara laughed, "you're as bad as Quinn. Of course it's a date. So, what are you wearing?"
Ann shook her head, amused by her friend's enthusiasm. "I don't know, Barbie. It's the last day of school, so the kids have a field day. I was planning on wearing a pair of shorts and a tee shirt to school, so I'll probably wear that. The White Horse is a pretty casual place..."
"Oh, like hell you'll be wearing shorts and a tee shirt," Barbara interrupted, with a maternal tone. "Before I leave, I'm picking out a nice dress for you. You can take ten minutes to get changed and fix your hair and makeup before you go to have a drink."
Ann shook her head and smirked at her friend. "Ok, I'll wear something nicer, but nothing too fancy. Ok?"
"Ok," Barbara relented and followed Ann into the kitchen.
"So, Quinn seemed ok when he went to bed?" Ann asked.
Barbara nodded. "You know, Annie, when I first put Quinn into a dress last week, I never expected things to go this far."
"I know. I've been thinking about Quinn a lot and honestly, I never saw this coming, but... maybe I'm not as surprised as I should be. I mean... Quinn has always been... may not girlish, but... not boyish, if that makes sense."
Barbara nodded. "So... have you taken a look at Quinn when he's not wearing a corset, lately?"
Ann placed the dirty cups into the sink. "No. Why?"
Barbara bit her lip for a moment before speaking. "The corset training... well, you know, he's had been wearing a corset twenty four seven, which is something I never anticipated, but... the corset training is... working."
"Meaning what?"
"Meaning... his torso is more hour glass shaped than before and... well... those little breasts he gets in one of Louisa's corsets...? well, the corsets he wears MOST of this time, the ones with cups... well, they kind of train the breasts as well as the torso, so..."
"He's developing breasts?"
Barbara nodded.
Ann shrugged, "Well... I guess we'll just have to wait and see if that's a problem or an asset. Quinn and I have a lot to talk about this week."
"Morning, Rick," Grandpa Bill greeted Ricky as he came down stairs to the kitchen. Their three decker home had been modified before they moved in, in order to make the house more useful for them. The only kitchen now was on the first floor where Grandpa Bill's bedroom was. There was also a large family room on that level. So, at every mealtime, everyone had to come down to see Grandpa Bill.
"Hi, Ricky," Isabella smiled, as she stood up from the table and went to the sink to rinse out her cereal bowl.
"Hi, Grandpa," Ricky said, then he kissed the top of his youngest sister's head. "Morning, Bella. Last day of school?"
"Yeah," she giggled. "Just six more hours till freedom. Next year I'll be a senior!"
Ricky grabbed a glass from the dish strainer next to the sink, then pulled a jug of orange juice from the refrigerator. "And then college! You're nearly an adult."
"Yeah, so are you," she teased. She grabbed her backpack and kissed her grandfather's cheek. "Bye grandpa."
"Bye, sweetie."
"Will you be here when I get home, Ricky?"
Her brother smiled and shrugged. "Maybe, Belle. I don't know."
She looked at him more closely, then kissed his cheek. "Cheer up, Ricky. You look more handsome when you smile."
That made Ricky laugh. "Have a great last day, squirt."
When Isabella had exited out the front door, Ricky looked at his grandfather. "So, what's going on, grandpa?'
Bill looked at the contents of his coffee cup before answering. "Rick... you really had me worried last night. You sounded a little... unhinged... on the phone. I just wanted you to come here so I knew you were ok."
Ricky sipped his orange juice. "Ok. I'm sorry if I made you worry, grandpa, but... that big hug when I got here and then you said we needed to talk... I'm going to ask you this point blank, grandpa... Are you sick or something?"
The old man broke a smile and shook his head. "No, Buddy... I'm as healthy as a horse. I want to talk to you about you."
"And Quinn," Ricky interjected.
"And Quinn," Bill nodded.
Ricky sat back and folded his arms. "A special lunch the other day and now a special conversation... Grandpa, Alice is engaged. Cathy and Steve have been dating for years. I don't think that you've ever had a single conversation with them about their relationships. What is it about my relationship with Quinn that concerns you so much?"
Bill drained his mug and pushed it aside. "Rick... you're my only grandson. Hell, you're more my son than your dad ever was. I look at you and I see so much promise, so much potential... I just want you to be happy, pal."
"So...? At lunch you said you understood my feelings towards Quinn. Now, what? Now, you don't think it's a good idea for me to follow my heart?"
A small, sad smile crossed Bill's face. "Rick... Being with Quinn is going to be complicated."
"Yeah, just like it was for you and grandma. We've already talked about this."
"No, Rick. Not like that at all. Yes, Quinn has been broken and put back together and that is going to be very hard to overcome, but... Rick... last night, when you were so upset, I called an old friend, who also happens to be the Chief of Police over in Portsmouth. I asked him for some help and he sent a car by Ann and Quinn's house and did a wellness check."
"You sent the police to Quinn's house? Grandpa, that must have freaked them out!"
"I don't think so, Rick. In fact, I spoke to Ann this morning and I offered and apology and she was fine with the whole thing. She knew I'd done it to keep you safe. That's not really the point, though."
Ricky shook his head. "I wish you hadn't called him, grandpa."
"Then I'm sorry, pal, but there's more." Bill rubbed his face with both hands and considered his words. "Rick... that night, seven years ago... when I saw that poor child being pulled from that wreckage... that was the most horrendous thing I've ever seen in my life. The image of that poor baby has haunted me ever since. I'll be watching TV or doing yard work... just day to day things, you know? And suddenly, I will see the EMTs laying that poor child on that stretcher. Rick... Quinn didn't look hurt. Quinn looked dead. I couldn't believe that any child could survive that kind of injury."
Ricky nodded. "I saw a picture of it last night. It was on the Providence Journal site. Actually, that's what upset Quinn. Why she ran out of class."
Grandpa Bill nodded. "But you didn't read the article?"
"Just a little. It was more than I could take, actually."
Bill nodded. "Do you remember that I said that maybe I remembered something's about that night wrong or maybe I read something that might have been incorrect in one of the newspapers?"
"Yeah, I do. Why?"
Ricky watched his grandfather look around the room before he spoke. "Rick. When I talked to the chief, I checked the facts of that night with him, and..." he just couldn't find the words.
"And what, grandpa?"
"Rick..." this was the hardest conversation Bill had ever had. "Rick... we love who we love. We can't always control that. We love who we love who we love. That's how we're made. You get that, right?"
Ricky stood, started to say something, but couldn't turn his thoughts into words, and so headed to the kitchen door.
"Where are you going?" Bill asked.
"Grandpa... if you're going to tell me anything that might make me think less of Quinn, then I just don't want to hear it. Ok? I'm sorry, but... no thank you."
"Rick, please sit down. You need to hear this."
"No, grandpa. Quinn will tell me what she wants me to know when she wants to tell me."
"Rick...'
"Grandpa, I love you, but..." Ricky looked at the man who'd raised him and who had always treated him better than anyone else in the world and for the first time, his grandfather looked old and worried. "I'm sorry, grandpa, but... I have to go." The silence in the room was uncomfortable to both of them. "You do understand, don't you grandpa?"
His grandfather nodded. "I do, Rick. You're a good guy." Bill stood and stretched out his arms. "Give an old man a hug."
Ricky complied and even accepted his grandfather's kiss on his temple.
Then Bill held the boy by the shoulders and looked at him with nothing but love on his face. "I read a quote this morning, Rick, and it made me think of your Grandma Joanie, and that made me think of you and how you feel about Quinn. I'm not sure who said it, but it goes, 'I saw you were perfect and so I loved you. Then I saw that you were not perfect and so I loved you even more.' Remember that quote, pal. Ok?"
"Ok, grandpa... ok."
"Yes, I wear a corset every day," Quinn explained to a fourteen year old girl while he was in his Louisa persona. "It is, after all, the style of my day." He was wearing one of his favorite day dresses - a soft blue dress with a white, lace top.
"Is it uncomfortable?" Another young teen girl asked.
"Not really," he smiled. "It is constricting, but you get used to it very quickly."
"How many dresses so you own?" A different girl asked.
Quinn smiled. "It's a little embarrassing, but I actually have about two hundred dresses in my closet. Mother is very adamant that I am never seen in the same dress twice if it can be avoided. That does make it necessary to own a lot of dresses."
"Did you ever love anyone other than Langdon?" An older voice asked from the back.
Quinn looked to see who was speaking and, for a moment, froze when he saw Ricky's sisters Ellen and Fiona smiling at him. Quinn felt a bit of a chill run down his back. Had Ricky told them what he'd read in the paper? Did they know he was a boy? No. They were smiling too broadly. They didn't know.
"No. I never did love anyone other than Langdon, but I did not love him at first. It took a little time to get to know him, but once I did know him... I loved him."
"And did he love you as much as you loved him?" Fiona asked.
Quinn smiled. "No. No, I think that Langdon actually loved me a lot more than I loved him, and that wasn't easy, because I loved him with all my heart."
There was the predictable sound of girls and women sighing after that statement.
"I'm afraid we need to leave Miss Louisa, now," the maid/tour guide explained. "Please follow me."
The crowd followed the guide and Quinn said goodbye to everyone as they passed. Fiona and Ellen were the last two guests to pass by him.
"Thank you, Louisa," Fiona smiled and shook Quinn's hand.
"Thank you, Fiona. Please come again," Quinn said, taking the risk of acknowledging that he knew Fiona, which made the young woman smile.
He turned to Ellen and offered his hand to her as well. "And thank you for coming as well, Ellen."
Ellen smiled at the familiarity Quinn showed and shook his hand, too, but when she released her grip, a note remained behind in Quinn's hand."
He waited until the room was empty, knowing he had about four minutes before the next group arrived, before reading the note. 'HI, QUINN. YOU LOOK AMAZING! WE'LL BE AT THE CREAMERY AT SIX AND WE'D LOVE TO HAVE YOU JOIN US FOR SUPPER. OUR TREAT. HOPE TO SEE YOU THERE. LOVE, SISTERS FOUR AND FIVE.'
"Have a great summer!" Ann called to a colleague
"You too, Annie!" The portly man called back. "See you at the end of August!"
Ann was carrying a pretty big load to her car, not just because she was leaving the building for eight weeks, which meant taking a few extra things beyond her briefcase with her laptop, but because Barbara had convinced her to dress well for her 'get-together' with John at The White Horse Tavern. That meant that she had changed into the very pretty green dress she had brought with her and so, now she was carrying her briefcase on her shoulder, a box of classroom things she might need at home, a garment bag containing her shorts and top she'd worn for the kids' field day, her sneakers and a small tote bag that held her curling iron and makeup.
"Here. Let me help you with that," voice came from someone who was rushing up beside her to help.
"Oh, thank you," Ann laughed as she turned, expecting to see a colleague, but instead seeing a face from her personal life. "Ricky? What are you doing here?"
Ricky took nearly everything Ann was carrying into his arms and smiled. "I'm sorry, Annie, but I really need to talk to you and I don't have your number. Can I talk to you for just five minutes, please?"
Ann let out a slightly exasperated sigh. She really wanted to get to The White Horse. She hadn't been out with a guy since about three months before the accident and she hadn't had a serious relationship since her senior year of under-grad school. She checked her watch. "Ok, but I only have about five minutes. I'm really sorry, but I have to meet someone soon." She opened the hatchback of her Prius.
"Yeah, that's fine." He placed the items he was holding into the rear of the car. "Annie... I just need you to tell Quinn that I'm sorry that I opened that article. When I saw the photo of the crash scene, I was nearly sick. I should have been sensitive enough of Quinn's feelings to have closed it before she saw it."
Ann couldn't help but feel bad for this poor kid. "Ricky... I'm sure that Quinn is freaked out by the photo, I mean, God knows I am, but..."
"Annie," Ricky interrupted, "how did you get through all that? I mean, my God, I couldn't imagine how terrible it would be to lose anyone so... violently. My mom, my grandpa, my sisters.. anyone. You must be the strongest person I've ever met."
Ann raised her eyebrows as she considered that. "See... that's the thing, Ricky. I never got over it and neither did Quinn. To be honest, if I live to be a hundred, I still expect that I will be waking up in the middle of the night because I had another nightmare about the crash."
Ricky nodded, sure that he understood why Quinn had run out of the class the previous night. "Ok. Can you just tell her that I'm sorry, then, and ask her to please... please... talk to me. I probably shouldn't say this, but I'm really scared that I'm never going to see her again. And it's all because I left that stupid picture on my iPad."
The young man started to walk away, but Ann called him back. She took out a pen, ripped a Post-it Note off of a pad in the box in her car and wrote on it. "Here. This is my number. I don't know if I'll be able to offer any help at all, but... well, at least you don't have to drive all the way up here talk to me."
"Thanks," Ricky said, with a small smile as he took the piece of paper.
As he walked away, again, Ann called, "Did you read the article, yet?"
He turned and shook his head. "No. I don't think I ever will."
Goddamnit, why the hell was Quinn making this kid suffer like this? "Ricky... just read the article."
He shook his head again. "You know, I am really confused by you and your friend Barbara and even my grandfather. You all seem to know something horrible about Quinn that you seem to think will make me feel differently about her."
Ann went a bit pale. "Your grandfather knows?"
Ricky shrugged. "I guess so, because he tried to tell me something this morning and acted all weird when I didn't want to hear it." He was going to walk away, but had to say a bit more. "What the heck could be so bad? I mean, she's not a crack dealer or something, right?"
"No," Ann rolled her eyes. "Ricky, for six of the past seven years, Quinn has either been in traction recovering from a surgery, or in traction preparing for the next surgery. For the last year... you have no idea how hard Quinn worked to be able to walk again. It was constant PT and exercising for the last twelve or thirteen months. That doesn't leave much time for drug dealing. There are some things you should know, though."
He nodded and his lips pressed together. "I'll find all that out when Quinn tells me. Until then... I don't want to know." He opened the door to his car, got in and drove away.
"You came!" Fiona nearly bounced off the booth bench at the sight of Quinn. "Here. Sit by me."
"Hi," Quinn smiled nervously. He was wearing a yellow dress with a white flower print that he'd bought on his trip to the outlet center with Ricky's sisters. "Umm... this is my friend Barbara. Do you mind if she joins us? I can't drive, so Barbara drove me."
"No, no," Barbara tried to be diplomatic. "I'll just sit at the bar and have a little something for dinner."
"Don't be silly," Ellen smiled and tapped the open part of the bench next to her. "Join us."
Barbara sat, a bit self consciously, not really wanting to be part of Quinn's 'date with the sisters.' "Thanks."
"Hey! Quinn! How are you?" Ricky's friend, Joe, waved from the grill. He came over to the side of the table and smiled. "I guess my cooking was so good that you couldn't stay away, right?"
Quinn smiled. "Hi, Joe. Good to see you, again."
"Girls night out, huh?" He smiled, then realized that he recognized Ellen and Fiona. "Oh, shoot! It's sisters three and four, right?"
Ellen pointed at herself and then her sister. "Four and five."
Joe made a show of counting on his fingers "A, B, C, Rick is really Dennis, so he's D, so you guys are E and F. Don't tell me, let me get it. Ellen and Fiona, right?"
"Hey, not bad," Ellen smiled.
"So... what can I get you ladies, this evening?"
"How about cheeseburgers with fries and a chocolate shakes for all of us," Barbara said. "My treat."
Ellen and Fiona were both about to object, but Barbara held up her hand to stop them. "I remember what being in college was like. I'll cover this. It's my treat."
The sisters looked at each other and shrugged, then looked at Quinn who just smiled, knowing that Barbara enjoyed being generous. "Ok," Ellen said to Joe.
Joe leaned down and asked in a hushed voice. "Regular shakes or 'Awful Awfuls'?"
Quinn looked at the other three who all seemed to know what Joe was talking about. "What's an Awful Awful?"
Joe's jaw dropped dramatically. "You've never had an Awful Awful!? It's a Newport Creamery specialty. 'Awful big. Awful good.' It's made with more ice cream than a regular shake, so it's thicker. Want to try one?"
"Of course she does," Barbara smiled. "Four burgers with fries and chocolate Awful Awfuls."
Joe gave a big thumbs up. "Four Creamery Specials coming up."
"God, he's gorgeous," Ellen muttered as Joe walked away.
Fiona rolled her eyes at Quinn and Barbara. "She's a little boy-crazy. She falls in love with pretty much every friend Ricky ever brings home."
Ellen turned and looked at her sister with narrowed eyes. "That may be true, but that is one fine man, right there." Then her jovial attitude returned. "Quinn, you were just great as Louisa. We go to Golden Bluffs a couple of times every summer and have a nice lunch in the restaurant and you're the best Louisa we ever saw."
Before Quinn could thank her, Fiona said, "And you wear Louisa's clothes so naturally. Oh, they are so beautiful!"
Quinn giggled at her enthusiasm. "Well, thank you for coming and I'm glad you enjoyed it, but the clothes are entirely Barbara's doing. She makes them all and she made them fit me and taught me how to wear them correctly."
"Shut... the... door...." Fiona said dramatically, looking at Barbara with awe. "You made all of Louisa's clothes?"
"I did," Barbara smiled, obviously proud of her work's impact on this girl.
"Fi sews a little," Ellen explained. "She's getting really good, actually. She made the dress she's wearing today."
"I was looking at that," Barbara smiled. "You do good work, Fiona."
"Thanks," she beamed. "My mom taught me."
"Four Awful Awfuls," Joe interrupted, placing the milkshakes on the table. "And a straw and long spoon for each of you."
"These are massive!" Quinn looked at the huge plastic cups. "We're supposed to consume these AND a full meal?"
Joe laughed and before walking away teased. "You need to get out more, Quinn. We've been serving these for fifty years."
Ellen saw an opportunity to change the subject. "So, Quinn... did you and Ricky have a fight or something? I don't want to pry, or anything..."
"Yes, she does," Fiona cut her off. "We both do, in fact, but tell us it's none of our business, if you want to."
"I'm NOT trying to be nosy," Ellen insisted, "it's just... well... obviously, we LOVE Ricky and we want him to be happy, but in the short time we've spent with you, we really like you, too and... well, you get it, right? We'd really like for all of us to be one, big, happy family."
Quinn, who had been trying to figure out how to get any of his drink to go up his straw without the straw collapsing against the thickness of the milkshake, was taken aback by the question. "Wha... what did Ricky tell you?"
"Well, nothing, and that's the problem," Ellen shook her head, frustrated. "He was just really upset last night and this morning, our grandpa made us all wait upstairs until he'd had a talk with Ricky. All except Bell, of course, because she had to get on the school bus. Anyway, we only over heard a little of it..."
"There's an old heating exchange in the floor between the first and second floors, so we usually listen there, but grandpa kept his voice down. Probably knew we were eavesdropping."
Ellen gave her sister that narrow eyed look again. "Anyway... when Ricky left, he was still upset. He told grandpa that whatever it was that grandpa wanted to tell Ricky, Ricky only wanted to hear it from you."
"He only wanted to hear it from me?" Quinn seemed astonished. Soooo.... Did this mean that Ricky DIDN'T know he was a guy?
"That's what he said," Fiona confirmed.
Quinn felt a wave of heat wash over him. He thought that Ricky knew - how could he not? It was right there in the article! He needed a minute alone to think. "Ummm... I need a minute. I'll be right back." He stood and looked around to find the ladies' room and spotted it at the rear of the restaurant.
"I'll come with you..." Barbara offered, but Quinn shook his head.
"No. I need a minute by myself. I'll be right back." He hurried away.
"Well done, Elle," Fiona shook her head at her sister "I told you it was none of our business."
"Shut up, Fi," Ellen spat as she watched Quinn disappear through the ladies' room door. She looked at Barbara and asked, "is she really mad at me, do you think?"
Barbara had been watching Quinn's departure as well. "Girls, Quinn's been through a lot, with the accident and all..."
Fiona interrupted. "Accident? What accident?"
Now it was Barbara's turn to look shocked. "Quinn didn't tell you about the last seven years?"
"Just that she was home schooled through high school because of some health issues." Ellen said, looking to where Quinn had gone. "Why? Was she hurt in an accident or something?"
Barbara let out a heavy sigh. "Look, never tell Quinn that I told you this, but without knowing about the accident, you'll never understand why Quinn seems... twitchy."
From 'The Autobiography of Miss Louisa Harper of New York and Newport'
~ "In many ways, being a tomboy by nature made it easier for me to embrace my developing womanhood. Yes, I missed the freedoms of my 'boyhood,' but I also understood how boys and men reacted to women more clearly than did many of my more 'well brought up' peers. The Vanderbilt girls, for example, had never known a day without whale bone, satin bows and Irish lace. The same was true of the Astor girls. This tended to make my fellow females snobbish and inconsiderate of the feelings of others. I don't know why, but I could never achieve the kind of indifference towards the people around me that most of my class did. My relationships with my parents' friends were always cordial and polite, but my relationships with the household staff was always more friendly and relaxed.
As the afternoon turned into evening and Miranda and her newlywed husband departed for their honeymoon on the yacht that my parents had provided as a present, the weather cleared and the sun came out, making the day far more cheery than it had been when we'd been in the presence of 'the happy couple.'
"I will wager a dollar to a doughnut that the clouds will follow those two south to the Jersey shore," Aunt Ada teased as we waved from the dock, and I had no reason to argue that point with her.
When they'd heaved off, Langdon and I walked along the lawns and cliffs of Golden Bluffs and enjoyed a bit of quiet time, together. Quiet time had been difficult to come by during the recent days at my parents estate and we were grateful.
At the far end of the lawn, there was a comfortable bench that overlooked Narragansett Bay and provided a secretive location for the two of us.
The sun was just starting to set as we sat and took each other's hands.
"May I tell you a secret?" Langdon asked.
Any intrigue was fascinating to me, so of course I wanted to hear what he had to say. "Of course."
"Throughout today's festivities, I began thinking about you and me. Now, I am aware that our betrothal was something that was thrust upon you, and the more I think about it, the more concerned I am that, perhaps, you may want to rethink your options. If that is the case, Louisa, I would understand, but I do want you to know that, since our first meeting with our parents, I have grown much more than fond of you. I do believe that I have fallen in love, in fact, and that is the reason I am sharing my secret concerns with you."
I was in shock at Langdon's words.
"I don't understand," I stuttered. "Are you breaking off our engagement... because you love me?"
He smiled and squeezed my hand in his. "No, my love." He took a deep breath and looked at the water he seemed to love so well. "I heard Mr Roosevelt and Mr Grant speaking to you before and I heard your replies to their questions about social reforms. Louisa... most women of our sphere spend their lives denying the problems of the world outside of Newport or even a block away from Fifth Avenue, but you are different. You do not deny your intellect and that is something that great men, men like Roosevelt and Grant, can see. That is why they asked your opinion. It would be a crime to stifle that mind of yours in any way, Louisa. Should we marry, I warn you, you shall never be allowed to sully that mind of yours with mere household concerns. No, my love, if you become my wife, then I will expect you to be far more than just the administrator of my household."
"I am still confused," I confessed. "What would you have me do instead."
"You must change the world for the better, my love. You must use your stature, your wealth and your wiles to make this world a better place for everyone. Is that something you can do?"
My eyes must have been wide with wonder at the words of my fiancée. He was offering me a key to the gilded cage I'd been living in, but with the proviso that once that key is used, I must then enter the world of men and do all I could to make them become rational creatures. This was no mean chore he was suggesting. This was a challenge of epic proportions that far exceeded my half-formed plans for my future. I would be a new Odysseus in a world of modern monsters.
I should have found the proposal daunting and considered the consequences of my answer, but as I stated, my childhood was far more of a boyhood than it should have been and it left me longing for challenges and adventures. I smiled and said, "I can, Langdon, and with your help, I shall."
He smiled and stood, then kneeled before me. He produced a lovely little opal ring from his pocket, then slide it onto the little finger of my left hand before saying, "In that case... will you, Louisa Harper, do me the honor of not just becoming my wife, but becoming an equal share in the life that we will face together?"
I could no longer remain socially proper. I threw my arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. "I will, Lanny. With all my heart, I will."
At that moment, I heard Mother's voice coming from much closer than I expected. "Louisa!" She shouted. "What is wrong with you? Have some sense of propriety!"
I was horrified that my mother had witnessed my break in protocol, but Langdon stood, helped me stand as well, then turned me so that I faced my mother. With his arms around my waist, he quite calmly stated, "Mother Harper, Louisa and I have entered into a pact together and from this point onward, I would appreciate it if you would no longer think of her as a child. She is now my wife-to-be and I ask that you treat her with all the dignity and respect which you have always offered to me."
I was uncertain if Mother would remain upright after hearing those words, but my life at Golden Bluffs was drastically altered from that moment on and I was no longer considered 'just a girl' by anyone."
Wednesday evening had been awkward for Ricky. Without Quinn in class, he felt as if he was the object of far too much sympathy. It did occur to him, however, that this was just a small taste of the kind of pity that Quinn so wanted to avoid.
He stayed for the full class because it would have been impolite to have left, but he'd already decided that he was not returning on Thursday unless Quinn came as well.
"I'm going to tell him," Quinn told Ann on Thursday morning before he left for work.
It was Ann's first day of summer vacation and she had come downstairs in the silk shorts and tank top she'd worn as pajamas and was sipping a cup of coffee on the back porch. "I think that's a good thing to do, Quinn," she nodded. "I know it won't be easy, but it needs to be done and its best if it comes from you."
Quinn nodded. He knew she was right. "I'm going to ask him to meet me at the bakery where we went after class that first time."
"When?"
"I was thinking about doing it tonight at around six, if that's ok."
Ann smirked and thought for a moment. After all these years, she'd finally had the opportunity to have a casual get together with a nice, handsome guy. Everything had gone great at The White Horse Tavern the previous night - so well, in fact that when John had asked her out again the following night, Ann had readily accepted, hoping against hope that the following night might be drama free. But... she should have known. Oh, well... better to have Quinn to mess things up than to not have Quinn at all.
Just then, Barbara called from the hallway. "Hey! Where are you guys?"
"Out here!" Ann shouted back.
"Oh, hi," Barbara smiled. "What's going on here? It looks like a funeral."
Ann chuckled. "No. Quinn wants to go meet Ricky tonight to tell him the truth."
Barbara patted Quinn's shoulder. "That's good, Quinny. So... why the long faces?"
"No big deal," Ann smiled. "It's just... well... John and I kind of hit it off last night and he asked me out to dinner tonight. I'll just reschedule, though."
"Why?" Barbara seemed to actually not understand. "I don't have anything to do. I'll drive Quinny."
"Barbie," Ann shook her head. "We keep imposing on you. It has to stop. I'll take him."
"Like hell you will," Barbara put her arm around Quinn's shoulders. "If you think for one second that I will stand by and let you mess up a nice evening with a drop dead gorgeous guy, you've got another thing coming. Besides... I know that you don't think of me this way, but when I think about my family... that includes you two."
Both Quinn and Ann smiled.
"So..." Barbara nodded. "I'll take Quinny. You go have fun with Officer John."
"All dressed up?" Grandpa Bill asked as Ricky bounded down the stairs. "What's the occasion?"
"I'm meeting Quinn. She wants to talk."
"Ahh. That explains the emergency load of laundry, huh?"
Ricky laughed.
"Listen, Buddy... stay calm, ok? You need to be patient with Quinn. If anything goes sideways... remember that we're here for you."
"Geez Louise, you look amazing!" John Tomlinson smiled as Ann approached him in the bar at the tavern. "Thanks for coming out again. I know it's a school night..."
"No, it's not," Ann smiled. "I am officially on vacation."
"Awesome!" The big man smiled. "How about we get some dinner and see what happens from there? Maybe we'll go wild and stay put past nine thirty."
Ann laughed. "Sounds good."
"Hi," Ricky said sheepishly as Quinn joined him at his table at the bakery. "You... umm... you look nice... as usual."
Quinn's worried face broke into a smile for just a moment before realizing that he was there for a serious conversation. "Thanks. You look nice too... as usual."
There was an uncomfortable feeling between them that had never existed before and neither of them liked it.
Ricky tried to make things less awkward by filling the void with talking. "Quinn... Quinn... I have only dated a few girls and... well... I never meant to mess this up. I can't even explain why I opened that article. I never should have. I wasn't even looking for that. I was actually looking up Annie and this..."
"Annie?" Quinn was confused. "Why were you looking up my sister on the Internet?"
Ricky shook his head. "Never mind why... it was just something she said. Anyway... all I saw was a few stories about her academic achievements and then this story about your accident came up. Quinn, I... I was just curious and... Quinn... I'm just so sorry that I intruded into that part of your life. I swear - I will never do anything like that again. Can we just move on from here?"
Quinn sigh and wanted to cry. He would have loved to have just moved on and put all of this behind them, but... that wasn't possible. There were things that needed to be done.
"Ricky..." he took a big breath and mustered what little courage he could find. "... the article was... well, I guess I was surprised and... that picture... it's pretty hard for me to see."
"No, I get that..." Ricky began, but Quinn held up his hand in a 'stop' signal.
"Ricky... I have a lot to say and I'm not sure how to say it, so..." he looked away and blinked a few tears away. "Ricky, I really, really like you. Like... like I've never liked anyone before, but I haven't been... honest..."
Ricky wanted to speak, but since Quinn had asked him not to, he remained quiet and waited.
"The very first moment I saw you... when you walked into dance class... my heart actually skipped a beat, Ricky. I mean... you know how things have been for me, right? So, I never even thought about dating or..." He huffed and swallowed some emotion. "Ricky... after that crash... I didn't think I had a future. To me, the future was preparing for the next doctor to come into my room and shake his head - trying to not cry at the pain from the last surgery or the physical therapy - or just trying to take one more step. I had never considered that I'd ever... fall in love... like I did the second I first saw you."
"You love me?" Ricky asked, in spite of himself.
A tear rolled down Quinn's cheek and he gave a desperate nod. "But I shouldn't, Ricky. I have no right to."
"Quinn, I know you've been through hell and back, but everybody has a right to find love."
"Not me," Quinn looked at the table top. Finally, he looked up at Ricky. "Can I see your phone?"
A bit surprised by the sudden shift in the conversation, it took Ricky a moment to grab his phone, unlock it and hand it across the table. Quinn took it, opened a search engine and typed in 'Collins Accident Rhode Island.' He opened the same article that Ricky had opened on his iPad a few nights earlier, and passed it back to him.
Ricky saw the photo on the screen and put the phone aside. "Quinn... I already said I'm sorry..."
"Read it," Quinn interrupted, more harshly than he'd intended. Then, more gently, he said, "Please... please read it."
Ricky picked up the phone and scrolled quickly past the horrific photograph and began reading. Very quickly, he looked up at Quinn, who looked away. Ricky returned to reading until he finished the article. Then he set the phone aside and looked at Quinn.
"They made a mistake, right? I mean... Quinn is a boy’s name as well as a girl’s... they just messed up in the article, right?"
Quinn stared at nothing on the floor and shook his head.
Ricky could not look away from the woman he loved. This wasn’t possible. Look at her, for crying out loud. She was everything a woman should be.
"Quinn... why didn’t you just tell..."
"I thought you were gay. I thought that, maybe I was, too, and that..." There was no way to hold back the tears and emotion any more. "I thought that... that... I don’t even know what I thought, Ricky, I just wanted..." Tears were rolling freely down Quinn’s soft cheeks. "Ricky, I am so, so, sorry..."
Ricky was numb with shock. This had to be a bad dream. Things like this only happened in movies – in bad movies. This couldn’t be real. He knew he needed to do something. To say something. To fix something. But he was frozen. In shock. In disbelief. "Quinn..." he muttered, but nothing else came out.
Quinn waited for him to say something, to do something – anything – but Ricky just stared at him with a look of confusion. Or was it hatred? Quinn couldn’t tell, but his own already broken heart was about to stop beating if he just sat there. So, he mustered what little strength he still had and stood. His tear stained cheeks and flooded eyes and quivering lip drew the attention of several of the other patrons, making the whole ordeal so much worse. He just needed to retreat to the safety of Barbara’s car, now. "Goodbye, Ricky. I’m so, so sorry." He turned and half-walked-half-ran out the door, leaving Ricky still and lost in despair at the table.
He picked up the phone and looked at the words in the article. ‘Boy,’ ‘son,’ ‘brother’... Then he realizes that his own cheeks were as wet as Quinn’s had been. He wiped them and looked around the room at the people who were suddenly looking away from him. He didn’t have the strength to be embarrassed or even care. He was drained and lost. Completely, absolutely, totally, irrevocably... lost.
To Be Continued...
On Becoming Miss Louisa Harper of New York and Newport - 7
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of New York and Newport: 7
Each has their own struggles as they try to figure out what is best for themselves.
Author's Note: Thank you, as always, for all of your reviews and comments, both positive and negative. I truly do appreciate them.~Clara
This version of On Becoming Miss Louisa Harper of New York and Newport: 7 has been updated with many corrections towards spelling and grammar.~Sephrena.
Image Credit: Image created through the use of ai at https://perchance.org/beautiful-people .~Sephrena.
Chapter 7
From 'The Autobiography of Miss Louisa Harper of New York and Newport'
~ "Exactly one week after Miranda and her husband sailed away from the dock at Golden Bluffs, she was back at the estate, living in the same room she'd lived in every summer her life. One might have thought that this may have raised the eyebrows of our appearance conscious neighbors, for the most part, it went unnoticed. Everyone knew that Miranda’s new husband was a man of business who rarely, if ever, indulged in leisure time. So, Miranda’s position as his wife, with no obligations to children, would have allowed her the opportunity to spend time at her family’s estate. Beyond that, though, the fact that Miranda’s was a marriage of convenience was not a secret to anyone in our social circle.
As long as I could remember, my relationship with Miranda had not been so much one of ‘sisterly affection’ as it had been one of ‘sibling intolerance.’ I knew that Miranda thought very little of me and I had grown comfortable with that. So, I was very surprised to find Miranda seeking me out one day while I breakfasted on the southern veranda. Mother was in The City for a day or two and Father had left early to meet with Mr Astor on a business matter. It was just the two of us and a breathtaking view of Narragansett Bay.
Without any preamble, Miranda took a pastry and a cup of tea from the buffet table and sat at the round breakfast table with me. I had had my morning repast at this table nearly every summer day for several years, but never once had Miranda chosen to join me, let alone engage me in conversation.
We nodded to each other and looked at the waters in silence for a minute or two before Miranda spoke in a low voice. "He has a lover."
Confused, I turned and looked at my sister, who looked frighteningly sad, suddenly. "Who? Father?"
"Don’t be daft," Miranda spat. It was nearly inconceivable that father would have a lover. He was. Of course, dedicated to Mother, but his long term relationship had always been with his business. "My husband. He has a lover."
I had no idea what the proper response to this statement should be. At fifteen years old, I lacked the social skills of an adult and was only peripherally aware of the intrigues of adult infidelities. So, I responded in the only manner I could imagine to be appropriate. "Oh, Miranda... How terrible for you."
She sipped her tea and rolled her eyes. "I don’t know if it is or it isn’t, Louisa. At least he didn’t try to touch me. I had been dreading that and I am grateful to have been spared that much at least."
Of course, I understood what Miranda meant, but I’d never engaged in a conversation surrounding such matters before. Still, if Miranda had suddenly seen me as an equal, I was not about to miss out on the opportunity to be a sister for the first time. "He didn’t flaunt his mistress at you, did he?"
Miranda sighed and shook her head. "I wish it was that simple. A mistress would be almost an acceptable complication, but if the identity of his lover were to become known, it would lead to social ruin for both he and me."
This vague statement confused me a bit. "Why?" Then the only possible reason for such consequences occurred to me. "Is she another man’s wife?"
Seeing my confusion, Miranda seemed to feel it best if she not delve into specifics. "No. It is complicated, though." She then looked at me with an unusual sense of sorority. "You have become quite a young woman, Louisa. You are more beautiful and far more intelligent than I have ever been. I am happy that you have found Langdon. He is a good man. You will do well with him."
"Thank you, Miranda," I smiled, quite pleased that my sister had found a reason to compliment me in any way. "Lanny is a wonderful man."
"And he loves you, Louisa. That is important. So, much more important than I knew. Do you love him?"
I smiled. "I do. He surprises me, you know. Not with gifts, but with himself. He is a wonder."
Miranda took my hand in hers, a gesture of intimacy far exceeding any she’d ever displayed before, and she spoke to me with an urgency that shocked me. "Never let that go, Louisa. Hold onto love through any trials that you may face. Love is so much more important than wealth, or security, or position. If you love Langdon... never... never... never let him go."
"What did he say?" Barbara asked as she pulled out onto the street.
I think he thought it was a joke, or a mistake, or something." Quinn wiped a sheet of tears from his face. "He said it couldn’t be true."
"Did he get angry?"
"Not yet, but I’m sure he will be soon, once he gets past the shock." He punched his hand into the door panel. "Arrrr! This all would have been so much easier if I’d just..." He let it hang there, afraid to say anything more.
"If you’d just what?" Barbara asked, feeling a pang of guilt. "If you’d just said no when I asked you to be Louisa, right? Oh, Quinn, I’m so sorry. I never meant for things to go this far..."
"If I’d just been born a girl" he shouted louder than he’d intended. "This all would have been so much easier if I’d just been born a girl."
Barbara drove in silence for a few moments considering what she should say. "You... don’t want to be a boy anymore?"
He sniffled and wiped his cheeks, yet again. "I never WANTED to be a boy in the first place. I just was. I never thought about it... but then I got to be a girl."
Barbara glanced at him. "And now you want to be a girl? Full time, I mean?"
He shook his head. "Now I AM a girl full time."
"And you prefer being a girl?"
He nodded.
"So... what now?"
"I don’t know." He sniffled. "I really don’t know."
Ricky was rereading the article, trying desperately to find a mistake. There’s no way that those words could be true. There’s no way that Quinn could be anything other than a girl. He’d seen her. He’d held her. He’d smelled her perfume. He’d kissed her. She just HAD to be a girl.
He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he barely noticed that someone had taken the seat opposite him.
"Tough night, buddy?" The person asked in a very low voice.
Ricky looked up and blinked. "Grandpa? What are you doing here?"
The old man’s smile was very sympathetic. "Well, pal, I’d love to tell you that it’s just a coincidence, but when you told me you were meeting Quinn here to talk... well... I suspected that you were going to have a tough evening. I’m here to take you home."
Ricky nodded. "You know, at some point you’re going to have to let me grow up, grandpa."
"Well, at some point, I will, but for now... I’m here to drive you home so that you don’t get hurt."
"Yeah, but I have my car with me and..."
"And Cathy and Fi are visiting friends down the street. I gave them your spare set of keys. They’ll drive your car home for you."
Ricky looked at his grandfather and thought. "Grandpa... were you always this concerned about us driving when we are upset or is that something that happened after you saw the Collins’ family’s car that night?"
"Hard to tell, pal," the old man shrugged. "None of you drove back then, but... when any of you go out, I sit in my Lazy Boy and wait until I hear you come home before I call it a night. Now, maybe that’s just because I love you, but maybe it’s because I saw a family destroyed one night. Who knows."
Ricky nodded and stood. "I need to pay my bill."
"I already did. Come on. Let’s go home."
As they crossed the parking lot, Ricky asked, "That was what you wanted to tell me in the kitchen, right?"
"No, Rick, that was the last thing in the world I ever WANTED to tell you... I just felt that I had to."
Ricky shook his head. "Of all the people to fall for... I have to fall for a sissy who was out pretending to be a girl."
Grandpa Bill stopped and looked at Ricky. "Dennis Francis, I have never been ashamed to be your grandfather until that moment. How dare you say something so hateful about a girl who has gone through so much."
"Oh, come on, grandpa! She’s not even a she! She’s a guy in a dress."
"Is this what they teach you at that college of yours? Huh? I thought you wanted to be a psychologist or a councilor. That you wanted to help people."
"Well, yeah, I do but..."
"Well, does that involve using hateful language? Quinn’s not a sissy, Dennis, she’s a girl who is struggling to be who she’s meant to be and you should be the first person to understand that?"
"Me? Why me?"
"Because you said you loved her."
"Yeah. I loved HER, grandpa. Not HIM."
"There is no HIM, Dennis. There is just Quinn. Quinn Collins may well have been born male, but she is a young woman now."
"You mean... she’s been... you know... altered."
His grandfather stared at Ricky. "I can’t believe I’m hearing what I’m hearing, Dennis. Get in the car before someone else hears you."
"What?" Ricky was flabbergasted. He opened the door to his grandfather’s BMW and sat, confused. "Why are you mad at me, grandpa?"
Bill pushed the ‘start’ button and shook his head. "I guess I just expected more from you, Rick."
"So, I’m working full time as a Phys Ed teacher at the middle school over in Jamestown and I am a part time cop up in Portsmouth. It keeps me busy – probably a little too busy, really, but it pays the bills! I’m finishing up my Masters Degree this summer, too, so I’ll move another column over on the pay scale and I can probably stop doing the police job in the fall." John Tomlinson smiled as he took a sip of his Sam Adams IPA.
"That’s awesome, John." Ann was really enjoying herself. John was a surprisingly funny and bright. She remembered him as a quiet kid who’s interests didn’t extend far beyond sports. Now, he seemed to be able to talk about anything. Books, television shows, politics, art, music... he had well formed opinions on all of them, but he was also open to discussion on all subjects as well. She took one last bite of her ‘crispy duck breast’ entrée and dabbed her lips with a napkin. "Oh, my God, this is delicious!" She said a bit louder than necessary. She laughed at herself. "Sorry. I haven’t really been out for a nice meal in a long, long time."
John chuckled at her happiness. "Really? I would have thought that you had a pretty active social life. You were pretty popular in college."
She raised her eyebrows. "Yeah, well, that was before the accident. I had a personal life back then."
"Oh, yeah, of course," John nodded. "Sorry. That must have been rough."
"Well, sure. Of course it was rough, but... I don’t want to sound like I’m complaining. I’m really grateful to still have Quinn. It was just... overwhelming, I guess."
"Sure," he smiled. "I’m sorry I brought it up."
"Oh, don’t be silly," Ann shook her head. "It’s part of who I am, you know? If I didn’t talk about IT, then I’d have nothing to talk about at all."
He nodded. "Hey, umm... while we’re on the subject of the accident and all, then... and please, just tell me to mind my own business if I’m out of line, but... Quinn.."
"What about Quinn?" Ann asked.
John sighed, sorry to have brought up the subject, but needing to ask. "Well, it’s just that... I remember reading about the accident when it happened. I mean... I knew you and I knew it was your family and I really felt bad about it, so I followed the story while they ran it, but... Quinn was a boy then, right?"
Ann suddenly felt uncomfortable. "Does that really matter to you?"
John let out a nervous laugh. "No, not at all. I only ask because... see... I have an older brother, Shane, and Shane used to be my sister, Sarah. So, I saw what Shane went through and I know it can be hard for everyone involved – even siblings. I’m just asking because... well... if you ever need to talk about it... I’ve been there."
Ann blinked and processed what she’d just heard. "Wow," she whispered.
"What’s the matter?" John asked.
"Nothing’s the matter, it’s just... To be honest... it never really occurred to me that anyone else ever went through this but Quinn and me. Well, see, even that sounds selfish. It’s Quinn that’s going through it, not me."
"What? Are you kidding?" John laughed. "Annie, if Quinn’s a part of your life, then you’re going through it, too. It’s a lot to deal with. Geez, I mean, with Shane... I was scared to death that he might do something wrong along the way, you know, take a wrong turn and not find his way back – or through – or whatever. You get it though, right? Quinn’s your flesh and blood, just like Shane is mine. When someone you love is in pain, then so are you. Like I said - it’s a lot to deal with."
"It sure is," Annie smiled. "When did your brother transition?"
"About twelve years ago," John said, obviously very comfortable talking about the situation. "Not that it was a huge surprise. Sarah was never comfortable as a girl, I knew that. Still, when the announcement came, it all seemed very sudden."
Ann nodded.
John asked, "So, when did Quinn start transitioning?"
Ann thought for a moment. "About ten days ago, or so."
John almost choked on a sip of IPA. "Ten days ago? That’s incredible. I saw her with no makeup and wearing a nightie. She looked like a natural born woman. I’ve never heard of someone passing so quickly."
Ann nodded, again. "Believe me, no one is more surprised about that than me, but to tell you the truth, I’m not even sure if Quinn IS transitioning. I mean... well, long story short – this all started as part of a new job, but it seems to be a lot more, now. Everything just seemed to cascade from the moment he put on a dress. And now..." she shook her head, "... he’s in love with a boy, he’s gone on shopping dates with the boy’s sisters, the boy and his grandfather have come to the house to help with yard work... It’s unbelievable how he’s blossomed as a girl, but I still have this nagging feeling that..."
"That he’s making a huge mistake," John nodded. "That’s just natural, Annie. We worry, because we love them. I remember reading about the suicide rates for transsexuals when Sarah first started going by Shane and I was sure that I would wake up some morning and not find my sister or my brother, but just a body. Oh... sorry. That was a bit much, wasn’t it?"
"No," Ann smiled. "In fact, that’s exactly what I needed to hear. This whole thing is scaring the life out of me, John, and just knowing that you and your brother survived it... well... it really helps."
"Look, Ricky," his grandfather had calmed down enough during the ride home to at least stop calling him Dennis, "I’m not trying to force Quinn on to you, I just want you to see things clearly. Now, maybe a romantic relationship is off the table, now that you know she’s not anatomically female, but there is no reason for you to shun someone you have feelings for just because you found out that she’s not quite the same as every other girl you know."
"I can’t believe you’re taking her side in this, grandpa," Ricky really just wanted to be left alone, but Grandpa Bill had been insistent that they talk. "She lied to me, grandpa. You don’t lie to your friends. End of story."
"But you’re not mad at her because she lied to you, Ricky. When you thought she was a regular girl, you were more than happy to be with her. You’re mad at her because..." Bill waited for an answer.
Ricky shook his head. "What do you want me to say? I keep telling you that I’m mad at her because she lied to me. That’s the whole story, grandpa."
Bill heaved a heavy, tired, exasperated sigh. "When – exactly when – did you get mad at her?"
"When I read the article. Tonight. At the bakery."
Bill nodded and waited a minute, but Ricky didn’t pick up on his point. "So, Rick... Did you get made when she was keeping the truth from you, or when she told you the truth?"
Ricky grunted his frustration. "Grandpa, you are over simplifying this. Quinn let me think that she was a girl..."
"For a whole ten days," Bill interrupted. "How dare a person who has suffered more pain and faced more challenges than you will ever know, have the audacity to wait ten whole days to tell a total stranger the most personal secret a person could possibly have. You’re right Rick, I was over simplifying. She should have sat you down that first night, when, incidentally, she was under the impression that YOU were gay, and said, ‘Oh, by the way, let me tell you the most private secret a person can possibly have.’ What you are not seeing, Rick, is that she DIDN’T tell you because she liked you and that she DID tell you because she loved you. And according to what you told me, you loved her, too."
Ricky stared at the table top.
"I’m not trying to force you to see things my way, Rick, but I saw what happened at the bakery tonight and I didn’t see a boy in a dress trying to hurt you. I saw a beautiful young woman who bared her innermost self to you because she loved you and wanted to be honest with you. Now, take that for what it’s worth and think about it before you write her off." Bill knew that he’d pushed the boy as far as he could. "Why don’t you go to bed now, Rick. I won’t bring this up again, but you know that I’m here if you want to talk."
Ricky nodded and stood. "Ok. Goodnight, Grandpa."
"Goodnight, pal. I’d say ‘sleep well,’ but I doubt that you will, so I’ll just say – See you in the morning."
Ricky walked out of the kitchen, through the living room and was about to start up the stairs when he saw his sister Fiona sitting on the stairs, about halfway up. She held up a key ring with one key and a remote fob on it. "Here’s your spare key."
Ricky took the key. "Thanks."
He started to walk past, but Fiona grabbed his hand and pulled him down. "Sit with me, Rick."
"Fi... I just want to go to bed."
"Please, Rick. I know you had a rough night, but I need to talk to you."
Reluctantly, Ricky sat beside her.
After a moment of silence, Fiona said, "I’m sorry, Ricky. I know you liked her a lot."
Ricky let out a small, sad laugh. "Him actually. Quinn’s really a guy."
"I know," she said quietly.
He looked at her surprised. "How did you find out?"
Fiona shrugged. "I heard about her accident... so I Googled it."
"Do the others know?"
She shook her head. "I don’t know, but I didn’t tell them."
"Thanks," Ricky said.
"I didn’t do it for you. I did it for Quinn. It’s nobody’s business but hers. Besides, I like her."
Ricky looked at her and saw she was a little ticked off at him for some reason. "Yeah. I liked her, too."
He was about to stand up, but Fiona stopped him with a question. "Were you planing on sleeping with her any time soon?"
"What!?"
"You heard me."
Ricky couldn’t believe what his younger sister had just asked him. "Fi, that’s a pretty personal question and..."
"Oh, for crying out loud, Ricky, just answer it."
He took a moment to think. "No, Fi... I did not plan on sleeping with her any time soon."
"Then what difference does it make if she doesn’t have a vagina?"
Ricky shook his head and blinked. "Fi, this is not a conversation I want to have with my kid sister, so..."
"I’m not a kid, Ricky. I’m twenty."
"Even so," Ricky waved his hands in a ‘stop it’ gesture, "I don’t feel comfortable having this conversation with you."
"Answer me a simpler question, then. If you weren’t planning on sleeping with Quinn, so that’s not the reason that you’re breaking up with her, then why are you breaking up with her at all? I mean, you love her, she loves you and she’s the nicest girl you’ve ever brought home, so... why?"
He let out a big breath. "Fi... it matters. Being a guy or a girl, I mean. It matters a lot. I thought Quinn was THE one. You know what I mean? The one that I was going to marry eventually. The one I’d have kids with, you know? Quinn’s not a woman. She can’t do that."
Now it was Fiona’s turn to let out a frustrated breath. "Ricky... remember when I was like fourteen and had an operation? Mom told you it was appendicitis?"
He nodded.
"Well, it wasn’t. I was born with something called Swyer Syndrome. Ever hear of it?"
"No," Ricky sounded concerned. Why would his mother have lied about the reason for Fiona’s surgery? "What is Swyer Syndrome?"
Fiona looked at him, looking very sad. "When I was born, my ovaries didn’t develop correctly. When I entered puberty and my period didn’t start, mom brought me to see a doctor. The doctor told me that my insides were undeveloped and they needed to remove my ovaries so they didn’t become cancerous."
Ricky was shocked. "Fi... I’m sorry. I had no idea."
"Of course you didn’t, Ricky. Do you think I wanted to tell you something that personal? To tell my brother that I’d never be a mother? That I was something less than a woman?" Fiona wiped a few tears from her cheeks. "I’m not being over dramatic, Ricky. I am not a fully developed woman. Those are the exact words that the doctor used. He didn’t think that I heard, but he told mom that I was LESS than a complete woman. I’ve been taking hormones every day since I was fourteen, Ricky, just so I could pass as a woman."
Ricky tried to put his arm around his sister, but she pushed it away and stood up, looking down at her brother.
"No, Ricky, don’t. I’m not a REAL woman, as far as you’re concerned."
"Fi, I never said that..."
"No, but... if Quinn’s not worthy of your love just because she’s not a REAL woman, than neither am I."
"Fi, please don’t be like this. You know that I love you. I love all of you guys."
Fiona sniffed back her tears. "Yeah, well... Maybe now that you know the truth about me, that might change. Think about what I just told you for a few days, Ricky, then... well... MAYBE then we can be brother and sister again, or... maybe not. We’ll see. I guess it’s all up to you." She disappeared up the stairs, leaving Ricky sad, empty and nauseated on the staircase.
"He’s out on the deck," Barbara told Ann in a whisper. "He was pretty broken up earlier, but it seems like he’s cried himself out."
Ann nodded. "Thanks, Barbie. I probably should have been there to drive him home."
"Now, stop. He did fine with me. How was your date with John?"
"Kind of amazing," Ann smiled despite her feelings that she may have let Quinn down.
"That’s great, Annie. Tell me about it tomorrow, ok? I think you might need to talk to Quinny right now. He’s feeling kind of chatty, I think." She leaned forward and kissed Ann’s cheek. "Have a good night, Annie, and remember – Quinn is an adult. Ok? He’s not just a kid. He’s put a lot of thought into his current situation."
"Ok," Ann replied, confused by Barbara’s strange warning.
She found Quinn on the back porch, a glass of lemonade and some peanut butter and crackers beside him. "Hi, Quinn," Annie smiled and sat in another chair. "How are you holding up?"
"Ok, I guess," he half smiled. "I’m kind of glad it’s over with. I just wish I didn’t have to tell what I told him at all."
Ann nodded. "I know, honey, but it’s better that he knows the truth. Did he say anything to you?"
Quinn inhaled and looked around the dark yard. "Not really. He was definitely surprised, though."
"Well, who knows. Maybe he’ll..."
"No, he won’t call," Quinn interrupted. "I’m not very bright, Annie, but I’m not stupid. It’s over. I wish it wasn’t... but it is."
Ann just nodded. Quinn was probably right. "So, Barbie tells me that you might want to talk about something."
Quinn looked at the deck floor and sipped his lemonade. "Annie... I’ve been thinking a lot since, well, since I started becoming Louisa, and..." He looked at his sister and thought about his words. "... I think I’m going to stay a woman. Full time, I mean. And I don’t mean I’m just going to wear dresses. I want to talk to some doctors and find out what it would take to... you know... fix me."
Ann shook her head. "Quinn, why do you have to say it like that? You don’t need to be ‘fixed,’ honey. You’re perfect just as you are. BUT if you want to investigate how to become a woman, then I am here to help you. I’ve already talked to your counselor and I have an appointment for you to speak to someone who specialized in sexual reassignment cases in a few weeks. Can you wait that long?"
Quinn’s jaw had dropped. "You already have an appointment? How? Why?"
Ann realized now that she may have overstepped a bit by making the appointment, but obviously, it was the right choice. "I was... scared... Quinn."
That made no sense. "Scared of me? Because I was suddenly pretending to be a girl?"
"No," Ann sighed and straightened the skirt of her dress. "I was scared FOR you, Quinn. I could see that you were headed in this direction and... honey... there’s a lot of tragic stories about sexually confused people online and, well... I could see that you were confused. I just didn’t want anything bad to happen to you. If you want to see someone else, though, Quinn, then I’ll just cancel the appointment I made. I... I just want what’s best for you, honey. I swear, that’s all I want."
Quinn nodded. "Thanks, Annie. And thanks for not hating me."
"Hating you? Quinn... why would I ever hate you?"
He shrugged. "I don’t know. I’ve put you through so much already... I’m sorry that I’m not giving you a break."
Ann stood and moved behind Quinn’s back, wrapping her arms around him and putting her cheek next to his. "Quinn. You’re not putting me through anything. Honey, I almost lost you once and I was just afraid I might lose you again. I couldn’t handle that. No matter what happens, baby, I’ll be right beside you, every step of the way."
Quinn pressed his cheek into hers. "Thanks, Annie. I don’t think I could do this without you."
"You don’t have to, honey." She kissed his cheek, again. "Come on. Let’s go in. It’s getting buggy out here."
"In fact," Quinn, dressed as Louisa, explained to a crowd of fully engaged Girl Scouts, "if you visit our neighbors over at The Breakers, you can visit a bedroom with a chair in it that has a thick steel rod running vertically up the center of the back. All of the Vanderbilt girls had to sit in that chair for several hours a day with their corsets laced around that rod so that they couldn’t slouch at all."
The girls all gasped. "That’s horrible," the chaperone grunted.
"But it’s true," Quinn assured them.
"How old were they when they started doing that?" One scout asked.
"Eight or nine years old," Quinn said. "All the Vanderbilt girls did have perfect posture, though."
"But you never had to do that, did you?" Another scout asked.
"Oh, heavens, no!" Quinn said with exaggerated shock. "My goodness, when I was eight or nine, I was running wild with the Vanderbilt boys while the Vanderbilt girls were being tortured in that chair."
"I’m afraid we need to move on, now," the maid/tour guide explained. "Thank you for your time, Miss Louisa. If everyone would please follow me."
The girls all said goodbye and followed dutifully out of the room. As the last one exited, Quinn saw that Barbara was waiting in the corner of the room. She smiled and closed the door behind the guests. "How are you doing Quinny?" She asked.
Quinn, for the first time, broke character in the public areas. "I’m ok, I guess." He forced a smile. "Just being Louisa helps. When I’m talking about Louisa stuff, I kind of forget about everything."
Barbara nodded. "Look, honey, the reason I stopped by is because I’ll probably be down in the function tents when you’re done. Remember, we have two weddings tomorrow. One at eleven and one at three."
"I know," Quinn nodded. "Monica was telling me about how everything works at lunch today. I guess I’m going to meet the elusive Mr Harper tomorrow, too."
"You will, and you’ll have to dance with him, too. Don’t worry, though, he’s an excellent dancer and a good actor. You’ll like him. A couple of warnings, though. Remember that the gowns you’ll be wearing tomorrow will make moving a bit more complicated and, also, remember that you’ll be served dinner at both weddings, so don’t eat too much at either wedding. Ok?"
"Ok," Quinn smiled, "but I hear that the baked chicken is pretty great."
"Believe me," Barbara smiled, "by the time this wedding season is over, you never want to eat baked chicken with green bean almandine ever again." There was a knock on the door. "I need to go. See you after I’m done at the tents."
She left through the exit door, just as the entrance door opened. "Good afternoon," Quinn smiled. "Welcome to my chambers at Golden Bluffs..."
Ann had just settled into a nice, hot bath with a wonderfully fragrant bath bomb dissolving between her ankles. The smell was incredibly relaxing and she sighed as her muscles unwound. "Ahh," she whispered, "this is what a vacation is supposed to be."
She closed her eyes and was just on the edge of sleep when a neighbor’s lawn mower started up. She let out a little grunt of frustration, but closed her eyes, determined to relax, in spite of the noise.
Then she noticed that the sound was getting louder and closer to her house. "What the hell?" She muttered, then pulled her wet body from the water and peeked out of the window. It took a moment or two for the lawn tractor to come into view, but when it did, she saw Ricky’s grandfather, Bill, driving past. "What the hell?" She muttered, again.
Then she realized what must have happened. Ricky hadn’t told his grandfather what happened. Bill still thought that Ricky and Quinn were still a couple. Well, so much for a bath! She’d have to get dressed and go break the bad news to him.
Five minutes later, Ann emerged from her back door, uncharacteristically poorly dressed in grey sweat pants and a tee shirt with no bra beneath, her hair pulled into a hair tie and wearing just a pair of flip flops on her feet. She called and waved to try to get Bill’s attention, but his back was to her and the motor was too loud for him to hear her.
"I don’t think he can hear you," a young woman’s voice came from Ann’s right, surprising her.
"Oh... hi," Ann tried to get a handle on the situation. "Are you... with Bill."
The girl walked up the stairs to the deck and extended her hand. "Yeah. Hi. I’m Fiona. One of Ricky’s sisters."
"Oh..." Ann was surprised, but also concerned that she’d need to explain the break up to two people, now. "Ummm... listen... Fiona... ummm... I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but..."
"No, we know," the young woman stopped Ann. "Grandpa and I came over to keep your lawn looking good, though, just to let you know that as far as we’re concerned, Ricky’s an idiot. Quinn’s the best thing that ever happened to him and he’s too stupid to know it."
Ann snickered at that. "Really? That’s nice to know and... well... a little surprising. Your grandfather knows about Quinn and isn’t freaked out by it?"
Fiona returned Ann’s snicker. "Grandpa isn’t like most older people. Well... to tell the truth, Grandpa Bill isn’t like anyone else, period."
"I guess not," Ann smiled.
"There seems to be an awful lot going on in this house today, Ricky, but I don’t seem to know what all the hubbub is about."
Ricky looked at his mother and just wished that he didn’t have to discuss this whole situation any further. "It’s not a big deal, mom. It’s just that Quinn and I broke up and everyone seems to be blaming me."
His mother raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Really. That seems odd. You’re usually the fair-haired-boy around here. How is it that the boy who can do no wrong is suddenly in the dog house."
Ricky’s head bobbed from side to side before he answered. "To tell you the truth, I think they like Quinn more than they like me."
His mother laughed. "That seems unlikely. What really happened?"
Ricky gave her a thumbnail synopsis of the previous evening.
"Wow. That beautiful girl was a boy once. That is amazing." His mother sounded impressed.
"Is still a boy, mom. Where it counts, she’s still a boy."
"Oh, please, Ricky... Where it counts, she’s a girl. Obviously, in her head and her heart, Quinn is a girl. But if you are freaked out by a little piece of skin, then I understand."
Ricky didn’t respond for a moment, but then had a different tone when he spoke. "Mom... if I were to... you know... see... Quinn again. You know what I mean... like date her again... would that make me... gay? I mean... would you think of me as... gay... if I did?"
His mother took his hands in hers. "Ricky... When you met Quinn and fell for her, your heart saw her as a girl, right?"
"Yeah."
"Then I think that, on the surface, anyway, you are just a regular, straight guy."
Ricky knew his mother’s tactics and he knew that she wasn’t done with what she had to say. "But?"
"But... you’ve never been a superficial kind of guy, Ricky. I’m thinking, and of course, I might be wrong, but I’m thinking that you didn’t just fall for a cute girl with a big smile and little breasts, did you? What I think is that you fell in love with the way she looked at you with love in her eyes, too. The way that she laughed when you told her a joke. The way she felt in your arms. The way she smelled like flowers and the way she just made you feel ‘right,’ even when she was confusing you. Am I right?"
He nodded. "Yeah. You’re right. But there’s still the matter of how we’d ever... you know... be... intimate... together."
"Well, that’s the thing about being ‘intimate,’ Ricky. It’s nobody’s business what two people do together except for those two people. I don’t think it’s any secret that your father and I had a healthy sex life before he ran off..."
"Ok, mom..."
"I mean, there’s nine rather obvious testaments to that living in this house..."
"Mom..."
"And we did things to keep things interesting that other people might find pretty weird, but it kept us going..."
"MOM! COME ON!"
His mother laughed at Ricky’s discomfort, which was her plan all along – get him to think of something else. "My point is, Ricky... I know lots of women who have problems having tradition sex. Women with vaginal pain, or back problems... whatever, but they have happy, satisfying sex lives none the less. Now, you have no way of knowing what Quinn’s plans for the future are. It’s possible that she plans to stay just as she is and it’s equally possible that she plans on having surgery, which would make regular, old, vanilla sex possible."
Ricky had no idea how to respond to his mother.
"Regardless, Ricky," she continued, "sex isn’t love. It’s part of a marriage, or even a long term relationship, sure, but even after it’s a part of your shared life, it’s a very small part. A few minutes here and there. It’s not the whole relationship."
He nodded and she stood.
"I guess the question is," she smiled, "would you rather be in a relationship that is loving and exciting and happy all the time with just a few minutes of complications every now and then, or... would you rather have a less than happy relationship with simple, vanilla sex every now and then?"
She waited a moment before finishing, "Think about that, Ricky. I made one decision and Grandpa Bill made the other. I wonder which one of us had the better marriage?"
Having said everything she needed to say, she left Ricky alone.
"Vanilla sex?" Ricky muttered. "Definitely not something I ever wanted to hear my mother say."
From "The Autobiography of Miss Louisa Harper of New York and Newport’
~ "There were ongoing battles between Mother and Father and Miranda for the remainder of the summer. Much of it involving Father’s restricting of his will. Until now, Father had willed his entire estate to his brother, my Uncle Archibald, with the proviso that Mother, Miranda and I be allowed to live in our homes and be taken care of for as long as Father’s money lasted. When a daughter married, however, it was the norm to change the terms of the paternal will to leave the estate to the eldest son-in-law. The problem was, however, that Father had very little respect for Miranda’s husband prior to their marriage. Now that they had been wed and Miranda had made her husband’s infidelity known to father, he was adamantly opposed to having a penny left to him.
Instead, Father had spoken to his attorneys to have his estate left to Langdon, even if father should pass before our wedding. He said that he trusted Langdon and was sure that Langdon, not Miranda’s husband, would be attentive to the needs of not just his wife, me, but the needs of Mother and Miranda as well. "If I leave my money to that son-of-a-bitch you married," Father exploded one morning, in uncharacteristic anger, particularly odd because it was done in front of the servants, "then you and your mother will live in poverty. Is that what you want?"
"Of course not," Miranda snapped back, "but I have no desire to spend the rest of my life begging for money from my younger sister, either!"
I, of course, was horrified to be trapped in the middle of a situation like this. "Father, can’t you just leave the money to Mother or Miranda so that they could manage their own lives?" It seemed like an innocent question when I asked it.
"And how, exactly, would a woman manage her own money, Louisa? What bank would give a woman a checking account? What investment firm would allow a woman to do business with them? Think before you speak, Louisa."
"But Aunt Ada..." I began to protest, using my independent aunt as an example, but Father corrected me before I could even finish.
"Your Aunt Ada is on a strictly regulated allowance which is overseen by Archibald. When Archie passes on, that allowance will be overseen by me, unless Ada settles down before then. Don’t get me wrong, Louisa, your aunt is a fine woman and has an wonderful, independent spirit, but that independence is subsidized by the money my father set aside for her and she is able to speak and act the way she does through Archie’s good nature. Don’t think for a moment that freedom at her level of living is free."
I stood, angrier than I’d ever been, and I did something I never suspect I was capable of doing. I challenged my father. "This is absurd! Why should a woman be treated as something less deserving than a man. If Miranda is the eldest, then Miranda should be the beneficiary of your estate."
"Oh, don’t be foolish," Father retorted. "A man has a job... a career. A man takes care of a woman. A woman should be a... a... a thing of beauty. A wife. A mother."
"Well, I for one shall never be a mother," Miranda spouted as she stood and took her place beside me. "The man to whom I have been shackled has no interest in being a father. Frankly, he has no interest in my or any other woman. I am merely a prop to hide his true life, Father, and I cannot be expected to just be a costume for him."
"Oh, stop, please," Father was very dismissive.
"No, Father," I continued to snap. "Being a woman does not mean that I shall be consigned to being just a bauble for a man. A woman and a man are equally deserving of happiness and success and I intend to be both happy and successful – AND – I intend to see to it that my sister is as well."
With that, I took my sister’s arm and we strode, straight backed and side by side, into the main house.
I heard Father grumble and then heard Mother say, "Congratulations. You have just made your daughters suffragettes. Soon, we shall be hosting Lucy Stone and Elizabeth Cady Stanton at Golden Bluffs. They may even hold a convention here." She sipped her tea and smirked at Father as she watched us depart.
"Are we all set for tomorrow?" Carolyn Jenkins asked her daughter.
"Yes, we are," Barbara replied, looking over the check lists on her clipboard and the tables, chairs and platforms that were set up on the lawn of Golden Bluffs for the next days’ festivities. "We’ll only have about forty five minutes to set up the second wedding after the first one ends, but we can do that. God knows we’ve done it plenty of times before."
Carolyn nodded. "And what about Miss Louisa? Is she ready to play junior hostess?"
Barbara laughed. "Mom, Quinny is the best Louisa we’ve ever had. He adores playing the part. He’ll be great."
"Well, let’s hope so. This is the first time he’ll need to be Louisa in such close proximity to the public. A slip up in that kind of situation could be quite embarrassing, both for Quinn and Golden Bluffs. Please just be sure that everything goes well. Oh, and tell the rest of the Harper Family to keep their eyes on Louisa, just to be on the safe side."
"Yes, mother, I already have. Everything will be perfect."
"That’s all I ask of you, dear," Carolyn said with a playful smile. "I’ll see you at home."
"It’s no problem at all," Bill told Ann. "I told you that we’d help you get your yard in order, and that’s what I intend to do. I’m not inconvenienced at all."
"No, it’s just a forty five minute ride up here, plus loading and unloading your mower a few times," Ann smiled, but tried to look stern. "Honestly, Bill... I really appreciate everything that you’ve done for us, but with the kids not dating anymore... this seems like a huge imposition."
"Annie," he chuckled, "I’m retired and I don’t like hanging around with other old men. What else am I going to do with my time. Let an old man feel useful, ok?"
Ann shook her head. "You’re a very generous guy, Bill. I just don’t want to take advantage of you."
"Fi," Bill looked at his sixth oldest grandchild. "What did you and Annie discuss while I mowed the lawn?"
"Grad school, grandpa. She gave me some advice about what I should consider when choosing a school for my master’s degree."
Bill smiled. "Seems to me that guidance like that would cost more than a little physical labor, Annie." He winked at her. "I’d say we’re even."
"Ok, ok," Annie gave up, "but come on in and have some iced tea, at least. I could use a little company."
They sat around the kitchen table and Ann poured some tea into each glass. Bill took a long sip and let out an appreciative, ‘ahh.’
"So," Ann asked after a few minutes, "how is Ricky doing?"
Bill looked at Fiona. "Perhaps you should answer that?"
Fiona thought for a moment. "Ricky’s being a stupid asshole."
"Hey!" Bill interrupted abruptly. "You know better than than, young lady. Answer the question and be polite."
Fiona sighed and started over. "Ricky is... confused. He knows he’s nuts about Quinn, but he’s pretending that he has a problem with her not being a traditional ‘female.’ Like I said, he’s being a stupid..."
"Fi!" Bill snapped.
"... jerk," she finished the sentence. "A stupid jerk."
Bill shook his head. "I apologize for my granddaughter. I thought that she was capable of expressing herself more eloquently. We shall discuss that on the way home. More importantly, though, how is Quinn."
Ann shrugged and thought for a moment. "Quinn’s... well, crushed, I expect, but she suspected that telling Ricky the truth would end everything, so... huh... I thought I might be able to clarify that a bit, but... I’m at a loss. Quinn is crushed, but not unexpectedly so."
Bill nodded. "That is a shame. Ricky is crushed, too, but... there is no reason for it. There’s no reason for any of this."
"I agree," Ann nodded. "If Quinn had been honest from the start, none of this would have happened."
Bill seemed surprised by that. "Annie, I’m afraid I have to disagree with you on this. Quinn shouldn’t have to start each conversation with a stranger by saying, ‘Oh, by the way, I’m really a boy under all this beauty.’ As deeply as these two kids seemed to love each other, they only knew each other a little more than a week before Quinn told Ricky the truth. That seems pretty forthcoming to me. I just wish that Ricky could understand that."
"I hadn’t thought of it that way," Ann said as she considered his point of view. "Quinn is... how do I put this... emotionally immature, I guess, even though that sounds a little harsh. He..."
"She," Bill interrupted. "If you’ll pardon me, Annie... I think it’s time that you start thinking of Quinn as a woman."
"You’re right," Ann agreed. "SHE hasn’t had the time to develop her emotions the way that most twenty one year olds do. She’s still trying to figure things out. Ricky is her first crush. Even if she’d been born a girl, with everything that she’s been through, it was bound to be very complicated."
"How about you?" Fiona asked.
"Me?" Ann asked. "What about me?"
"You’ve been through everything that Quinn’s been through, too. Are things complicated for you, too?"
Ann smiled at the young woman’s empathy. "You’re going to make a great teacher, Fiona. I didn’t have all the physical pain that Quinn had, but... yeah.. I’ve been through a lot, too." She thought for a moment. "And it’s always going to be complicated. No doubt about it. But I still have hope."
Fiona looked at her grandfather, then back to Ann. "You’re not alone, Annie." She held up her glass of tea. "Here’s to a complicated life."
"And to hope," Bill said as he tapped his glass against the glasses of the two exceptional woman.
"Oh, this isn’t good. This is NOT good," Carolyn groaned as she preened in her lavatory.
"What’s the matter, mom?" Barbara called the hallway.
"I’m listening to the weather on the radio and they are talking about showers this afternoon. We want to kick off the season with two beautiful weddings."
Barbara looked at her wrist and pressed the face of her Apple Watch. "According to the app on my phone and watch, there’s only a twenty percent chance of rain. We’ll be fine, I’m sure."
"I certainly hope so, and I hope to God that Quinn pulls this off. All of his drama lately has been a distraction for you. I hope it all pays off today."
Carolyn was always overly stressed before a wedding at Golden Bluffs, and, of course, everything Barbara had done to help Quinn had already paid off and Quinn had done more than prove that he made a great Louisa. This was just her mother doing what she always did – Placing blame before anything could go wrong – just in case she needed to place blame for real, later. Barbara just shook her head and said, "Quinny will do great and you know it. Now, just get ready and I’ll see you at the estate. I have to pick up Quinny. Bye."
"So, what about the people who come to do the tour of the mansion?" Quinn asked, quite concerned. "I mean, if they show up expecting to be able to meet with Louisa and Winnifred, won’t they be disappointed if we’re not there?"
Monica laughed. "We’ll do a little meet and greet at the exit when we’re not in the tent. All and all there’s only a couple of hours during the day when we’re not available to the tours and those times will be well marked at the entrance."
"Oh," Quinn nodded. "I just didn’t want them disappointed."
Monica shook her head. "You’re something, Quinn. A couple of weeks ago, you were just learning how to move in your dresses. Now, you’re worried about your fans being disappointed."
"You make me sound like an egomaniac," Quinn smiled, as he buttoned the sleeves of his blouse and prepared to put his short jacket on.
Monica kissed her ‘daughter’s’ cheek. "Just a responsible little star."
"So, where’s my youngest daughter?" A man’s voice boomed into the dressing room.
"Hi, Evan," Monica greeted the man with a hug. "Long time, no see. How have you been?"
"I’m good, Mony. How are you doing?"
"Doing well, honey. Come here. Let me introduce you to the new Louisa. Evan, this is Quinn. Quinn, Evan."
Quinn shook hands with the man, who stopped the hand shake and kissed the back of Quinn’s hand. "Welcome to the team, my dear. I hope you enjoy your time at Golden Bluffs."
Quinn looked closely at the man. "You’re... you’re... that guy. The car guy – on TV."
Evan smiled. "Well, yes, I WAS the Speed-E-Lube spokesman about five years ago. You have a good memory."
"I’ve watched a lot of TV over the past few years," Quinn explained. "I thought you were very funny on those ads, though."
"Well, thank you." He kissed Quinn’s hand once more. "That was my little brush with fame."
"Are we all set?" Barbara interrupted. "Big day, everyone. Oh, hi Evan."
"I’ll be ready in ten minutes," Evan said, then he kissed Barbara’s cheek in greeting as well.
"Where’s our Miranda?" Monica asked, pinning her hat to her hair.
"We’re using one of the tour guides as Miranda, today. She won’t be speaking, just smiling and nodding."
"What happened to that girl we used last year?" Monica asked. "I liked her."
Barbara shrugged. "I couldn’t reach her. Don’t worry, though. This girl looks good in the dress and no one really wants to interact with Monica, anyway. She’ll be fine."
"And how well do you dance, Louisa?" Evan asked Quinn.
"I dance fine," Quinn shrugged. Monica was fussing with Quinn’s hat, now. Pinning it on, just so, just as she had done for herself.
"Then I look forward to our first waltz." Evan winked and retreated into the racks to get dressed.
The meet and greets at the exit were actually lots of fun. Quinn enjoyed interacting with the girls on a different level than he had before. He answered the same questions and smiled the same way, but being out in the early summer sunshine made everything feel so much more natural.
As eleven o’clock approached, Evan joined them and so did a young women dressed as Miranda. "Shall we go, ladies?" Evan asked in a more theatrical voice than he’d used before.
"Yes, of course," Monica joined the act. "Come, Louisa. It’s time to attend the wedding."
"Yes, Mother," Quinn replied, but then he bent a bit low and spoke in a conspiratorial voice to the girls at the meet and greet. "To tell you the truth, I’d rather stay here and talk to all of you, but Mother and Father are hosting a wedding and I must attend. So, please forgive me, but I must go."
That seemed to make all of the girls feel like they were part of a game, so they happily said goodbye to Louisa and moved along with no disappointment.
‘The Harper Family’ took their seats at what was referred to as ‘The Second Head Table’ to distinguish it from the actual ‘Head Table,’ where the bridal party would be seated. The guests were all in the tent when Evan stood and clinked his spoon against a wine glass.
"Ladies and Gentlemen!" He announced in a clear, loud voice. "Please join me as we welcome the bridal party. First, may I introduce the grandmother and grandfather of the groom. Mrs Ronda and Mr William Bowman." There was applause and he continued to announce the party until just the bride and groom were still waiting for admission. Evan’s voice became even bigger and more present as he announced. "And now, Ladies and Gentlemen, please stand and join me, my wife, Winnifred, my daughters Miranda and Louisa, in welcoming our guests of honor for today’s festivities. The newly married and gloriously happy couple – Mrs Kylie and Mr Kevin Bowman!"
Evan was a brilliant master of ceremony, keeping everything moving along smoothly throughout the reception. He guided the couple through the cutting of the cake, led the crowd in clinking their glasses so that the newlyweds would kiss, and even encouraged dancing after dinner had been served. The orchestra, and it was an actual orchestra, played music from the Gilded Age and Quinn was very surprised to see that, with Evan’s encouragement, nearly everyone joined in the dancing.
Of course, the Harpers danced, too. First, Evan danced with Monica, then with the girl playing Miranda, and finally with Quinn.
"You dance extremely well, Louisa," he said quietly. "You will dance well at Miranda’s wedding, I am sure."
Of course, he spoke this way for the benefit of the people nearby who could hear them.
"Thank you, Father," Quinn smiled. "I have been studying with my dance instructor. I am pleased that you are happy with my progress."
As they approached the bride and groom on the dance floor, Evan tapped the groom on the shoulder. "May I cut in, young man?"
The confused groom looked at his new wife and back to Evan before stopping their dance and stepping aside so that Evan could take the bride into his arms. "I trust," he said to the groom, "that you will entertain my youngest, Louisa, whilst I dance with your good lady wife."
"Oh, of course," the slightly flummoxed young man of about twenty eight or nine took Quinn into his arms and began to guide him, a bit clumsily around the dance floor.
From then on, most of the men wanted to dance with Quinn. It was flattering, but, of course, he did realize that the men only really wanted to dance with Louisa Harper because Louisa was the biggest celebrity at Golden Bluffs.
Before Quinn knew it, the first wedding was over. Quinn joined the rest of ‘The Harper Family’ to say goodbye to everyone and wish them all well before Barbara appeared and took over. "Ok, clean up staff, you have twenty five minutes to get this place immaculate! Set up crew, get the supply carts ready so you can jump in as soon as clean up is down. Harpers, you can take a break. Oh, and by the way, great job everyone!"
Bill and Fiona had barely left the house before there was a knock on Ann’s door. "Oh, my God!" She grunted quietly. She’d hoped to be able to warm up her bath and climb back in, but the universe seemed determined to make sure that Ann Collins didn’t enjoy her vacation.
Whoever it was knocked again.
"I’ll be right there!" Ann screamed, hopefully loud enough that the person could hear. She pulled her sweat pants and tee shirt back on and headed towards the stairs.
Apparently, Ann had not been loud enough, because whoever it was at the door knocked again.
"Oh, come on," she grunted, very frustrated with whoever it was. "I’m coming!" She shouted again. When she reached the front door, she pulled it open and stopped short, surprised to see the face looking back at her.
"I’m sorry. I... I really need to talk to you... in person." Ricky looked exhausted.
Well, that was it. She’s wasted a thirty dollar bath bomb. "Come on, in."
From ‘The Autobiography of Miss Louisa Harper of New York and Newport’
~ "There was an odd calm around Golden Bluffs after Miranda and I had confronted Father. Langdon had thrown in his oar on our behalf as well. He said that he knew of a bank in New York City who would be willing to allow Miranda to run her finances through their offices.
"I will not become an object of ridicule amongst my peers because I allowed a woman to behave like a man," Father railed. "A proper woman just DOES NOT sully her days with financial concerns."
Mother remained calm. "Well, it seems to me that a proper woman doesn’t survive at the whim of a husband or brother-in-law, either. Honestly, wouldn’t you feel better knowing that your daughters were well taken care of then to be on your deathbed wondering if they will survive?"
"On my deathbed? Honest to Heaven, Winifred, you have an extraordinary flair for the macabre."
It was only a week or so after that conversation, though, when Father called both Miranda and me into his private offices – a place where neither of us had been with any frequency. When we entered, we found Father behind his desk with Langdon standing to the right side of Father’s desk.
"What is all of this about?" Miriam asked.
Father huffed uncomfortably and spoke in a clipped manner. "Against my better judgement, Langdon has persuaded me to speak to his colleague at a bank in New York City. It seems that this man has several female clients who are running their financial interests through his company. I am loath to allow you two to do the same, but it seems that, due to Miranda’s poor choice in husbands and Langdon’s insistence that no money pass directly from me to him, I have no choice but to allow you both to learn how to manage your own money."
Both Miranda and I were stunned and just stared at Father in disbelief. Finally, Miranda spoke. "Thank you, Father," she said, sounding very formal at first, but a tear crept into her voice very quickly. "I... I..." Suddenly, she ran to Father and knelt beside his chair to hug him. "Thank you," she said once more before running out of the office.
As for me, I stood with my mouth hanging open as if I was a halibut. Father looked at me, obviously frustrated, but not angry. He pursed his lips and sucked his teeth for a moment before he said in a voice that was a mix of reluctant respect and irritation, "You should know, Louisa, that your husband to be has proved himself to be a very interesting fellow. You and I are both aware that his family has had some financial set backs recently and that it was the intention of his parents that his marriage to you would bolster the family fortune. Now, due to his recent decision to have you learn to manage your own money, that may not happen. Although I do find his decision vexing, I also find it quite admirable. He is a good man, Louisa."
I looked from Father to Langdon and back to Father, unable to fully comprehend what was being said, but understanding quite clearly that my life with Langdon would be a life full of wonderful surprises."
"Ladies and Gentlemen!" Evan announced in a clear, loud voice. "Please join me as we welcome the bridal party. First, may I introduce the grandmother and grandfather of the groom. Mrs Margarette Cooper and Mr William Cooper." There was applause and he continued to announce the party until just the bride and groom were still waiting for admission. Evan’s voice became even bigger and more present as he announced. "And now, Ladies and Gentlemen, please stand and join me, my wife, Winnifred, my daughters Miranda and Louisa, in welcoming our guests of honor for today’s festivities. The newly married and gloriously happy couple – Mrs Sarah and Mr William Cooper!"
The second wedding began exactly the same as the first had. The guests were even more enthusiastic than the guests at the first wedding had been. People were coming up to the ‘Harper Family’ and discussing the beauty of the estate and the beautiful clothing the family wore as if it all had actually belonged to the people portraying the characters at The Second Head Table.
Quinn smiled prettily and focused on the festivities. This would be easy. Just a replay of the first wedding with new faces and names.
Barbara was just walking out of the mansion with Carolyn. So far, everything had gone very well.
"Quinn seems to be acclimating quite well," Carolyn said as they walked. "Nothing but rave reviews from this morning’s family."
Barbara raised her eyebrows. Her mother had spent the morning inventing scenarios that would divert blame away from her should things go badly, but now she was practically taking bows. Barbara chose not to point out her behavior, though, and instead focused on the matters at hand. "That’s good news. We know from experience that, if they weren’t happy, they would have made their displeasure known."
Carolyn chuckled at that. "That is true. We’ve gotten pretty good at these things over the years, though. We’ve learned that the best way to do these things is never to deviate from our outline."
"Very true." Just then, Barbara’s phone rang. She looked at the screen, surprised at the name. She stopped walking, turned and accepted the call. "Hello?"
She listened.
"Are you insane? I’m in the middle of a wedding right now."
She listened some more.
"Geez, this is not a good time. Where are you, now?"
Listened once more.
"Alright. I’ll be right there." She turned to her mother who had been waiting. "I’ll be right along. You go on ahead."
"What?" Carolyn seemed shocked that Barbara was going to allow anything to distract her during an event like this. "Barbara, we’re in the middle of a wedding. Where on earth could you possibly be going right now?"
"I’ll only be a moment. Trust me, I just need a minute." Barbara turned and ran back towards the mansion.
The baked chicken dinner as exactly as it had been at the earlier wedding. Nicely cooked and beautifully plated. Quinn picked at it and made it look as if all of the food on his plate had been touched.
"Ladies and Gentlemen," Evan spoke loudly and clearly. "Since we have finished our repast, I invite you all to join my beautiful wife, Winnifred, and me on the dance floor."
Just as before, people stood from their meals and joined Evan and Monica on the dance floor and the orchestra changed from chamber music to Gilded Age dance music. At the end of the first dance, Evan passed Monica off to an unescorted man and he asked ‘Miranda’ to join him for the next song.
Quinn sat and smiled at the guests, still a bit surprised that things could possibly be as similar from one wedding to another. He did notice, however that Barbara had suddenly appeared near the edge of the dance floor. Dressed in modern business clothes, she did stand out rather drastically from either the guests or the staff. Quinn watched as Barbara subtly waved for Evan to meet her. When the dance ended, Evan passed ‘Miranda’ off to another guest and he went to where Barbara waited, bowed his head and listened as she whispered in his ear. Whatever Barbara said seemed to confuse him for a moment. He asked a question, nodded and walked back to the Second Head Table, presumably to ask Quinn to dance.
Instead, though, he grabbed a wine glass and a spoon and tapped it, requesting that the bride and groom kiss, again. They happily obliged, but before the orchestra could begin the next song, Evan’s strong clear voice rang out once again. "Ladies and Gentlemen, I must make a quick announcement. I would like you all to welcome to our festivities, the fiancé of my youngest daughter, Louisa. I give you - Mr. Langdon BeechThorndyke. Please help me welcome him with a big, welcoming round of applause."
Quinn was surprised. No one had said a word about a Langdon character at the weddings and there had been no Langdon at the earlier wedding, either. He looked around the room, trying to locate a new actor entering. He could see a bit of a commotion coming from the other side of the room, and eventually he caught sight of someone in a very handsome tuxedo crossing the dance floor, but he couldn’t see anything beyond a fit man with jet black hair combed straight back, just like...
A shiver of apprehension shot down Quinn’s spine, then a feeling of lightheadedness slammed into him as the room began to swim. He was sure he was going to pass out when Evan’s strong hands were suddenly holding Quinn’s shoulders.
"Come on, my dear," Evan said, softly. "Langdon is here to dance with you."
Without the capacity to think, Quinn allowed himself to be helped from the chair and guided to the dance floor.
"Enjoy the dance, you two love birds," Evan said loudly, causing the guests to let out a little laughter.
‘Langdon’ turned and smiled at Quinn. It was the first time that Quinn had ever seen him without his black rimmed glasses. His eyes were even more beautiful without the appliances.
"Hi," Ricky said, quietly and nervously. "May I have this dance?"
To Be Continued...
On Becoming Miss Louisa Harper of New York and Newport - 8
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of New York and Newport: 8
start over and make a fresh start. Every step forward creates a new complication for
Quinn, of course. I hope that you enjoy this installment, too.
Author's Note: If you do enjoy this chapter, please consider leaving me a review? I truly do appreciate them. ~Clara
This version of On Becoming Miss Louisa Harper of New York and Newport: 8 has been updated with many corrections towards spelling and grammar.~Sephrena.
Image Credit: Image created through the use of ai at https://perchance.org/beautiful-people .~Sephrena.
Chapter 8
From 'The Autobiography of Miss Louisa Harper of New York and Newport'
~ "Mother was very pleased with the financial arrangements that Langdon and Father had worked out for both Miranda and me. "It gives me a great peace of mind to know that you'll both be taken care of," she told us both one morning as we rode a carriage down to the docks to take a boat to Manhattan to begin our education in personal finances.
It was late in the morning when we disembarked from the water transport, onto the docks in New York City. Langdon met us and helped us all into a carriage and we headed to the bank.
"Langdon," Mother smiled, "I have not had the opportunity to say so before, but thank you very much. I am very grateful that my girls will be self sufficient after we're gone."
"It is my pleasure, Mother Harper. I want to be sure that Louisa is always taken care of, as well. This is the best way to do that." Langdon smiled and squeezed my hand.
"Really, I am the one who should be thanking you," Miranda said. "I know that this can't be easy for you, Langdon. I'm sure that many of your colleagues have expressed their lack of support for this scheme."
Langdon smiled and looked at me. "You are very welcome, Miranda, but I will happily suffer a little ridicule to secure a happy future for my wife-to-be, and in order for her to be happy, we must secure your happiness as well."
Miranda looked at me and astounded me by saying, "In that case, thank you, Louisa. I am very happy indeed."
"Why are you here?" Quinn asked Ricky as he took him into his arms and began to dance a moderate tempo waltz.
"I needed to see you, Quinn. I was unhappy without you and I wanted to be with you." Ricky smiled.
"But... I thought you were mad."
"I was confused. I just needed time to process everything and now... I think we have a lot to talk about."
Quinn looked around the dance floor. There were way too many people to talk candidly here. "We should wait until after the wedding is over. I'm going to need to dance with other people."
"Really?" Ricky looked surprised. "I come all the way out the island, put on a tuxedo that must have twenty five pieces to it and you want to dance with someone else?"
Quinn smiled. "No. I don't WANT to dance with anyone else. I WANT to dance with you and to talk to you, too, but dancing with everyone else is part of my job. I'm sorry."
Ricky laughed at his own insecurity. "Ok. If it's part of your job then I won't make a big deal out of it."
The music ended and Quinn and Ricky applauded for the orchestra, as did most of the rest of the guests. Suddenly, Evan was next to them, taking Quinn's hand in his. "Thank you, Langdon," he smiled as he slapped Ricky on the shoulder. "Now, it's time for Louisa to perform her duties as hostess. So, please excuse her."
"Yes, of course, Mr Harper," Ricky played along. "Thank you for allowing me to have one dance."
"Don't go away," Evan smiled. "I'll arrange for another dance partner."
"Oh, but I was just..."
Evan winked at Ricky. "I'll just be a moment."
Evan started to lead Quinn away, but Quinn stopped and looked back at Ricky. Then he pulled loose of Evan and put one hand on each of Ricky's cheeks, stood on tip toe and kissed him softly on the lips. "Thank you... for coming, I mean. I... I'm really happy you're here."
"Me too," Ricky smiled.
"Now, Louisa," Evan sounded a little impatient, but nearly immediately found a happy couple who'd just finished the dance. He spoke to the man in the couple, "Good afternoon, sir. Let me introduce you to my youngest daughter, Louisa."
The man seemed a bit confused, but nodded at Quinn.
"Might I impose on you to lead Louisa around the dance floor, just one time?"
"Oh...!" The man seemed surprised. He looked at the woman he was with and shrugged his shoulders.
"Go on," she smiled. "How often do you have the opportunity to dance with a legend?"
The man looked at Quinn and smiled. "I'd be honored to dance with you, Miss Harper."
Quinn gave a shallow curtsy-style bend of the knee. "Why, thank you, sir."
"I'll meet you back at the table," the woman said and turned to leave, but Evan stopped her.
"Perhaps," he took her hand, "you'd do my son-in-law-to-be the honor of being his partner for this dance.
"Oh," the woman chuckled, then looked at the handsome young man standing by. "I'd be happy to."
Evan smiled and led the woman to Ricky. "Langdon, this is..." he looked at the woman, who responded after a moment.
"Oh, I'm Melissa."
Evan nodded. "Langdon, this is Melissa. Melissa, this is Langdon BeechThorndyke. Langdon, please escort Melissa to the center of the dance floor."
"It will be my honor, Mr Harper," Ricky smiled and straightened his jacket. "Miss Melissa." He offer his hand and led her away as the music started.
Evan smiled and walked to the side of the room where Barbara was trying to be inconspicuous.
"Well, that went better than I thought it would," Evan said.
"Damned good thing, too, or my mother would have killed me," Barbara rolled her eyes and watched the guests moving about the floor. "Let's hope we have happy endings all around."
Ann had been waiting in the Golden Bluffs parking lot until Barbara sent her a text that read 'ALL'S WELL.' Ann let out a relieved sigh and headed out of the parking lot. She was less than a mile from home when she had to stop for some road construction. There was a police officer directing traffic and he stopped the flow of cars from her direction.
Ann drummed her fingers on the steering wheel along with the Beyoncé song on the radio.
When, finally, traffic in her direction started moving, again, Ann followed the two cars in front of her slowly past the first police office. As she approached the police officer at the other end of the construction area, a female officer held up her hand for Ann to stop.
When the car had stopped, the officer made a rolling motion high her hand so that Ann would lower her window. "Yes?"
"Just pull your car in right here, please, ma'am."
"What? Why?" Ann couldn't imagine what she'd done to draw the attention of the police.
"Just pull in, please, ma'am. You're holding up traffic."
"Oh, for crying out loud," Ann muttered as she pulled to the side of the road, just beyond the construction vehicles. She looked in her mirrors and watched the female officer, but the woman seemed uninterested in her at all.
About a minute passed and someone knocked on the passenger door. Shocked, Ann looked to her right and saw the chest of police officer's uniform and an Orange safety vest filling her view. The officer made the same 'lower your window' motion, so Ann pushed the button and lowered it.
As soon as it was fully retracted into the door, the officer unexpectedly reached into her Prius and pulled the interior door handle, opening the door.
"HEY!" Ann screamed, fearful that the officer wasn't an officer at all. "What the hell are you doing?"
The officer just stepped aside to allow the door to swing past him, then plopped himself into the car. "Surprise!" John smiled. "Man, you should see your face."
Ann's jaw dropped. "Jesus Christ, John, what the hell is wrong with you?" She slapped his arm. "You scared the living daylights out of me!"
John laughed. "Yeah, that's the funny part." Then he realized that Ann was not laughing. "Hey... look... I was just clowning around. You're not mad are you?"
Ann relaxed a bit and even smiled just a little. "No. I guess not, but... you really scared me. I don't think that's very funny."
John reached over and rubbed the back of her neck. "I'm sorry. It's no big deal, right?"
Ann took a deep breath. "No. Actually it was kind of sweet." But then something occurred to her. "Oh, my God! Don't look at me, for crying out loud. Just... look out the windshield."
"What? What's wrong?" John laughed as he spoke.
"What's wrong? God, we've only had two dates, John. I'm not wearing makeup, my hair isn't done, I'm wearing sweat pants... oh, Lord, I'm not even wearing a bra!"
John smiled and glanced in the direction of Ann's chest.
"Don't look, for crying out loud!" Ann was nearly irrationally agitated.
"Geez, Annie, I'm sorry..."
"Don't be sorry, just... get out!"
John pulled his big body out of the Prius and bent back down to look back into the car. "I have tonight off because I took this construction detail. Can I take you to dinner to you to dinner to apologize?"
Ann folded her arms across her breasts and felt her embarrassment level lower just a little. "Tonight? Umm... yeah, I guess I could do tonight, but no place too fancy, ok?"
"Ok," John shrugged. "I was thinking of that nice Indian place across the bridge. Is that too fancy?"
Ann grunted. That actually sounded very nice, but... "Ok, that sounds good, but do you have any idea how difficult a last minute invitation like this is for a girl like me who hasn't had a lot of reasons to get dressed up for a while?"
"Oh, hey, I'm sorry," John said, trying to be nice. "Look," he pulled out his wallet and started to pull out a credit card, "here. Take this and go back to Newport, to a nice store and get a new dress."
"Are you deaf!?" She yelled back. "I'm not wearing a bra! Just let me go home and... I'll see if I can borrow something of Quinn's. She dresses better than I do, anyway."
John couldn't help but laugh at Ann's predicament, and, truth be told, the idea of her breasts being concealed by just a little bit of cotton was pretty exciting, too. "Ok." He leaned in to kissed her cheek, but Ann turned to face him and the friendly kiss on the cheek turned into a kiss on the lips. It lasted longer than John had expected and when he pulled himself back out of the car, he was smiling at the unexpected turn of events. "I'll be by around five thirty."
Ann looked at the clock on her radio and saw that it was already four twenty two. That didn't leave much time, but... you know what... who cares. She was going to go home and get ready and have a great night. "Ok," she smiled. "Five thirty."
She put the car in gear and pulled back out onto the street and headed for home.
"You did great out there, today, kid," Evan said as he slapped Ricky on the back. "You should consider joining us for weddings. The girls enjoyed dancing with you."
Ricky smiled. "Thanks. I had a good time, actually."
"I'll talk to the management," Evan smiled and winked at Ricky.
As they reached the dressing areas, Ricky stopped and took Quinn's hand. "Hey, we still haven't had a chance to talk, so... umm.... How about we go get something to eat and we talk for a while?"
Quinn smiled. "I really couldn't eat anything, Ricky. I just had two huge dinners. I'll go with you and have a soda or something, though."
Ricky nodded. "Great. I'll go get changed. Since you're not eating, is The Creamery ok?"
"Sure," Quinn smiled.
They each went to the disrobing areas. When Quinn reached the women's changing area, Monica was helping 'Miranda Harper' out of her corset.
"Oh, freedom!" 'Miranda' shouted playfully. "I don't know how you people wear those torture devices all day."
Monica laughed. "You get used to it." Then she noticed Quinn as he started unbuttoning his short jacket. Monica smiled at both of her 'daughters' and said, "You both did an amazing job. Good work."
"Thanks," Quinn smiled and looked at the woman who had played his sister all day. "Hi. I'm Quinn."
The woman smiled and shook Quinn's hand. "Roxanne," she said. "Well... Roxie. Nice to meet you."
The three of them set about undressing and they chatted about some of the amusing things that had happened during the day: The little girl who wanted to dance with the groom throughout the entirety of the first wedding. The blonde lady with the silver dress who got a bit too drunk and loud during the second. Just some fun chit chat.
Quinn stepped into the racks for a moment to remove his period corset and combination. He pulled on his panties and modern corset. When everything was on, he slipped on his new tee shirt dress than hung very loosely on him and stepped back into the common area.
"Quinn's an unusual name," Roxie said.
"Not any more unusual than Roxanne," Quinn teased.
"I guess," Roxie laughed. "I have met other people named Roxie, though and I only ever met one other person named Quinn, before."
Quinn began brushing out his hair in the mirror. "Well, see... that's more than the number of Roxies that I ever met."
Roxanne joined him at the mirror and began removing her makeup. "Touché. To be honest though, the only other Quinn I ever met was a boy."
Quinn stopped brushing for a moment, but after a moment, went back to the action. "Oh?"
'Yeah," Roxie began applying her own makeup. "There was this boy who went to my school. He was in a bad accident or something. He was in really bad shape. Paralyzed, I think. I kind of lost track of what happened to him. I think he might have died."
Quinn stopped brushing his hair. He wanted to be relieved that she hadn't made the connection between the fourteen year old boy and the young woman sharing her mirror, but... Wow... Was that how little he'd meant to the kids at his school? 'I think he might have died.' That was all. "That's awful," he finally muttered.
"Oh, Geez, I'm sorry," Roxie chuckled. "Leave it to me to bring everyone down! Yeah, I didn't know him well, but I remember that the accident was a really big deal at the school for a few days."
Quinn sat and put down his brush, picking up the makeup wipes. "I bet it was," he said, feeling a strange emptiness in the pit of his stomach. He'd only been at the school for a year and he wasn't a real social kid, but... a few days? Really? That's all?
"So, tell me," Monica said, reentering the conversation, "was that handsome boy who appeared on the dance floor the young man you told me about?"
Quinn blushed a little and smiled in spite of himself. "He is. That's Ricky."
"That's your boyfriend!?" Roxie gushed and nudged Quinn with her shoulder. "He's gorgeous! Does he have any brothers?"
That made Quinn laugh. "No brothers but plenty of sisters I could introduce you to."
"Oh, well, no thanks," Roxanne shook her head, but played along. "Well, it was nice working with you both, today. I hope that I get to do it again."
"I'm sure you will," Monica smiled at her. "We'll see you, soon."
"Bye," Quinn and Monica said at the same time as Roxanne left the changing area.
"So," Monica said in a more confidential way to Quinn, "am I to understand that the presences of this young man at today's wedding means that you and he are a couple, again?"
Quinn shrugged. "I don't know. We're going to talk, anyway."
"Well, fingers crossed, then." Monica rubbed Quinn's back. Remember to do what's right for you, though, sweetheart. There are a lot of pretty young men around."
"I know," Quinn smiled as he opened his purse and took out his phone. He looked at the screen and let out the words, "Oh, no!"
"What?" Monica asked. "What's wrong?"
"I got a bunch of texts from my sister. She says to call. It's an emergency." Quinn looked Monica, pale with fear.
"Well, just call her, Quinn. Find out what's wrong."
He nodded and touched Ann's number.
"Quinn?" Ann said through the phone.
"Annie. What's wrong?"
"I have a last minute date with John and..."
"What?" Quinn interrupted. "You said there was an emergency."
Ann laughed. "It is an emergency. I only have a couple of dresses and I've already worn them on dates with John, but you have all these new dresses..." she let it hang there.
"Wait. You told me it's an emergency because you want to borrow a dress from me?"
"Well... yeah. Quinn, I haven't dated anyone since the accident. I like this guy. You get that, right?"
Quinn took a breath and relaxed, assuring himself that there was no real emergency. "Of course I do, Annie. Do my dresses fit you?"
"Well, some do. Obviously, I'm a lot bigger in the bust, but you have like three of these tee shirt style dresses that fit really loose. They fit me, nicely. Can I borrow the light green one with the white flowers?"
That made Quinn laugh. "I bought four of those at the outlets. I'm wearing the yellow tie-dyed one right now."
"So... can I borrow the green one? I hate to rush you, but John will be here soon."
"Of course. You can always help yourself."
"Thanks, honey," Ann sounded happy. "I wonder how many girls can say that they can borrow dresses from their little brothers?"
"Probably more than we think."
XXX
From 'The Autobiography of Miss Louisa Harper of New York and Newport'
~ "My life had taken many shocking turns over the summer of 1891. At only fifteen years of age, I had been betrothed to a man six years my senior, I had opened a checking account at one of Manhattan's most prestigious banks and, and probably most odd and a bit concerning, I had been charged with applying my energies to the needs of the less fortunate in the city and beyond.
Late in August, Langdon took me back into the city in order to meet with the Mayor of New York - a man who was nearly as, if not more powerful than, President Benjamin Harrison.
We arrived at Mayor Grant's office at eleven on that hot August morning. His secretary, a middle aged woman with severely unfashionable taste in clothing, tried to speak only to Langdon, but he refused to answer and diverted all questions to me. At first, I found this unsettling, but then I realized that Lanny was just showing me the respect that he expected the rest of the world to show me as well.
We waited about ten minutes before the woman announced, "Mr Beech-Thorndyke, the Mayor will see you, now."
Langdon remained seated, his legs crossed casually, and he ignored the Secretary.
"Mr Beech-Thorndyke?"she called to him.
"Yes," Langdon responded, acting as if he'd not heard her before.
"The mayor will see you, now."
"Oh? I'm sorry. I am not here to see the mayor. I am merely a chaperone."
The woman was very angry as she looked beyond Lanny to me and said, "Miss Harper. The mayor will see you, now."
"Thank you," I said as sweetly as I could.
Langdon stood and helped me to rise as well, then he followed my towards the mayor's office door.
Before we reached it, the Secretary stopped us. She had moved behind her desk, but was not yet seated. "If I might suggest, Miss Harper," she said, sharply. "A woman needs to know her place if she is to survive in a man's world. As a woman of your young age and high breeding, I would imagine that you have not been put in your place very frequently, but let me assure you that the kind of behavior you and your chaperone have displayed here will not be tolerated in most quarters."
I glanced down and saw the woman's name plate on her desk. Then, emboldened by Langdon's support, I said, "And let me assure you, Miss Sullivan, that no matter what kind of obstacles I may face, I shall always be aware of 'my place,' and that shall always be wherever I can do the most good."
The woman began to speak, but I was too fast for her. "And may I also assure you that I shall never encourage a person of our sex to 'know her place,' Miss Sullivan. The times are changing, ma'am, and I suggest that you work with your fellow women. Not against us."
The woman stared at me, her eyes blazing with anger, but she held her tongue as I past. Langdon could not help but make comment, though. He smiled at the woman and said, "Isn't she something amazing? Imagine what a world she can create."
As we entered the mayor's office, I heard Miss Sullivan slam her stout body into her chair and mutter, "Well, of all the impertinent gall..." but then the door closed and I could no longer hear her.
"You did an excellent job today, Barbara," her mother complimented as they finished clearing the event tents. "I was concerned that that little stunt of yours might backfire, though. All'x well that ends well, I guess."
"Stunt?" Barbara asked innocently. "What stunt is that, mom?"
"Oh, you didn't think I saw that boy that you brought in as Langdon, I guess. Well, I did. Tell me... what is going on between him and Quinn?"
Barbara shrugged and smiled. "Love, I guess, mom. Just love."
"I see," Carolyn pondered that a moment. "So, Quinn is... a homosexual? I didn't see that coming."
"Quinny is just Quinny, mom. Let's try to avoid labeling him right now, ok? He's just trying to figure out who and what he is right now. Let him be."
"Oh, aren't we a little over protective, Hmm? Remember, as I have tried to point out a million times, you are not that boy's mother. You are far too invested in his well being. You need to start worrying about your own life, young lady, or pretty soon you're going to find yourself alone and wondering what happened to the best years of your life. Take it from me, Barbara, it's better to have someone to be with at night. I think it's time that you cut the apron strings on that boy. Especially now that he's decided to go down this road he's chosen. I mean, it's one thing to wear a dress as a costume to help us out, but a whole other thing to decide to be gay..."
Barbara slammed her clipboard down on an empty table creating a loud crash and causing everyone to look in their direction. "Not another word, mother!"
"Well, Barbara, I'm just saying..."
"NOT ANOTHER GODDAMNED WORD, MOTHER!" She shouted so much louder than she'd expected to. She looked around with fire in her eyes and everyone just went back to work without comment.
Barbara moved in close to her mother and spoke in a quiet, but terse voice. "Who the hell do you think you are to say something like that about ANYONE, especially Quinn Collins? You KNOW what that child, what that family has been through and you're going to stand there and pass judgement on him because YOU don't approve of who he loves or how he is living his life?"
Carolyn was taken aback by the vehemence of her daughter's tone, but was attempting to continue to look as if she was in charge for the benefit of the rest of the staff. "Barbara, I was simply saying..."
"I know what you were saying, mother. You were saying that Quinn's a little pervert who has no fight to happiness and that I'm an idiot for caring about him. Well, let me be very, very clear about this, mother - that boy, his life, his love life, his body and his choices are never, ever open to discussion with me. Is that clear?"
Carolyn went to speak, but Barbara continued on.
"And further more - I am not particularly interested in hearing your opinions on my life choices, either. I threw away one chance at happiness because of your narrow mindedness and I have regretted that every day of my life ever since. And don't give me that 'while you live under my roof' bullshit, either. It's as much mine as it is yours. Daddy left that house to both of us and for the past few years, I have been the one paying for the repairs and maintenance."
"Barbara," Carolyn was turning a bit pale. By now, the rest of the staff had left the tent, partially due to duties elsewhere and partially to give the mother and daughter some privacy. "I can't believe..."
"That'd I'd talk to you like this?" Barbara snapped, but she was realizing that she'd been pretty aggressive in her attack. She took a breath and spoke more quietly and with more control. "Well... neither can I, mother, but... I am serious. I love you and you are my mother, but Annie and Quinn are my family, too and I expect... no, I insist that you treat them with the patience and respect that they deserve - that they have PROVEN they deserve." She looked around at the beauty of the estate and calmed herself completely. "Now... I'm sorry if I... flew off the handle, but... I guess those were things that needed to be said."
Carolyn nodded. "I understand that, Barbara, and I apologize if I was insensitive, but... in the future... can we PLEASE have conversations like this at home, or at least in the privacy of my office?"
"Yes... yes... of course," Barbara said, completely astonished at herself for having been as forceful as she'd been. "And I apologize for that, mom. I am very sorry to have embarrassed you, but... I mean it. Annie and Quinny are off limits. Ok?"
Carolyn nodded again. "Ok. I... umm... I will be home late. We'll talk in the morning." She nodded a few more times, not knowing what else to do, and she turned and walked back towards her office.
"I didn't think you'd ever want to see me again."
"To tell you the truth, I didn't know how to react when I read the article. Well... you really didn't give me much time TO react to it and it was a lot to take in. It took me a while to get my head around everything, but... I'm here, now and I'm happy that I am."
"Me, too." Quinn smiled from the passenger seat of Ricky's car. They'd been in the parking lot at The Newport Creamery for nearly forty five minutes talking, so far, and there was still an awful lot to discuss.
"So..." Ricky was tentative, but needed to ask a few questions. "... when did you... you know... start wearing dresses?"
"The day before I met you," he answered, honestly. 'It was only supposed to be so I could play Louisa, but... it escalated pretty quickly."
"I guess," Ricky laughed. "And... when did you realize you were gay?"
Quinn shrugged. "Well... the minute I saw you, I guess, but... I don't feel like I'm really gay, per se, Ricky. I know now that I'm going to remain a girl... well, a woman... from here on out, but... I can think of a million handsome men - or even a million beautiful women - and I feel... nothing. I don't feel attracted to them. I don't feel excited by them. I don't imagine what it would be like to be with them... but when I saw you... I just fell apart. Like I was completely unmade, right there, right then, and I was put back together just for you. See, I don't think I'm actually gay. I never wanted to be with anyone else, but as soon as you smiled... I just wanted... to be with... you."
"Wow." Ricky whispered. "Can I tell you something? I felt the same way. The moment I saw you... well... I just knew I loved you. Now, believe me, I know how stupid that sounds, but, honest to God, it's the truth. It was like... like I was a jigsaw puzzle with a piece missing and then I found you and you were that missing piece." He chuckled at himself. "I bet people would think we were nuts if they heard us talking like this."
Quinn squeezed Ricky's hand. "I don't care. It's the truth."
"So..." Ricky sighed, "what now? I mean... can we just pick up from where we left off and move forward, or... what?"
"I hope so," Quinn replied, a little nervous. "I should tell you, though, that I have an appointment in a few weeks with a new councilor. One who specializes in people with sexual dysphoria - I think that's what they technically call people like me. Anyway... eventually... I do plan on becoming a woman. Like... you know... a woman."
Ricky nodded and looked serious. "That's something you'd do just for yourself, though, right? Not just to please me, because..." he took a deep breath. "Quinn... I've really thought about this a lot and... well... I'm not gay, either, but... you mean an awful lot to me and... I really don't care what kind of... equipment... you have. What ever you have... It's you and I love and you I want to be with you. So, whatever makes you feel ok about yourself is ok with me. Did that make sense?"
Quinn leaned over and kissed Ricky's cheek. "No, it makes no sense at all, but it means the world to me."
"Holy Moses, that's hot!" John said as he took a bite of his curry. "I'm used to Mexican food, but that's a whole new level of hot!"
Ann laughed, but had to agree. She'd had Indian food a few times in college and she had expected it to be spicy, but this was unusually hot curry. "I know. I think we should take smaller bites."
"You think that will help?"
John laughed and his eyes sparkled, sending a little shiver down Ann's spine. It had been a long time since Ann had opened herself up to anyone other than Quinn and she was really enjoying it - AND she was feeling things she hadn't thought about in ages.
"Maybe not," she laughed back. "Let's see, the appetizer nearly killed both of us and the curry is even hotter than that... Maybe we're just not cut out for Indian food."
John drank a big gulp of water, but that just seemed to make the spicy hotness intensify in his mouth. "Oh, God. Maybe you're right. Here I was, trying to seem worldly and experienced by taking you out for an exotic meal and I'm about to keel over and die from the food."
"Believe me, everyone is more worldly than me," Ann smiled, knowing that she'd been locked in a house taking care of Quinn for a big part of her life. "Maybe you're right, though. Why don't we get going and we can go to that burger place we passed on the way. I'll buy you a burger and some ice cream."
John stared at Ann in near disbelief. "Seriously? That'd be ok with you?"
"Look, John - I'm sure that this is excellent food for people who are used to this kind of heat, but I'm not and I'm hungry. Let's go get something we both like. We can eat on the beach and talk. How does that sound?"
John looked away from Ann and waved to catch the attention of the waitress who came quickly to the table.
"Can we, please, get our check?"
The waitress looked concerned. "I'm sorry? You didn't like the food? I can get you something else if you'd like?"
"No, no," he fibbed, "we just got a phone call and we have to run."
"Oh," the waitress seemed relieved that they weren't leaving because they didn't like the food. "Let me get you some boxes for the food..."
"NO!" John said a bit too quickly. "Just the bill. You know, never mind." He pulled four twenty dollar bills out of his wallet. When they'd ordered, he'd estimated that the meal would cost somewhere between fifty and sixty dollars. "Here," he said as he laid the money on the table.
"Oh, but this is too much," the waitress said, fishing their running tally-bill out of her apron.
"It's a tip," John assured her as he put his arm around Ann's shoulders and led her towards the door. "Thank you!" He called back.
The woman was shocked. The bill was only fifty two dollars. This was a pretty big tip, especially from a customer who'd barely touched his food. "Please come back again, soon!" She called to the exiting couple.
Barbara looked into her glass of white wine and shook her head. She'd spent to many evenings like this - alone, lonely and looking at her wine. She'd made huge mistakes in her life, just trying to please others. Well, one big mistake, anyway. She'd done it because she wasn't brave enough to be honest with her friends and her mother. Yet, she'd pushed poor Quinn to be braver than she'd ever been and now, Quinn seemed to have found somebody. It wasn't going to be easy for them, but they seemed happy.
This was too much, though. Here she was, home alone, her mother was out with someone, Annie was out with a new boy friend and even Quinn was out with Ricky. Yet, here she was - alone and drinking wine.
She picked up her phone and scrolled through her contacts, stopping on that number she used to call nearly every day. She stared at it and wondered what would happen if she called. Could she apologize? Would an apology even be welcomed?
She stared at the name with her finger hovering over the contact's number for at least five minutes.
Finally, she pressed the number and she put the phone on speaker. It didn't even ring. Instead, a message sounded. "We're sorry, but this Verizon Wireless number is not active. Please check your number and call again."
Barbara sighed. It had been three years since she called. It wasn't that unusual for someone to change their number.
She looked at the landline number that was listed for the contact and thought about it for a moment. Finally, she touched that number as well.
"Hello?" The familiar voice came through the speaker. Barbara was almost too surprised to say anything. "Hello?" The voice said, again.
"Hi," Barbara said in a hoarse whisper. "Umm... April?"
"Yes," the voice said.
"It's..." she nearly hung up. "It's me... Barbara."
"Barbara?" The voice said, surprised. "Umm... How are you?"
"I'm ok," Barbara said. "You?"
The woman's voice definitely had a defensive quality to it. "I'm alright. Umm... why did you call?"
Barbara sighed. "I don't know. I guess I just... missed you."
"Really?" The voice sounded skeptical. "Barbie, it's not like I've been avoiding you. You left me, remember?"
"I know," Barbara said. "And... I'm sorry. I really am. Do you think that, maybe, we could talk sometime."
There was silence on the end of the line for nearly a minute. "Barbie... you really hurt me. I thought you loved me and you left." The voice sounded cold, now.
"I did love you," Barbara was shaking. "I should never have listened to my mother, April, but... never mind. I guess I just wanted to say I'm sorry. I won't bother you any more. Bye." She disconnected the call and wiped a tear from her eye. She didn't know what she'd expected, but... oh, well.
She sipped her wine and picked up the TV's remote. She looked at it and considered pushing the 'on' button, but couldn't even muster the ambition to do that. She looked at the wine some more and swirled it a bit in her glass.
She laid her head back against the back of her chair and looked at the ceiling. What a stupid idea that had been. Just a stupid idea.
The silence of the room rested on Barbara's chest like a weight and she just stared at nothing.
Then the phone rang.
Barbara looked at it, but didn't recognize the number. She accepted the call. "Hello?"
It took a moment for anyone to speak. "Barbie..."
"April?" All at once, Barbara expected to be on the receiving end of the angry attack by a spurned lover.
"Barbie... I miss you, too. I'd like..." the woman took a deep breath. "I'd like to talk, too."
"Hey, Rick and Quinn!" Joe called from the grill. Then he looked at the waitress and said, "I'll take care of these guys." He grabbed a towel and wiped his hands, then came over to where the couple was was sitting. "Geez, Quinn, you're becoming a regular here."
Quinn smiled. "I just come to see you."
"Really?" Joe laughed. "Hey, if you ever want to dump that guy and give me a shot," he winked, "just let me know."
Quinn laughed and blushed at his brazen teasing.
"Alright, alright," Ricky interrupted and snapped his fingers. "Garçon, I'll have a burger, fries and a root beer."
"Yes, your highness," Joe smirked and nodded to Ricky. "How about you, Quinn? How about another Awful, Awful?"
"Oh, Lord, no," Quinn laughed. "That's like a pint of whipped ice cream. I couldn't possibly handle that today. I'll just have an iced tea."
"Coward," he winked again and smiled broadly. "Hey, Rick - do you want mushrooms on that burger?"
"No," he laughed. "You know that I hate mushrooms."
"Extra mushrooms it is, then," Joe turned and walked away.
"You know," Ricky said to Quinn, "my sisters were really ticked off at the prospect of me and you breaking up. I suppose your sister was, too."
"Not really. She blamed me for it, I think." He thought for a moment. "That was really sweet of your sisters, though. I like them, a lot."
"Good, because I think you're dating them, too."
That made Quinn smile. "I don't think I've ever had three close friends before. Dating nine people sounds exciting."
Both of them laughed at that. Then Ricky looked at Quinn and was once again taken by how beautiful she looked when she smiled. He took Quinn's hand in his kissed it. "I missed you, Quinn. I was afraid that we'd never have times like this together again."
"Me too," Quinn agreed. "I so sorry that things are so... complicated with me. I wish it could be easier."
Ricky shook his head. "You know what? I don't care how complicated it is." He leaned forward and kissed Quinn's lips very softly. "I'm just happy to be with you."
From 'The Autobiography of Miss Louisa Harper of New York and Newport'
~ "Mayor Grant looked over my proposal and nodded. "I do have a question, though, Miss Harper."
I asked what that question was and he paused before asking, "How exactly do you plan to be the executrix of this foundation?"
I was a bit surprised by the question. "Well, as I explained in the proposal, I plan to work in conjunction with Jane Addams of Hull House in Chicago to set up a similar house here, in New York City. I plan to talk to some of the directors of the more successful social programs in this city as well and create a means of helping as many people as possible."
Mayor Grant nodded, but persisted. "What I mean, Miss Harper, is... in your proposal, it appears that you and you alone will be overseeing the day to day financial operations of this endeavor..."
"With the oversight of an independent accounting firm," Langdon pointed out.
"Yes, but," the Mayor smiled, "but... at the risk of pointing out the obvious... you ARE a WOMAN and a VERY YOUNG WOMAN at that. I cannot imagine any financial institutions working with you on this project."
Then, it was my turn to smile. I pulled the agreement I had signed with Langdon's colleague and handed it to The Mayor. He read through it, then stood and extended his hand. "Miss Harper, it will be my honor to help you in this very noble endeavor."
I stood and accepted his handshake, but I must admit that I was just a bit embarrassed by my inability to keep from smiling broadly. I was suddenly very proud of myself - A fifteen year old woman with financial independence far beyond any of my peers, a fiancé who not only loved, but supported me and a mission in life that was filling me with a new found sense of excitement.
"Morning," Barbara called as she entered the Collins house.
"Hey, Barbie," Annie smiled from the coffee maker in the kitchen. "Here. You have this one. I'll make another."
"Oh, thanks," Barbara took the mug and sniffed the vapor. "Vanilla? Mmm... I love vanilla coffee."
Ann returned to the coffee maker, placing another K-cup in the receptacle and pushing the 'brew' button.
"Hey, umm, Annie... can we talk before Quinn comes down?"
"Sure," Ann smiled. "What's up?"
Barbara put the coffee mug down and thought for a moment. "Do you remember that, when I was in college, I talked about someone I was in a relationship with."
"Of course," Ann nodded. "You seemed really serious about that guy for a while. I thought you might even be considering settling down with him. I was always hoping to meet him. You never told me why you broke up."
"Yeah, well... that guy... his name is... April... and I kind of reconnected with her last night."
Ann turned and looked at Barbara. "April? Well, that's... great, I guess. I mean... you did want to reconnect with her, I assume?"
Barbara nodded. "I did. I called her, in fact."
"Well, then, that's great, Barbie."
It took a second for Barbara to assess her friend's reaction to her revelation. "So... you're ok with me being... you know... a lesbian?"
Ann shrugged and added some creamer to her coffee. "I don't understand."
"I mean..." Barbara huffed as she looked for the right words. "Look, Annie... When Quinny started developing a shine for Ricky... I thought I detected a little hesitance on your part to accept it. Remember? I asked you several times if you were ok with it."
"Yeah, of course I remember, but Barbie... Quinn had never had a crush on anyone before. I would have been just as thrown if he'd 'taken a shine' to a woman."
"Really?" Barbara screwed up her face in an expression of disbelief.
"Ok, I admit it. I was surprised, ok, but that doesn't mean I made a judgement or anything. Regardless, though, that's not what we should be talking about right now. If you're asking if I am going to be judgmental now... I am a little disappointed that you think that I might be like that." Then she paused and cocked her head. "Wait... why didn't you tell me about April before? I mean, I knew you had a serious relationship, but you never even hinted that it was with a woman. Did you seriously think I was too shallow to accept that?"
Barbara shook her head and stood silent for a moment.
"You know what," Ann sat. "I don't care. I shouldn't have asked that. God, if I've learned anything from living Quinn, it's that I should never expect things to be simple. Barbie... I'm very happy for you and I hope that this works out for you. Honestly. That's all I want. I swear it."
Barbara sat, too. "I should have told you. I wanted to tell you, but..."
"Your mom?"
Barbara nodded. "I couldn't tell her. Not back then, anyway."
"And now?"
Barbara smiled. "Now... I'm a different person, now. I think she'll accept it more gracefully than she would have when I was still in college. She always felt that RISD was too 'bohemian.' Now...? Now, I'm a well recognized, successful costumer with some pretty impressive credits. I think - I think, mind you, I certainly don't know, but I think that she'll be ok with it."
Ann reached across the table and squeezed her friend's hand. "You know she loves you, Barbie. Just tell her. It'll be ok. Even if she bocks at first, she'll come around eventually."
Barbara bit her lower lip. "And if she doesn't?"
Ann smiled. "You're a well recognized, successful costumer with some pretty impressive credits. There's no law that says that you have to stay at Golden Bluffs."
"But I like Golden Bluffs."
"Then stand your ground and make sure she understands that you're serious about this girl and she'll understand."
Barbara looked up at the sound of someone coming down the staircase. "Thanks, Annie. Don't say anything to Quinny, just yet. She has enough on her plate."
Ann nodded. "Yes, SHE does."
"Oh, hi. Barbara, right?"
Barbara turned to the sound of the low, masculine voice, and she blinked a few times. "Oh, ummm... yes. I'm Barbara. John, right?"
He was wearing a nice looking pair of jeans and a sleeveless tee shirt. His muscles on full display - even his well defined six pack was visible through the tight fitting tee shirt.
"Yeah. Nice to see you again." Suddenly, he felt out of place. "Hey, did I interrupt something?"
Ann accepted a kiss on her cheek from the sweet Adonis. "Not at all. Barbie is just picking up Quinn."
"Cool," he nodded and turned to the coffee maker.
Barbara reached across the table and slapped Ann, playfully. "Why you little minx, you."
"Alright," Ann laughed. "Let's not make a big deal about this, ok?"
John turned and smiled at Ann. "I think it's be ok to make a big deal out of it. It's a big deal for me."
Barbara looked from John to Ann. "Wait... is this something more than just a night of casual sex?"
Ann looked insulted. "Casual sex!? Barbara! How long have you known me? You don't seriously think that I'd..."
"I guess I hoped that you would," Barbara laughed. "I mean, if this isn't casual than that means...?" She waited for Ann to say something.
John finally broke the silence. "Barbara. Both Annie and I would be honored if you'd be a part of our wedding."
"OH, MY GOD!" Barbara's jaw dropped. "YOU GOT ENGAGED AND YOU SAT THERE AND LISTENED TO ME PRATTLE ON ABOUT MY LITTLE NEWS!? WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU!?" She stood and hugged her friend, then hugged John. "Is this a little quick?"
"Yes and no," Ann chuckled. "Yes, we've only had a few dates, but we've known each other awhile. Besides, we've discovered that we have a lot in common. We're both grownups. I think we know what we're doing."
"That's great." Barbara was genuinely happy for the couple. "So... does Quinny know, yet?"
Ann laughed as she glanced towards John. "You're not going to believe this, but John actually took Quinn aside and asked Quinn for permission to propose to me before he asked me."
"Aww," Barbara smiled at John. "Wait... is this a 'man of the house' kind of a thing?" Then, realizing that she'd just referred to Quinn as a 'man,' her hand shot to her mouth, covering it to stop it from saying anything more. "Oh, no."
"Don't worry," Ann laughed. "John knows everything. Apparently, he always did."
"And this isn't a 'man of the house kind of thing,'" John smiled as he stirred some sugar into his mug. "I just knew that Quinn was going through a lot and I didn't want to add to that if it was going to hurt her recovery."
"Geez, a cop and a saint." Barbara gave his bicep a soft punch. "You're the whole package, aren't you?"
From 'The Autobiography of Miss Louisa Harper of New York and Newport'
~ "I'd read all of those Horacio Alger 'rags to riches' stories that were so popular and I knew that the United States had recently developed what was being called a 'middle' class. A class less well off than the families in my social circle, but better off than the majority of the country's working poor. It was a relatively small group of people, but I sensed that they had made a firm foothold in our country. Strangely enough, it was not the wealthy or secure that chose to contribute to my cause, but the members of this new middle class who rallied to assist. They seemed much more empathetic to the needs of the poor and it was these people who helped to fund my first Community Home.
What surprised me, though, was the vehemence of the opposition to helping these poor people from my own social strata. It seemed that, rather than seeing the betterment of all as a positive thing, the rich and powerful saw any behavior that strayed from their view of normal as an intrusion on their freedoms. I could not then and cannot now understand this attitude. I guess that people just don't like what they don't understand."
"It's so nice here," Quinn said, quietly. "I always liked the ocean, but I never really just sat and looked at it like this before."
It was past eight o'clock on a quiet Sunday evening. Quinn had worked till five and Ricky had come to pick him up after. The plan had been to go have a nice sit-down dinner and talk, but the plans had changed to sharing a tuna sandwich from a nearby pizza place and a picnic on a secluded part of the beach, not far from Golden Bluffs, on the western shores of Aquidneck Island. Now, after hours of talking things out, the clouds above Narragansett Bay were a beautiful orange, creating a beautiful end to a beautiful day.
Quinn was cuddled under his arm, his head against Ricky's chest. Ricky laid his head on Quinn's. "Quinn... can we make a promise - right her, right now?"
"Sure."
"Let's just always be honest with each other, ok? No more secrets. Ever."
Quinn pulled his head out from under Ricky's and smiled up at him. "I think I've told you everything possible about my life, but I don't know any of your deep, dark secrets. What are you keeping from me?"
"I'm an open book," he laughed. "Let's see - the big stuff: Father left us flat. Grandpa Bill is a freaking Saint. Great mom, who can be a little overwhelmed and disengaged from time to time. Eight sisters, all of whom are great, but can't seem to mind their own business. I listen to way too many show tunes. Working on a degree in Psych. Part time job at a Verizon store. That about sums it up."
"And the little stuff?"
Ricky sighed. "The little stuff... let's see. I love brown sugar cinnamon Pop Tarts. I hate peas. I love Humphrey Bogart movies and I'll stay up late to watch them with Grandpa Bill. Oh, and westerns, too. If '3:10 to Yuma' or 'The Magnificent Seven' is on - either the old versions or the remakes - I'm probably going to sit down and watch them. I like to play Michigan Rummy on rainy days... I think that's about it."
"Former girlfriends?"
"Ah..." Ricky made a show of thinking. "Four, I guess. Suzy Roberts in eighth grade - she dumped me because we disagreed on music. Marcie Hill in freshman and sophomore years of high school. She dumped me when she found out I took dance class. Carla Swenson in junior and senior years - she dumped me for a college football player just before senior prom. I had to take my sister Cathy."
"Oh, no," Quinn couldn't help but laugh.
"And Natasha Ramirez in freshman year of college."
"Did she dump you, too?"
That made Ricky laugh. "No. She failed almost all of her classes and moved back to California. Turns out, a long distance relationship requires a bit of a commitment from both parties."
"I imagine it does."
"So... why do you think you'll dump me?"
Quinn looked up at him and looked more serious than he had all evening. "Me dump you? I don't think that will happen. If anyone is going to dump anyone, it'll probably be you dumping me."
"Why would I ever do that?" Ricky seemed surprised. "Quinn, I have spent the last two days telling you how important you are to me. Why would you think I'd ever leave?"
Quinn sighed. "What if someone - someone like your friend Joe at the Creamery. What if Joe found out about me and told other people? How would you handle that?"
"Handle that?" Ricky seemed surprised by the question. "Quinn, you're as much of a woman as any other woman I know. I wouldn't 'handle' anything. If people can handle it, great, if they can't, who cares. I'll just remove them from my life."
"You think that you could really do that?"
"Of course I do. Look, if you want, I'll tell Joe tonight."
Now it was Quinn's turn to look confused. "What? No! My genitals are none of his business."
"Ok, so we're on the same page. Our business is our business and screw the rest of the world."
"So, what are you telling me, Barbara? Are you saying that you are suddenly a lesbian? What is this, some kind of a trend or something? Quinn is gay, so now you want to be gay? Come on, Barbara, get serious. This isn't you and this kind of behavior is in very bad taste."
Barbara heaved a very heavy sigh. "Mom, please try to understand. I had a very meaningful relationship with April for nearly three years in college and nothing - no one - has been attractive to me since. Now, I am lucky enough to have a second chance with her and I'd really appreciate some support from you right now."
"Support? Barbara, if your relationship with this woman was so 'meaningful,' then why is it that you never told me about her before?"
"Because of this, mom. Because of this... attitude of yours. This... narrow minded attitude. I just couldn't handle... THIS... back then and, frankly, I can't handle it now, either."
"Good," Carolyn crossed her legs, "then let's not discuss this nonsense any more."
"NONSENSE!? Mom, I am lonely, I am in pain and I am desperately, achingly unhappy. Please, try to understand how important it is for me to give my relationship with April another chance."
Carolyn stood and straightened her skirt. "I have someplace to be, Barbara. Good night. I will see you in the morning." She headed for the door.
"Mom," Barbara said, in a moderate volume and unemotional tone. "This isn't how I want this to be. You and me, I mean."
"Good," Carolyn turned and looked back towards her daughter. "Then let's never speak of this again."
'Call me, Ricky. It's important.' That was the voice mail message that Ricky found on his phone when they returned to the car.
"That's weird," Ricky said after hearing the message.
He looked at Quinn. "It's a message from Alice. She says to call. She says it's important."
Quinn asked, "Are you going to call her?"
He blinked. "Quinn... I have a really bad feeling right now. What if something happened to Grandpa Bill, or my mom, or one of the girls."
"Maybe it's something simple. Like... they need you to bring home milk or bread or something. I got an emergency call from Annie yesterday and all she wanted to do was borrow a dress."
He blinked in surprise. "You share dresses with your sister?"
"Sure. Why not?"
He shrugged. "I don't know. I guess all my sisters share, but you and Annie just seem to have different... aesthetics."
"True, but my 'aesthetics' are just getting started and I think that Annie's have been hampered because she had to tend to me for so long. Anyway - yes, Annie likes my dresses and borrowed one yesterday. Now, are you going to call Alice or not?"
He took a deep breath. "I'll call."
He pushed the button to return the call. After a moment, he spoke. "Alice? What happened?" Silence. "Are you kidding me? You call me and leave a message like that for something this simple? You scared the shit out of me?" Silence. "Ok, I'm sorry. You scared the liver and lights out of me. Better? So, you want me to ask her what, exactly?" Silence. Then he turned to Quinn and held out the phone. "She wants to talk to you."
"Me? Why?" Quinn was confused.
Ricky shrugged.
"Do they know about...?" Quinn whispered and indicated her body.
He shrugged again and whispered. "Fi found out on her own. I don't think that Alice knows, though. I'm pretty sure that Fi wouldn't say anything."
Quinn flinched as he took the phone from Ricky. "Hello?"
"Hi, Quinn. This is Alice. Hey, we are having another 'sister's day' tomorrow and we want you to come with."
"Oh," Quinn breathed a sigh of relief. Having enjoyed the previous 'sister's day' so much, he was happy to be invited. "Sure! I'd love to come."
"Great! We're going up to Cape Cod and going to the beach at West Dennis. We're going to make a day of it, so we'll be by around seven thirty tomorrow morning. What time do you think you'll be back home tonight?"
The beach? That was a problem for a number of reasons. "Oh. Umm... you know what... On second thought, I probably can't make it tomorrow."
"Oh, don't be silly. Of course you can."
"No, really. I... I don't have a bathing suit."
"Then you're in luck. I remember how you were self conscious about the scars on your back, so I went to the mall and I found you a racer-back swim suit that will cover nearly your whole back - AND - I made sure that the suit had lots of support in it, because, you know, you told me about your back and how you prefer to wear a corset. This won't be as stiff as a corset, but it'll give you support."
"Oh, wow..." Quinn was surprised. "That's very kind of you, Alice, but... see... I have other issues..."
Before he could finish, Quinn heard someone say, "Give me the phone." A second later, the voice said, "Hey, Quinn. This is Fiona. Hey, let me get out of the car so I can talk to you."
Quinn heard a car door shut and the sound of someone walking for a moment.
"Hey - look, don't get made at Ricky. He didn't tell me anything. I found out about your accident and I googled you, so I know about... umm... you know... that you used to be a guy."
Quinn felt a warm tingle of concern wash across his body. He didn't want to admit to Fiona that she was correct, but there was no reason to deny it, either. "Umm... yeah... I still am."
Fiona laughed. "No you're not, Quinn. You just have some inconvenient things to deal with. Believe me, I understand. You're just as much a woman as I am. Anyway, when I found out that Alice bought you the suit, I knew that your inconvenient things would be a problem, so I looked up how pre-op-trans-women deal with it. Have you ever heard of a 'gaff?'"
Quinn was really not comfortable with this conversation. "Well... yeah... I know what they are, but I haven't tried one. I don't have one."
"No sweat," Fiona was nearly bubbling on the other end of the call. "I went online and I looked up how to sew one into the crotch of a bathing suit and I sewed one in for you. I didn't tell Alice about it, I just told her that I needed to make an alteration to it and I wouldn't tell her what I was doing."
"Oh..." Quinn was curious, now.
"Anyway, it might take a few minutes to learn how to use it the first time. So, we figured you could try it on tonight so it goes on easier tomorrow. So, what time will you be home?"
"I think we're going home now," Quinn looked at Ricky who nodded. "Yes, we'll be back to my place in like twenty minutes."
"Cool!" Fiona replied, brightly. "We're on our way there, now. We'll be there about the same time. See you then!"
The call ended.
"What's going on?" Ricky asked.
"I'm invited to a 'sister's day' tomorrow."
"Great! Where are you going?"
"A beach on Cape Cod."
'Cool. Sounds like fun."
"I'll have to wear a bathing suit."
For a second, Ricky didn't see a problem, but then... "Oh. So you're not going?"
Quinn shrugged. "I don't know. They're meeting us at my house. Alice knows about the scars on my back and bought me a suit that will cover it. Fiona seems to be the only one who knows about my... you know. Anyway, she says she has a solution for that."
"What kind of a solution?"
"I don't know."
"Hi," the tall, dark skinned woman with very short hair stood and smiled as Barbara entered the tavern. She was wearing a tight, knee length, leather skirt with a white, silk blouse that complimented her fit, shapely body, beautifully.
"Hi," Barbara flashed a nervous smile, but was relieved when April reached out and offered a hug. They kissed each other's cheeks and Barbara wiped away the beginnings of a tear as they sat down on opposite sides of the table.
"I ordered you a strawberry daiquiri. I hope you're still drinking them," April smiled.
Barbara nodded and said, "Thank you for coming, tonight. It really means a lot to me." Then she suddenly looked serious. "Ummm... April... before we do anything else I need to start by saying I'm sorry. I'm sorry for being such an idiot. For saying the things I said, for not saying the things I should have said, for not being honest with you, for not telling my mother and my friends about us. I'm just so... sorry. And I have been for so long."
April's smile was soft and forgiving. "Hey. I know. Look, I should have been more patient, too. I was your first girlfriend and I should have understood how hard it would be for you to tell your family about me. Let's not beat ourselves up over the past. We were both kids, Barbie. I'm really happy you called, though. I didn't realize how much I missed you until I heard your voice."
From 'The Autobiography of Miss Louisa Harper of New York and Newport'
~ "Evenings got long in August. The season was ending and many of the other summer residents were headed back to the city. Miranda and I had decided to stay at Golden Bluffs for a few more weeks. Mother and Father were taking much of the staff back to our townhouse and it would be quieter in Newport for the remainder of our stay.
It was good for Miranda and me to be alone together, though. Over the last few weeks, we had grown so much closer. In the past, because we got along so poorly, I had wished that I did not have a sister at all. Now, I wished that I had eight or nine more.
"It looks perfect!" Fiona said with excitement as Ann opened the door to Quinn's bedroom so the young woman could see how her ingenuity as a seamstress had paid off. She'd taken some of the stretchy material from an old bathing suit of her own and sewn a gaff into the gusset of the suit that Alice had purchased for Quinn. She'd found a video on YouTube that explained how to sew the addition into the garment, but it also contained instructions on how to attain a feminine look, which involved pushing the wearer's testicles back up into their testicle cavities. Since Quinn had never tried this before and Fiona was not prepared to assist with this particular aspect of the process, Ann's help had been requested.
Due to her long term role as nurse for Quinn, Ann was very well acquainted with every square inch of her brother's body, so it was an easy chore for her to complete without embarrassment to anyone.
The solid aqua swimsuit did fit perfectly, now, though, and the built-in, padded bra offered Quinn the same modest breasts that his corset created. That combined with the 'shaping' nature of the suit created an undeniably female, if a somewhat boyishly-female, shape. Like the shape of a fifteen or sixteen year old, athletic girl on the verge of young womanhood.
They went into the master bedroom and looked at Quinn's reflection in his mother's full length mirror. There was no question that this person was a woman. No hint of mannish characteristics showing anywhere.
Ann ran her hand along the area of the suit wear Quinn's equipment should be visible through the Lycra and complimented Fiona. "You did a great job, Fi. I wouldn't have believed this was possible."
"I just followed the instructions," Fiona smiled. She couldn't help but join Ann's tactile inspection of Quinn's nether regions.
Strangely, the touch of these two did nothing to either shock or excite Quinn. It was just the feeling of two sisters helping him prepare for yet another step into womanhood.
"Come on," Fiona said as she grabbed Quinn's hand. "Alice will want to see how you look in the suit. So will Ricky, I'm sure."
Quinn stopped at the door though. "Fi... does Alice know that I'm still a guy?"
Fiona stepped much closer to Quinn than he expected and looked him straight in the eye. "Quinn... you and I have a lot in common and we need to have a long talk at some point. I may never have been a boy, but I will never FULLY be a woman, either. Do you see me as a woman, though?"
A little confused, Quinn responded, "Yes, of course."
"And that's how I see you, too. And that's how the world will see us. Now, come on. Alice is excited.
Fiona half-walked-half-leapt down the stairs and took Quinn's hand again when he reached the bottom step. She hustled him into the living room where Alice, Ricky and John were watching an old episode of a television program. "Here she is!" Fiona announced with glee. "What do you think?"
Alice jumped up and clapped her hands together. "Oh, Quinn, you look amazing! Let me see the back!"
Quinn turned and and waited for a critique. He'd been so concerned about his crotch that he'd forgotten about this back and the scars that seemed to scare people.
"Oh, it's perfect!" Alice clapped some more.
"Wow," John said in a very brotherly manner, "you really do look beautiful, Quinn. That look really does suit you."
"Thank you," Quinn blushed, just a little.
"Well, Ricky," Fiona said, a bit tersely, "aren't you going to tell Quinn how nice she looks."
Ricky stood and stared. "Quinn... you look... you look beautiful. I... can't believe... I mean..." he laughed at his own inability to form a sentence. "Yeah. I mean... wow... you look great."
That was exactly what Quinn had wanted to hear and he blushed deeply and smiled.
"Do you think that suit gives you enough support for your back?" Alice sounded a bit more concerned, now.
"I think so," Quinn squirmed a bit. "As long as I'm not walking too far or standing for too long, I think I'll be fine. If we're going to be walking a lot after the beach, I'll just get changed and put my corset back on."
"Oh, a couple more things," Alice suddenly grabbed a bag and pulled out what looked like an oversized, sheer scarf with the same color background as Quinn's swimsuit, but with white flowers printed on it. "Here, this is a wrap to wear around your waist in the car or even on the beach, if you want to."
She wrapped it around Quinn's waist, creating a skirt with a knot on Quinn's left hip and a diagonal hem line that started at the knot on his left hip and ended just below his knee on his right leg.
"Very pretty," Ann said, appraising the look.
"And these," Alice dropped two aqua colored flip flops on the ground for Quinn to step into.
The addition of the wrap and the footwear turned Quinn's swimsuit into an outfit, and the bright aqua color in contrast with Quinn's pale skin and thick, dark red hair made Quinn look like a model. Ricky just stared in disbelief. How could he be so lucky as to have this girl in his life?
"One more thing," Alice said, excitedly. She reached into the bag and pulled out a what appeared to be a very short, white dress with small violets printed prettily about the material. It was sleeveless, with tiny ruffles along the sleeve openings and hem. "We kind of have a tradition on these 'sister day' outings. We all get outfits that, well they don't match, exactly, but they all are really similar. For tomorrow, we all got rompers like this one. They're all identical, except for the flowers."
"Mine has daisies," Fiona explained.
"Mine is roses, etcetera. You get it, right? Well, as our ninth sister, we wanted you to have one too. Here. Let's try it on to be sure it fits."
"Ninth sister?" Quinn sputtered. He had no idea that there were people in the world this sweet and welcoming.
"Yeah, of course," Fiona smiled, as she untied Quinn's wrap.
"Here, just step into this," Alice began to kneel, but she stopped at the sound of John's voice as he spoke to Ricky.
"Look at the TV, Rick. Give her some privacy."
"Huh?" Ricky looked at John, surprised that anyone had spoken to him. "What? Hey, she's wearing a bathing suit."
"Look at the TV," John smiled and sounded a bit more forceful. "The lady is getting dressed. Be polite."
Ricky shrugged, sat and returned his attention to the television.
"Come on," Alice stood and put an arm around Quinn's shoulders. "We'll try it on in the kitchen." Then she looked at Ann and Fiona. "We'll be right back."
Once in the kitchen, Alice quickly had the romper on Quinn and he was buttoning it up the front.
'Oh, that's adorable," Alice smiled. "Do you like it?"
"It's really comfortable," Quinn said, looking at the garment. It sat on his body in a very similar manner as the combinations he wore under his clothes as Louisa. "Thank you for including me."
Alice nodded and looked at Quinn closely. "Quinn... I just want you to feel like you're a part of our family. You know, I have a lot of experience being a big sister and helping the girls with... well, with whatever. Now. I know that there's a lot more that your dealing with than just recovering from your accident and since Fi seemed really concerned about it, I assume it has to do with... well, reproductive things, let's say. I don't know if she's talked to you about her issues, too, but... well, I should just shut up about that. My point is - If you ever - EVER - need to talk about anything. I want you to think of me as just as much a big sister as Annie of your friend Barbara. Your biological family may have been taken away from you, but I want you to always feel like you found your real family when you found us. Ok?"
Quinn's eyes were rimmed with tears that were ready to fall any second. "Thank you, Alice. That really means the world to me."
To Be Continued...
On Becoming Miss Louisa Harper of New York and Newport - 9
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of New York and Newport: 9
Author's Note: If you do enjoy this chapter, please consider leaving me a review? I truly do appreciate them. ~Clara
This version of On Becoming Miss Louisa Harper of New York and Newport: 9 has been updated with many corrections towards spelling and grammar.~Sephrena.
Image Credit: Image created through the use of ai at https://perchance.org/beautiful-people .~Sephrena.
Chapter 9
From 'The Autobiography of Miss Louisa Harper of New York and Newport'
~ "Miranda and I grew closer during our time together without parental interference at Golden Bluffs. Since I had never really had a relationship with my sister before, I was shocked as to how wonderful it was to have a woman with so much feminine knowledge to impart and so much love to share. They say that you can't miss what you never had. That may be true, but once I was the recipient of sororal attention, I was like an addict and I needed to feel that connection every minute of every day from then on."
"Hi, everyone." Quinn's smile was broad as he climbed into the van with Ricky's sisters.
Cathy was driving that day. "Bella," Alice instructed the youngest, "switch seats with me."
Normally, the opportunity for the youngest sister to sit in the front passenger seat would be greeted with 'thank you,' but Isabella wanted to get to know Quinn better, just like the rest of the sisters. "Why?" Bella responded.
"Come, on," Alice said, clapping her hands as if she was the child's mother. "I've braided all the rest of you. I can braid Quinn's hair on the way."
Bella groaned and climbed out of the van through the right side slider.
"Thanks." Alice patted her sister's back as she turned to get into the front passenger door.
"I'm sitting with Quinn on the way home," Bella said quietly.
Alice gave her sister's swim-suit-and-silk-wrap covered bottom a quick, sharp slap. "Watch your mouth. Remember who you're talking to."
"Ow!" Bella screeched.
"Come on!" Cathy shook her head and grabbed Bella's arm, pulling her into the car. "You can be in charge of the radio."
Bella screwed up her face, then climbed in and pulled her seatbelt around her waist. "I hate it when she acts like a bossy bitch," she whispered loud enough for only Cathy to hear.
"You want me to spank you?" Cathy asked, threateningly.
"No," Bella pouted. "Can I plug in my phone and play my music?"
Cathy nodded. "I said you could be in charge of the music, didn't I?"
That seemed to please Isabella.
Alice climbed into the seat behind Quinn and handed him a small, nylon satchel filled with hair accoutrements. "Hold this for me. I'll braid your hair like the rest of us, ok?"
Even though Alice's voice pitched higher at the end of the question, it really wasn't a question at all. If Quinn was taking part in sister day, then Quinn was going to have to have his hair braided into two, tight braids just like the other sisters. The braids would begin at his forehead hairline, sit tightly along the top of his head, stick tightly to the back of his head and hang neatly down past his shoulders and onto his back. He knew that his hair would look like that because that was how all of the eight girls in the car had their hair done.
"That bag has my clips, bobby-pins and hair ties in it," Alice explained.
"Oh..." Quinn replied, a bit surprised to have been brought so quickly into the fold - and to have been TOLD, not ASKED that his hair was about to be braided.
Cathy started driving and the sound of a popular K-Pop song came from the speakers, causing seven of the sisters to groan. "Come on, Bella! Not BTS!"
The youngest sister turned and smiled. "I'm in charge of the music."
Cathy gave her sister an irritated side eye. "The next twelve songs that you play had better be songs that we all like or I swear, I will pull over and leave you on the side of the road."
Isabella didn't respond, but Quinn got the distinct impression that she took Cathy's threat very seriously.
Within a few minutes, the music on the radio seemed moot since the conversation became louder than the recording being played. Quinn was quickly caught up in the questions, laughter and conversation.
"You brought your romper, right?" Someone asked.
"What bridge are we taking?" Someone else.
"Quinn - guess what! Bea got engaged last weekend!" someone else called out.
Beatrice proudly displayed the ring for Quinn to see. She was one of the quieter sibling, but she was thrilled to accept Quinn's congratulations and happy to tell Quinn about her fiancé.
An hour and fifteen minutes after the van had pulled out of Quinn and Ann's driveway, it pulled into the parking lot, very close to the beach-house/changing rooms/snack bar at West Dennis beach, about half way out on the south shore of Cape Cod.
"Why can't we ever go to Hyannis?" Grace asked. "That's where the Kennedys live. We might run into celebrities there."
"I don't think Taylor Swift is going to be walking around on Main St in Hyannis, Gracie," Ellen laughed.
"Didn't she sell her place after she broke up with that Kennedy kid?" Isabella asked.
"You never know," Fiona said, defending her younger sibling. "If there are celebrities on The Cape then they're either going to be in P-Town or Hyannis."
"Well, WE'LL never know if there are any celebrities here or not," Hannah commiserated, "because we're always at public beaches where rich people never go."
"Oh, my God," Catherine shook her head as she helped Alice and Beatrice get the blankets out of the back of the van. "We planned the day, bought you all matching rompers and drove you all the way to Cape Cod and all you can do is complain?"
"And in front of a guest, too," Alice chided.
"Actually," Fiona said, apologetically, "I really like the matching rompers."
"Good," Beatrice said, coming around to the side of the van, handing a blanket to Hannah. Then she looked at Quinn. "I'm sorry. Sometimes too many sisters can be a problem."
"Oh, don't mind me," Quinn smiled. "I'm having a great time."
"Good," Fiona said, linking her arm with Quinn's, "because we want you to like being with us." She raised her voice and called to the back of the van where Alice was closing the hatch. "And Quinn is NOT a guest. She's as much a sister as any of us."
Alice rolled her eyes. "Who's turn is it to pick a spot to set up?"
"Mine!" Hannah raised her hand.
"Ok," Alice nodded. "Let's get onto the sand - but not too far from the snack bar, ok?"
"Yep!" Hannah grabbed a hold of one of the small coolers they'd brought and led the way to the beach-proper.
"I have not enjoyed a Monday morning this much is years!" Ann chuckled as she snuggled against John who was spooned up against her back as they laid in her bed. The sheets were a mess and the sunlight was filling the room.
"I've got news for you," John laughed. "It's well last noon time. It's Monday afternoon and we haven't even had breakfast, yet."
Ann giggled, which was something she had once done with regularity, but hadn't in years. Now, she found herself doing it again. "Are you hungry?"
"Not so hungry that I want to get up," he laughed. "Tell you what. Let's hang out here for a few more hours, then I'll make a run to the farm down the Highway and I'll get some steaks and corn on the cob and do them on your grill for supper."
"Sounds great!" Ann laughed. "But I don't have a grill."
"Then I'll stop at Home Depot and get one of those, too. What do you say? Sound like plan to you?"
Ann looked over her shoulder at John and smiled. "You know I love you, don't you."
He kissed the back of her neck. "And I love you, Ann Eloise Collins."
"Oh, God! You used the middle name! I've asked you never to use the middle name!" She laughed hysterically as he squeezed her tight and licked her ear.
"Well, I think it's beautiful. Maybe I should take a shower and head out if I have to pick up a grill, too."
John got put of bed and gathered some clothes from his overnight bag before heading to the shower.
"John?" Ann asked while watching him.
"Yeah?"
"When we're married and if we live here... how will that work?"
John seemed confused by the question. "Well... I'll give up my apartment in Jamestown and commute from here to school. It's only about forty minutes. Not that big a deal, really."
"Yeah, but what about Quinn?"
"What about her?"
"I mean... will he live with us?"
John blinked. "Yeah, I suppose, so. I mean, I hadn't really thought about it, but if I thought about us being together in this house, then, yeah, of course she'd be here. This is her home, Annie. I'd never consider moving in if it meant pushing her out."
"She," Ann shook her head. "I just can't think of Quinn as a girl, yet. A boy pretending to be a girl, yes, but not as an actual girl."
John came back to the bed and kissed Ann's forehead. "If I can offer a little advice from my own experience - Get used to it. It will make everything easier. Especially for her."
Ann smiled, her tossed hair and her clean, un-made-up, natural skin made her look a bit younger than usual and she could tell that John liked how she looked. "How did you become such a nice guy?"
John snickered just a little. "I've always been a nice guy. You just weren't aware of it." He kissed her forehead. "And Quinn's always been 'an actual girl.' You just weren't aware of that, either. Now, you are, and you really need to support her."
"I do support Quinn. I support him every way I can."
He smirked, knowing that Ann hadn't even noticed what she'd said. "Then use the correct pronouns from now on."
"Mmm, this omelette is delicious," April dabbed her lips with her napkin. "This feels so decadent, going out for brunch on a Monday."
"Mondays and Tuesdays are my weekends," Barbara smiled and sipped her tomato juice. "I don't typically go out to brunch, though, because it's usually just me and a bunch of retirees in the restaurant."
April looked around. Most of the people in the not very crowded dining room were either above the retirement age or a few young mothers with very young children.
"I think it's nice. I could get used to starting the work week like this."
That made Barbara chuckle. "So, what are you working on, now?"
"Mmm," April held up a finger as she finished the morsel in her mouth. "I've got two projects going, right now. I'm working with a firm in Indianapolis that is doing this really cool building that's almost an inverted triangle and I'm also working with a firm in Indonesia that's building a project that's completely environmentally efficient, but will look really similar to the traditional buildings in its area. They're both really cool projects."
"And you do what for them?"
"I'm a kind of liaison between the creative people and the engineers. I understand what the creatives want and how the practicals need to turn that into blueprints for the construction people. Basically, I'm an interpreter between all the factions."
'That's so cool," Barbara shook her head, impressed. "You must have been all over the world."
April bobbed her head from side to side and nibbled on a strawberry. "I've been to a lot of places, but I do most of my work from my desk in my condo up in Providence. Lots of emails and Zoom meetings, you know. I love the challenges, but I need to set up a schedule that actually gets me out of the house and makes me interact with other human beings."
Barbara laughed. "I get that. I can bury myself in my workshop and go days at a time without seeing anyone."
April put her fork down and looked at her friend. "You look good, Barbie. Happy."
She thought about that before answering. "I am happy... to a point. I mean... I love my job and all of its challenges, but... I've been pretty lonely. Oh, I have Annie, my friend across the street from my house, and of course, Quinny, but... but... I really miss you, April. Thank you for meeting with me."
April nodded and thought for a moment. "I missed you, too, Barbie, but I don't want to be put into your closet, ok?"
That really surprised, Barbara. "My closet?"
"Barbie, you left me because you couldn't handle the embarrassment of being a lesbian. If we are going to be a couple, then we need to be a couple all the way. A couple that introduce each other as 'my girlfriend,' not 'my friend.' That means that I meet your friends and..."
"My mother?" Barbara sighed.
April nodded.
The big sigh that came out of Barbara's mouth was louder than she'd intended. "Ok. Let's finish breakfast, then I'll give you a private tour of Golden Bluffs. Then... we'll go meet 'Mommy Dearest.'"
The beach was long and, this early in the summer, there weren't a lot of people. Throughout the morning and early afternoon, two or three sisters at a time would take a long walk down the sands to stretch their legs and look at whatever the coast had to offer. Hermit crabs were abundant, as were pretty stones that the waters had polished and shells in all colors and shapes.
Without the support of an actual corset, Quinn was a bit nervous about taking too long a walk. He didn't want to get too far down the beach and not have the stamina to make the walk back. So, mostly he enjoyed the sun and sand with the occasional wade into the cool water of the North Atlantic.
More than one person commented on how cute they all looked with their hair in braids. Even though all of the sisters shared the same dirty blonde hair color while Quinn's dark red was noticeably different, anyone that spoke to them assumed that they were all sisters and Quinn was thrilled that all eight of Ricky's siblings readily confirmed that they were.
Around one in the afternoon, Alice and Beatrice announced that it was time for lunch. They decided to get five orders of burgers and fries and split them amongst themselves. "We'll have a big dinner somewhere on the way back," Alice announced with maternal finality. "Besides, we have lots of snacks with us if anyone is still hungry."
Bea held up a debit card. "Who wants to go get the food?"
Typically, this question would be greeted with silence, but Fiona quickly agreed to take care of it. "Quinn and I will handle it. Do we need drinks?"
Alice shook her head. "We've got plenty in the coolers."
Fiona extended a hand to Quinn. "Come on, Quinn. It's time that you found out what being one of the Briggs sisters is really like. If your not one of the oldest three, you have to wait on them."
"Hey!" Cathy called, without sitting up, or even opening her eyes. "What did I do? I was the chauffeur today, remember?"
Fiona just smiled and bobbed her head towards the beach house and led Quinn in that direction.
There were only a couple of people in line, so they quickly reached the window. Fiona ordered five burgers with fries and ketchup on the side.
"You're number 629," the girl in the window told her. "Ten or twelve minutes."
"Thanks," Fiona smiled and she led Quinn to the far end of the deck area.
When she was sure that they were alone, Fiona took a deep breath and said, "I don't want to ruin your day, or anything, but I'd really like you to know about... well, what I said the other day. About me not being a 'full' woman. I only said it that way because some idiot doctor said it to my mom that way and I overheard him."
She went on to give Quinn a quick, but detailed account of her diagnosis, her surgery and how it had impacted her life since. It was a lot to take in, but Quinn was touched that she'd chosen to share it.
"Fi," Quinn looked for the correct words, "I... I'm so sorry that you went through all that, but you don't seriously think that actually makes you any less of a woman, do you?"
"I don't know," Fiona squinted at Quinn in the bright sunlight. "Do you? Im not talking about me - I mean, but do you think of yourself as less than a woman?"
"Well... you do understand that I was not... born... female, right?"
"Of course I do. So what? I mean, you were born a boy and I was born a girl, then things changed. Now, we're both women who have some peculiar issues to deal with. We're still women, though, right?"
Fiona stood about two inches taller than Quinn and seemed incredibly well adjusted to pretty much everything. She was a wonder to Quinn. The problem was - was Quinn really a woman?
"Fi... you are, unquestionably, a woman and anyone who says otherwise is a moron. As for me...?" He took a deep breath and thought. "Fi... I've had a lot to deal with and the whole idea of being a woman is very new to me. I mean, yeah, I plan to live my life this way and I hope that I can live it with Ricky and all you guys, but... Am I really a woman? I really don't know."
"What does your heart tell you?" Fiona touched Quinn's shoulder and the simple gesture seemed to offer Quinn friendship, sisterhood, understanding, and above all - courage. It was at this point that he realized that Fiona was truly his sister. She'd been through a different hell and back, but she truly did seem to understand what he was going through.
"My heart tells me that I'm a woman."
Fiona nodded. "End of discussion, then."
"Fi..." Quinn seemed less confident on his next point. "...I think I need to tell your sisters the truth. I feel like it is the right thing to do."
Fiona nodded, again. "I understand that, but it is entirely your decision. I'll never tell them unless you do and, to be honest, it's none of their business."
"Yeah, but you found out about it. Didn't it bother you that you hadn't heard it from me?"
"No. See, I heard about the accident and I was curious. I didn't realize how bad it had been. I shouldn't have Googled it and I really regret that I did. When I told you I knew, I was kind of apologizing for being so nosy. I shouldn't have been."
"The accident..." Quinn mused over that word for a moment. "Fi... so far, my life seems to be split into three parts. Before the accident, the recovery and now this new life."
"I can understand that."
"But... before the accident, I was just a normal boy. I was... invincible, you know. Nothing had ever really hurt me. I had a nice family, two great parents, an older sister who was kind of distant because she was so much older than me, an older brother who taught me how to climb trees and play video games... you know... just... normal."
Fiona waited for Quinn to continue. Whatever he had to say, obviously needed to be said.
"Then, after a really fun day at an amusement park, I fell asleep in the car on the way home. I woke up four days later to find out that I had a whole different life. No mom, no dad, no Tony and I couldn't move my legs, by back or my left hand. I could barely move my right hand and it couldn't hold anything. I'd gone from normal to an invalid without any warning whatsoever. Just - 'Oh, you're awake. By the way, most of your family is dead, your sister is at their funeral right now, and, oh yeah, you may never walk again and even if you try, you may well be dead in a month or two, anyway.' I was fourteen years old, Fi. I didn't think I'd ever be fifteen or sixteen, let alone twenty one."
Fiona tried hard to keep it from happening, but her eyes were welling up with tears. She couldn't cry, though. If she did, Quinn would stop and this was obviously what Quinn needed right now.
He shook his head and continued. "I'm not even sure what drove me to work so hard to get through everything. I guess I just wanted to get well so Annie wouldn't have to give up her whole life taking care of me forever."
"Anyway, the first time I ever put a dress on was a couple of weeks ago, and... I changed. I swear, the minute I saw myself as Louisa Harper, my whole world changed. I knew her story and how much she'd achieved and I felt like, somehow, I had become her. Like - her if she were alive today - not her in the nineteenth century. Barbara and Annie didn't seem to see anything odd about it, in fact they both helped me, so I guess I didn't see any harm in it either, but then..."
When Quinn remained quiet, Fiona helped. "You met Ricky."
He nodded. "I met Ricky. The moment I laid eyes on him, my whole world changed. I didn't want to be Louisa. I wanted to be Quinn. Just Quinn. A girl that he would fall in love with."
Fiona smiled. "Well, congratulations. It worked. He's in love with you, Quinn. No matter what your DNA says, he's in love with a girl named Quinn."
Quinn nodded. "And I love him and... I love you guys, too. I can't lie to you and your sisters."
Fiona hugged Quinn. "OUR sisters, Quinn. We love you, too, just like you're one of us. I promise you, in time Cathy will be just as rude to you as she was to Bella this morning because that's how she is - she's bossy to all of us. Alice is already mothering you, look at your hair, for heaven's sake! And your swim suit! I promise you - if you tell them your story, they will understand and still love you like a sister."
Quinn gave a small smile. "Ok, then. I will find the opportunity to tell them today. I'll start with the accident and then tell them the rest after they've digested the first story."
"Ok." Fiona patted the braids on Quinn's head. "You look good as a Briggs-girl. We're not about to let you go. I'll be beside you when you tell them, if you want. I'll even hold your hand if it'll help."
Now, it was Quinn's turn to hug Fiona. "Thank you, Fi. It will help a lot."
"Hey!" A teenaged voice called. It sounded a little irritated. "Are you number 629?"
Fiona looked at her receipt. "Oh... yes."
"Your order is ready. Sorry to break up you 'bonding time' with your sister, but I've already called your number three times."
"Oops! Sorry!" Fiona took Quinn's hand and they headed back to the window.
As they headed back to the sand, Fiona whispered, "You don't have to rush things and you don't have to say anything at all if you don't want to, but just remember that we're not going anywhere. You're a Briggs, now. Nothing will change that."
From 'The Autobiography of Miss Louisa Harper of New York and Newport'
~ "The trees were turning bright red and yellow and both Miranda and I knew that we'd need to return to New York City, soon. We had been enjoying our independence at Golden Bluffs, though. Surprisingly, Miranda had taken an interest in my charitable endeavors. She had an unexpected talent for seeing the solutions to unsolvable problems. Being the wife, even if she was just a token wife, of a powerful man gave her access to people that would never consider responding to a note or a telegram from a fifteen year old debutant who had little or no social standing. The result being that, even though many businessmen viewed my undertaking as a foolish indulgence of my father and Langdon, because of Miranda's interventions, their wives viewed them as exciting and noble.
"Excuse me, Miss Louisa," our butler, Williams, appeared from nowhere, as he typically did, in the small bedroom that I had converted into an office, "you have a telegram from Berlin."
I was surprised and asked, "Berlin... Germany?"
"Yes, Miss," he confirmed. "From Mister Samuel Clemens, Miss."
I looked at Miranda, shocked. "Samuel Langhorne Clemens?" Miranda asked. "Mark Twain?"
Williams smiled, just a little bit. "Yes, ma'm. I believe so."
"Well, read it, Williams!" Miranda stood, expectantly.
Williams looked at me. "May I, Miss?"
"Yes, please."
He opened the pale yellow envelope and removed the matching pale yellow telegram and read.
"To: Miss Louisa Harper, Golden Bluffs Estate, Newport, Rhode Island, USA.
From: Samuel Clemens, Hotel Bristol, Uter bin Linden, Berlin, Germany
Dearest Miss Harper (stop)
Am on tour of Europe (stop)
Heard of your work in NYC (stop)
Impressed (stop)
Please contact my rep in Hartford regarding support (stop)
I wrote of our age that the gilded surface hides the cheapness of the metal underneath (stop)
Your metal is pure gold Miss Harper (stop)
Deepest Regards (stop)
S Clemens
When I could breathe again, I looked at my sister and smiled. "My goodness," I breathed.
"Wait a minute," Grace held up her hands in disbelief, "you're saying that you just woke up in the hospital, your mom, your dad and your brother had died and you were paralyzed?"
Quinn nodded. "Yeah. That's how it was for me. Of course, for Annie, it was worse. She had to deal with all of the arrangements for the funeral and the burials, and all that stuff."
"YOU were paralyzed and you say that it was worse for your sister?" Isabella mimicked her sister's shock. "What happened then? Who took care of you? How did you start walking again?"
He shrugged. "I was in the hospital for a few months. I had a couple of surgeries and I was able to use my arms and hands, but I still couldn't walk. Our insurance would only pay for me to be in a pretty sketchy rehab hospital. I was supposed to get physical therapy every day, but it wasn't consistent and I hardly ever saw the same therapist twice. It was pretty horrible. I didn't tell Annie how bad it was, but she figured it out and she quit the doctoral program she was in to take a job at a school near our house with good insurance so she could take care of me. I moved home and had nurses and therapists come there. I did better after that, but it wasn't until I'd had a couple more surgeries that I started being able to feel my lower body and begin trying to walk."
"When was that?" Beatrice asked.
"About eighteen months ago," Quinn said after calculating the time since he first stood upright on his own.
"Geez, you're a superhero," Hannah said.
That made Quinn laugh. "That's what Ricky said, too."
"That is horrible," Alice shook her head in her maternal way. "I am so sorry that you had to go through all of that, Quinn, but I'm so glad that you're ok, now."
All the other sisters mumbled their agreement.
Just as Quinn was about to continue, a woman in her early forties and a girl of approximately eleven or twelve years old stopped by the little encampment that Quinn and the sisters had constructed on the beach.
"Excuse me," the woman smiled as she spoke. "My daughter and I have been sitting just over there and we've seen you all throughout the day and... we'll I don't want to be rude, but... would you mind if my daughter asks a quick question?"
Cathy immediately became the family spokesperson. "No, that's fine. What's your question, hon?"
The young woman blushed a little. "Go ahead, Rachel," the woman encouraged.
"Umm... Are you all sisters?" The girl asked.
Before Quinn could speak, Cathy jumped right with an answer. "Yes we are. All nine of us. Would you like to guess who's the oldest and who's the youngest?"
The girl looked around then pointed at Beatrice. "You're the oldest."
Bea laughed. "Close. Actually, I'm number two." She pointed at Alice. "My sister Alice is just a little older than me, but I'm the most mature."
Some of the sisters groaned at that.
"Who do you think is youngest?" Alice asked.
The girl gave her choice a lot of thought before pointing at Quinn. "I think you're the youngest."
Quinn was about to correct her, but he was interrupted by Ellen, Fiona, Grace, Hannah and Isabella who all confirmed that the girl was correct.
"So, what's the age span?" The woman asked.
"We're twins," Alice explained, indicating Beatrice and herself. "We're twenty four."
"And Quinn's the youngest," Ellen said, quickly.
"She's fifteen," Isabella offered, using the age of Quinn's alter-ego, Louisa Harper, as her guide.
Quinn looked at the youngest sister, about to correct what had been said, but instead, he just smiled.
"Well, you're all just beautiful," the woman said, causing all of them to thank her. "And it's so nice to see sisters getting along so well. Rachel, here, just has one brother and they fight like cats and dogs."
"We have a brother, too," Cathy laughed, "but he's not allowed to participate in our sister-days."
"It's a sister thing," Alice winked at the girl. "Maybe, someday, you'll have a sister, too."
The woman laughed. "Yeah, well, not much chance of that. It's was nice speaking to you girls. Thank you for being so sweet. You all look beautiful. I love the braids."
When the woman and girl had left, the sisters all smiled at each other and Isabella raised her hands in victory. "Woo hoo! They didn't guess I was the youngest. That was a first! Sorry, Quinn. You don't mind, do you?"
"No, I don't mind," Quinn shrugged, a little confused. "Does this kind of thing happen a lot?"
"All the time," Fiona laughed. "It's bad enough that mom used to make us all dress and do our hair the same when we were kids, but now we have 'Momma-Alice' making us do it again on these sister days."
"Oh, stop it," Alice smiled. "You all love it."
Cathy laughed, too. "It is pretty cool to be part of a big family." She looked at Quinn and smiled. "We hope you feel the same way."
Quinn looked as if he might cry. He nodded and looked around the beach, making sure that there was no one too close to them. "Umm... look... you guys... you've all been so nice and welcoming to me, but... I need to tell you something else about me."
Fiona looked around at her sisters and instantly knew that the others had no idea what Quinn was about to say. "You know, Quinn, you've shared an awful lot with us today. If you'd rather put this off till another time..."
Quinn shook his head. "No. It's ok. I really, really want to be part of your family, but I need to be honest with you about something really important."
"Very nice to finally meet you, Mrs Jenkins," April smiled and extended her hand to Barbara's mother.
Carolyn forced a smile and shook the woman's hand. She nodded, but didn't say anything, instead, taking in this woman that Barbara had brought home. There was no denying that April was an attractive thing. Very short cropped hair in a style that was very professional looking on dark skinned women, smooth, well moisturized cheeks, immaculate makeup, plump, red lips, strong shoulders, toned arms, firm breasts under an expensive, form fitting Asian-inspired, silk dress that hugged her hips and revealed lovely knees and calves. Three inch Italian pumps that must have cost eight or nine hundred dollars or more adorned her feet.
All in all, April was - a gorgeous woman.
But - She was a woman and not the appropriate choice of romantic partner for Carolyn's daughter. To be very frank, even if April were a man, Carolyn would have had reservations about Barbara engaging in a relationship with someone of April's race. Carolyn, of course, was not prejudiced in anyway. Hell, she'd even worked as a volunteer on one a Barrack Obama's campaigns.
No, she had no problem with mixed-race couples, per se, but the rest of the world was not as open minded as Carolyn and dating a person of African heritage... would be difficult for Barbara under normal circumstances. Engaging in a LESBIAN relationship with one - well, that was just ridiculous.
This was just a fad. Barbara might be experimenting, or maybe she was just bringing April home as some kind of punishment for Carolyn. A means of punishing her mother for criticizing Quinn's perverted choices.
Yes.
That was probably it. Barbara was just being an immature little brat and punishing her mother.
"Say 'hello' to April, mom," Barbara said, stress evident in her voice.
"Hello, April," Carolyn said with a judgmental glare. "I understand that you and Barbara were friends in college?"
April smiled more broadly and glanced at Barbara. "Yes. Barbara and I were inseparable at RISD."
Carolyn nodded. "And what do you do for work, now?"
"I'm an architect. Well, an architectural Consultant, actually."
"Consultant?" Carolyn smirked just a bit. "Meaning that you don't have a full time job?"
April laughed. "I assure you, I work much more than 'full time' hours."
"April works with some of the most famous architects in the world, mom," Barbara explained. "A lot of times, these big shot building designers come up with ideas that seem brilliant, but they can't figure out the engineering to make it work in real life. That's when they call on April to figure it all out. She's helped to build buildings all over the world."
Carolyn's eyebrows were raised. Possibly she was impressed, possibly she was being facetious. "That's very impressive for someone so young, let alone a woman of..."
"Of color?" April asked when Carolyn seemed to have run out of words.
Carolyn blinked and looked at Barbara. "Well, you two have a good evening. It was nice to meet you, April." She turned and started to leave the room.
Disgusted, Barbara turned to leave and quietly said to April, "Let's go."
April didn't move, though. "What is it that you don't like about me, Mrs Jenkins? The fact that I'm dating your daughter, or the fact that I'm black?"
Carolyn turned back to her and with a look of superiority said, "What bothers me, April, is that my daughter is throwing away her life by indulging in a trend..."
"A trend?" April asked, but Carolyn pushed on.
"Yes, a trend. Suddenly being gay, or being a lesbian, or being queer, or whatever the hell you want to call it, suddenly that's the new, trendy way to be. Well, I still see it as perversion."
"Perversion!?" April was appalled. "You call affection perversion? You call love perversion? You call your daughter a pervert!?"
"I do, yes," Carolyn took a stand. "In this case, yes, I do. Barbara, you know that this isn't really you. You know that this is not who you truly are."
"Mom," Barbara grunted, "just knock it off. You are being rude and ignorant and it's not only embarrassing, it's insulting to both April and me."
"Well, I'm sorry, Barbara, but that's how I feel about all this nonsense." Carolyn had dug in and was not moving on this point.
Barbara's ire was rising and she was about to let loose with an emotional attack, but April put her arm around Barbara's shoulder and spoke with calm confidence. "Mrs Jenkins... your attitude is not only petty and old fashioned, it is harmful. Not harmful to me, though, or to Barbie for that matter, but to you."
"To me?"
April nodded. "You're not a young woman Mrs Jenkins. If you start burning bridges at this point in your life, you won't have enough time to rebuild them before you find yourself alone and wondering what happened to the life you planned. Do you know why Barbie left me in our senior year? Because she knew that you would behave this way and she loved you too much to hurt you. What a waste. If only she'd known that you had no problem hurting her, then maybe we could have been happy together earlier. You have a good evening, as well, Mrs Jenkins."
"Oh, my favorite part of summer is corn on the cob!" Ann wiped her lips, only a little embarrassed by the smear of butter that had moments earlier adorned her lips.
John smiled at the beautiful woman across the table from him. "The steaks are pretty darned good, too. Here," he poured a little more red wine into Ann's glass, "have a little more wine."
"Are you trying to get me drunk, air?"
John's smile broadened. "No." He just stared at her for a moment. "You're far too smart and too beautiful to spoil by getting you drunk." He reached across and took her hand in his, kissed it and looked into her eyes. "You're happy, right? I mean, happy about everything that's happened recently. Me proposing and all?"
Ann pulled his hand towards her and kissed it in return. "I am very happy, John. I love that you came back into my life. I love that we're together. I love that we're always going to be together and I love that you got out of bed, went shopping, assembled a grill and made me the best meal I've had in years. Yes, John. I'm very happy."
"Good, because I am too."
There were a few moments of silence among the Briggs girls when Quinn finished his story. Finally, Ellen spoke. "So... is this the reason that you and Ricky kind of broke up for a couple of days?"
Quinn nodded.
"And you and Ricky are both ok with all of this?" Cathy asked.
He nodded again.
"Ok, then," Grace said with a shrug, "I guess that's all there is to it, then."
"It was very brave of you to be this honest with us, Quinn," Alice said. "Thank you for trusting us."
Quinn blinked and looked at the girls. "So... what I just told you doesn't upset any of you?"
The sisters glanced at each other and shook their heads.
Beatrice took Quinn's hand. "Quinn, it's not the twentieth century, you know. We all have trans friends. I mean, you are pretty natural looking, so I don't think that any of us really suspected anything, but it's not as big a deal as you seem to think it might be. We still love both you and Ricky and none of what you've told us is going to change that."
"Wait a minute," Alice smiled and looked at Fiona. "You knew about this, didn't you. This is what you were helping Quinn hide in her bathing suit, isn't it?"
Fiona glanced at Quinn, then nodded.
Alice looked at Quinn. "It seems that when I guessed that Fi's concerns about you were based in reproductive issues, I was... in an odd way... correct."
Quinn nodded, but looked around at the eight young women around him. "I can't believe you're all so relaxed about this. I thought you'd freak out and make me walk home or something."
"A lot has changed since you last went to school, Quinn," Cathy rubbed Quinn's shoulder as she spoke. "We understand that this is a huge discovery for you - I mean, finding yourself and your true sexuality - but we're not shocked by it. We're just happy that you've found yourself and that you and Ricky found each other."
"What about your mom and your grandfather?" He asked. "What will they say?"
Alice and Bea looked at each other and shrugged. Alice spoke first. "Mom...? Well... I wouldn't be surprised if she already knew. You should probably find out now - Ricky is a bit of a momma's boy, so I wouldn't be shocked if he confided in her. No matter what, though - she'll be ok with it."
"As for grandpa," Bea said, "I don't think he'll even blink twice about it."
"He already knows," Fiona said, quietly.
"He knows?" Quinn was very surprised.
Fiona nodded. "I overheard him talking to Ricky about it. I wasn't eavesdropping, I just heard a little and then, after I found out, I talked to grandpa, too." She looked at Quinn. "Actually, he was driving on the highway the night or your accident and he saw you being pulled from the car."
Quinn didn't know how to feel about that. He did gasp a bit, though. "Oh, God." He thought about what it must be like for a man that old to have to deal with all of this issues, but it was all too confusing to get his head around. "And he doesn't hate me for being a boy?"
Fiona smiled and touched Quinn's knee. "He says you're a miracle. A bonafide miracle and he says that if he ever doubted that God existed, then the fact that you survived and brought his grandson joy is more than enough proof for him."
"He said that?" Quinn was shocked.
"Those exact words."
"Thank you for picking me up, Ricky. Your grandfather had an eye doctor appointment and I really needed to get my brakes done."
"No problem, mom," Ricky replied as he pulled out into traffic.
"So..." his mother looked at him a bit sideways and saw that there was something different about him. "...this girl you're dating? Is it serious?"
He raised his eye brows and bobbed his head from side to side for a moment. "It might be, mom. I really, really like her."
"Well, she seems very nice. Your sisters certainly seem to like her - Bill, too. I'd like to get to know her better, Ricky. You should bring her by for dinner some night."
Ricky chuckled. "Mom, we've only been dating a few weeks. I'm not sure that she's ready for dinner at our house. Nine women and two men all reaching across the table trying to grab enough food to survive while everyone's talking at the top of their lungs."
"Oh, we're not that bad," she laughed, but knew he had a point.
"Yeah, we are, mom and besides, she comes from a small family. Well, it used to be five of them but her parents and brother passed away after the accident. So, for almost a decade it's just been Quinn and her sister. I think a Briggs family meal might be a little overwhelming at this point."
"Well, maybe we could take you and Quinn out to dinner sometime. You know... you and Quinn and Grandpa Bill and me. We could go someplace quiet and get to know each other. How about Wednesday night? I'll call that nice Italian place in Jamestown. That's about halfway between our place and hers. What do you say?"
Ricky slowed to a stop at a red light and looked at his mother. "Was this whole thing a ploy to set up this date with me and Quinn?"
She scowled at her son. "Of course not. I needed to get my brakes done."
"And does Grandpa Bill really have an eye doctor's appointment?"
His mother let a small smile show. "Yes, he does, but... well, to be perfectly honest, I did schedule my car service at the same time as his appointment so that I could have a few minutes to talk to you about Quinn."
He looked at his mother and waited for her to continue.
She sighed. "Ricky, you're only twenty one years old. You're sure of your decisions regarding Quinn, right?"
He shook his head and pulled ahead when the light went green. "Mom... I didn't DECIDE to meet Quinn and fall for her. It just happened and I'm really happy that it did. Besides, by the time you were my age, you already had gotten married and had Alice and Beatrice and you were expecting Cathy..."
"And I should be a lesson to all of you kids, too," she interrupted. "Ricky, I didn't plan. I didn't think ahead. I didn't think past pleasing your father and look what it got me!"
"It got you a family who loves you, mom."
"It got me failure, Ricky. A failed marriage. No career. Dependent on my father-in-law - the father of the man who deserted me, Ricky! That's what it got me. Now, use your head. Make sure you don't throw the opportunity to have a happy, successful life on a girl you barely know, who just happened to wander into your dance class one night."
"Mom, come on! I'm not talking about getting married right away..."
"That's good Ricky. Between her recovery and her... issues, well... I'm just concerned that she might be more than you can handle at this age. Just give yourselves some time to get to know each other and make sure that her baggage isn't more than you can handle."
Ricky looked at her, and he felt a bit more anger than he wanted to feel towards his mother. She'd always been a bit flighty and had a tendency to blow hot or cold from one conversation to the next, but he really didn't like where she was headed right now.
"Mom... Number One: You are not a failure. You are a very successful woman. You raised nine kids who love you and that's a hell of an achievement."
"I know, Ricky, but that's not what I meant. You're my only son and I just..."
"I know what you meant, mom, but let me continue. Number Two: The day I met Quinn was not the day my life became more complicated. It's the day my life became better and the life that I wanted became clearer. Yes, I understand that she's not perfect, but neither am I. I know that life with Quinn will be complicated, but what is life without challenges? Mom - I love her and she loves me and that is all there is to discuss."
"I know Ricky, but..."
He pulled up in front of their house and stopped the car. "No, mom. No buts. I think, maybe, we shouldn't discuss Quinn until you get to know her better, ok? Let's do that dinner and then, after you've had a little time to get to know her, we can talk, again. Till then... well... let's not discuss my relationship. Ok?"
His mother opened the car and looked back at her son. "Ok. I'm just trying to be a good mom, Ricky."
"I know, mom, but it's not your place to deal with this particular aspect of my life. In fact - let's call this part of my life 'off limits,' ok?"
She nodded her head. "Ok."
"I'll be back to pick you up in a few hours, ok?" Ricky said, hoping to end the conversation on a happier note.
"Ok. See you then."
"Wait... there aren't any stalls?" Quinn asked as the Briggs girls began disrobing in the changing area in the building that housed the lavatories and snack bar at the public beach in West Dennis, Massachusetts.
"There are some in the lavs next door," Fiona offered, "but don't worry. It's just us. No one will come in with all of us changing. Hannah, when you're all dressed, just guard the door, ok?"
"Sure," Hannah replied as she began buttoning up here romper.
"But..." Quinn was a little nonplused by the situation. "Maybe, I'll just keep my swim suit on and put on the romper on top."
"Don't be silly," Alice chided. "You need your corset. Tell you what, turn your back to us and drop your swim suit top to your hips. I'll help you get the corset on. Once that's all set, Fi and I will hold up a blanket and cover you while you put on your panties. Then the romper will go on in a heartbeat. Ok?"
Not seeing a lot of alternatives, Quinn nodded. "Alright."
There was a lot of chatter from the sisters.
"We're getting ice cream on the way home, right?"
"Yeah, that place in Hyannis is great. Let's go there!"
"Can we get a sandwich someplace?"
"Let's get something to eat closer to home. We want to beat the traffic before the bridges over the canal back up"
Quinn carefully laid out what he'd need for clothing, the corset, the panties and the romper, on the bench. When Alice asked if he was ready, Quinn nodded and pulled the straps from his shoulders and lowered the top of the suit to his hips. He'd only just noticed that the room had gotten quieter when he heard Cathy mutter, "Holy shit."
Quinn looked over his shoulder and realized that they were all staring at his back. He quickly started to pull the suit back up, but Alice stopped him. "No, honey. It's just startling. They'll get used to it. I'm sorry."
"What the hell is wrong with you, Cathy!?" Fiona snapped.
Cathy had not actually realized that she'd said anything. "What? Oh... Quinn... I'm so sorry... it's just... I guess I just didn't expect that you'd... I mean that it'd be... I mean... I'm sorry." She came forward and hugged Quinn from behind, laying her cheek on the top of his head for a moment. "God almighty, Quinn, you really are amazing. I'm sorry I reacted, but you should never be embarrassed. Each of those scars show how powerful you really are."
Quinn sniffled a little. "I'm sorry. I forget how grotesque my back is sometimes and I start to think that I'm normal. Imagine that: me thinking I'm normal."
Fiona joined Cathy's hug. "Don't say things like that, Quinn. We're all sorry. It's just that we suddenly realized how badly you were hurt and... well... you're our sister, now, and when we realized how much you've suffered... I guess we felt some of that pain, too. You are just the same as us, Quinn, and we don't want you to be hurt."
"She's right," Alice said, touching Quinn's shoulder. "This is you, Quinn. Quinn is a strong, scarred woman and we are as proud to have you as our sister as we can be."
Quinn's head was still bowed, but he raised it and looked at Alice. "Thank you. And thank you all for accepting me so lovingly." Then he smiled, just a little. "This is a lot of pressure, though. What if Ricky and I break up."
"Screw Ricky," Isabella said. "We like you better than we like him."
That made everyone laugh.
"Come on," Alice picked up the corset. "Let's get you dressed."
"So, how is Barbara doing?"
"Well, if you'd asked me a couple of days ago, I would have said that she was doing very well," Carolyn Jenkins explained to her friend, Eve. "After the last couple of days, though..." she waved her right hand to indicate that she had no idea what was happening with her daughter.
"Why?" Eve asked as her baked haddock dinner was placed on the table by the waitress. "Is she ok?"
"Oh, she's fine," Carolyn shook her head. "Apparently, she's a lesbian, now, though."
"What?" Carolyn's dinner companion laughed. "Since when? Didn't she have a fiancé in college?"
"She did and we never met - until today. Her fiancé is a black woman named April."
"My, oh my," Eve said, a bit amused. "I gather it was a tense meeting, then?"
Carolyn shrugged. "I just don't understand this generation, Eve. Yes, we had our fads and trends, but nowadays it's different. For us, it was dying our hair or wearing gawd-awful, ugly clothes to irritate our parents. For young people today, it's - today you're straight and tomorrow you're gay. Hell, the boy across the street from us is now a girl and has a boyfriend, for crying out loud."
"You're kidding?" Eve seemed just as shocked as Carolyn had intended.
"No, I'm serious. Of course, that was Barbara's doing as well. Mine, too, I guess. See, the girl who played Louisa Harper for the past few years at the estate had an opportunity to be on a TV show and left us flat just a few days before the season started. Quinn, that's the boy's name, was the right size for Louisa's costumes and Barbara convinced him to take on the role."
"You didn't try to stop her?"
"I would have if I'd foreseen how far things would go," Carolyn shook her head. "The truth is, the boy is a remarkably good Louisa. The guests adore him and he knows absolutely everything about the Harper family. It all just escalated very quickly and now... Now, the boy is a girl, the girl has a boyfriend, my daughter is a lesbian and she has a girlfriend. The world has gone absolutely insane, Eve. Absolutely insane."
'DON'T WORRY ABOUT YOUR MOM. I'LL TAKE HER TO PICK UP HER CAR.'
Ricky read the text from his grandfather and immediately felt relieved.
'THANKS, GRANDPA. IS SHE STILL UPSET ABOUT WHAT HAPPENED EARLIER?'
It took a few minutes before Bill responded.
'PROBABLY. SHE WAS REALLY WOUND UP WHEN I GOT HOME. DON'T WORRY, CHAMP. WE'LL MAKE HER SEE THE LIGHT.'
Ricky snickered at that. Good old Grandpa Bill. Always the optimist. 'THANKS, GRANDPA. I SURE HOPE SO.'
He checked his watch. It was only seven thirty. He really didn't want to be alone. He took stock of his options. Quinn wasn't available and neither were any of his sisters. That was the sum total of all of his confidants. He liked Annie and her fiancé, John and it seemed like they were both pretty sympathetic to Quinn's situation, but it was kind of late to barge in on them.
So, that left Joe, who was working. At least he was working until nine. So, why not head to Newport and drop into the Creamery to see if Joe might want to hang out after work? Not a great plan, but at least it was something to keep him busy. Even if Joe didn't want to hang out, the ride to and from Newport would kill some time.
"Holy cow, it looks like a bus just pulled up," one of the waitresses groaned.
"Cripes, what is this? Attack of The Clones? They all look identical!"
Of course, they didn't look 'identical,' just similar. They all wore very short rompers that had similar floral patterns, but with different flowers featured on each. They also all wore very neat braids in an identical style.
The restaurant was empty. It was Monday night, after all and they would be closing in a little over an hour.
The happy group of nine young women entered the restaurant, filling it with boisterous conversation and laughter.
"Sit anywhere you'd like," the first waitress told them.
They sat in two booths to the side, five girls in one and four in the other.
The waitress placed the appropriate number of menus at each table and asked, "Can I get you something to drink?"
The sisters were all well trained to let Alice be their spokesperson. "We'll have nine Diet Cokes, please. Oh, and we don't really need the menus. We'll have nine cheese burgers with fries. Please hold the pickles. Thank you."
The waitress nodded and picked up the menus before retreating. She looked around and said to the other waitress, "I think the cook is taking inventory in the fridge. Better tell him he has some cooking to do."
"I thought we'd eat someplace nicer," Ellen said, but she was smiling. "I suppose a burger is a burger, though, so what difference does it make?"
Hannah looked at Quinn and shook her head. "I hope you wanted a burger. I would have preferred a salad, but you see how much my opinion matters."
"Alright, alright," Beatrice held up her hands in a 'calm down' manner. "You know the road trip rules. We all eat the same so we can get served quickly."
"Yeah, but it's our second burger today," Hannah complained.
"Too bad," Beatrice shook her head. "Let's just enjoy the rest of the day."
"Did you have a good time, Quinn?" Fiona asked.
"I've had a great time," he admitted. "Thank you all - for everything, I mean."
"Hey, it's no big deal," Cathy said. "We're glad you had a good time."
"Oh, good God, it's the Briggs sisters!" Joe laughed as he returned to his station at the grill. "It's all eight of you at the same time! That's a pretty rare sighting."
"Hi, Joe," Cathy smiled at the young man, still a bit smitten with him.
"Hey, number three," he smiled.
"It's Cathy," Fiona corrected.
Joe smiled. He was a very handsome guy. "I know, Fiona. I know you all." He pointed as he spoke, "Alice, Beatrice, Catherine, Ellen, Fiona, Grace, Hannah and Isabella."
"That's amazing," Cathy said, impressed, perhaps a bit more than she should have been.
"But wait! What have we here?" Joe said, sounding like a detective in a bad movie. He pointed at Quinn. "Quinn, what have they done to you? They turned you into a Briggs clone!"
Quinn and the sisters all laughed. "Hi, Joe. How are you?"
"Well, I was great until a few minutes ago. The grill was clean and the inventory was done. Oh, well. I guess it's time to dirty up my nice clean grill if you guys want some food." His words sounded spiteful, but he was smiling and obviously just teasing.
Joe turned to go back to the grill, but stopped and turned to face them all, again. He leaned down and in a quiet voice, asked, "Hey, Cathy... can you give me a hand at the grill?"
Cathy seemed shocked. "Sure!"
She tried to get out of the seat, but Fiona and Beatrice sat between her and the aisle and Beatrice wasn't moving.
"Let me out," Cathy said.
"Hmm?" Bea looked confused.
"Let me out, please," Cathy said, again.
Beatrice looked at Quinn. "Did you hear something?"
"Come on," Cathy was getting peeved.
Beatrice didn't react at all. "So, what are you doing tomorrow, Quinn?"
"Come on, Bea, please!" Cathy was getting very anxious to join Joe at the grill.
Without turning her head, Beatrice said to no one in particular, "What do you suppose the Creamery's insurance company would say about a customer working the grill with an employee? I bet they wouldn't be very happy about it."
"Oh, for crying out loud!" Cathy groaned as she stepped onto the bench of the booth and climbed over the back into the vacant booth behind them and she headed to the grill, calling out behind her, "You're an asshole, Beatrice! An asshole!"
Everyone, all the sisters, Quinn, Joe and even the two waitresses laughed as Cathy hurried to join Joe.
"She's had a crush on him since the day that we dropped Ricky off at URI to start his freshman year," Beatrice explained with a slightly evil grin.
"Still, you could be a little nicer," Alice scolded, half heartedly.
Beatrice glanced at the grill area where Cathy and Joe were talking while Joe put hamburger patties on the grill's surface. "Oh, she loves it. Cathy's the biggest tease in the world. Every now and then, she appreciates getting teased in return."
Just then, they heard Joe call out, "Well, holy cow! The last member of the Briggs clan just walked through the door!"
Everyone turned to the entrance where Ricky was entering.
"How did you know we were here?" Isabella asked as Ricky pulled a chair over to the end of their booth.
"I didn't" he smiled. "I was just lonely and thought I'd come hang out with Joe. It's a Monday, so I figured things would be slow at this time of night. I didn't expect that there be this big a crowd." Then he looked at Quinn and smiled. "Hi."
"Hi," Quinn smiled back. They would have greeted each other with a kiss, but they were separated by Alice, who shared the bench with Quinn.
Ricky looked at the flowered romper that Quinn wore and the way that his hair had been braided just like all of his sisters. "I see that Alice turned you into a Briggs," he chuckled. "I'm not sure how I feel about that."
Alice looked at Quinn and then at Ricky. "Why?"
"Well, no offense," he smirked, "but, as much as I love all of you, I never wanted to date one of my sisters."
Tuesday was a quiet day at the Collins house. A little cleaning a little relaxing and lots of talking about Quinn's future. Ann was surprised that he had been doing a good deal of research about his options as a trans woman - therapy, hormones, surgery, etc. That was a good thing, though. If he was going to walk this path, then it was best that he did it with his eyes open.
On Wednesday morning, Barbara showed up at her usual time to take Quinn to work. "Did you have a good time with Ricky's sisters?" She asked as they drove the twenty minute commute to Golden Bluffs.
"I had a great time."
"And do they know?"
Quinn smiled. "They do. I told them while we were at the beach."
"And?"
"And they were very cool about it. They said they all knew trans people and that it made no difference to them."
Barbara looked at him with a big smile. "That's great, Quinny. I'm happy that they're so open minded."
As they approached Golden Bluffs, though, something was amiss.
"What's going on?" Barbara muttered.
There were a lot of people on the front lawn. "Maybe a tour group arrived early, or something," Quinn suggested, but there was something about the way that the people were milling about on the lawn that gave Barbara a sense of foreboding.
"No," she whispered as she looked at the people. "No. Something is going on here."
As Barbara turned into the driveway, she was suddenly gripped with both anger and fear as she saw the signs that the people on the lawn were carrying. "Oh, shit," she muttered and she accelerated into the employees only parking area.
The signs were very well painted and filled with hateful rhetoric. 'God hates fags.' 'Soldiers die for fags to live.' 'You're going to hell!' 'God hates fag enablers.'
"What's going on?" Quinn finally realized that all of these people had assembled here to profess their hatred of him and he felt a fear greater than he'd ever felt before.
All of a sudden, there were people running towards them to block their path. Some had signs, some were just trying to interfere with their progress, but all were wild with irrational, self righteous hatred. They were screaming hateful rhetoric and waving religious icons like flags.
Barbara sped up and pulled her car as close to the entrance to her workshop as possible. "Don't even look at them, Quinny. They won't touch you. These people know how to protest and they know they can't touch you or they'll be arrested. Just head straight into the shop. Don't stop. I'll be right behind you."
They both opened their doors and made their way into Golden Bluffs as quickly as possible. The surrounding crowd screamed hateful things at them as they hurried through the door.
The door had barely closed when Monica was running towards them. "Oh, my God, are you two alright?" She half screamed, then wrapped her arms around both Barbara and Quinn. "Those people are crazy!"
Barbara rounded her shoulders in determination and headed into her shop. "They are not going to get away with this," she grunted. "Who the hell do these people think they are? How did they even find out about this."
"You don't know?" Monica seemed shocked. "It was on the news last night at eleven and again this morning. At least it was on Fox News and they've been running it on their news channel ever since. My friends were calling me all night. The newscasters said that the staff of Golden Bluffs had defamed the memory of one of America's most important women by having a trans woman represent her."
"What!?" Barbara stopped in her tracks. "Who told them? How did they find out? You didn't even know!"
Monica looked at Quinn and shook her head. "I don't care, either, Quinn."
"Thanks," he whispered, overwhelmed by what was happening.
"Oh, God! The hypocrisy of those people! They demean women constantly, then jump to defend a woman who's been dead for seventy years when it suits their purpose!"
"I know," Monica agreed, not sure what else to say.
"Does my mother know, yet?" Barbara was reaching for the phone on her desk to call upstairs, but she stopped as she heard her mother's voice.
"Yes, she knows," Carolyn said, angrily. "She knows and she is not in the least bit happy about it." She looked disdainfully from Barbara to Quinn and back. "This is your fault - both of you - and you had better figure out how to deal with it - AND FAST! - or you will be responsible for the closing of Golden Bluffs."
To Be Continued...
On Becoming Miss Louisa Harper of New York and Newport - 10 Final
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of New York and Newport: 10 Final
finds more than he ever expected. I cannot thank you all enough for
sticking with this series. Your comments, emails and general support has
been inspiring. I hope you enjoy this chapter, the series finale.
Author's Note: If you do enjoy this chapter, please consider leaving me a review? I truly do appreciate them. ~Clara
This version of On Becoming Miss Louisa Harper of New York and Newport: 10 Final has been updated with many corrections towards spelling and grammar.~Sephrena.
Image Credit: Image created through the use of ai at https://perchance.org/beautiful-people .~Sephrena.
Chapter 10
From 'The Autobiography of Miss Louisa Harper of New York and Newport'
"It was truly amazing how quickly we were able to gather donations for 'Harper House,' as my enterprise came to be called. We started by acquiring and adapting a large, old place on the East Side which would eventually house approximately one hundred mothers and children. We then turned our attention to establishing a reliable means of feeding and clothing the residents once they arrived.
By the second week following our return to Manhattan, Father demanded that my 'offices' be removed from our townhouse as quickly as possible. With that in mind, Langdon found us a suite of offices two blocks from our home with a large 'partners desk' for Miranda and me to share and several smaller areas for the staff that we would need, eventually.
With the support of Mr Samuel Clemens and his friends, as well as the friends of both my mother and sister, we were nearly ready to open the doors of our first Harper House. Every day, our offices were abuzz with excited and generous women who were coming and going with checks from their husband's accounts and suggestions of how we could feed and clothe our soon to be tenants.
With the help of the wife of the owner of Delmonico's Restaurant, we found a farmer on Long Island who was willing to help us out with a discount on beef, chicken and vegetables. With the help of Mrs Astor, we found a charitable organization that already clothed the poor through donations. They were very happy to work with us as well.
The biggest problem was milk. Milk in the city was of a notoriously poor quality. Swill milk, milk from cows fed from the swill of breweries, was the most common and was a very poor excuse for a nourishing supplement. It was also not uncommon for the purveyors of swill milk to 'enhance' the quality of this beverage with everything from plaster dust to cow puss.
It was a cool Thursday morning in October, when I hired a carriage to take me to a farm in Harlem that had an excellent reputation for producing a high quality, wholesome product. It was my first unaccompanied trip and I was more than a bit nervous about being alone, but bound and determined to present myself as a mature and selfpossessed woman.
The owner, a Mister Sturdevant, was a very well spoken fellow who was justly proud of his farm and the food it produced. Once he became aware of our undertaking, he was eager to help. He offered us a small discount to start, but promised that he would reconsider his prices in a year if our partnership proved beneficial.
I was feeling very mature and powerful as my carriage pulled up in front of the building that housed our offices on 7th Avenue. I paid and tipped my driver and walked up the stairs, eager to tell Miranda of my victory, but even before I entered our offices, I could hear that something was happening inside. A man's voice was growling menacingly and Miranda's voice was harsh and scolding in response to each masculine growl.
When I opened the door, I was shocked to find the man had piled all of our files into boxes and our furniture into the center of the room. He was instructing two other, very large men, to remove everything.
The man turned and looked at me, disdainfully and barked, "Who are you?"
"These are my offices," I said with pretend bravado. "My name is Louisa Harper. MISS Louisa Harper Who are you?"
"I own this building," he shouted at me, "and I am not going to lease space in my building to a female - and a child at that. Find somewhere else to wile away your free time, young lady. This is a place of business - where MEN do business - and I will not allow a parade of silly females to interfere with the comings and going's of men with serious work to do."
My hackles were already raised as I stepped forward and grabbed a folder of paperwork from his hands. "'Silly women?'" I shouted. "'Serious work?' I am trying to help those less fortunate with the work we do in this office, sir, and I would appreciate it if you and your oxen leave this minute."
His smirk was more off putting than his frown had been. "Do you think that you have the right to speak to me that way, child? I guess that Mr Harper spared the rod with you, eh? Well let me be very clear, young Miss Harper, I have no compunction against putting you across my knee right this very minute and teaching you how to speak to your elders and your betters."
The blood in my face was boiling and I was about to spit directly in the face of this pig when we all heard a voice shout, "What on earth is going on here, Marguliese?"
When I turned, I was both relieved and a bit angered to see Langdon entering. Relieved that there was someone arriving who could speak rationally to the building owner, but angered that I was going to have to defer to a man to speak for me. Even if that man was Langdon, it was still demeaning.
Suddenly, the man's attitude changed. "Ahh, Mr Beech-Thorndyke. Very nice to see you, sir, but I do believe that we have a rather big problem."
Langdon shut the door behind him and strutted into the office. He put his hands in the pockets of his breeches, pushing his coat back. With his vest exposed, he looked much tougher than I'd ever seen. "And what is the nature of this problem, Marguliese?"
"Well, sir, you see, I do not rent to women, Mr Beech-Thorndyke, and you never informed me that this office would be used as a hen house for women to congregate in. So, I need to vacate this office immediately so that I may rent it to a man, sir." The man's growl had softened considerably.
"In fact, Marguliese, you do rent this space to a man - me. My name is on the lease and I am subletting to Miss Louisa Harper, one of two women designated to inherit the Harper Financial empire. There are no laws prohibiting me from doing so. You can go to City Hall and check, if you'd like. While you are there, perhaps you could stop into Mayor Grant's office and explain to him that you want to evict his protégé, Miss Louisa Harper, for no reason other than her unwillingness to be a man."
"Yes, Mr Beech-Thorndyke, but the issue is not just Miss Harper, sir. The problem is that this office is occupied by dozens women throughout the day, sir. Unchaperoned, unsupervised women, sir. It's just not right, sir, and some of the other tenants are complaining, you see."
"I see," Langdon smirked, then looked at me and winked. "May I speak to you in the main office, Marguliese? Out of the ear shot of the women. Man to man, as it were."
The building owner nodded. "Yes, of course, sir." Then he looked at the two burly men he'd brought with him and told them to wait. Then, he and Langdon retreated to the office - MY office - and closed the door.
For the next ten minutes or so, the two men chatted while Miranda and I waited impatiently in the reception area with the two overly muscled workers.
"Begging your pardon, Misses," one of the men said to us. "I just want to say that, well, I think that the work you're trying to do here is worthwhile. I'm sorry that we have to do this. It's our job, you see. Nothing personal."
I looked at Miranda, who forced a smile and said, "Well, thank you. That means a lot to us."
There was a silence until the men began talking to each other.
"It feels pretty personal," I muttered to my sister.
"Hush, Louisa," was her quiet response.
When, at last, Langdon and Marguliese emerged from the main office, the building owner tipped his hat to us saying, "Ladies," and headed to the door, motioning for his assistants to follow him.
When the door had closed, I looked at Lanny and shrugged. "So?"
He smiled a very self satisfied smile and said, "So - the office is yours."
Miranda and I exchanged confused looks. "And he will never interfere with our business again?"
His smiled broadened. "No, he will not. He has no reason to, Louisa, because YOU now own the building?"
"I..." I was flummoxed by his statement. "How can I possibly own this building?"
"I just bought it for you, my darling. Happy birthday."
Barely able to comprehend what he'd just said, I stuttered, "My birthday isn't until March."
"Well, then, Merry Christmas. Or just... Happy Thursday. The point is, the building is now yours to do with as you please."
Miranda shook her head. "Lanny, you are unbelievable. Louisa is only FIFTEEN. Even if she were a boy, she still could not legally own a building."
"Then I shall hold it in trust for her until she comes of age."
"Yes, Lanny, but she will still be a woman..."
Langdon wrapped his arms around me from behind and smiled at Miranda. "Then we must use the time we have between now and then to find a good lawyer to make it possible for a woman to own a property like this one. Honestly, Miranda, you have a terrible knack of over complicating things."
My sister scoffed at that, but her attitude was becoming more playful. "So, this is it, then? You and Louisa are going to change the world all by yourselves."
He winked and kissed my temple, a very brazen gesture for an unmarried couple. "That's the plan, Miranda, but not alone. We need your help, too."
"Hey, John, can I see you for a minute before you leave?"
"Yeah, sure, Chief," John nodded as he turned from the exit and headed into the office of The Chief of Police of Portsmouth, Rhode Island - a much more auspicious sounding title than the job deserved. Yes, the Chief had put in his time and learned the job from the ground up, but he only oversaw three full time police officers and five part timers. John, of course, was a part timer, but he had more hours during his summer hiatus from school than he normally had the rest of the year.
"What's up?" He asked as he entered the office. He'd just finished a ten hour, overnight shift and, although he wasn't all that sleepy, he was anxious to get back to the Collins' house to see Annie.
"Shut the door," the Chief didn't look up.
That caught John by surprise. "Sounds serious," he half-joked as he closed the door and waited to find out if he'd screwed up in some way.
The Chief sighed and nodded. "I'm assuming that you haven't been listening to the local news for the last few hours."
He shook his head. "No. Why?"
The Chief examined the tiles in the old drop-ceiling for a good few seconds before saying, "There's a big hubbub going on over in Newport. At Golden Bluffs."
John's skin tingled. "What's going on?"
"Well, it seems that someone let it leak to some far right wing website that Quinn Collins, the person representing America's first feminist, is a boy and that story made national news last night. Now, there's a slew of whacko zealots protesting on the lawn. So far, there's only been a few interactions, but you know what these people are like, John. It could get ugly down there."
"Shit," John uttered, not even thinking that he was speaking to his commanding officer. "Is Quinn ok?"
"As far as I know." The Chief sat back in his seat. "Look, John, we may not be very good at showing it, but when that accident wiped out that family... Quinn became very important to some of us and we have a vested interest in seeing that he is ok, but I have no authority in Newport and I can't send you down there as a cop. I know you, though, and I know that your first instinct is going to be to run down there and be Quinn's savior. I have to advise you not to do that. There is no scenario in which that would be a smart move. If you have any interaction with those people, even if you're out of uniform, the press will see it as an officer over stepping his authority. And the truth is, John, they'd be right."
"So... what do I do?"
The Chief raised his eyebrows and spoke sympathetically. "I know that you're seeing Quinn's sister, John. Go sit with her. There's not much else you can do right now."
Ricky's phone was ringing. He'd worked a late shift at the Verizon Store and then stayed up way too late to watch 'Key Largo' with Grandpa Bill. So he'd planned to sleep-in that morning. He opened one eye and looked at the caller ID. 'Joe.' Then he glanced at the clock. 9:03am. Ugh. He'd hoped to stay asleep till at least eleven.
He pressed the accept button. "Joe, it's too early. Call back in a few hours."
"Dude, this is really serious. Something's happening at Golden Bluffs and I think Quinn's in trouble. Big trouble. Dude, they're saying she's a guy." Joe's voice was excited and the fact that he'd called Ricky 'dude' twice indicated he was very agitated.
Ricky sat up quickly. "What? What are they saying!? What's going on!?"
Just then, Ricky's bedroom door flew open. "Ricky, you'd better come down stairs right now! Quinn's in trouble. Big trouble!" Fiona's voice was just as excited as Joe's and she looked very upset.
Ricky was already pulling the sheet off of himself and headed to the door in his tee shirt and boxers. "Joe, I'll call you later."
"Ricky, wait!" Joe shouted into the phone.
"What?" Ricky was already hustling down the stairs behind Fiona.
"Is Quinn really a guy?"
Ricky grunted. "Joe, she's my girlfriend, ok? That's all you need to know."
"Yeah... got it. Sorry, dude. Let me know if I can help."
Ricky entered the front room of the first floor where all eight sisters, their mother and Grandpa Bill were watching a corespondent reporting on Good Morning America that a well known, far-right sect of a conservative religious group was mounting a protest on the grounds of one of the most historic properties in America because it had come to their attention that one of America's greatest women was being represented by a boy. In fact, 'boy' was the nicest noun he heard them use. In interviews with the protestors, he heard the girl he loved referred to as 'a fag,' 'a female impersonator,' 'a fairy,' and 'a drag queen.'
It was all so hurtful and upsetting that Ricky couldn't even process what was happening.
Then he heard Cathy's voice behind him, speaking into her phone. "Hi. Look, I need to call out today. Yeah, I know and I'm sorry, but one of my sisters is in trouble and she needs my help. Yeah. Sorry. Bye."
Ricky was about to thank his sister when he heard Alice's voice. "Hi, this is Alice Briggs. I won't be in today. We have a family crisis. One of my sisters needs our help. Thanks."
Then it was Beatrice's voice. Then Grace's. Then Ellen's. Then Isabella's. Then Hannah's. And all of them said 'my sister needs my help.'
In his haze of wonderment, Fiona's arm was suddenly around his torso and her head was against his shoulder. "She needs all of us, now, Ricky."
Ricky put his arm around Fiona and looked around the room, his eyes watering. "Thanks, guys." He said very quietly. "Now... what do we do?"
Grandpa Bill's arm came around Ricky from the other side. "Well, we don't do anything confrontational, pal. That's what those people want us to do. I think the first thing we should do is call Annie and make sure that she's ok. Then, maybe we can coordinate efforts with her. Ok?"
"Ok, grandpa."
From 'The Autobiography of Miss Louisa Harper of New York and Newport'
~ "Langdon's rash decision to purchase the building soon turned into a problem as nearly all of the tenants began to move their businesses elsewhere. This left Langdon, well, Langdon and me, with a big mortgage and no income from the building. He didn't say so, but I could tell that he was very concerned that he may have been too rash in his actions and was afraid that he would soon be bankrupt because of it.
"What on earth can you do about it?" Miranda asked after I'd shared my concerns and my intentions to help my fiancé with her.
"Find tenants," I explained, matter of factly. "It shouldn't be too hard. People need offices and we have office space available."
"SOME people need offices, Louisa, but most business people HAVE offices. You and Lanny have five empty floors. Honestly, I think that you'd better talk to him about selling the building. Father and Mother will get used to us working from home."
I was determined, though. I began by sending wires to every businessman I knew in Manhattan, explaining that we had space available in a modern building at a good price. Within a few days, I received back three inquires and twenty nine notices of regret.
It was a start, though, so I persisted.
I set about sending wires to the wives of all the men I'd contacted before. This time, three responded that they had sons who needed offices, two inquired for relatives and several inquired on their own behalf. It seemed that there were other women with interests outside of a household.
Very soon, the two store fronts were rented. One to a woman who made women's hats and the other to a woman who designed and manufactured clothing for woman who could not afford the more high end shops that my family frequented.
Miranda and I occupied the second floor and soon there was a group of young lawyers setting up a practice on the third - all were the sons of women to whom I'd written.
It took nearly a month more to rent the fourth floor to a partnership of men who imported fruits from South America.
Then, just before December, I received another telegram from Mr Samuel Clemens.
TO: MISS LOUISA HARPER, NEW YORK CITY
FR: SAMUEL CLEMENS, AIX LES BAINS, FRANCE
MISS HARPER
MY TOUR OF EUROPE CONTINUES (STOP)
HOWEVER I AM IN NEED OF OFFICE SPACE IN MANHATTAN (STOP)
UNDERSTAND THAT YOU MAY BE ABLE TO ACCOMMODATE (STOP)
TOP FLOOR PREFERRED (STOP)
PLEASE CONTACT MY REPRESENTATIVES IN HARTFORD TO CONFIRM ARRANGEMENTS (STOP)
IN FRIENDSHIP, S CLEMENS
I framed that telegram and hung it in my office.
"John, I can't just leave him there! Those people will eat him alive! He must be petrified!" Ann was wringing her hands as she fretted. All these years of taking care of Quinn - all these years of crying when he couldn't hear her - all these years of protecting him as if he was her own child and now - and now - and now she couldn't help him when he needed her the most.
"Look, honey," John took her hand as they sat on the couch with the television muted, "you just spoke to Quinn and you spoke to Barbara. They are safe inside. Those people out in front, they're professional protestors. They know what they can and can't do, and they know they can't enter the building. She's as safe there as she would be here."
Suddenly, Ann leaned forward and put her head in her hands and started sobbing.
"Annie..." John put his arm around her shoulder. "Annie... it's going to be ok..."
"No, it's not, John!" She said loudly, not intending to sound defensive, but sounding that way, nonetheless. "It's already NOT ok!"
She tried to control herself, but her adrenaline level was high and she had reached her breaking point.
"Look," she tried to explain, "I know that, to you, Quinn is this tough, courageous trans-woman who is pursuing her true self and all that, but to me he's still my Quinn. The little boy I babysat. My baby brother who's diapers I changed to help my mom. The sad, broken little boy that my mom and dad left me to take care of. John... Quinn is as much my child as he'd be if I'd adopted him. I gave up my dreams to take care of him. Oh, God... that sounds awful and it's not what I mean, but... John... as much as I may have complained and whined about how unfair it was that I was stuck here as his nurse... I never really meant it. Quinn is MY child, John. My little boy. My little girl - whatever - he's MINE and these... these... these... ASSHOLES... have already hurt him just by doing what they've already done. The damage has already been done, John, and I don't know what to do about it. I've already helped to put him back together once, John... I don't think I can do it again."
John had no response. The things that Annie had just said... they were horrifying. They were heart wrenching and they showed John something he'd been wholly unaware of until that point. The accident had done more than broken Quinn... it had broken Annie as well. Of course, he knew that it had been terrible for her, but... this was bigger than just mourning. Annie was just as broken as Quinn and she needed just as much help putting herself back together as she had given to Quinn. For some reason, that made him love her all the more.
"Annie..." he didn't know what else to say, and he didn't have to say anything because Ann's phone rang where it sat on the coffee table. John looked at the called ID. "It's Ricky."
Ann sighed and shook her head. "He must be frantic, too."
"I'll answer it," John pressed the 'accept' button.
Barbara was trying desperately to get her head around how this had all happened and how it had become such a monumental issue for everyone involved. "Well, someone must have told them!" She shouted a little too loudly.
Quinn had disappeared into the clothes racks and Monica had gone with him, leaving just Carolyn and Barbara talking by Barbara's desk.
"What about your new girlfriend, April?" Carolyn asked, angrily. "Did you tell her?"
Barbara shook her head. "No. Besides, she would have understood how devastating something like this could be for the estate. She never would have said anything, even if she had know ."
"Did Quinn tell anyone?"
Barbara froze. Quinn had told her on the way to work that he'd confessed to all eight of Ricky's sisters. Holy Moses. One of them could have said something. Instead of telling her mother that, though, she just said, "No. I don't think so."
"Well, figure this out, Barbara and get those people the hell off of our front lawn as soon as possible. This isn't some clubhouse for the sexually depraved population of Aquidneck Island." She turned and stormed off.
Barbara was about to respond to her mother's last attack when she heard someone shouting from the exterior door way. "Don't you fucking touch me, you asshole!" The voice was angry and female, and Barbara understood why someone would be upset, but if that remark had been recorded for a newscast, it wouldn't help their cause at all.
Barbara hurried to see who had shouted. "Roxie?" She said, surprised.
The young woman who had played Louisa's sister, Miranda, at the weddings shook her body, as if shaking off the rain.
"What are you doing here?" Barbara asked, confused. "You're serving today, right? You're getting changed with the other servers."
"Where's Quinn?" Roxanne asked, not paying much heed to Barbara.
Barbara looked around, a bit confused. "I'm not sure... Quinn!?"
He emerged from the racks wearing his favorite Louisa outfit, a silvery-blue day dress, his hair and makeup done, ready to go into the greeting areas.
"What are you doing?" Barbara asked. "We're not opening the doors to those lunatics!"
"Oh, Quinn!" Roxanne hurried over to him and threw her arms around him.
Barbara looked at Monica who was also dressed to receive guests. "She's insisting on greeting the real guests," Monica explained.
Barbara was about to lay down the law and forbid that, but Roxanne spoke first. "So, you ARE the Quinn who went to my school. The one I thought was dead. Oh, Quinn, I'm so sorry that I said what I said and that all of this is happening. You don't deserve this, honey. You've been through so much already..."
Monica interrupted Roxanne's stream of words and said, "Roxie, go put on one of Miranda's dresses. You and I will stay with Quinn all day. They won't pull anything if we're all together."
"Now hold on!" Barbara shouted. "No one is going out into the greeting areas today! I don't care how many ACTUAL guests show up today, NO ONE IS COMING THROUGH THE FRONT DOORS OF GOLDEN BLUFFS." She took a breath. "Not until the police get those jackasses out of here."
"I doubt that they plan on going anywhere, Barbie," Monica said, sadly. "They've got all kinds of press coverage and there seems to be enough trans-phobic people around to support them. I don't see a lot of options. Either we can greet the people who are here as legitimate customers or we can keep ignoring everything, hide in our castle, and keep acting as if nothing unusual is happening out there. I don't know what else to do."
"I do," a man's voice came from the hallway. It was Evan, already dressed in his Mr Harper suit. He smiled as he entered the costume shop and looked at the worried faces of the women. "Ahh, it's good to be amongst family at a time like this." He kissed Monica's cheek, "Winnifred, my love." Then he kissed Roxanne's cheek. "Miranda, my dear, so good to see you." Then he kissed Quinn's cheek. "And here is little Louisa. The light of my heart and the bane of my existence. You know, I don't think that the real Louisa gave her father as big a run for his money as you have given me, my dear."
Quinn sighed. "I know. I'm sorry. All of you... I'm sorry."
"Oh, don't be silly, Quinn," Barbara shook her head. "This was all my idea."
"Well," Evan sat and crossed his legs, "regardless of who's idea it was to have a trans-woman portray Louisa, I think that casting Quinn, regardless of her DNA, was brilliant. The kids love her and she knows everything there is to know about the Harpers and Golden Bluffs. Now... let's move on."
"Good idea." Barbara sat on her desk and folded her arms. "So... what's your plan to deal with all of this, then?"
Evan was very sure that he knew what he was doing. "You know Toby Franklin over up in Warwick?"
Barbara blinked at him. "Sure. He runs that big costume supply shop, right?"
"He does," Evan smiled, "and he is sending a truckload of things our way as we speak. Don't worry - I'll help pay for everything."
Barbara, Quinn, Monica and Roxanne all looked at him and to each other, completely baffled.
"Why is he bringing things to us?" Barbara was curious, now. Evan was always a clever guy. He definitely had something up his sleeve.
"Well," he sat a bit straighter and looked at each of them, "you know how some people wear those bracelets that have 'WWJD' on them?"
"Sure," Monica nodded. "What would Jesus do?"
Evan smiled. "In this case, I think we should ask 'WWKDD,' or 'What Would Kirk Douglas Do?'"
No response.
"Well, to be more precise, it should probably be 'WWTCD.' 'What Would Tony Cutis Do?'"
Still no response.
'God, you people are so young. Let's just start rallying the troops, ok? Call everyone you know who might help us out and have them come here. Tell them to park at The Elms and walk along the ocean path, though. That way the protesters won't see them."
"Ok," Quinn nodded, "but for now, I'm going to go meet my guests."
"No!" Barbara insisted.
"Barbie," Monica said quietly. "Let us do this. We need to stay busy and there's plenty of people who can standby as security."
"Argh!" Barbara let out a groan. "Sometimes I feel like Doctor Frankenstein and now my monster is out of control."
Evan stood and said, "An excellent analogy, Barbie. Now, let's get the pitchforks out of the hands of the villagers, shall we?"
"These people... they think that they can just undermine our traditions and pervert history. Well, they can't. We won't let them."
"How is having a trans-woman portray Louisa Harper perverting history?" The NBC Network news reporter asked.
"Don't act so naïve," the protesters scoffed. "Louisa Harper was a straight woman. She had a vagina and two 'X' chromosomes. That's how she should be represented."
"Yes, but," the reporter persisted, "it does seem odd that your organization, which is known for demanding that women remain in traditional roles as homemakers and caregivers, should suddenly be the defenders of a woman known for her progressive views of women's rights. She was not a traditional woman in any way and encouraged women to seek opportunities outside of the home and beyond the restrictions society placed on the women of her day."
"That's not true," the protester scoffed.
"Of course it is," the reporter explained. "Anyone with a basic knowledge of the life and achievements of Louisa Harper knows that she broke social norms rather than live within their confines."
The protester laughed. "You better check your facts. Women of that era didn't challenge the Bible's guidelines for women. They stayed home and supported their husbands the way that God intended."
"So, you have no idea who Louisa Harper was or what she represents?"
"Of course I do. I need to go."
The reporter turned and faced the camera. "Well, there you have it. This is Julio Rivera, live from the Golden Bluffs Estate in Newport, Rhode Island."
"Welcome, everyone, welcome," Quinn, as Louisa, said as he welcomed a group of tourists into the suite where he'd been greeting tourists for several weeks, now. Barbara had tried very hard to keep Quinn, Roxanne and Monica from going out into the estate that day, but Quinn had insisted that the real guests deserved a real show. Finally, Barbara had relented, but insisted that Monica and Roxanne be in the same room with Quinn at all times. This was the fourth group of tourists of the day and things were going well. They all had started to relax a bit. "My name is Louisa, this is my sister Miranda and my mother, Winifred. It is a bit unusual that we are all together to greet you, today, but I'm sure you've noticed that today is an unusual day. We have a lot of unexpected guests with us today and we just want to make sure that everyone feels welcome."
Quinn did his usual spiel about Louisa's life at Golden Bluffs with Monica adding some highlights from Winifred's point of view. Even Roxanne, who was very beautiful in her burgundy dress, added a few tidbits from Miranda's point of view, tidbits that had been provided by Quinn.
"Any questions?" Quinn asked, as always.
"Is a corset uncomfortable?" A very pretty, dark haired girl of maybe twelve years old asked. That was almost always the first question from each group to enter the suite.
All three of the Harper women smiled. Quinn answered, "Yes and no. At first, it is very restrictive, but you get used to it very quickly. After a day or two, you forget that you're even wearing it."
A second little girl raised her hand and Quinn called on her. "Did you own a car?"
"A car? Do you mean an automobile?"
The girl nodded.
"Well," Quinn leaned forward to act as if this were confidential information, "of course, I know what an automobile is. I've read about them in magazines. But, no, in 1901, when I was fifteen, we did not own an automobile. Father has spoken about purchasing one, but I don't think that will happen for at least ten years or so."
A third little girl raised her hands. She was very dressed up for a tourist.
"Yes?" Quinn asked, brightly.
"Are you going to burn in hell?" The child asked.
Quinn was caught off guard by the question. "I beg your pardon? Do you mean because my family is rich? I do think that my good works will be taken into consideration when my time comes." It wasn't a great response, but Quinn wanted to just say anything and move along.
"No," the child's mother said, a smile plastered onto her face. "What she means is are you, Quinn Collins, prepared to spend eternity in hell?"
That threw Quinn, a bit. "I beg your pardon... My name is..."
Another woman interrupted. "Your name is Quinn Collins. You live in Portsmouth, Rhode Island. You are a homosexual and you will burn in hell."
Before Quinn could respond the little girl piped up, again. "On account of you're a fag."
"Security!" Monica called out loudly. "Security!"
"You ARE a fag, aren't you?" The second lady asked. The strangest part of the interaction with these females was the self-satisfied smiles that they maintained during their insulting attack.
"You're just a faggy boy in a dress, aren't you?" The girl persisted.
As several men who worked as 'butlers' in the estate entered to escort the women and child out, Quinn said, "I do hate to be an ungracious hostess, but I must say that you are, perhaps, the rudest people I have ever met. I am afraid that I must ask you to leave."
"This way, ladies, please," one of the butlers said, without touching anyone, but just indicating the direction in which he wanted the group to proceed.
The three females smiled even more broadly and began to chant rhythmically, "Fag. Fag. Fag. Fag. Fag..." and they allowed themselves to be led away.
"I'm sorry," Monica announced, "but I am afraid that Louisa needs to leave, now."
"Oh, don't be silly, Mother," Quinn laughed. "We mustn't let a few rude people ruin our day. I'm sure that there are more questions." He smiled at the guests.
Monica let out a frustrated sigh. "Alright, Louisa. A few more questions, but then we'll need to prepare for dinner."
Quinn shook his head and smiled at the guests. "Mother can be very demanding," he said to the children. "I bet your mothers can be demanding, too, can't they?"
"Yeeeessss," the group said in unison, causing the mothers in the room to laugh and murmur to each other.
"So," Quinn's bright demeanor was back, "does anyone else have any questions?"
Almost every girl under fourteen raised her hand with yet another question about the life of Louisa Harper.
"Oh, Lord!" Carolyn grunted as the phone on her desk rang yet again. She picked up the receiver and said, "Hello," then listened for a moment. "No. At this time we have no statement, but we will be addressing the press later today. Thank you." She said and put the receiver back into its cradle.
She looked at her daughter and said, "Have you figured out who told the press?"
Barbara shook her head. "No, mother, I have not, but Evan has a really good idea for dealing with the protesters."
Carolyn rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Until you know who spoke to the press, you'll never be able to handle this situation, Barbara."
"I disagree..."
"Listen. I have been running this estate since you were a child and I have never had a scandal like this to deal with, Barbara. This mess is your fault and you need to put an end to it."
"Mom, you can't allow these people to hold the moral high ground. Yes, having a trans-woman portraying Louisa is definitely a new idea, but it is not something to be ashamed of. We need to present ourselves to the press as the people who are enlightened and accepting of everyone."
"Oh, for crying out loud, Barbara!" Carolyn had reached the end of her rope. Why was everyone else so useless? "We are a historical museum, not a place for a political stance!"
"Why not, mom? Those people aren't even from around here. They're from nearly two thousand miles away. I guarantee that, if we take a stand and support Quinny and every other trans-person, then I really think that our customer base will support us even more."
"Well, that's not going to happen. Quinn is obviously no longer going to be playing Louisa..."
"Of course she is," Barbara shook her head. "She's the best Louisa we've ever had..."
"No HE is not, Barbara. If you can't fire him, then send him in here and I'll do it. Where is he, now?"
"She's at her station greeting guests."
"What!? Are you insane? Get him up here immediately!"
"Mom, Quinny is doing the right thing and we are going to support her..."
"NO!" Carolyn shouted and slammed her open palm against her desk top. "No, Barbara, now, just stop this stupidity."
"Mom!" Barbara tried to rationalize with her mother. "Outside of New England, if you tell someone that you're from Newport, the first thing that they ask isn't about the mansions. The first thing they ask is, 'Is that the place where Bob Dylan first used an electric guitar?' We can change that, mom. We can make that first question, 'Is that where the community stood up for that trans-woman?' This is important, mom." Carolyn dropped her forehead into the palms of her hands in an overly dramatic manner. "God, you just don't get it, do you, Barbara? Just because you've decided that all things gay are cool, you can't push that down other people's throats! Honest to goodness, I do not understand you, any more. When I was eating with Eve yesterday afternoon, I was telling her how you and the rest of the world seems to have gone completely off the rails! You and everyone else your age seem to think that anyone can be anything just by saying so! You have to get a handle on reality before you ruin everything that we've worked for, here."
"Wait!" Barbara sat forward in her seat. "What did you tell Eve?"
Carolyn blinked as she thought. "Well... I told her about you and that April girl and how foolish I thought that was..."
"Did you tell her about Quinny?"
"No, I did not," Carolyn said, emphatically, but then she thought for a moment. "Well... not, specifically, no. I mean... I never mentioned his name. Just that the boy across the street was now a girl and had a boyfriend."
"And that she was playing Louisa, right?" Barbara said, getting a bit pushy.
"Well... maybe... I don't know for sure. I mean... Barbara, you have my head spinning with all of this nonsense. Hes and shes and girls with girlfriends and boys with boyfriends... it's all too much. Maybe I did say something..."
"MAYBE!?" Barbara looked shocked. "Mom, how could you have done this? When I was in high school, Eve was leading a charge to have 'Huckleberry Finn' removed from the school library! She called 'A Catcher in the Rye' pornography! She wanted to have a science teacher fired because he was gay! Mom, you told the only person I know who is self-righteous enough to destroy everything just to have her own way, the one thing that you had no right to tell anyone!"
Carolyn shook her head. "Barbara, you and that boy... you have me so confused. If I DID say anything it was because..."
"It was because YOU told her, mom. It wasn't because of anything I did. It was because you CHOSE to say something to someone who you knew would try to damage either Quinny or me, and I have to tell you, mom, I think that's incredibly petty."
"Oh, of course!" Carolyn wasn't about to quit without a fight. "YOU suddenly turn MY life upside down and now I'm the bad guy because I needed to vent to someone - anyone - who might understand..."
"Enough!" Barbara stood. "You can just sit here and deny the facts, mom, but I'm going to put an end to all of this insanity on the front lawn. You may want to come outside at about two thirty. I think you may find our solution pretty eye opening."
"Ok, we'll be there," Ann said into the phone, then she disconnected the call.
"Should I call Ricky?" John asked.
"No. Quinn already called him and he and his sisters are calling everyone they know.'
"Alright. I'll call some of my friends, too."
Ann nodded. "You know, what? I'm going to send an email to my whole school system. See if anyone will come out."
"Sounds good," John nodded and grabbed his phone. "I'll do the same."
"Just come up along the beach approach, ok?" Ricky said into his phone.
"Yeah, sure, Rick," Joe replied, eager to help. "But... is it true that Quinn's a guy? I only ask because... well... because I'm curious, I guess."
Ricky sighed. "Joe... all you need to know is that Quinn is everything I have ever wanted in a girl and that I love her."
"Everything, dude? Everything? I mean... something is definitely missing, right?"
"Joe, you're my best friend, but if this is going to be a big deal for you, then we're going to have to say goodbye, ok?"
There was quiet for a moment. "Ok, Rick. I get it. If she makes you happy, that's all I need to know."
"Thanks, Joe."
"I'll see you around two."
Ricky put down his phone and shook his head. Why couldn't people just let Quinn be Quinn and Ricky be Ricky? This was a much bigger thing than it should be.
"Ricky?" A voice came from his doorway.
He turned and said, "Hey, mom."
She entered and sat on the other side of the bed with her back to him. "Ricky... this is going to be big, you know. Like... on TV, big. Everyone's going to know that Quinn's a boy. This might be more than you can handle."
Ricky nodded, then stood and walked around the bed so that he stood in front of his mother. "You're right, mom. This is a lot and... I could really use your support today."
She looked out the front window and thought for a moment. "I know that I'm not the best mother in the world, Ricky, but I don't think I'd be doing a good job as a mom if I didn't point out that this is probably not going to go smoothly. Everyone you know and everyone you've ever known is going to see you on TV and they're going to think of you differently after that. Can you deal with that?"
Ricky stared at her for a long few moments. "How about you, mom? Will you see me differently?"
She shrugged. "Does it matter, Ricky?"
He took a deep breath and let it out. "As far as the rest of the world is concerned... no. It doesn't matter. But as far as you're concerned... it matters. I don't want you to turn your back on me, mom. I love you too much to let that happen."
"So... if I asked you not to do this, you wouldn't?"
"No, mom, I'm going to go help Quinn anyway I can. I love her. I just want you to be on board with it so we don't end up with a wedge in between us."
She stood and hugged him. Then she let him go and said, "I don't want that either, Ricky. I'll get ready to go."
"Thanks, mom," he smiled as she left the room.
He was looking at his phone, pondering who else to call when he heard Fiona's voice. "Are you ok?"
Ricky's eyes were filled with un-shed tears as he shook his head. "No, Fi. I'm really not. This shouldn't be this hard."
Fiona entered and hugged him. "I know, Rick, and I know that this might make a few things uncomfortable for you in the next few months, but think about who's had to given up more privacy here - you or Quinn. She's literally being laid bare in the press."
"I know, and that's really killing me. I just want to be in Newport with her right now. I'm so scared that she is going to be hurt by those assholes."
"Hey," Fiona looked him in the eye, "I have never, ever, ever met anyone, male or female, as strong as Quinn Collins. She has been through more than any of us could possibly survive. This will be nothing for her. All she needs is for you to be there."
Ricky smiled. "Just me and her eight sisters, huh?"
Fiona smiled, now. "It's what sisters do."
Bill looked at the phone that was vibrating in his hand and pushed the 'accept' button. "Hi, Chief. What's up?"
The man on the other end of the phone huffed a little. "Hi, Bill. Look... I understand that Quinn Collins' friends are planning some kind of a demonstration down in Newport this afternoon."
"That's the plan, Chief," Bill said, matter of factly.
"Honestly, Bill, I can't recommend that you do that. In situations like this, it's always better to just let the protestors tire themselves out and go home. It'll all be over in a week or so and no one will even remember it in six months."
Bill chuckled at that. "I can't agree with your assessment, Chief. Even if everyone else forgets about it, this attack on Quinn is going to harm her irreparably unless we show up and show her that she's worthy of our love and acceptance."
"You're doing the wrong thing, Bill. Take my advice, just let it blow over."
"You know," Bill wasn't being defensive, just honest, "about seven years ago the Collins family was destroyed and that community that you represent had an opportunity to come to their rescue and help out a poor college kid who had to give up her dreams to take care of her little brother who was facing challenges that no one should ever have to face. And how did your community handle that opportunity, Chief?"
"Come on, Bill. You're over simplifying the situation. The Collins family had only lived here a short time. We barely knew them.'
"That's just an excuse, Chief, and you know it. You and everyone else in Portsmouth had the opportunity to do the right thing and nobody, not you, not anyone else, did a goddamned thing."
"Bill..."
"Hey, don't take it too much to heart, Chief. I didn't do a goddamned thing, either. I saw that accident. I read the stories in the papers and I could have helped, but I was too wound up in my own life to do what I should have. Now, I have a chance to help her, again, Chief, and I'm not going to let that opportunity pass me by. So... as for these people who are attacking one of my kids..."
"Bill, Quinn is NOT one of your kids."
"... I am not going to let them tear either my family or the Collins family apart."
The Portsmouth Chief of Police sighed again. "Is there anything I can say to stop you from doing this?"
"Not a fucking thing, Chief. Not a fucking thing."
The overflow parking lot at The Elms was already nearly full when Ricky pulled into it. Grandpa Bill was right behind him in his BMW with Ricky's mother in the passenger seat, and all of Ricky's sisters were following the BMW in the family van.
When they all had gotten out of their vehicles, they headed towards the beach to follow the walking path that led to Golden Bluffs. They were all surprised to be joining a large group of people already heading in the direction of the Harper estate.
When, at last, they entered the house, they were all ushered into the huge grand entry where Evan was standing at the top of the stairs on the little balcony that overlooked the first floor.
"Alright, ladies and gentlemen!" He shouted. "If we could have some silence, please, I'd like to tell you how this is going to work. We are setting up a public address system outside the main entrance, right behind you, as we speak. First, we'll all line up in single file inside. We will pass among you and give you each your prop. Then, we will start the event with Barbara, here," he indicated Barbara, "saying a few words before she turns the microphone over to me. I will give a very short speech and then each of you will walk up to the microphone and say your line, then follow in the direction that I will walk. Now, we're going to rehearse our line. Please, please, please, only say this line - nothing else - and then follow to where I have gone. Any questions? No? Ok. Repeat after me..."
From 'The Autobiography of Miss Louisa Harper of New York and Newport"
~ "If I have learned anything at all throughout the first part my brief life, it is that I cannot find success, and I certainly cannot find happiness, without the love and support of my family and friends. At the beginning of the summer of 1891, I felt like a rudderless child who was ignored by her family. As Christmas approached, though, I realized that I was no longer a child, but with the help of my family, friends and, especially, the love of my life, Langdon, I could achieve anything - regardless of my age or sex."
"Son of a bitch," the Chief of Police of Portsmouth muttered and he slammed his desk drawer shut. He stood and walked to his office door and looked around. "Bartlett!" He shouted across the office.
"Yeah, Chief?"
"I'm going to Newport. You're in charge while I'm gone."
He looked at the young woman who was both receptionist and dispatcher for the small department. "Call if you need me."
"Ok, Chief," she nodded.
The Chief grabbed his hat and headed for the door. Just as his hand touched the handle, the receptionist/dispatcher called to him. "Chief! Don't let anything happen to her, ok?"
He shook his head. "That's the plan, Ellen."
Quinn had changed back into the yellow sundress he'd worn that morning and had just entered the very crowded foyer of the estate. He stopped dead in his tracks, shocked by the number of people who'd turned up to support him. "Wow," he muttered, then he smiled. "Hi, everyone. I'm Quinn..." he would have continued, but the applause was too loud and lasted too long for him to say anything.
"Hey," Ricky said, coming to his side and kissing Quinn's cheek. "Are you ok?"
Quinn nodded and smiled. "Yeah. I think I am. I wasn't, but... now, you're here. Look at all of this!"
"Quinn!" Fiona appeared and hugged him tightly. "Are you ok?"
Quinn smiled back at her. "I am, now."
"We're all here for you," Fiona said, excitedly. "Grandpa Bill, mom, all of the girls... everyone. We even called all of our friends and almost all of them are here, too."
This was unbelievable. Everyone was smiling at him, offering him a thumbs up, waving... it was so much more than he could possibly process in the moment.
"Quinn!" He turned and saw Silva, Liam and all of the people from dance class waving at him.
"Oh, my God!" He smiled, touching his hand to his chest. "Thank you guys so much for coming!"
"Are you kidding?" Sylvia laughed. "You're one of us, honey. We're always going to be here for you."
Before Quinn could tear up too much, a woman touched his right arm. "Quinn? Do you remember me?"
It took him a moment but her name came to him. "Mrs Gallagher!" He said, shocked to see his seventh grade history teacher.
"Oh, honey," the woman wrapped her arms around him, "I'm so sorry I didn't stay in touch to see how you were doing all these years. It was just so tragic and none of us knew quite how to deal with it. I just want you to know though, that you have been in my prayers every morning and night since you were hurt. I am so happy to see you looking so beautiful." She hugged him tighter and Quinn could tell that she was crying.
"Thank you, Mrs Gallagher," Quinn said into the woman's ear. "That means the world to me."
Other people spoke to him, too. Other teachers, fellow students, neighbors, colleagues of Annie's, friends of the Briggs sisters, people who'd seen Quinn's presentations as Louisa Harper, people who just wanted the hate group on the front lawn to leave their community... there were, literally, hundreds upon hundreds of people there to support him.
"Alright, ladies and gentlemen!" Evan shouted. "We are going to pass out your props. Please just get ready and once you have everything ready, just leave it alone. Thank you."
"You should get to the doorway," Ann said, touching Quinn's shoulder.
Quinn excused himself from the person who'd been speaking to him. He looked around and spotted Ricky, he took his boyfriend's hand and whispered, "I really need you to be near me." Then he spotted Fiona and he took her hand as well. "I need you, too. In fact, I need my whole family. Come on. We need to get to the front."
Annie smiled as the entire Briggs family joined John and her as they moved forward to support her little sister.
The road from Portsmouth to Newport was very crowded and the traffic was moving very slowly.
"What the hell?" The Chief mumbled to himself. He was several miles south of the area in which he had any jurisdiction, but the clock was ticking. John had told him that the plan was to do whatever crazy thing they were planning to do at two thirty and it was already two ten. He knew that it was one hundred percent against protocol, but he needed to be there. If he wasn't and something bad happened, he'd never forgive himself. So, he turned on his siren and pulled into the left lane and headed to Golden Bluffs as quickly as he could.
Why the hell wasn't anyone listening to him, today? John had never once challenged him before and Bill Briggs tended to only call him when he needed some advice. Now, he'd told John to stand down and he'd told Bill to let the situation blow over, but no one had paid a bit of attention to him. Now, whatever nonsense they had planned was more than likely to end up in some kind of confrontation with people from both sides ending up in jail.
What no one seemed to be hearing was that the people who'd shown up to protest knew exactly how to provoke the community members. Chances are, the jail cells would have a lot more locals in them than they would provocateur's.
As he approached Mansion Row, there were Newport police officers directing people away from The Elms, Golden Bluffs and The Breakers. The Chief pulled up to the makeshift barrier they'd assembled and rolled down his window.
"Hey, Chief," the Newport officer said, reading the insignia on the side of the police car as he leaned down to look into the window. "What can I do for you?"
"Hi, officer. Hey, I know this is a little unorthodox, but I need to get to Golden Bluffs."
"Ooh, no can do, Chief," the officer said. "Things are really heating up down there and my Chief says no one else is allowed in. There's probably three or four thousand people down there already."
"Can you call your Chief for me? Tell him that I'm here and I need to get through. That's one of my girls in there and I just want to be there to help if things go sideways."
"Ok," the cop was dubious, but he pressed the button on the microphone that hung on his chest. He spoke for a few moments, then turned back to the Chief. "Alright. Follow the road to Golden Bluffs and park in the Golden Bluffs employee lot. My Chief will meet you, there."
"How could you have done this to me, Eve?" Carolyn nearly screamed into her phone. "I confided in you as a friend! How could you have just turned around and told the press about this?"
"Look, Carolyn," her friend's voice was very self righteous and superior sounding, "you told me about horrible, perverted things going on in my own backyard. Did you really expect me to just sit quietly and let your daughter and her friends undermine the moral integrity of my community? Surely, you know me better than that. You told me those things because you were afraid to do anything about them yourself. Well, I wasn't and I took care of it."
Carolyn groaned in frustration. "You may have destroyed Golden Bluffs. This is a scandal, Eve, an absolute scandal and Golden Bluffs may never recover from this."
"Well, then just do the right thing, Carolyn. Drag that little fairy out in front of the cameras, tell the press that you were duped by your daughter's poor judgement and fire the little faggot. That will be the end of it."
Carolyn felt a contraction in her chest. She'd known Eve for decades, but she had no idea that she could be this cold and heartless. "Eve... Barbara is my daughter and I've known Quinn since he was a child. I can't just throw them under a bus like that."
"Then I don't know what to tell you, Carolyn. You need to make a decision. Do you protect your daughter and her little fairy friend, or do you do what's right and put an end to this whole thing?"
"Goddamnit, Eve, you had no right to share that information! I'm sorry, but our friendship is dissolved as of this moment."
"Oh, please, you can't be serious."
"I am deadly serious, Eve. I've been an idiot up until this point, but no longer. I love my daughter and if she's a lesbian, that's just something I need to accept. And as for Quinn... well... I don't have the right to condemn him, either. Goodbye, Eve."
She heard the woman on the other end of the call start to speak again, but she'd already ended the call.
Immediately, she pushed Barbara's number.
"Mom?"
"Barbie, you haven't started yet, have you?"
Barbie? It had been a good long while since Barbara's mother had called her 'Barbie.' "No. In about five minutes."
"Well, don't start without me. I'm coming down to support both you and Quinn. I'm on my way."
When the phone call ended, Barbara looked at her device and muttered, "What the hell?"
"Chief!" The Chief or police in Newport waved and walked towards him, offering a hand. "A purely social visit, I assume? I don't need to remind you that you have no authority here."
The man from Portsmouth shook his head. "No need at all. I'm just here to... honest to God, Frank, I can't even tell you why I'm here. I guess I just feel like... well, maybe I let down this kid when she got hurt way back when. I'm just here to be supportive, now, I guess."
The Newport Chief looked around. "You and several thousand others, from what I gather. I'm just hoping to keep a lid on things this afternoon. Honestly, I never thought I'd see these whacko's come to Rhode Island. Must be nice to have nothing better to do than to be a professional asshole who just travels the country destroying the well being of decent people."
The Chief from Portsmouth nodded. "Let's just hope that today isn't the day that they win."
"Good afternoon, everyone," Carolyn spoke into the microphone. Pretty much everyone was shocked to see her arrive in the foyer, but Barbara was watching her now, as she addressed everyone outside the estate, in a state of shock. "My name is Carolyn Jenkins and I am the Director of Operations here at the Harper Estate. I'm sure that you've read all of the news reports about our Louisa here at Golden Bluffs. Well, I am here to assure you that not only are those reports completely, utterly and unashamedly true, but I want to emphasize that this year's Louisa, regardless of her gender at birth, is the most knowledgeable, most gracious and most beautiful Louisa we have ever had at Golden Bluffs and I, for one, could not be more proud of the work that she has done here."
There was a smattering of applause from the people who'd just arrived to show support and loud booing from the protestors.
"For those of you who feel that we have somehow violated some unwritten rule by employing this young woman, I can only apologize to you for making you feel that way, BUT I DO WANT TO EMPHASIZE, that it is my policy and the policy of this institution to employ the best possible person to represent one of this country's greatest female thinkers and doers, and no one could possibly be a better Louisa Harper than our current employee - with the notable exception of Louisa Harper herself. Now, having kicked things off, I shall turn the microphone over to my daughter, Barbara."
Barbara stepped up to the makeshift podium, which was actually a sturdy black music stand with a table cloth hastily duct-taped to it.
"Good afternoon," a fairly stunned Barbara said, in a clear voice. "I just want to point out that we are not here to challenge anyone, or confront anyone, or create any problems. We - my mother and I and everyone else who speak in the next crew minutes - are celebrating an amazing and very brave young lady here, today, and we should be ashamed that it took this group of outsiders to make us aware that we have failed to acknowledge the hard work and achievements of Quinn Collins."
This got a very loud series of boos from the protesters.
"Most of you will remember Quinn's name from the newspapers when she was the sole survivor of a horrific car accident that took the lives of her mother, father and older brother. Since then, this young woman has been called a paraplegic, a fighter, and even a superhero. But today, we are here because some people are calling our Quinn Collins, the child who SHOULD, by all rights, have died on the side of Rt 95, the child who should never have walked again, the child who has put all of her pain behind her to bring a bit of joy to the visitors here at Golden Bluffs - that amazing, brave child is being called horrible, childish, hateful epitaphs by people who know NOTHING of her pain and achievements. So, rather than spew hatred and intolerance, we are inviting all of you to join us in celebrating this amazing young woman."
She looked about at the crowd and saw no sense of shame on the out-of-towners.
"At this point, I will turn the microphone over to a man that many of you know from his years as Mr Harper at Golden Bluffs, Mr Evan Coleman."
Evan stepped to the microphone and looked about before speaking very solemnly. "Good afternoon." He breathed deeply and looked at each protester, making eye contact when possible. "I know that you, we, all of us are good people and that our personal relationship with our creator cannot be questioned by another human being. So - I will not question, nor condemn the actions of any of you good folks out here today. I will say, though, that I understand your desire to show the world that we are a morally strong and secure nation, and for that I applaud you. I also understand that the thing you want most of all is to meet and confront this horrible, dangerous person who has been denigrating the name of Louisa Harper. As you have already heard, this heartless, vile creature is named Quinn - Quinn Collins - and she is prepared to meet you and face your wrath."
At this point, Evan bent low and fiddled with something for a moment. When he stood again, he was wearing a dark red wig done up in the fashion of Louisa Harper. He made a dramatic sigh, then said, "Ladies and Gentlemen... I am Quinn Collins," and he walked away from the podium and towards the crowd of protesters.
Almost immediately, Ann appeared from the front doorway wearing the same style of wig and walked to the microphone and said, "I am Quinn Collins," and followed Evan onto the front lawn.
John followed, the wig again in place. "I am Quinn Collins."
Then Quinn, appeared. No wig was necessary, but his hair was up and in character. "I am Quinn Collins."
Then Ricky.
Then each sister.
Ricky's mother.
Grandpa Bill.
Monica.
Roxanne.
The people from dance class.
Joe and the waitresses from The Newport Creamery.
Dozens of teachers from the Portsmouth School Department there to support both Quinn and Ann.
People he barely knew and people he'd never met before. Each with a dark red wig and each walking up to the microphone and proclaiming, "I am Quinn Collins," then walking forward onto the lawn to form a line of love and support in front of the line of pettiness and hatred.
The line just went on and on and on until people were appearing without the wigs because they'd run out of the costume item.
At some point, the people on the lawn who'd shown up just to support the person they'd heard about on the news began to shout, "I am Quinn Collins," as well and, one by one, they too formed a line of love and support, but theirs was behind the line of pettiness and hatred.
Soon, instead of individual voices, the two groups of supporters were shouting in rhythm. "I am Quinn Collins. I am Quinn Collins. I am Quinn Collins. I am Quinn Collins," and they all joined hands in support of Quinn and each other.
It became so loud that the shouts of "Fag," and "Burn in Hell," from the protesters were nearly completely drowned out.
It seemed to go on forever, but it was probably only about twenty minutes before one of the leaders of the protest motioned for a policeman to come to him. He whispered something to the officer who spoke into his microphone and within a few minutes, several school buses proclaiming the name of their church arrived in the parking lot next to the front lawn. Several officers led the protesters, single file, to the vehicles. When they were loaded aboard and the vehicles were pulling out of the lot with a police escort, a huge cheer erupted from everyone who remained on the lawn. There were hugs and kisses all around, but no one was hugged and kissed more than the woman of the moment: Quinn Collins.
As for Quinn, he could barely contain his emotions. His tears were plentiful and meaningful to all assembled. The joy and love that he felt for everyone around him was more than he could process and he was grateful when, at last, he was able to collapse into Ricky's arms and sob like a child.
"Hey, Quinn," Ricky whispered, genuinely concerned by Quinn's shaking. "Are you ok?"
Quinn nodded, but kept his head buried in Ricky's shoulder where he felt safe and most loved.
"Hey, Bill," a tired and surprised voice called as it approached.
"Chief?" Bill smiled as he removed the red wig from his head. "What brings you so far south?"
The Chief extended his hand. "Nicely done, Bill. I'm impressed."
Bill shook his head. "Nothing to do with me, Chief. I just helped out my kids."
The Chief smiled and nodded. "I guess, but... this was pretty impressive. Congratulations, Bill. Let's get together soon, ok? Maybe some deep sea fishing? What do you say?"
Bill laughed and nodded. "Sounds great, Chief. Give me a call, ok?"
"Ok, Bill." He turned and walked away, but stopped and said, "Oh, and by the way, Bill... when we do go fishing together, I'd appreciate it if you'd wear that wig. It really makes you look younger."
Bill looked at the wig in his hand, then held it up to look more closely. "You know, I've been thinking about changing my hair color. Do you think red works for my skin tone?"
The Chief winked. "Very cute."
"Ladies and gentlemen!" Evan's voice sounded through the public address system. "If I may!"
The crowd quieted, but was far from silent. They were all just too happy to be truly quiet.
"First, on behalf of all of us at Golden Bluffs, thank you for coming here today and showing this wonderful young woman so much support. I don't think any of us expected this kind of turnout, but I guess that the great people of the nation's smallest state have spoken!"
Huge cheers went up for that remark.
"Second, and lastly, I just want to thank Quinn for being the strong, intelligent, beautiful woman that she is and, believe me, honey, every person on this lawn today is going to be watching you for the rest of your life to see what kind of woman you become. We are here for you today, tomorrow and forever, baby! Remember that."
More cheering erupted.
He continued. "I feel as if we have all learned something today, Quinn, and that you have taught us a great and enduring lesson. Not a lesson about social reform, or equal rights, but a lesson about ourselves and how much we all need each other. We need each other's support and love to see us through the hardships that sometimes arrive unexpectedly on our doorsteps. The strength that you have quietly displayed for years is not all that different from the strength that our great inspiration, The Queen of Aquidneck Island, displayed throughout her life, too. Quinn, you have taught us a lesson about the strength of womanhood. Just putting on those wigs today put us all in a new frame of mind. Entering your world for a few moments taught us the power of dignity and, in our own way, the importance of becoming Miss Louisa Harper of New York and Newport. Let's hear one more big round of applause for Quinn Collins!"