Quarantine: 1 - Stir Crazy
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
Other Keywords:
Permission:
is looking for a project to keep himself busy.
Author's Note: This was just a little something to write during the Covid quarantine. I sometimes wonder if my mind might drift like Jordan's? Heh! But seriously, please do leave me a review of this story's plot premise! I would like to know if it is as fun as I think. ~Clara.
This version of Quarantine: 1 - Stir Crazy 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
"I'm telling you the truth, auntie." Jordan rubbed his forehead as he sat at his aunt's kitchen table, pushing the mop of messy, matted, curly, mousy-brown hair out of his eyes. "If we have to stay in quarantine much longer, I swear I'll go out of my mind!" It had been fifty days since he'd had to abandoned his dormitory in New York City and take shelter with his aunt and his cousins in rural Massachusetts.
Mary took a sip of her coffee and shrugged at her nephew. "I don't know what to tell you, Jordan. We're all going a little crazy around here. Do a puzzle. Read a book. Take a walk. Find a way to keep yourself busy. Frances and Robbie are dealing with this situation. You need to, too. I know how much you like to keep busy, but this is the way the world is tight now, honey."
"They're on their phones talking to friends twenty-four-seven, Aunt Mary. That would drive me crazy, too! I've done all the puzzles I can find and I've been taking, like, four walks a day. I don't mind being alone, in fact, I kind of prefer it, but I need something to do, something to fix, something to make. I can't believe there's no tools in this house at all!"
The truth was, Jordan didn't have a lot of friends to talk to, anyway. He'd always preferred to be alone and found nearly any social interaction uncomfortable. He was a tinkerer and always had some kind of a project on his workbench, even in his dorm. It was this quality that was allowing him to excel as a mechanical engineering major.
Mary considered Jordan's whining for a few moments. She'd always found the boy fascinating - intense and intelligent about anything mechanical. A ball of kinetic energy squeezed into his tiny, five foot-one body. She could see he was desperate to keep his hands busy.
Two months ago, when the virus' impact on New York City started closing the city down, Jordan had no place to go. His parents, both physicians, had taken advantage of their son moving out and going to college to sell their home and sign on to work with Doctors Without Boarders. They'd found themselves in China at the start of the pandemic and could not, in good conscience, leave while the population around them suffered the impact of the disease. When Mary's older sister called and asked if Jordan could stay with her and her stepdaughters, who, at that time, were also headed home from their respective colleges, she was more than willing to have him join them in their old, twenty four room farmhouse. Plenty of room! Of course, no one expected the quarantine to last this long, let alone go on without end. Certainly Jordan didn't. He showed up with a couple of days clothes and his bamboo fiber pillow and not much else. Already, clothing was an issue for Jordan. When his clothes needed to be laundered, he was resorting to wearing one of his cousin Roberta's old bath robes, which hung far too loosely from his meager frame.
A thought occurred to Mary. "Jordan, I just thought of something! There IS a small toolbox in the house. It's in your great grandmother's sewing room out in the old servant's wing. Come with me and I'll dig it out for you."
"Cool!" The boy jumped up, excited.
The eighteenth century behemoth of a house had, at one time, had servants' quarters which had never had a heating system installed. When Jordan arrived in March, it was too cold to go exploring in that wing. Now that the beginning of May was bringing warmer weather, he was excited to go exploring. So, he followed his aunt up the stairs.
"What's up?" Frances asked as she ran into her stepmother and cousin in the hallway.
"Jordan and I are going to dig out the tool box in great grandma's sewing room."
Frances, the older daughter of Mary's late husband's first marriage was a good head taller than her step mother and at least another half a head taller than her cousin. "Oh, good. Maybe that'll occupy you're A.D.D., Jordie!" she teased.
"You guys are the ones with A.D.D.," he teased back, good naturedly. "I just need to keep my hands busy to help me think."
"If you'd like to play video games with us," Robbie, Frances' younger sister, called from the upstairs den, "you're always welcome!"
Jordan smiled at the offer. "Thanks, but I don't really know how to play video games."
"Ok," Ronnie turned her attention back to the game, "but the offer stands. You're always welcome."
"Thanks, Robbie."
Robbie was nearly the same size as her step mother, but a bit bustier. Both girls were very good looking without being overly into makeup of expensive clothes. They both preferred dresses to skirts or pants, but they had their tomboy qualities, too, especially when it came to their 'win at all costs' instinct when playin video games. The few times that he had joined them for a round of Mortal Combat or even Candy Crush, he found himself destroyed by their aggressive manner of gaming.
Mary continued down the hall and pulled back the heavy curtain that hid the door to the servants' wing and kept the cold air out of the rest of the house in the depth of Massachusetts winters.
The first room on the right, which had once been the servant's common room, was the largest of the rooms in that wing and when Mary's grandparents had bought the house in the nineteen fifties, her grandmother had claimed that room as her sewing room.
Mary opened the door and led him into the shelves of carefully stored bolts of fabric and file cabinets neatly filled with sewing patterns.
"Wow!" Jordan looked around. "She was serious about sewing, huh?"
Mary laughed. "She was, but she was also a pack-rat and never threw away anything. I haven't had the heart to clean the room since she passed away. Look around, now. There is a green tool box on one of these shelves."
After a few moments of searching, Jordan said, "Here it is!"
He pulled the box out and placed it on the large table in the center of the room. His excitement at finding the toolbox dissipated when he opened it and found nothing but a tack hammer and a selection of very small screwdrivers.
Mary saw his shoulders slump at the revelation. "I'm sorry, Jordie." She rubbed his shoulders. "I didn't know what was in it. I guess these were just for grandma to fix her sewing machine."
Jordan nodded, then said, "Machine?"
"What?"
"You said 'machine.' Is there a sewing machine here?"
Mary smiled at his excitement. "Yes. It's in that black case behind you, but it hasn't worked in decades. Grandma gave up sewing because of her arthritis and my mom only used it for occasional repairs. I remember the last time it was out was when your mom ripped her winter coat and my mom tried to sew it back up. She couldn't get it to work, so it got put in its case and left here."
May I look at it!?" Jordan was suddenly very engaged.
"Of course," Mary smiled.
"It's heavy," Jordan grunted as he lifted it up onto the table.
"It's a professional model," Mary said, whetting his interest even more.
When he opened the lid, the machine was still covered in thread and looked as if it was ready to use, but it also looked overly complicated, which piqued his interest even more.
"Umm, Aunt Mary... would you mind of I took a shot at getting this working, again? I mean, it's already broken, so I can't do any harm, and I could go online and see what I could find out about it... I think I might be able to get it working for you!"
Mary didn't have the heart to tell the boy that no one was really looking to use the machine, and if anyone actually had an interest in sewing, a new machine would probably be a lot easier to operate and wouldn't cost all that much, anyway. So, rather than discourage him, she smiled and said, "You know what, Jordan - that would be a great help! I'd love to have a working sewing machine around here. If you can get that working again, I'd be very grateful!"
Jordan was suddenly smiling. "Great! Let me just take a picture of the model number and I'll go online and see what I can find out. This is awesome! I'm excited!"
Mary smiled. "I'm glad honey. This should keep you busy for a few weeks."
"Ahem." Mary cleared her throat as they all ate the chicken pie that she'd made for supper.
Frances and Robbie looked at their cousin, then back at each other, smiling. When Robbie glanced at her mother, Mary jerked her head towards the boy and said, 'Ahem," once again.
Giggling, Robbie knocked on the table in front of the tablet that had captured Jordan's attention. He jumped a bit and looked about, confused.
"Mom's been trying to get your attention, Jordie," Robbie laughed.
"I'm sorry," he muttered. "What...?" It was more of a question or 'What's going on?' than 'What do you want?'
"At this point," Mary said with a matronly air, "I wouldn't think that I'd have to say this, but meal time is family conversation time, Jordie. Now, put that iPad away until after dinner."
"The iPad?" It took a moment for him to reentered the reality of the kitchen.
"Yes." Mary stifled the giggle and maintained the matronly delivery.
"Oh..." He closed the cover on his iPad and placed it on a side table.
"So-" Mary looked around. "What's new with everyone?"
Frances laughed now. "Nothing's new, mom. It's been the same old same old for two months, now. We get up, we do the busy week we get from school, we play some video games, clean a little bit around the house, have dinner, watch a little TV and go to bed. What's new with you?"
Mary shrugged. "Nothing I guess. I can't wait to have clients coming back to the salon. I feel a bit useless around here."
"Oh, mom," Robbie said, remembering something, "Alison's mother asked if she could buy some of her hair dye from you. Alison says that her mom's roots are really showing."
Mary nodded. "Tell her that I'll go out to the salon tomorrow and get it ready for her. I'll put it in a paper bag with her name on it on the table out front. She can come by and pick it up when it's convenient for her. Tell her to leave the money in the Mason jar on the picnic table."
The two seat beauty salon that Mary's late husband had built for her in the barn was initially meant to be just a little side-money for Mary while the girls were at school. Then, when her husband dies very suddenly, it became their sole income, but she did manage to make a good living. Now, after two months of quarantine... well, the money in the bank account, much of which came from her husband's insurance policy, wasn't going to last forever.
She didn't want to dwell on that, though.
"How about you, Jordie?" She changed her train of thought. "What were you so engrossed in?"
"Me?" Jordan seemed surprised that he'd been included in the conversation, he to be honest, he always seemed a bit disconnected from his surroundings.
Frances shook her head. "Yes, Jordie. You. Mom asked what you were reading on your iPad?"
"Oh... um... I found the schematics for great grandma's sewing machine and I was trying to get my head around it. It's a surprisingly complicated little machine." He went on a two minute explanation of the complex nature of the Mis-twentieth century device, describing it in terms that made no sense to the three women at the table. "I'm looking forward to getting to work on it tomorrow." His previously vacant expression had been replaced by a big smile.
Robbie reached over and squeezed his hand in hers. "You know you're like the biggest nerd in the world, right?" Her smile told Jordan that she meant no malice, but was just playing with him.
"Alright, Roberta." Mary's matronly tone was back. "Stop teasing your cousin."
"I'm not teasing, mom. I'm stating the obvious, right Jordie?"
"Sure," he chuckled. "I mean, calling me a nerd is like calling a basketball player tall. It's just the truth. I don't mind at all. I call myself a nerd all the time."
"Well, enough of that for now. Let's just finish our dinner and be nice to each other."
After a few moments of silence, Frances asked, "Mom, maybe when you go out to the salon, do you think that Robbie and I could get our hair trimmed?"
Mary smiled. "Sure, honey. Are you looking for a change, or just a trim?"
"Just a trim for me, mom. To neaten it up."
"Yeah, me too," Robbie nodded, swallowing a piece of chicken pie.
"Ok," Mary smiled. "No problem."
Then she spied her nephew glancing to his right to try to sneak a peek at his iPad. "How about you, Jordie?"
"Hmm?" He looked at his aunt, knowing he'd been caught obsessing on his project. "How about me, what?"
She smiled. "Tomorrow morning, when I go out to the salon to make up the hair dye for my customer, can I neaten up your hair while I'm neatening up the girls'?"
"My hair?" It seemed odd to Jordan. "Auntie, I haven't cut my hair in... in years."
"Yes, I know, and it looks like that. In fact, it's been driving me crazy since you arrived. So, tomorrow, come out to the salon while I'm working and I'll neaten it up for you."
She could see that he was about to protest, so she spoke again. "Don't worry, Jordan, I am not going to give you a crew cut. I'm just going to trim up those split ends and get some of those nasty mats and snarls out. I'm sure that you'd feel better if we could actually run a comb through that rat's nest on your head."
"But I have to work on..." he began, but Mary held up her hand in a 'this is my final word' gesture.
"No more discussion. One of these days we are going to be able to leave this house and when we do, we are going to look like proper human beings. So - tomorrow. Nine o'clock. Out in the salon. All of us. The Queen has spoken."
"But..."
"The sewing machine can wait, Jordie. It's been sitting there for a decade or more. It's not going anywhere. Let's deal with some self-care first. We'll all feel better if we get cleaned up a little. That was an excellent suggestion, Frannie. Now, I've made butterscotch pudding for dessert, so let's finish up so we can all enjoy that."
At seven thirty the next morning, Mary stepped out of the shower, toweled off, put on her robe and headed back to her room to dress, but she stopped when she heard a noise coming from an unusual part of the house. It was an odd sound, too - like - scratching and movement and small grunts and groans. What the heck was that?
She moved quietly down the hall, fearful that a raccoon or, God help us, a possum, had gotten into the less used part of the house. As she passed the doorway where the heavy winter drapes hung, and prepared to step into the servant's quarters, the sound grew louder. She stopped, then realized that the sound was coming from the first room on the right - grandma's sewing room.
She relaxed a little and peeked in to find Jordan, disheveled as usual, lost in his work, pieces of the sewing machine laid neatly on grandma's work table.
There was that intensity that always amazed her about this boy. His peculiar genius was on display. She'd seen this intellect in him since he was a child and it never failed to amaze her.
Mary and her sister had remained close throughout their life and when Jordie was little, Mary had him with her almost as much as his own mother did. Mary married late, she was in her late thirties, and with her husband came the children he'd had with his late, first wife. Frances, a year older than Jordie and Robbie a year younger, had been good to their new cousin, but, Jordan being Jordan, he had a hard time relating to his peers, particularly female peers who seemed to vex him more than males.
"You're at it early," she said, surprising him a bit.
"Oh... yeah... I didn't wake you, did I? Sorry if I did."
"No, honey, you're not apt to wake anyone out here. I was up and heard you, though. How about I make you an egg sandwich in a half an hour or so, then, when the girls are ready, we can go out to the salon and get ourselves cleaned up?"
Jordan sighed. "Oh, gee, auntie, I don't know. I'm just getting this underway and..."
"No, Jordie, we discussed this. You know how you can get when you're focused on a project. You need to set boundaries."
"...but..."
"No 'buts,' Jordie. You've been like this since you got your first Lego set. You shut the world out and you're hyper focused for days on end. Now, that'll be a great thing when you're older and working for NASA, but for now, you need to focus on not only that machine, but on your health and well being. When this is all over, I will not be put into the position of having to explain to your parents that you got sick because you didn't eat right or keep yourself clean. Set an alarm on your phone - thirty minutes from now, you are to be in the kitchen. Understood?"
He heaved a huge sigh. "Understood."
"Good." She smiled. He was a great kid, but he could lose himself too easily. His mother and father were always wrapped up in their own worlds, too. This hiatus from the world could be good Jordie. Maybe a different kind of structure was just what the boy needed. He needed a new perspective on the world. "You're a good kid, Jordie."
He looked up and smiled at his aunt, a little confused by her smile. "Thanks, auntie. I'll be down in thirty minutes."
"Ok," Mary stepped into the small salon in her barn, "Robbie, you jump into the blue chair and Jordie, you jump into the yellow one. I'll wash Robbie's hair and Frannie, you wash Jordie's. Give him two shampooing and," she paused and grabbed a plastic bottle from a cabinet shelf, "condition his hair with this. It's a de-tangler. Let it sit for ten minutes or so before you rinse. Maybe that will help untangle that rat's nest and I won't have to shave him bald."
"Auntie...!" Jordan began to protest, but Francis patted him on the chest and guided him towards the yellow seat.
"She's kidding, Jordie. Relax," his oldest cousin said.
He sat and Francis reclined the seat so that his head was in a sink. As soon as she began to run the water through his hair, though, she realized that her mother wasn't kidding, not completely, anyway. "Whoa, your hair really is tangled, Jordie. When was the last time you brushed it?"
He shrugged. "I don't really think about how my hair looks. I wash it and I dry it with a towel. That's all."
"Well, young fellow," she teased, "this is your lucky day, because by the time mom is done with you, your going to be able to feel air on your scalp for the first time in..." she tried to run her fingers through his wet hair, "... in forever... I'd guess."
It was an odd feeling for Jordan to have someone else shampoo his hair. He wasn't really a 'touchy-feely' kind of guy, in fact, he didn't really like being touched all that much. That is, until...
Since he was a little boy, Jordan knew that he was different than the other kids. He didn't hug his parents the way other kids did. He didn't like to touch certain textures. He didn't make friends..
...but then there was his Aunt Mary. She kind of 'got' him in a way that no one else did. As far back as he could remember, Aunt Mary never looked at him like he was weird. She had a look that just said, 'We Are Family.'
He remembered going to Aunt Mary's wedding when he was eleven. He was actually angry with her husband. He seemed like an ok guy, but he was taking Auntie Mary away from him. He was providing her with two girls to bring up. She wouldn't need him any more.
But then, the weirdest thing happened.
The girls...
They were just as nice and welcoming as Auntie Mary. At first he figured that she must have told the girls to be nice to her weird nephew, but that wasn't the case at all. They were just genuinely nice people and they seemed to like him, too. Just like Aunt Mary did.
Whenever he saw Aunt Mary or the girls, each visit began and ended with a hug from each of them, and it was odd... he liked their hugs... a lot. He actually looked forward to seeing them and when the girls would touch his arm or leg while they were talking, or fooling around playing a board game or something, he liked that, too.
In the last two months, though, he'd been touched and hugged and even kissed on his cheeks dozens of times every day! He should be horrified, but... it was great and he looked forward to each hug, touch and kiss.
So, he wasn't really a 'touchy-feely' kind of guy, in fact, he didn't really like being touched all that much. That is, until...
... now.
Now, these familial gestures felt wonderful. Like friendship. Like family. Like love.
After the de-tangler conditioner had been in Jordan's hair for ten minutes, Francis rinsed it as best she could. "I don't know, mom," she said quite seriously, "it's still pretty bad. Should I condition his hair, again?"
"No, no." Mary continued to trim Robbie's hair. "The rinse can only do so much. I'll work on him as soon as I'm done with Robbie. It's a long, slow process. I have to start on the edges of the mat and slowly pull it apart."
"Ewww." Francis made a face. "Sounds painful. I don't envy you, Jordie."
"Oh, stop it," Mary laughed. "I've untangled the hair of people with dreadlocks. I can handle a messy boy."
It was, in fact, a challenge, even for a pro like Mary, to remove all of Jordan's mats, but two hours later and with a minimal amount of cutting, she was finally able to run a comb through his hair.
Mary breathed a heavy sigh. "That was a challenge!" She laughed as she looked at her newly de-tangler nephew sitting in her 'styling' chair. "Before I trim off your split ends, Jordie, I'm going to have Robbie wash your hair once more, using a medicated shampoo. Your hair was so matted that you actually have some sores on your scalp and the medicated shampoo will help to clean those. It may sting a little, but the choice is either start healing your scalp with some daily maintenance, or we shave you bald, right now."
"Don't shave it off, auntie," he said a bit shocked at the idea. "I'll do whatever needs to be done to heal it."
"That's a good boy," Mary chuckled, patting his shoulder. "Franny, come sit in the chair and I'll take care of you while Robbie shampoos your cousin."
"Ok, mom," Frances said as she took the seat that Jordie was vacating.
"Right this way, sir," Robbie teased as she used a towel and snapped it on the seat, pretending to clean it. "I think you'll like this seat. It's well padded and has a lovely view of the ceiling."
Jordan stopped for a moment and looked from his cousin to the ceiling, not understanding her teasing.
"Just sit, Jordie," Robbie giggled. "I'm just joking."
"Ow!" Jordan let out when the medicated shampoo hit his scalp.
"I haven't even touched you," Robbie laughed.
"It stings. It stings a lot!" Jordan said very concerned.
"Jordie," Mary never took her focus off of Frances' hair, "you let your hair get so matted that it stopped the flow of air to your scalp. You have some serious sores there. They will start healing in a day or so if you let us treat it. Otherwise, you'll end up getting your head shaved in a hospital so they can treat it, and, baby, if you go into a hospital right now, having your head shaved may be the least of your concerns."
Robbie looked at her cousin with sympathy. "You're ok, though, right, Jordie. I mean, I want to wash your hair for you, but I don't want to hurt you."
He nodded. "I'm ok, I guess."
"Ok, I'll be gentle." Robbie continued to work, using the hand held shower head to work on his scalp as gently as possible.
"That's funny that you called him, 'baby,' mom," Frances mentioned. "I don't think I've ever heard you call anyone by that name."
Mary smiled. "I used to always call Jordie my baby," she glanced over to be sure that her quiet words were covered by the sound of the water.
"Yeah?"
"Sure. He was kind of my baby, Franny. You know my sister and her husband. They're brilliant, but... well... I guess 'clinical' is the perfect word. I think they learned to compartmentalize their feelings because of their careers as doctors. You treat dying people day in and day out... it does something to you. That took its toll on Jordie, too. You girls... from everything I know, your mom doted on you both and, of course I know how much your dad loved you."
As Mary was combing her bangs out, Frances grabbed her stepmother's hand and pulled it to her lips, kissing her knuckles and hugging the hand. "And don't forget you, mom. You made us feel loved when we were trying to figure out why God had taken our mother away from us. You've always been our mom, too."
Mary smiled at the twenty one year old in front of her. She was beautiful without trying, just like her sister. Maybe that had to do with how beautiful she actually was inside. This was a prime example of her beauty. Neither Frances nor Robbie ever let Mary forget that they thought of her as their mom, that she occupied the same place in their hearts as did their late mother and father.
"You're a blessing." Mary kissed her forehead. "You and Robbie both. Always have been. Always will be." She leaned forward and rested her forehead against the side of Franny's. "Even if I'd found someone when I was younger, I could never have given birth, but... I could not love you and Robbie more if I'd carried you in my own womb."
She sighed at how lucky she was and went back to trimming Frances' bangs.
As Robbie wrung out Jordan's hair, she said, "Jordie, you need to throw that shirt out. It's filled with holes, and... and I hope I don't offend you, but... it smells of body odor." She wrapped his hair in a turban and helped him to sit up.
"I know, but it's the last shirt I have left. I only brought three and I wore out the other, two."
Frances kept her head steady, but glanced over as Jordie sat, legs splayed, in the shampoo chair. "Whoa! You need more than a shirt, Jordie! You're putting on a heck of a show, right now!"
"Oh, sorry!" Jordan turned red as he snapped his knees together.
Not having seen, Mary turned and looked at her red faced nephew. "What did I miss?"
"All I said was that he needed to throw out his shirt." Robbie shrugged. "It's ripped and smells."
Mary sighed. She couldn't afford to buy new clothes, right now. Money was too tight.
"His pants are ripped, too, mom," Frances said. "Right up the crotch."
Mary shook her head. "Show me," she said, more sternly than usual.
Jordan just shook his head.
"Jordan James Alden," she scolded. "I will not ask you again."
Jordan just looked the floor and shook his head.
Sensing Mary's impatience and a little upset that she'd been so indiscreet, Frances said, "Mom... he can't... he's not wearing underwear."
"What!?" Mary was shocked. "Why on earth not?"
Jordan just wanted to crawl into a hole and die, but he answered, nonetheless. "I only brought two pairs and they were already old. I had to throw them out. I asked dad to help and he said he'd figure out how to set up an Amazon gift card for a few hundred dollars so that I could get new clothes, but... that was back in March. He never followed through and I haven't heard from either him or mom since then."
"Alright, alright, alright..." Mary shook her head in frustration. Her sister and brother-in-law were both very successful and, as a result, they were a wealthy family. This adventure with Doctors Without Boarders was the first truly selfless thing either of them had ever done - even going into the medical profession was purely a financial decision. Unfortunately for Jordan, though, they'd ended up in China just prior to the most contagious outbreak in at least a century, possibly in history.
Also, unfortunately for Jordan, Mary was stretched just about as thin as she possibly could be before her financial elasticity snapped. They had food in the extra fridge and freezer and, living in a rural area meant that there was plenty of small farms selling meat, so they were getting by, but they were one financial challenge away from oblivion.
"Why on earth didn't you tell me about this, Jordie? I don't want you living in rags." Mary shook her head.
"Because... well... you've been so generous already, auntie, and, well, I don't have any money and I know that you haven't been working, so... there's really nothing I can do."
Sadly, he was right. "Well... we'll finish up in here and... we'll figure something out. In the meantime, Robbie, drape a towel over his lap, please."
When Mary finished trimming Frances' hair, she went to work on Jordan's. "Oh, my..." she looked through his hair and inspected his scalp. "Robbie, go into the first aid kit and get some Neosporin for me. Franny, grab some Q-Tips. Jordie, I'm going to put some medication on some spots on your scalp. It won't hurt. Ok?"
"Ok."
She coated a swab with the ointment and worked for a few minutes before becoming frustrated.
"Your hair is curling as it dries," Mary said through a frustrated exhale. "Honey... I'm going to use a flat iron to straighten your hair so that I can see what I'm doing. It won't hurt, either, but I need to keep your hair out of the medication as much as possible. Ok?"
"Sure, I guess." Jordan shrugged, really wanting to leave the salon and get back to his sewing machine project.
The smell of the flat iron on his hair was like nothing he'd ever smelled before, but Mary assured him that it was normal for the iron to burn, a little.
"Good heavens, Jordie," Mary marveled as she looked at the completely straightened crop of hair on her nephew's head, "without all the mats and after straightening the curls, your hair touches your shoulders." She chortled a bit. "I had no idea that you had this much length."
"Wow," Franny smiled, "it actually looks nice, Jordie. I'd almost say it was pretty."
"Look at how nice it looks," Mary turned him towards the mirror. "Nice, huh?"
"How did you do that?" he asked.
"Do what, baby?"
"I mean... did you add artificial hair pieces or something? My hair isn't that long."
Mary and the girls all thought that was funny. "Of course it is, Jordie," Mary laughed. "Its just been all curled up and matted. This is how long your hair actually is and every morning for the next week or so, you are going to have to come out here with one of us so we can straighten your hair and check on those sores on your head."
"Everyday!?"
"Everyday, baby. I want you to be healthy, and those sores are serious business. Understood?"
"Yes, ma'm," Jordan sulked.
"Good. Now let me just neaten up a few things and we'll go into the house and figure out how to deal with your clothing issues."
Robbie took Jordan into the house while Franny and Mary took care of reorganizing the salon.
"Mom," Franny asked, tentatively, not wanting to sound too judgmental, "Is Jordan... I mean... is he ok? You know... mentally?"
Mary stopped to think of the correct answer.
"Look, mom, I'm just asking. I think he's a great kid and I've always enjoyed spending time with him on holidays and all, but we've never been with him this long before, and..." she could see her stepmother searching for the right words and, not wanting to upset her she withdrew the question. "Never mind, mom. I guess that's kind of rude, huh?"
"No, honey, it's not rude. It's an honest question and I'm trying to think of an honest answer. Jordie has always been... different. Small. Delicate. Intense. Overly focused on the tiniest things. He has a hard time with new people and new situations. He stresses over everything, but... the boy is brilliant, Franny. He's brilliant in ways that my sister could never see. He's a great student, sure, but I have never known anyone who understood how everything - and I mean EVERYTHING - works the way that he does. He's got the most mechanical mind I've ever seen, but it's almost all concrete-thought. His imagination is... let's just say - under-developed. I was really hoping that spending time with you girls might open him up to some creative thinking a bit and some socialization, but..."
Frances nodded. "You should have told us, mom. We would have worked harder to get him to join in with us."
Mary shook her head. "No. It can't be forced, Franny. He needs to open up to us of his own free will."
"Was he ever tested? You know, for autism or Aspergers? Or anything like that?"
"Oh... I doubt it, honey, but that would just put a label on what I've always known. He's a great kid, honey, and if he could apply the creative side of his mind even half as well as he applies the concrete thinking side, there's no telling what he could accomplish."
"So... how can we help?"
Mary kissed her stepdaughter's forehead. "By being patient with him and showing him as much love and acceptance as possible, even if he does come across as a little odd. Remember - Jordie isn't weird. He's family. Just treat him like family and he'll find his way."
"Ok," Frances nodded as she processed all that had been said, "but to start, I think I might have something in my dresser that might help him."
"These are the only pant-bottoms I have," Robbie said, holding out a pair of dark green leggings. "I'm sorry. Try them on. They're pretty comfortable. I bought them for gym class in middle school."
Jordan took the leggings tentatively, and nodded.
"They're just pants, Jordie. They're better than what you're wearing. I'm sure mom will work something out soon."
Again, he just nodded.
"Oh, good," They heard Frances in the next room. "Hey," she said as she entered Robbie's room, "I found these in my drawers. I bought them back in the fall and they got the size wrong. I meant to return them, but I forgot about them until now."
She handed him a package made of soft, plastic sheeting. On the front of the package, the label read, 'Six Pack, Boy Shorts, Hipster, Small."
The Jockey brand underwear had a 'Y-front,' just like men's underwear, but the colors wear very different than any underwear he'd ever seen. Pinks, and purples, and one had flowers on it.
"They fit just like your tightie-whities, without the added pouch, of course. The Y-front is just for design. They don't really open."
"Then why are they made to look like they'll open?"
Frances shrugged. "I don't know. It makes them cuter, I guess."
"Cuter?" Jordan found that idea perplexing. "Why would that be cuter?"
Frances looked to Robbie and shrugged. "I don't know, Jordie. I guess it's just cute to think of a woman wearing little boys' underwear."
"Really?" He just couldn't fathom why that would be.
"Well, putting that aside," Frances giggled, "at least you'll have some underwear."
He nodded and shrugged. "Ok. Thanks."
He started to leave, but Franny stopped him. "Jordie? You know that we are here to help you, right? If you need something... don't go without. Just tell us and we'll do whatever we can. Ok?"
He nodded. "Ok. I guess I just didn't want to be a bother."
"You're not a bother, Jordie. You're family."
Jordie nodded and then, slowly, smiled. "Thanks." He left to try on the clothes.
"What was that all about?" Robbie asked.
Frances smiled. "I was just talking to mom..."
A few minutes later, Jordan returned wearing the green leggings with the lace insets on the side of each leg. He was carrying his ripped trousers in front of him.
"Well, those look good," Robbie said, encouragingly. "How do they feel?" She moves behind him
"Not bad," Jordan ran a hand up and down the thigh of his right leg. "Kind of clingy, but I guess that's how they're supposed to feel, right?"
"That's right," Franny nodded, inspecting the leggings. "I assume the boy shorts fit ok, too. You are wearing them, aren't you?"
He nodded. "They sit a little low, but they fit fine, too."
"Good. Lift up your shirt and let me see where the waistband sits."
He put his old trousers down on Robbie's bed and lifted his shirt. Robbie, who was behind her cousins, said, "They fit perfectly. In fact, your butt looks better in those than mine did. So, at least we've got one pair of pants to get you through today."
"Ahem," Franny cleared her throat and laughed a little. "Houston; we have a problem up front."
"What's the prob..." Robbie started to say, but stopped when she moved to his front. "Oh, my," she laughed.
"What?" Jordan looked down, confused.
"Oh, nothing to worry about," Robbie laughed. "It just kind of looks like you're smuggling a bunch or grapes in your leggings."
"What?" Jordan was still flummoxed.
"Oh, stop," Franny gave her sister a soft slap on the arm. "It's nothing, Jordie. It's just that we can see that you're a healthy young man. That's all."
"Very healthy, apparently," Robbie joked.
Franny rolled her eyes at her sister. "Do you remember that tunic you used to wear in middle school all the time. You know the one I mean. I used to call you a hippy when you wore it?"
"Yeah. Why?"
"Because it's long enough to cover up his... junk. Go get it."
"Oh. Good idea," she agreed and pulled it out of her closet. "I love this top. It's too pretty to get rid of."
"Perfect," Franny smiled. "Take off that ratty tee shirt, Jordie, and put this on."
He pulled off his hole ridden tee shirt and dropped it on the bed with his ripped trousers. Franny held the shirt open and helped him slide it over his arms and head. She pulled it down and it sat nicely on his shoulders, reaching to a couple of inches down his thighs.
"See?" Franny said to Robbie. "Just like I said. Perfect."
"Perfect?" Jordan said, looking at the garment. "The stupid sleeves are too short and floppy, the bottom is too long and the whole thing is covered in flowers and lace!"
The tunic was a classic peasant style. Very soft cotton with a V-necked opening, half-sleeves that formed a wide bell to the delicately pleated shoulder seam. The luxuriously wide sleeve openings were edged with a wide band of flower-shaped lace. There was an elastic waist that gave the wearer, who was meant to be a young, developing girl, the illusion of mature, feminine hips. The most distinguishing feature of the garment was the embroidery that ran in a wide band around the bottom hem and neck opening. It was a repeated pattern of red and yellow flowers with green leaves and a pretty little daisy chain connecting each floral pattern from one to the next.
It was adorable and it fit Jordan just perfectly and both of those things confused and bothered him.
"The sleeves are not 'stupid,'" Robbie said with a touch of hurt in her voice, "and they're not 'too short.' They are exactly the right length and the lace accentuates the bell sleeve. And, yes, it is covered in flowers, but so what? I've seen plenty of pictures, from the old days, of male rock stars wearing shirts like this and they wore them to look cool."
Jordan turned to look in a mirror that stood on a frame in the corner. The long, straight hair was weird enough, but the clothes just enhanced the impression that he was trying to look like a woman.
"Look, Jordie," Franny stood beside him and put an arm around his shoulders, it was a gesture that very few people ever did towards Jordan and, under normal circumstances, he would have shaken off the other person's touch - unless it was Aunt Mary, of course - but, for some reason, he accepted it. It felt comforting and she was, after all, family. "I know this isn't a perfect solution, but at least you're in clean, comfortable clothes, right?"
"I guess," he pouted a bit, "but don't you have any jeans or anything?"
Franny glanced at her sister who shook her head in the negative. "None that would fit you, I'm afraid. The truth is, we really only ever wore pants of any kind when we were required to. Our mom - our biological mom, I mean - she grew up in a religious sect that required women to only wear dresses and, even though she'd left that religion before we were born, she was never comfortable in pants and she brought us up to always were dresses. We don't even have many skirts. Robbie and I just grew up wearing dresses all the time. I guess we kind of did it to honor her memory and mom - you know, our mom, now - always indulged us with that. Sorry."
He fingered the soft material of the blouse. It was very comfortable and softer than anything he usually wore. "Ok. I guess it'll be ok, but..." he lifted the material to his face and sniffed it, "... it even smells like flowers."
Franny smelled his shoulder and smiled at Robbie. "It does."
Robbie stepped over to them and took a whiff, then giggled. "Oh, my God. That's 'Truly Yours' body spray. I used to slather myself in that in middle school. Everything I touched smelled like that. It's pretty, isn't it?"
"Yeah, I guess," Jordan shrugged.
"Well, it certainly smells a lot better than that dirty old tee shirt you've been wearing." She joined Jordan in looking into the mirror. "Look at you. Clean, straight hair, clean clothes... it feels good to be clean, doesn't it?" She put her arm around him, too, and planted a loud, sloppy kiss on the side of his head. "You look nice, Jordie. Enjoy it."
"Yeah, ok," he smiled, enjoying, more than he would have expected, the feel of both of his cousins standing so close and touching him. They'd always been very nice to him, but... well... this was different. They weren't just being nice to him, they were... maybe, including him was the right way to put it. He liked that. A lot.
"Later, we'll see what we can find for tomorrow," Franny said, "but how about a we watch a little TV or something?"
"Umm," Jordan looked at their pretty faces in the mirror, "I'd like that, I really would, but... would you mind if I got back to working on that sewing machine? I really want to rebuild that and see if I can get it working."
"That's fine, Jordie," Franny smiled.
"He let you put your arms around him!?" Mary was in a very pleased state of shock. Jordan DID NOT like to be touched by anyone, but he always made an exception for his aunt. She and her daughters were busy preparing a roast chicken dinner for supper that evening.
"Yep!" Robbie smiled. "I even kissed him, right here, on the side of his head."
"Girls," Mary shook her head in disbelief, "that's huge. Keep engaging him, please. That boy needs social interaction in the worst way."
"You should have mentioned it earlier, mom," Franny said as she lined the roasting pan with aluminum foil. "We were kind of giving him his own space."
"I know, honey, and he needs that, too. I'm so glad we found this sewing machine project for him. That should keep him busy for a few days, at least."
"I hate to disappoint you, mom," Robbie chuckled, "but we heard the sewing machine running before we came down to help you. I think he's already fixed it."
"Oh, great," Mary shook her head, "now I'll have to break the microwave so that he can fix THAT for me."
Just then, they heard the sound of someone coming down the stairs, so they all turned, expecting to see Jordan enter wearing his new clothing, which is exactly what they saw, but he was also wearing a bib apron that was made from rather old fashioned looking, brightly flowered material and had ruffles around all the edges.
"Hi," he said as he stood in the doorway, one hand behind his back and wondering at their stunned silence.
"That's a..." Robbie stopped to giggle a little, "...a lovely apron you're wearing, Jordie."
He looked down and was actually a bit surprised he was still wearing it. "Oh... yeah... the clothes you gave me don't have pockets... so... this does and it made it easier to work." He reached into a large pocket that ran across the front of the midsection of the apron and pulled out two pairs of pliers, one a standard pair, the other a needle nosed pair. "See?"
"Oh," Mary smiled as she crossed the room to him and straightening the shoulder straps. "Well, it suits you, Jordie. It was your great grandmothers. I'm glad that you're using it."
"Oh, ok, good, I guess, thanks, but..." he was obviously excited about something, "... so I got the sewing machine working and I made you something. Here." He pulled his arm around from behind his back and presented his aunt with folded parcel of plaid material.
"What's this?" she asked with a smile.
"Well, I noticed that you didn't have a curtain in the window over the sink," he indicated where he meant and Mary and the girls all glanced over there to see that there was an old fashioned, wrought iron curtain rod mounted, but naked, in that spot, "and this is the same material that the other curtains are maid of, so I made you a short curtain to go up there. I guess it's called a valance. It'll just cover the top half of the top window sash."
Mary unfolded the material to reveal a nicely cut and neatly hemmed piece of material with the obvious pocket sewn into the top to accept the curtain rod. It looked store bought, it was so well made.
"Jordie...? How could you have made this?" Mary was astounded.
"Easy! It's just like following blue prints."
"But... you never used a sewing machine before. How did you know how to use it?"
"Youtube! I watched a few videos to learn how to run the thread and stuff, then I tried it on some material - it was easy. I mean, I only know how to do a couple of types of stitches, but the videos said that was enough to get started. So I looked in the file drawers up there and found a bunch of patterns, all neatly filed. This looked like the easiest one to start with, but I already have another project started. It should be done in a few hours. Here, let me put that up."
He took the valance and climbed up to kneel next to the sink, revealing the smartly tied, puffy bow in the back of his apron, pulled down the curtain rod, slid it into the curtain pocket and put it back up. It was a perfect fit, more than filling the space and allowing for the curtain to bunch up in spots and create gentle waves.
"Jordie... that's just perfect," Mary gushed. "I can't believe you made that without anyone teaching you how. I'm so impressed!"
"Thanks, Aunt Mary. I'm working on something else, too, so I'm going back upstairs. I should be done in three or four hours."
"Ok, but you'll need to take time out for dinner. It'll be ready in an hour and fifteen minutes."
He was already hurrying out the doorway and towards the stairs. "I'll go without dinner tonight, thanks, auntie."
"You'll do no such thing!" Mary called after him. "Set the timer on your phone, Jordie! One hour and fifteen minutes from now, I want you back down here and I want a nice, relaxed dinner for the four of us." She raised her voice to be sure that he could still hear her as he put distance between them. "If you can't finish whatever you're making tonight, it can wait until tomorrow. Do you hear me, Jordie!"
"Yes ma'm," he called back from a distance. "One hour and fifteen minutes."
When she turned back into the kitchen, Robbie and Franny were both admiring the valance.
"See," Mary smiled as she joined them, "I told you he's brilliant, but you have to set parameters for him." She reaches up and touched the valance. "I'm very concerned, though."
"About what, mom?" Robbie asked.
"Well," Mary heaved a heavy sigh for effect, "there's only about half a warehouse of material up there. Of he gets too focused, he'll blow through that in a week and we'll have more new curtains than we'll know what to do with - then what will we do?"
The girls laughed.
He'd come down for dinner, just as he'd been instructed. He'd patiently sat through diner and dessert and answered questions when asked, occasionally offering long winded explanations about the inner workings of the sewing machine he'd repaired, to which the women reacted with nods and smiles and words of encouragement.
The moment that dessert was done and the dishes were stacked in the washer, he disappeared again into the sewing room.
A little after eight that evening, Mary remarked to the girls as they watched TV, "I'd better give your cousin a one hour warning. He's not going to be pleased with me, but, like I said, he needs parameters or he'll be puttering away on whatever he's doing all night."
She was about to get up when she heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs. "Huh. Here he comes."
When Jordan entered the room, he, once again, had one hand behind his back. He was still wearing the green tights, peasant blouse and apron.
"Another surprise?" Mary asked smiling.
Jordan was also smiling and looking very proud of himself. "Yes, but this time it's for Robbie."
"For me!?" Robbie sat up straighter.
Jordan pulled his arm around to reveal a plain, baby blue, gingham dress.
"Oh, my God!" Robbie jumped up and hugged Jordan. "That's so nice, Jordie! Why would you make me a dress."
"Look," Jordan smiled, unfolding a paper envelope from his apron pocket. The envelope was a commercial product with the word 'Simplicity' written across the top and, in an older style of artwork, a picture of young women in three various versions of essentially the same dress. One of those women bore a striking resemblance to Robbie. "See. She looks just like you, so I made the dress she's wearing for you."
"Oh, how sweet!" Franny said from the couch. "Robbie, go try it on."
Robbie kissed his cheek and took the dress and headed for the downstairs lav, but stopped. "Umm, Jordie... I think this is too small for me, honey."
"No..." Jordan muttered, crestfallen. "It has to be big enough. When we were in your room, I saw some of your dresses and they said that you wore a size four. This is a size five. If anything, it should be a little big. I figured I could take it in for you if I needed to."
"Size five?" Robbie looked confused. "There is no size five. Women's sizes are in even numbers, Jordie."
"But there is a size five in junior sizes," Mary said, looking at the envelope. "Jordie, I'm sorry, but you made Robbie a dress that is sized for girl. Not a woman."
"Oh..." Jordan was heartbroken. He'd really tried to do something nice.
"Oh, don't feel bad, Jordie," Robbie held the dress up to look at it. It was a baby blue dress with a high waist, a scoop neck and puffy sleeves. There was a gold zipper running up the back. It was remarkably well put together for a home made dress, let alone a dress that had been made by someone who'd never even touched a sewing machine a few hours earlier. "This is just lovely, Jordie, and I'm touched that you'd make it for me, but, I'm sorry, I haven't been able to fit into a juniors' size five since I was in seventh grade."
"What a shame." Mary patted her nephew's back. "You did a beautiful job, Jordie. We'll have to find someone who'll fit into it when all of this is over."
"Umm," Franny stood and looked at the dress, "Robbie, what grade were you in when you wore that blouse?"
"I don't know... seventh or eighth."
"And what grade were in when you had to buy those tights for gym?"
"Oh, that was definitely seventh. That was for Ms Graves' class. She was a strange lady... oh..." the lightbulb went on over her head. "I get it."
"Get what?" Mary asked.
"Well," Franny said as sweetly as she could, "I think that Jordie may have solved tomorrow's clothing issue."
"Oh... no..." Mary laughed. "That wouldn't be right, would it?"
"Why not?" Franny giggled. "Jordie, remember when I said how cute it is when a woman wears boy-style underwear?"
"Yeah," he said, a bit confused and very apprehensive.
"Well, that's a two way street, Jordie. A boy in girls clothes is cute, too. You saw yourself in that blouse, right? You look adorable. So... for tomorrow... let's see if that dress fits you."
"If the dress fits?" Jordan looked around. "Are you serious?"
Mary looked at the dress and considered the lack of options available to them. "Well, it's not a horrible idea, Jordie, but only if you are willing to wear it. We don't have any pants or anything like that for you to wear. We do have some of the girls' old clothes that we could dig out of storage tomorrow, so if you'll agree to it... it would really help out."
When he hesitated, Mary added, "But only if you're ok with it."
"Come on, Jordie," Robbie encouraged. "No one will see. It's just the four of us, here and it's just clothes, right?"
Jordan looked at the dress he'd spent six hours cutting and sewing for his cousin and took a deep breath. "I guess, with my hair like this, I kind of already look like a girl, so... you won't laugh, will you?"
"No, baby," Mary ran a finger down his soft cheek. "We won't laugh. It'll just be until we can get some money together to get you new pants, ok?"
He sighed. "Ok. I guess I'll try it, BUT I'd if anyone laughs, I'm not doing it."
"Ok, baby," Mary smiled. "Just take off your shirt and we can try it on right here."
He took off the flowered apron, then pulled the soft blouse over his head. Mary pulled the zipper down and helped to lower the dress over his head. He guided his arms into the sleeves and took a deep breath as the dress slid onto him.
"Turn around, baby," Mary said maternally. "I'll zip you up."
It was a very strange sensation for Jordan. The zipper pulled the waist line tightly to his body. It wasn't uncomfortable, but the waist was very high, just below his chest, and the zipper made him feel trapped in the girlish garment.
"It fits nicely," Mary said. "You did a very good job, Jordie. How does it feel?"
"Kind of weird," he said. "I don't really know what to do with my hands, the skirt is like, everywhere. Also... there's some itchy parts."
"Itchy parts?" Mary asked.
"I know what he means, mom," Robbie offered. "When great grandma or grandma made me dresses when I was a girl, the seams were always a little raised and they itched if I wore the dress without a slip."
"Oh, ok," Mary remembered having the same problem when she was young. "Well, that's easily solved. I bet we have a few slips in the walk in closet off the back hallway where we've stored all of your old dresses."
"A slip?" Jordan asked.
"Just think of it as an undershirt," Franny explained.
He nodded.
"Alright, then," Mary forced a smile for Jordan's sake, "I think we've found a temporary solution to the clothing problem. Are you sure you're ok with this, Jordie?"
"Sure, I guess," he shrugged. "Like Robbie said, they're just clothes, right?"
"Right, Jordie," Robbie smiled and gave him another kiss on the cheek. "Thank you again for thinking of me. I'm glad that such a pretty dress will get some use."
"Alright," Mary turned him around and pulled down the zipper, "let's get ready for bed, ladies. Jordie, put on your pajamas and find one of us. We'll get your hair ready. You can either wear in in a ponytail or a bun while you sleep, but I want to be sure that it's not a tangled mess again in the morning."
"Couldn't we just take care of my hair right now?" Jordan asked.
"I'd rather that you were in your pjs so that you don't need to pull your pajama top over your head after we put your hair up."
"Well, see, auntie," Jordan sputtered, "I threw away my pajamas about a week ago. They fell apart when I put them through the wash the last time. Since then... I've been kind of sleeping in the nude."
"You've been sleeping naked on my good sheets!?" Mary was a little miffed, but got control of herself. "Alright, Jordie, go upstairs and brush your teeth and I'll figure out something for you to wear to bed."
"Wake up, Jordie," Franny cooed as she entered her cousin's room and raised the blinds. "Mom says to get you up, help you get dressed, strip your bed and put the sheets you've been sleeping naked on into the washer, have some breakfast and take you out to the salon to give you another shampooing with the medicated shampoo, straighten your hair and put on some more Neosporin on your sores so that everything heals correctly. Your bun stayed in nicely, last night. That's a good thing."
Still groggy and confused by Franny's intrusion into his room, Jordan blinked his eyes to try to see more clearly against the bright morning light. At the mention of the bun Fanny had put in his hair last night, he put a hand up to the back of his head and felt the ball of hair back there. He'd asked her to put the bun on top of his head like other guys he'd seen, but Aunt Mary said to put it in back so the scalp on the top of his head could breathe. As he pulled his hand back from the bun, he noticed the ruffled cuffs on the sleeves of the long sleeved nightie they'd found for him to sleep in last night. It was white, with narrow, baby blue stripes and small yellow flowers that reminded Jordan of dandelions decorating the entire gown. The bodice was smocked and should have enhanced the shape of a small, developing bust, but just laid shapelessly against his flat chest.
"Aren't you getting up?" Franny asked, lifting the hanger holding the dress he made yesterday. "You did a great job on this, Jordie. I'm glad that you'll have something to wear today. After an hour or so, you'll forget that your even wearing it. It's just a piece of clothing."
Jordan shook his head, both at the ludicrous situation he found himself in and at the amount of talking Franny was doing. "I need to go pee before I get dressed," he said.
"Ok. You have a bathroom right here. Go ahead. I'll wait."
Jordie stood and the nightie that fell to halfway between his knees and ankles, freed itself from the wound position it had held around his body.
Franny smiled at him.
"What?" he asked.
"Nothing. It's just that, with your hair in a bun and that granny night gown... well, you're awfully cute, Jordie."
"Wonderful," he muttered as he headed towards the lavatory.
"Oh, Jordie," Franny stopped him. "Don't forget some clean panties." She pulled the next pair out of the pack that she'd given him the precious day. They were a soft blue, just a few shades lighter than the dress he'd be wearing. It was a coincidence, but a happy coincidence, none the less.
When he emerged from the lavatory wearing just the panties, Franny held up a silky looking dress of some sort.
"What's that?" he asked.
"That's your slip. It'll keep the seams from irritating you. It's very soft. Hold up your arms."
Jordan followed her instructions and she lowered the slip over his head. It was cool and soft against his body. In the front were two empty pouches.
"Is this a bra?" he asked.
"Well, it's meant to have a bra under it, but I don't think you need a bra. To tell you the truth, though, when I wore that slip, and when Robbie wore it after I did, we only wore training bras, so it wasn't very full then, either." She laughed at her memory of the days when she was Jordie's size. "Let's get the dress on you."
Again, he raised his hands and, once again, Franny lowered the garment onto him. Then she turned him and zipped up the back, giving him the feeling of being helpless and trapped, again. "Doesn't that feel better with the slip?"
Jordan nodded.
Franny adjusted the skirt at his hips and commented, "You did a remarkable job on this dress, Jordie. I'm very impressed. If you're looking for another project, I'd love for you to make me a dress."
"Really?" He asked, happy at the prospect of a project. "But I messed up the dress I was making for Robbie."
"You didn't mess it up, Jordie," Franny laughed, "you just didn't understand about women's sizing, which is normal. Most women don't understand women's sizes. You can take my measurements and I'll help you to figure it out. Robbie would love a new dress, too, so would mom, I'm sure. We could keep you busy for weeks if you like sewing."
"I do," he smiled as he moved to the mirror. "I like building anything and sewing is kind of the same." He examined the dress in the mirror. "I guess it does look good, huh?"
"It's lovely, Jordie. You should be proud of yourself. I'm very proud of you."
"Really!? Proud of me?"
"Very proud, Jordie. Now, do you want me to brush out your bun before breakfast?"
He looked at himself more closely, taking in the way his hair made his face look. "No, I think I'll keep it like this. I like it. It's very neat this way."
"Ok," his cousin chuckled, neatness had never been part of Jordie's look. His room and any workspace he used was always immaculate, but his personal appearance was always a little disheveled. Maybe this was a chance to help him with that. "You know, I could help you neaten up your look a lot, if you want."
"Really? How?"
She stood beside him and rubbed his back, feeling the zipper in the dress and the silky feeling of the dress sliding on the slip below "I'll give you some options when we get out into the salon. Let's go have breakfast, now."
To Be Continued...
Quarantine: 2 - Expanding Horizons
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
Other Keywords:
Permission:
explorations into sewing lead him to self discoveries.
Author's Note: Strange what happens when people are restricted and limited indoors! A little review is a small payment to help more of these stories come forth. Again, I would seriously like to know how I am doing. ~Clara.
This version of Quarantine: 2 - Expanding Horizons 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
The sheets were in the washing machine, the breakfast dishes were in the dishwasher and Franny was leading Jordan out to the salon on an overcast spring morning in rural Massachusetts.
"Seriously," she was chuckling as they walked into the salon and turned on the lights, "you don't know who Billie Eilish is!?"
"No," Jordan shrugged. "Should I know her?"
"Well, I don't know... don't you like music?"
"Sure. I like music just fine. I just don't always know who I'm listening to."
"Ok, that's fair, I guess. So, is there anyone that you like to listen to?"
He shrugged again. "I like The Beatles, I guess."
Now, Franny laughed out loud. "The Beatles? Well, of course you like The Beatles. Everyone likes The Beatles, Jordie, but they're old. Isn't there anyone new that you like to listen to?"
"I don't know. I guess I like Adele," he said, not even sure what songs she sang, but at least knowing the name.
"Ok, see, that's a great choice. What album?"
"I don't know, Franny. Like I said, I just like to listen to music."
"Ok," she indicated the chair at the shampooing station, "sit down and I'll hook my phone up to the speaker. We'll listen to some Adele while we take care of your hair. Undo your bun while I take care of the music. Oh, and Jordie..."
"Yeah?" he asked as he reached behind his head.
"Keep your knees together, honey. You need to be aware of that all the time, ok?"
"Oh," he realized how he was sitting, "yeah. Of course. Sorry."
She plugged her phone into the speaker and smiled at him. "Don't apologize, Jordie. You'll get used to it. It's just that dresses are new to you."
Piano music started playing through the salon, then Adele's sultry alto joined the piano to sing some of Bob Dylan's most beautiful lyrics.
'When the rain is blowing in your face
And the whole world is on your case
I could offer you a warm embrace
To make you feel my love.'
Frances started the water in the sink at the shampooing station and checked the temperature. "Lay back, Jordie. Let me take care of your hair. I'll be careful. I won't hurt you."
Until yesterday, no one, other than his mother, when he was very young, had ever washed his hair for him and it seemed like a huge luxury. A luxury he really liked. He closed his eyes and enjoyed it.
Franny smiled down at him, happy that he was enjoying it. She joined in the song, singing quietly with Adele,
'I know you haven't made your mind up yet
But I would never do you wrong.
I've known it from the moment that we met
No doubt in my mind where you belong.'
"You have a nice voice, Franny," Jordan said, his eyes still closed.
"Yeah? You think so?" She began rinsing his hair. "I was in chorus in high school. I had a few solos. There were always girls who sang better than me, though." She thought about high school and how much she enjoyed singing with her friends back then. Would there even be choruses in high schools after the pandemic was over? "Do you sing?"
"No," he chuckled at the absurdity of the question.
"Why not?" she asked.
"I don't know. I just don't."
"Well, we need to fix that," she said. "I'll teach you some songs. Now, sit up."
She wrapped his head in a turban and helped him stand and walk to the styling chair. Once seated, she used the towel to dry his hair a bit and then she inspected his scalp. "Wow, Jordie. Everything is healing really well. That's really good. Mom will be happy."
She ran a wide toothed comb through his hair and said, "You know, a lot of guys have their brows cleaned up, nowadays. I could do that for you. Get rid of the stray hairs over your nose, clean up the ones outside of the brow line, things like that. How does that sound?"
"I don't know," he said, looking at his lap. "Whatever you think is best, I guess."
"Oh, come on, Jordie. Don't lose momentum on me. This morning you were talking about neatening up your look. I want to help you do that. Now, look in the mirror and tell me if you want me to do your brows for you."
He glanced up at the mirror, but looked away immediately. "Whatever you want to do is fine, Franny."
She looked at him and she worried. "Jordie... look at your reflection for me. I want to show you what I'd like to do."
He raised his eyes and looked at the mirror, but his eyes darted away again. Then back. Then away. Over and over.
"Jordie... can you... I mean... is there a reason you don't want to look at yourself?"
He shrugged and she asked him again.
Finally, he sighed. "I... I don't like to look at my reflection, that's all."
She watched him struggling to keep glancing from his reflection to the side wall, to his reflection, to her face, to his reflection, to his feet...
"You looked at your reflection this morning," she prodded gently.
"No I didn't. I looked at the dress and how it looked on me and I looked at how neat my hair looked, but... I didn't look at... me. I never look at me. Like... all... of me."
She patted his damp head. "Why not, Jordie."
He shrugged. "Cause..." he took a deep breath, "cause, I'm ugly."
Her heart sank. "Don't say that, Jordie. You're not ugly at all. You're very good looking."
"No, I'm not," he said, emotionlessly. "I know that I'm weird looking, Franny. My mom always said that I was always going to look like 'an odd child.' I don't like to look at myself because... well... I look like a weird child."
Frances leaned against the bench area and looked at her cousin. "Jordie..." She thought through her words. "Jordie... you're a very good looking person, really you are. I'm telling you the truth. Please don't ever say that you're not."
He glanced at her, then glanced down. "You're only saying that because you c..."
When he sputtered and stalled, Frances pushed him a bit. "Because why, Jordie? Because I care about you?"
He shrugged, then nodded.
"Jordie, I do care about you, you know. In fact, I love you. So do mom and Robbie. You're my cousin, Jordie - my only cousin - and you're very important to me. Can you look at me?"
He looked at her for a moment, then away.
She sighed. "Jordie... this morning... did you like how you looked in the dress that you made?"
He shrugged.
"Did you?"
"I guess... I mean... I like the way the dress came out and... well... I kind of like that I made something that I could wear. It made me look different, and that's a good thing, right?"
"You mean it made you look neater?"
He nodded.
"And did you like your hair this morning?"
He paused for a moment, then nodded.
"Because it looked neater?"
He nodded again. "And because it made me look different, too. Not... ugly."
"Oh, Jordie..." she muttered heart broken.
By now, Adele was singing 'Rolling In The Deep.'
"Jordie... I need to go grab something that I forgot in the house. Just sit right there. I'll be right back. It might take a couple of minutes, but I'll be back. Just wait here, ok?"
He nodded and she left in a hurry.
She was gone for almost ten minutes and when she returned, Mary was with her and Mary's eyes were rimmed in red. She looked at her nephew and her eyes became watery.
"Are you ok, Auntie? You look like you're going to cry."
Mary forced a sad smile and she reached out and touched the boy's soft cheek. He was so small and so sweet and, now she realized, so broken.
"Jordie..." She tried to maintain that sad smile. "...baby... your mom... she never really said that you were ugly, did she?" Mary knew that her sister could be cold and tactless, but this was a bit beyond her expectations.
He shrugged. "Not just outright, like that, but... you know... like... when we were shopping and couldn't find a suit coat in the men's department that would fit me and she'd have to drag me over to the boys' department and even then nothing fit right... when things like that would happen, she'd say things like, 'Are you ever going to be a man?' or 'Maybe if you'd exercise now and again, you'd grow a little," things like that. I mean... I got the hint. I know I'm ugly."
"Oh, baby, no, no, no." Mary kissed his cheek. "Baby... you are one of the sweetest people I know, Jordie. There is nothing... absolutely NOTHING ugly about you in any way. You are perfect and beautiful, just the way you are."
He smile just a little and gave a chuckle at the absurdity of that, but then he thought about yesterday and what his aunt had done to his hair. "You're just saying that because of what you did yesterday."
Confused, Mary asked, "What do you mean, Jordie? What did I do yesterday?"
"You know... what you did to my hair. That's the first time in my life that I ever looked..."
Mary waited, but Jordan didn't continue. "Pretty? You looked pretty yesterday?"
He nodded.
"How did that make you feel?" she asked as gently as she could.
Slowly, his eyes raised and, just for a moment, they made contact with Mary's. "It made me feel... nice, I guess..."
Mary looked at Frances who nodded and indicated that her mother should continue down this path.
"Jordie... when you make something yourself... when you start with nothing and end up with something that all comes together and looks great... how does that make you feel?"
He shrugged. "Proud, I guess."
"And when you made me that valance... were you proud of that?"
He nodded.
"Are you're proud of the dress you made?"
He shrugged again. "I guess so. I mean... it's ok."
"It's not 'ok,' Jordie, it's lovely. Here, stand up and stand next to me."
He did as instructed and stood by his aunt facing the full length mirror on the door of the rest room.
"Look at yourself, Jordie," she told him. When she saw that he would only glance briefly, she placed a hand on his jaw and gently guided his gaze towards the mirror. "Tell me what you see."
"I see you and me," he said as he looked away again.
Mary gently guided his chin back to the mirror and held it there. "Now, tell me what you see."
"I see a guy in a dress with stringy, wet hair. He's pasty and pale and short and... well... not attractive. He's ugly."
Mary shook her head. "That's not what I see. I see my nephew. A guy I love a lot, Jordie. The smartest guy I ever met. He has a kind and generous heart and, when I look at him, I see a little of my sister, a little of her husband, a little of me, even - and now that I look closely, a lot of my mother. It's a beautiful face, Jordie. A face made up of the faces of people I love and it hurts me when you say that it's ugly or unattractive, so let's never say that again. Ok?"
"Ok," he nodded and then looked at his face more closely. "Do you really think I look like you and grandma?"
She kissed his cheek again. "I do, baby. You have a kind, gently face, just like my mother, your grandmother, had."
"And you?" he asked. "You think I look like you?"
She pressed her face next to his. "Yes, baby. You look just like me sometimes. Especially when I was younger."
Now, he was staring at himself.
Mary looked at him, amazed. So sweet and gentle. How could her sister have hurt him this way?
"Tell you, what," she said as she guided him towards the styling chair, "let's see what we can do to make you see how wonderful you look."
Once he was seated, she looked at him in the mirror. "What would you like me to do with your hair, Jordie? It's long enough that I can do pretty much anything you'd like. I could even cut it short and give you a regular man's haircut. What would you like?"
"Well," he pondered, "I don't want it short." He was very sure of that. "I need my hair. Dad's bald. I don't want to be bald."
"Ok." Mary looked at Frances and they both smiled.
"I want it long."
"Ok," Mary rubbed his shoulder. "How would you like it styled?"
He considered this for a long moment or two.
"Think of someone that you think is good looking," Frances offered. "Maybe mom could do something like that for you."
"I think you're pretty," He said to Franny, "and Robbie, too. Could I wear my hair like you guys?"
"Oh..." Mary was surprised by the answer, but at least he was thinking of beauty instead of ugliness. "S...sure, baby... I can do something like that, if you want."
"Yeah," he nodded. "Something like that, I guess. I like the way you made it look when it's long, and I liked wearing a bun to bed last night, too. So, something like theirs would be good."
Still shocked, Mary wanted to be sure. "Are you sure, Jordie? Those are girl's hairdos."
"Yeah, but... even if it's a girl's hair cut, I think I would look better that way."
"Well, ok," Mary laughed. "Let's give it a try, then... then, if you don't like it, we have plenty of time to change it. Franny, hand me a spray bottle so we can wet his hair again."
Franny did that, then asked, "Mom, Jordie looks nice in that dress, doesn't he?"
"You do, honey," Mary said to Jordan. "You did a good job on it. Is it comfortable?"
"I guess," he gave his stock answer.
"Well, I appreciate you helping us cope with our limited finances for now."
Frances pulled a stool close to the styling chair and continued. "He's going to sew me a dress, too. And Robbie. I bet he'd make you one, too."
Mary smiled as she began combing his hair. "That would be lovely, Jordie. So, you really enjoy sewing?"
"It's pretty cool." He smiled as his aunt began to inspect his scalp. "It's just like building something with wood, or metal. You follow the instructions and you end up with something that looks great and serves a purpose."
"That's excellent." Mary loved that he was sharing his enthusiasm so freely. "Your scalp looks better already, Jordie. That's great, too."
Frances said, "Robby is out in the storage rooms right now, going through our old stuff. She'll look through everything and see if there's anything out there you can wear, Jordie. You don't have to make yourself a new dress everyday."
"Ok," he said, "but I could, you know. It only takes a few hours, unless you want to make something really fancy."
"Ok," Frances chuckled, "but just in case you get too busy to make one EVERY day, you'll have extra clothes."
"Alright, Jordie," Mary interrupted, "I'm going to straighten your hair again, then I'm only going to do a little cutting and then I can style it like your cousins. Are you sure that's what you want?"
"Yes, auntie."
"Ok, honey."
Forty five minutes later, Jordan's hair was feathered prettily around his face and fell with some thick, vertical curls near his shoulder. Mary bushed out the curls leaving lots of body behind.
"There," she smiled. "What do you think?" She pulled the cape from him and had him stand, again.
Jordan stood, looked into the full length mirror, again, and the smile on his face faded. "Oh..."
"What's the matter, honey?" Mary asked.
"I don't know..." he said sadly. "...I still look... like... me. I wanted to look more like you and Franny."
Frances cleared her throat and Mary turned to look at her. Frances ran her finger across her own eyebrows and mouthed the word 'eyebrows'
Mary mouthed back, 'oh.' "Um, Jordie, would you like me to trim your eyebrows for you? That will neaten things up for you, too."
"Ok," Jordie nodded.
Mary sat him back down then went to work on his brows, first with a razor, then with a tweezer. It wasn't long before he had neat, not overly narrow arches over each eye.
She directed Jordan's attention back to the mirror. "How's that?"
"Better, auntie. That's does make me look more like you, but..." He looked at Frances closely. "Why don't my eyes look as big as Franny's? And my skin doesn't look the same?"
"Jordie," Frances smiled and touched his arm, "I'm wearing makeup, honey." Jordan examined her face carefully, then let his eyes wander down her body to the hem of her dress, inspecting everything about her.
He turned to his aunt. "Can I try some makeup?"
Mary looked from her nephew to her stepdaughter and back again. "Jordie... this is only temporary, right? Until we can get you some trousers. Your hair could look fine in a ponytail or a bun and your eyebrows will grow back pretty quickly, but... I mean... do you want to really try all of this... girly... stuff?"
"Why?" he asked very concerned. "Does that make me... weird?"
"No, baby." Mary smiled at him. "Lots of boys are curious about girls and girls' clothing. It's just... Are you sure this is what you want, honey?"
Jordan considered this, then turned and looked at the mirror on the lavatory door. He stood straight and inspected himself. He liked his new hair and eyebrows, then there was the dress. He looked at it again. The scooped neck led to his flat chest and the puffy sleeves led to his slender arms. He smoothed the skirt of the dress that ended about two inches past his finger tips.
"Franny... if I wear dresses... will you and Robbie like me?"
Frances shot her step mother a shocked look as she stood and hurried to his side. "Jordie... Robbie and I LOVE you right now! We loved you before, too! If you're wearing jeans and a tee shirt, we'll love you. If you're wearing a dress, we'll love you. If you're wearing a gorilla costume and climbing up The Empire State Building, we'll love you! You don't have to wear a dress so that we'll love you?"
"No," he said, taken a bit aback by his cousin's response, "I mean... if I were to wear a dress... would you STOP loving me, because... well... you guys are the only ones who... love... me." The word 'love' sounded uncomfortable when he said it.
"Oh, honey, that's not true." Mary kissed his cheek. "I love you, your mother and father love you, your friends..."
"I don't have any friends," he interrupted her. "No one even likes me, auntie, so there are no 'friends' who love me and as for mom and dad..."
"Don't even say it, Jordie, because it's not true. Your mom and dad love you very much. They just... they just have a hard time showing it, honey."
Finally, Jordie looked away from the mirror. For the past few minutes, while he appeared to be looking at 'himself,' he had, in fact, been inspecting the minutia of his new look, never taking in the full picture, but, all in all, he definitely preferred the reflection he was seeing now to the one he'd seen all of his life.
He looked at the floor, now. Sparse blonde hair on his legs and ugly sneakers on his feet. Both of those things would have to go, too. He wanted to be someone different. Someone new.
He took a deep breath, then looked at his aunt with eyes that were as sad as his eyes could ever be. "I don't think they really do, auntie. I don't think that mom and dad hate me, or anything, I just don't think they think about me very much other than seeing me as... disappointing, I guess."
Mary wrapped one arm around and his wrapped his head with her other, then pulled him into the tightest hug he'd ever received, which was also, possibly, the hardest hug she'd ever given. For a young man who hated the touch of others, a young man would pull his arm aside as quickly as possible if it was so much as brushed by another person, this was a frightening turn of events and he tensed for a moment, until he inhaled his aunt's aroma and he knew that he was safe and loved in this embrace.
Mary shook with sobs. How could her nephew have felt this way all of his life and she'd never noticed, never asked, never observed... She rocked him back and forth and whispered, "We love you, baby. We love you. You always have us, baby. We love you."
When, at last, she released her grip on the boy, her face was wet with tears and even his eyes were watery.
Frances was standing just to the side of him and she was crying, too.
"Alright, alright." Mary cleared her throat and tried to get a handle on her emotions. "Tell me what you want me to do, Jordie, and I'll... I'll make you beautiful."
Jordan nodded. "Well... I guess that makeup would be a good start. It'll make me prettier, right? Like Franny and Robby?"
"Ok," she nodded as she led him back to the styling chair. "Anything else?"
"Umm... do you think that, maybe, you could show me how to shave my legs and whatever else I need to shave?"
"I can do that for you, honey." She smiled, the turned to Frances, "Franny, grab the pink shaver in the black cabinet and make sure that the battery is charged for me, please."
Frances went to the cabinet and turned the device on. The motor sounded well powered. "Yep. It's good."
Mary looked at her nephew once more. "Anything else?"
He was tentative to say this one. "Umm... can you... I mean... do you know how... to... Umm... pierce someone's ears."
Mary smiled broadly. "Of course, my baby. I know how to do that."
Robbie was spreading several dresses on Jordan's bed when she heard voices downstairs. She'd spent more than an hour going through boxes of old clothing, looking for the least feminine dresses she could find, realizing, of course, that an unfeminine dress was an oxymoron.
She'd found six. All were fairly plain and all were fairly short, but since they were looking for clothes that fit Jordan and those clothes would have to be clothes that she and her sister had worn in sixth, seventh and eight grade, everything in the appropriate size was designed to be youthful looking - meaning - short. The fit and flair styles that both she and Frances wore at that age tended to feature skater-dress-style skirts, which were pretty girly, but it was the best she could do. Jordie could wear them if he didn't find them too offensive, or they could be returned to their boxes without any fuss.
The voices came up the stairs and Robbie peeked out into the hallway to see her sister, followed by her stepmother and she could see that another person, Jordan, of course, was right behind them.
"I found some dresses that I think Jordie will like," she said as the group approached. "I only pulled out the plain ones - nothing too girly."
"That's probably not going to be a big deal," Franny smirked as she passed the bedroom door and stopped. Then, Mary stepped out of the way revealing someone else and it took a good few seconds for Robbie to realize that the 'someone else' was her cousin Jordan.
"Oh, my God, Jordie..." She laughed a little at the way he looked, but not because she found it amusing, but because she found it amazing.
Jordan stopped and looked at her. "Why are you laughing? Do I look funny? Or weird?"
"Jordie," she let out another shocked titter, "you look... amazing! You're hair and makeup... did you shave your legs!?"
"And arms and armpits," Mary confirmed. "He got the works."
"Even pierced ears," Frances smiled and pulled Jordan's hair back revealing two baby blue studs in each of his earlobes. Then she smiled at her sister and announced, "Jordie and I are going to the sewing room. He's going to measure me for a dress. We watched a video on YouTube and now he knows how to measure correctly. There's a dress dummy in there, too, so we'll set that up to my measurements. Come on down with us and help me pick out a pattern." And with that, she and Jordan continued down the hall, leaving Mary standing next to her gobsmacked step daughter.
"He looks nice, doesn't he?" Mary said to break the stunned silence.
"He looks amazing, mom, but... why? How?"
Mary folded her arms under her breasts, shrugged and raised her eyebrows. "I don't know, Robbie. I think that this may have been a long term curiosity for Jordie."
"I don't think so, mom. Yesterday, he was pretty upset about the embroidery on that peasant blouse. He didn't seem too into girl's clothes at that point."
"Well, maybe that was just an act so we wouldn't think any less of him. Either that, or his fascination at making a dress made him very curious. Either way, every change was his choice."
Robbie shook her head. "Mom, he's adorable. He looks like..."
"A little girl, I know. Nothing I did could make him look older. That boyish body and no breasts... eleven or twelve... thirteen at the oldest, I'd say, but you're right, he is adorable. We asked him who he thought was attractive so we could style his hair that way and he said he thought you and Franny were pretty, so he asked me to make him look like you guys."
"Well, you certainly did that." She shook her head. "It's like I have a little sister."
Mary nodded. "Treat him that way, Robbie. Teach him. We found out things about that boy today... well, just take my word for it - that boy has been through a lot more trauma than I could have imagined. Be good to him. Pamper him. He needs some tenderness and beauty in his life and you two are the most qualified to give him that."
A little confused, but willing to take her stepmother's word for it, Robbie agreed to give Jordan even more love and attention than usual.
"Be careful not to push too hard," Mary warned. "We don't want him to go back into his shell."
"Oh," Robbie smiled, "I'm great with kids, especially girls that age. I was a mentor at school, remember. He's going to love being my little pal."
Five hours. That's all it took for Jordan to measure, Frances, set the dress dummy to her dimensions, cut the cloth and sew the dress. It fit the dress dummy beautifully and Frances was anxious to try it on, but Jordan was looking through a draw full of zippers for just the right one.
The girls had stayed in the sewing room the whole time, marveling at his deftness as he handled the material, the scissors, the marking chalk and the sewing machine, all the while wearing his light blue dress and his grandmother's apron. It was as if he'd been sewing his entire life, instead of thirty-some-odd hours.
Frances had chosen a pretty, but a bit dated, floral pattern on a light cotton material that she thought was pretty. Robbie agreed with her, but when asked for an opinion, Jordan had replied that it was fine as long as she liked it. For a final opinion, Mary was asked up to see the fabric and she agreed that it was lovely, but she requested that they call her when the dress was ready to be tried on so she could see it.
Jordan ran the zipper seam up and down in the sewing machine, then slipped the garment back over the top of the dress dummy and inspected it with his ever critical eye before pronouncing it done.
Frances clapped her hands in excitement and appreciation and asked, "Can I try it on, now?"
"Sure," Jordan replied.
"Robbie, text mom and tell her the dress is ready and can you unzip me?"
Robbie unzipped the rear zipper on her sisters dress, then text her mother downstairs that she should come up. Due to the size of the house and the fact that, under normal circumstances, Mary was in the barn very frequently, texting was the normal way to communicate from one part of the enormous house to another.
Frances lowered her dress and stepped out of it without a second thought, causing Robbie to say, "Franny!" And indicate the presence of Jordan.
"What? You don't mind, do you, Jordie? I'm wearing a bra and panties, and besides, you've already touched me everywhere when you took my measurements."
Jordan shrugged noncommittally, a bit baffled by the concern, but when Frances had stepped out of the dress, both girls noticed that the boy's brow was furrowed and he was staring at his cousin's breasts.
"Umm," Robbie touched his shoulder, "Jordie that's not very polite."
Without looking away from Frances' breasts, he replied, "What's not polite?"
"Staring at Franny's breasts, Jordie. A gentleman would look away."
Jordan blinked and looked at Robbie.
"Is this the first time you've ever seen a woman's breasts?" Frances asked.
He shot Frances a look. "Of course not. I've been swimming and been to the beach. Swimsuits show more breast than your bra. I wasn't looking at your breasts. I was looking at the bra."
"Oh," the girls let out relieved giggles.
"Do you want one?" Robbie asked. "I don't know if we have one that would fit you, but I could look."
"Why would I need a bra?" He seemed confused at that question.
The girls exchanged confused glances. "Then why were you staring at mine?" Frances asked.
"I was looking at how it was made. I wonder if the thread is actually elastic. It all seems to mold itself to you so well... That's all... I was wondering how it was made. I was just curious. I'll look it up later."
Just then, Mary appeared at the doorway, an iPad resting in her folded arms, and took in the sight of her oldest stepdaughter in her skivvies. "Well, aren't we all getting relaxed with each other?" She teased.
"Oh, yeah," Frances smiled. "I'm just about to try on the dress. Look at it. Isn't it pretty?"
Mary entered and looked at the dress displayed on the dummy. "It's lovely, yes. Let's see if it fits."
She unzipped the dress and held it low so that Frances could step into it. When she'd gotten it onto the girl's shoulders, Mary gently drew the zipper up and, just as it had on the dress dummy, it hung beautifully on Frances' youthfully fit form.
"Oh, it's beautiful, Jordie," Robbie said as she joined Mary in examining the dress.
"Thanks." Jordan smiled, happy to get the compliment.
"How does it feel?" Robbie asked Frances.
"Nice!" She giggled. "It's like it was made for me. Do you like it, mom?"
"I do," Mary smiled and touched the loose fitting, capped sleeve, "but..."
She let it hang there.
"But what?" Jordan asked, moving close to look for a problem.
"Oh... nothing..."she said, dismissively. "It's just that..." again she let it hang there.
"What!?" Jordan was now moving around, looking for any problem. "What's wrong with it?"
Mary winked at her daughters, knowing that Jordan had taken the bait. "Oh, nothing, Jordie, it's just that... well... wouldn't this dress look beautiful with a little bit of a lace collar? Nothing too elaborate, just something soft and feminine, like this." She touched the screen of her iPad and showed a photo of woman in a flowered dress, fairly similar to the one that Jordan had just constructed, but with a delicate, lace collar. "Look," Mary pointed to a narrow spool of material on the shelf that had as eight inch band of lace wrapped on it, "that's almost the same lace as the lace on this dress. Could you put a collar like that on this dress?"
Jordan looked from the iPad to Frances to the spool of lace and back again and tried to process what had been suggested. "But... this dress doesn't have a collar and, besides, that lace is a lot wider than the lace on the dress in the picture..."
"I know," Mary said patiently. "That's my point, Jordie. I think that a pretty, lace collar would dress this up beautifully. We have lace that can be cut down and we have the dress and you know how to sew. Can you add some lace to this dress?"
"Yes, please," Frances encouraged. "Mom's right. The lace would make this dress just perfect, Jordie."
He looked at the picture again. "But... it's not in the pattern. I don't know how..."
"Oh, I think you can figure it out, Jordie. It's just a little lace on top of the dress material. Here, take my iPad and think about it. I bet that you'll figure it out."
Jordan stared at the iPad for a solid minute and no one spoke. Robbie was about to say some words of encouragement, but Mary held up her hand and stopped her.
Suddenly, Jordan reached for a plastic ruler, then he took the ruler and iPad to the other side of the cutting table and he sat on stool. He used two fingers to enlarge the dress as much as he could, then he used the ruler to make some measurements, which he wrote down on a piece of paper, mumbling the whole time.
Then, he stood abruptly and pulled his tape measure from his apron pocket and took some measurements on Frances. He turned and grabbed the square piece of waxy marking chalk and made a few marks on the dress, near the neck opening. Still, he mumbled and mumbled. What he was saying, the women weren't sure, but whatever it was, it involved numbers.
He returned to the cutting table and wrote a few more numbers down, then grabbed the iPad, opened Safari, and typed something in. Moments later, a Youtube video was telling him what kind of stitch he should use on decorative lace.
When the video was done, Jordan turned, grabbed the spool of lace and cut a two foot length off. He began to trim it and create the shape he wanted from the material in his hand, then mumbled some more and looked up at the women. "Ok. I can do it. I just need the dress."
"Oh... ok," Frances said as she allowed her stepmother to pull down the zipper. She stepped out of the dress and handed it to Jordan.
He laid the dress on the cutting table, turned the collar inside out and began pinning the lace into place, drawing pins from the puffy, silk pin cushion attached to the bracelet on his left wrist. He worked quickly. And methodically, making adjustments when needed and mumbling quiet little curses when something vexed him for a moment, but always figuring out a solution to each problem.
"Ok," he nodded as he moved the dress to his machine, "I'm going to need an iron after I sew the lace on. Could someone get me an iron and some spray starch?"
Robbie hustled off to do that as the sound of the sewing machine filled the room, again. Mary stood next to Frances, still in her bra and panties, and watched Jordan, who worked at a frenetic pace.
By the time Robbie had returned, Jordan was pulling the dress free of the machine. He cut some stray threads, then hurried to Robbie, thanked her as he took the iron from her and plugged it in, checking the settings, then returned to the dress. He pulled out the pins that had kept the lace in place on the underside of the neck opening, and he pinned the front of the lace so that it stayed in place the way he wanted it. When he was satisfied with the look, he returned to the iron and went to work creating a crisp, delicate crease in the lace, so that it would lay flat on the dress. He ironed, sprayed starch, ironed, sprayed starch, over and over until he was happy with his work. He smiled and held the dress out to his scantily clad cousin.
Within seconds, Mary had drawn the zipper up Frances' back and everyone had moved to the full length mirror to look at the additional ornamentation. Of course, it was perfect. It was sewn on with precision, it was exactly the right size and it was positioned perfectly symmetrically around the neck opening.
"I love it," Frances squeaked as she turned and pulled Jordan into a tight hug. "How on earth did you figure this out?"
He shrugged, a bit embarrassed to be enjoying the hug.
"Come on, now, Jordie," Mary said in a maternal tone, "tell them how you figured it out."
"Well," he looked at the floor as he explained, "I looked at the picture and I measured the distance between that girl's neck and shoulders. Then I figured out the proportional size of the lace collar in the picture. The lace took up eighteen percent of the distance between her neck and shoulder. Then I measured the same distance from Franny's neck to her shoulder, figured out what eighteen percent of that was, added enough to fold over the back so I could sew it, then I put it all together. Easy."
"Easy!?" Robbie laughed. "I took trig in high school and I couldn't do that."
"You don't need trig," Jordan corrected. "It's just basic math." He said it very matter-of-factly, as of Robbie's suggestion of using trigonometry was absurd.
"Well, whatever," Mary gave him a hug and a soft kiss on his smooth cheek, "whatever you did, baby, you did a great job."
"Thanks, auntie," he smiled.
"Look," Robbie held up an envelope with a dress pattern contained within and drawings of the versions of that dress that could be created on the front, "Jordie's making me this dress tomorrow."
"That's lovely," Mary smiled. "You'll look adorable in that. Right now, though, let's get this room swept up and get ready for dinner. I really haven't made anything, today, so we'll go with franks and beans and brown bread for dinner, ok?"
The girls loved the idea of this casual meal.
"Can I just do one thing before I come down?" Jordan asked.
Mary checked the time. It was four-fifteen. "Alright, Jordie, but we're eating at five thirty on the dot, ok? So, set your phone for a four-twenty-five alarm and be there on time, ok?"
"Yes, auntie," he nodded. "I should be able to do what I want in that amount of time."
"And Jordie," she said a bit sternly.
"Yes, auntie?"
"The dress is beautiful, honey and you did a great job adding the lace. I'm very proud of you."
Jordan smiled broadly, the white of his teeth accentuated by the pink coloring on his lips. "Thank you, auntie."
As the girls left the room, they each kissed him and also told him what a great job he'd done.
Praise. He'd never gotten a lot of that, before.
He was in heaven.
Mary handed Robbie some plates as Frances fished some silverware out of a drawer.
"So," Frances said, slyly, "what exactly was all that about up in the sewing room?"
Mary smiled. "I just thought that the lace collar would look nice. Don't you like it?"
Frances touched the lace. "I love it, but we all know that you had ulterior motives."
"Ulterior motives," Mary laughed. "You make me sound like a criminal."
"You are acting pretty suspiciously, today," Robbie jokes as she set the plates on the place mats.
"So?" France crosses her arms and waited for an explanation.
Mary touched the lace on Franny's dress. "I knew he could do it... that he could think creatively... without the pattern to guide him. That's what I want him to do - think differently. I want him to figure things out without a pattern or blueprint."
"Ok, yeah," Frances nodded, "I can see that, but he didn't have to be all that creative. Like he said, It was just basic math."
"Uh huh, and is that how you would have done it?"
"Well... no... but I probably would have figured something out eventually. Maybe through trial and error."
"Yes, but I didn't see any errors, did you?"
"No..."
"Right. Because Jordie doesn't have a 'trial and error' personality. Yes, he made a mistake on the size of the first dress, but he didn't make a mistake on the garment. It was perfect. Regardless, Robbie, tomorrow, when he starts your dress, ask him to make a change that's not in the pattern."
"Like adding lace?"
"Well, yes, but he's already figured that out. If you want lace, that's fine, but ask for something else, too. Maybe a lower cut cleavage area, or buttons instead of a zipper, or fancier cuffs - something that makes him think outside the box."
"What's your goal in this behavioral experiment?" Frances leaned back against the counter, genuinely curious.
"First - it is not a behavioral experiment. It's parenting. I wish that my sister had done more of that. And, second, as for a goal... Jordie's remarkable, but... limited. I'm hoping that, if he realizes that he can make creative decisions on his own, he may be able to use that knowledge in other aspects of his life. Make him more flexible and self reliant. Is that so bad?"
"No," Frances finally agreed with a loving smile.
"And," Mary smiled, "by next week, I want to just be able to show him a picture of a dress in a magazine and have him make it for me."
"Or mabe he could design a dress for each of us." Robbie giggled.
"We'll probably have to give him two weeks for that." Mary joked as she reached into the refrigerator to get the hot dogs for dinner."
Jordan was on time for dinner, his apron had been left in the sewing room and he'd taken a few moments to remove as much loose thread as possible.
"Did you finish your other project?" Robbie asked.
"Yes," Jordan smiled. "I'm getting pretty fast at this. It's fun."
"Maybe you could make yourself a pair of trousers," Frances said, offering him a way back to boyhood, but Jordan shrugged.
"I don't know. There are no patterns for pants up there and, besides, I like making dresses. They're much... prettier, I guess. I like making them because they're not just utilitarian, they're kind of... little pieces of art, I guess."
"They are." Mary smiled at him. "You have a real knack for dresses, Jordie."
He smiled as he used his fork to cut a piece of frankfurter and combined it with a small helping of beans.
"What was your other project, Jordie?" Robbie asked. "Another dress for tomorrow?"
"No, I'll have to wear one of the dresses you picked out for me tomorrow. I made new pajamas for tonight. That nightgown I wore last night was kind of hot."
"Very nice." Mary smiled. "Tell you what, Jordie. After dinner, why don't you take a shower - wear a shower cap if you don't want to wash your hair wet, again - then you can put on your new pjs and we'll all meet in the upstairs den and we'll play a board game. How does that sound?"
Jordan stopped and thought for a moment. "What game?"
Mary was surprised that he wanted a list of games. "I don't know... maybe Scrabble, or Sorry. Maybe a card game like Uno or Rummy... whatever you'd like."
He thought for another moment. "Either Scrabble or Rummy."
"Ok." Mary smiled, the decisiveness of his answer amusing her a bit. "Girls, what would you like to play?"
"I like Scrabble best," Robbie shrugged.
"Scrabble is fine with me," Franny said, also finding Jordan's businesslike attitude towards a game awfully cute.
With that agreed upon, they returned to their meals.
"Auntie," Jordan asked, a few minutes later, still serious.
"Yes, baby?"
"When you say 'Girls'... am I included in that now?"
"Umm..." Mary looked at her stepdaughters, but the question confounded them, too. No one was sure how Jordan wanted this question to be answered. "I don't know, Jordie? Why?"
"Well... because I'm wearing dresses. Do you think of me as one of the girls?"
"Oh, I see..." Mary took a breath. "Let me ask you, Jordie... do you want me to think of you as one of the girls when you're wearing a dress?"
He looked at the table for a few moments and considered it, then he looked at his aunt and said, "Yes. I think that I do."
"Well. Ok, then. You're one of the girls, now."
He smiled. "Good," he said. Then, quieter, he said, "Good," again.
The old card table was set up in the upstairs den and a bowl of freshly popped popcorn was on the sideboard along with a pitcher a lemonade and some sugar cookies. The Scrabble board was in the center of the old card table and the comfortable chairs from the old kitchen set were in place and ready for the game.
Mary wore her old pajamas, baggie flannel things that were far more comfortable than fashionable, while both Frances and Robbie wore silky, knee length nighties with similarly silky wrap-around robes.
Frances turned some music on to play through the Bluetooth speaker.
"Adele?" Robbie asked, surprised. "I didn't think you were all that into Adele."
Frances shrugged. "I like her just fine, but Jordie seems to like her a lot, so I thought he'd enjoy this. It's a YouTube Music playlist, so it'll play other people, too."
"Cool," Robbie nodded.
"Jordie?" Mary called down the hall. "Jordie, honey, we're ready to start. How are you doing in there?"
There was no answer.
"Hmm," Mary said to the girls, "he's been out of the shower for at least ten minutes. I'm going to go check on him."
"She walked down the hall and knocked on the door to Jordan's room. "Jordie? Honey? Is everything ok?"
Still no answer.
She turned the nob and opened the door slowly. "Jordie?" But the room was empty. That was odd. The door was closed as if he was changing, but... no Jordie. She checked the floor on the other side of the bed to be sure he hadn't fallen or anything, but... no Jordie.
Maybe he was in the sewing room.
As she was headed to the door to she heard something moving in the closet.
"Jordie?" She approached the double doors of the closet and listened. Someone was definitely in there. "Jordie? Can I open the door?"
"No," was the quiet reply.
She waited a moment. "Jordie, honey. What's wrong?"
"I went too far, auntie."
Mary felt a fearful warmth rush over her body. What had he done!? "Jordie? Jordie!? What did you do? You didn't hurt yourself in anyway, did you? Jordie!? Baby? I'm opening the door."
She didn't know what to expect. She'd heard of some boys who were so disgusted by their own bodies that they'd castrated themselves. Things were moving awfully quickly. He couldn't have gone that far this quickly, could he!?
She took a breath and pulled the doors open. The smallish, walk-in space didn't offer a lot of places to hide, but Jordan was trying to stay out of sight. He'd pulled a blanket from a shelf and had thrown it over his head.
"Jordie?" She reached for the blanket and started to raise it, but he held on to it.
"I went too far, auntie."
Oh, God. What had he done? "What do you mean, honey?"
"My pajamas, auntie. I went too far. They're too g... you'll laugh at me. So will Franny and Robbie."
Oh, thank God. "Jordie, I promise, we won't laugh. Let me see." She lifted the blanket and he released his grip on it. She pulled it over his head and he stood there, eyes downcast, shame written on his face.
It took a moment for Mary to realize what the problem was. His face was clean of makeup and his hair was dry, still showing the fullness Mary had created with the curling iron hours earlier. Then, she noticed the 'pajamas.' They were not pajamas at all, though, they were not even 'they.' What he wore was a nightgown. A very simple, feminine, pretty nightgown.
The bodice was a simple rectangle. The boarder of the rectangle was a flowered pattern, so were the one-and-a-half inch straps that ran over his naked shoulders and created a flowered boarder across the top of the back, too. The center of the bodice's rectangle was cut from another fabric. It was a rather large bouquet of flowers that sat on a field of white - very simple, very pretty, very feminine.
From beneath the boarder of the rectangle, the nightgown hung loose and flowing, made of a very sheer, very soft, white cotton. It billowed around his small body and ended a few inches above his knees.
The nightgown was a classic style for little girls on the verge of young-womanhood. The effect of the billowing fabric blossoming out below the short bodice gave girls the impression of developing breasts. He looked smaller than ever. He looked younger than ever. He looked more like a girl and less like a man, or even a woman, than ever before.
He was adorable.
"I look foolish," he mumbled. "You're all going to laugh at me."
"Oh, Jordie, no, no... you look... amazing, baby. You look just perfect. A perfect, pretty little thing, Jordie. No one will laugh at you, baby. Come on out of the closet."
"You promise you won't make fun of me?"
"Jordie, just come out. I think you look great." She held out her hand and waited a moment until the boy took it. Then she led him the few steps out into the bedroom.
Once into the light of the room, Mary looked more closely at the nightie. It was truly precious. The kind of nightie that would melt the heart of any doting mother. The kind of nightie that a mother would shop for for days before sending her eleven or twelve year old daughter to a socially important slumber party.
"Oh, Jordie, I love it!" Mary gushed, a tear of pride, or perhaps relief, in her eye. "It's just... it's so pretty, baby, and you look so beautiful in it."
"Really?" Jordan seemed amazed by his aunt's response.
"Really, baby." She touched his cheek and was about to continue to praise him, when Robbie's voice interrupted them from the doorway.
"Jordie! You look so cute!" She gushed. "You made that!? It's so precious! I love it. Franny! Come see Jordie's nightie!"
Within seconds, Frances was at the door. "Oh, my God, Jordie! You're so adorable!" She burst into the room and wrapped her arms around her cousin and squeezed him. "Honest to God, Jordie, you're like a living paper-doll. Every time I see you, you're wearing another outfit and each one is more adorable than the one before it. Come on. Let's go play Scrabble."
By nine thirty, they'd finished two rounds of Scrabble. Robbie won the first round and Mary won the second. Frances had come in a close second in the first round and Jordan a close second in the second round. Everyone was smiling.
Throughout the game, the women had noticed that Jordan's behavior had changed. He was beginning to conform to the way the clothing and his hair made him feel. First, it was the way he'd flick his hair from his soft, creamy shoulders. Then, it was the way that one leg was folded up underneath him with his nightie billowing around him.
Then it was the giggles and the smiles, so unlike Jordan. He laughed at their jokes and smiled coyly when he scored a triple word score. Oh, sure, he was still intense when he was studying his tiles, a little awkward when he'd make brief eye contact and there was still the furrowed brow when he was vexed, but there was a new relaxation to him. A softening of his defensive shell. An occasional playfulness that had never been there before.
They all saw it and it made them all smile.
This wasn't just the clothes. Jordan was much too complex a person to be so quickly and totally changed by just wearing a girl's clothes.
This was a young person finding himself, or perhaps herself.
The confidence that was building as his creativity grew and his achievements were appreciated, complimented and encouraged. He'd never felt this kind of acceptance before. This kind of support. This kind of... family.
"Come on, Jordie," Robbie chirped as she plopped herself into an easy chair and patted the large, oversized ottoman in front of it. "Sit here and let me braid your hair before you go to bed. You'll love it. I promise."
He sat and allowed himself to be leaned back a bit so that Robbie could reach his hair. She ran a brush through his hair. It felt luxurious and relaxing, but that was nothing compared to the feeling of having her fingers manipulate his hair into firm plaits that hugged tightly to his scalp.
"This is called a 'Swedish Braid Crown,'" she explained, "and it's very comfortable to sleep in. You'll like it. When I was your age... I mean... when I was little... I mean... when I was your size, like in middle school or so, we used to set up a little triangle made up of me, Franny and mom and we'd braid each other's hair before we went to bed, remember mom."
"I do," she smiled. "Those are some of my favorite memories, Robbie."
"Mine too," she smiled back. "We'll have to teach our little cousin here how to braid and we can do it again."
When she was done, Jordan's hair was all braided and wrapped in a neat pattern that formed a delicate crown around his head. It was elaborate with a homespun quality to it that was very comforting to him, for some reason.
By this point, Mary and Franny had put away the game, folded up the old card table and they had settled onto the coach. Franny had turned on the TV and was searching for something to watch. "Oh, look!" She said, excited, "'Enchanted' is on. I love this movie! I remember the first 'girls weekend' we had with you, mom. Daddy dropped us here after school on that Friday. We were both kind of scared, but you had everything planned out. Grandma was still alive and you and grandma had set up this room to look like a girl's fantasy - pink and white, gauzy material was draped all over and we had pizza and talked about everything. Then, at like nine o'clock when we thought you were going to send us to bed, you turned on this movie and we all sat right here and watched it together."
Mary smiled. "I remember that, too. I remember every minute since you two entered my life, girls. Some of the best times of my life, and, of course, some of the worst. I could never have gotten through my mom's death, or your dad's, if it weren't for you two."
Frances reached for her stepmother's hand and squeezed it.
"Have you ever seen this movie, Jordie?" Robbie asked.
"No," he said, watching the animated section that began the film. "What's it about?"
"Well, you'll just have to watch it to see," Mary said playfully.
"You'll like it, though," Robbie bubbled. "That's Princess Gisele. She sews, just like you!" Robbie scooted to the side of the overstuffed chair and laid her head on the arm. "Here, pull the ottoman to the side and you can lay down on it and rest your head on my tush."
At first, this seemed awkward, but once he had the large ottoman situated and he'd settled in behind his cousin, laying his head on her upper thigh just seemed natural. Robbie reached down and began running her hand along his braids and she smiled at her stepmother and sister. "This is nice. And it's our first 'girls night' with Jordie."
To Be Continued...
Quarantine: 3 - New Challenges
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
Other Keywords:
Permission:
new opportunities and faces new challenges.
Author's Note: Thank you for all of your comments. Please continue to comment. It really does help me. I apologize for the abundance of typos in the previous chapter. I accidentally posted an unedited version. Frequently, my iPad thinks it's smarter than I am and I have to go back and fix quite a bit.
I was more careful this time... I hope. ~Clara.
This version of Quarantine: 3 - New Challenges 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
A week, nine dresses, two nighties and a new set of living room curtains later and Jordie was sitting at the cutting table, staring at a piece of paper that was covered in rough sketches. With a pencil in hand, he was struggling to picture how he'd like his first dress designed from scratch to look. Mary stood beside him, encouraging.
"I can't get this quite right," Jordan mumbled, "I can't figure out how to get the skirt the way I want it. Maybe if I look at the premade patterns I could find something that I could copy."
"No, no, no." Mary rubbed his back, softly, through the soft material of the lilac, cotton dress he wore. "I want this to be an original 'Jordie' dress. That means no cheating. You figure it out." She leaned down and kissed the top of his head.
The design, written on graph paper, looked more like an industrial design than a dress, but Jordan was figuring out the correct amount of material, proper amount of sway to the skirt, the way the dress would hang from the wearer's bosom and hips... everything. He just didn't know how else to express his ideas on paper other than as strict, rigid drawings on the checkerboard paper.
"I don't know if it'll look like I want it to look without using a pre-made pattern, though. What if it doesn't come out right?"
"Then you'll learn what you did wrong. That's ok, isn't it?"
He huffed and puffed about it a bit then mumbled, "Yeah. I guess."
"Good." Mary smiled she kissed his head once more.
Over the past week, Mary had gotten permission from the local board of health to take a few customers into the salon everyday. Only 'essential workers' were allowed to come in to have their hair, makeup, nails, whatever, done and a thorough cleaning had to take place between each customer. She wished that she could accommodate all of these people at no cost, but she just couldn't afford that. She did discount their beauty treatments substantially, though, and many were so appreciative that they tipped very well. It was nice to have some money coming into the house, again - even just a little.
"Listen, baby, I need to go out to the salon. I have two ladies coming in, today - one at ten and one at noon. Robbie's going to come up to keep you company..."
"...And make sure I don't cheat and use a pattern from the files." Jordan shook his head as he finished her thought. "Why is it so important that I do this all myself?"
"It just is, Jordie. Once you've conquered this, you'll be surprised by how proud it makes you. This is good for you, honey. Trust me."
He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair to push it out of his face. The constant attention to his hair had made the once ratty looking mess quite lovely and shiny. There were natural highlights in his once drab, brown hair that were not noticeable before. It had become quite lovely.
"I'll have Robbie bring you something to keep your hair back for you, ok?"
He nodded. "Good. I can't even think through all this hair, today."
"I can cut it all off for you, if you want, honey." Mary knew that this would rile him up a bit.
"No! I like my hair! I like it even more now than before. I was just... being frustrated, I guess."
She smiled and left him.
She found Robbie in the upstairs den, playing a video game. "Listen, honey, I have a customer coming, so I need to go out to the salon. Can you sit with Jordie while I'm gone?"
"Sure, mom," she said, happy to have something to do.
"Remember, don't let him use a pattern. Make him think everything through on his own."
"Yes, ma'am!" She giggled as she saluted her mother.
"Good. Where's your sister?"
"You just told me that she's in the sewing room," Robbie teased.
"Very funny. Where's Franny?"
"In her room, I think."
Mary looked into the next doorway and found her oldest stepdaughter seated at her desk, ear buds in use, so she entered and touched her shoulder, making Frances jump, just a little, in surprise.
"Any luck?" Mary asked.
After catching her breath, Frances shook her head. "No, mom, sorry. I've been trying to reach them through email, text message... I even sent an email to Doctors Without Boarders and asked if they could get a message to them. I haven't heard anything back, though."
Mary was frustrated. Her sister and her brother-in-law had not communicated with them for weeks, now. She knew that this didn't mean that anything was necessarily wrong - they were, after all, in China, a country notorious for stiffing communication, and there was a world wide pandemic to deal with - but it was frustrating, nonetheless.
She'd thought long and hard about how to deal with telling Jordie's parents about his recent change of wardrobe and had finally decided that it would be best to let them know about it sooner, rather than later. Unfortunately, that turned out to be much harder than she expected. They remained incommunicado.
"Is there a phone number for Doctors Without Boarders?" Mary asked, willing to do whatever it took to reach her sister.
"Yes, but their head quarters is in Geneva, Switzerland. I can try to reach them, if you want."
Mary scrunched up her face and considered that. "No. I'll call them later. I have a customer coming in a few minutes."
"What are you up to?" Frances asked Robbie.
"I'm on Jordie Duty."
The pun of 'Jordie Duty' sounding like 'Jury Duty' made all three of them chuckle.
"How's the dress coming?" Frances asked Mary.
"Slowly, but surely. He'll get it, but he'll take shortcuts if we let him."
"Hey, you know what?" Robbie was suddenly a bit excited. "We're all wearing dresses that Jordie made."
"Yes, we are," Mary smiled, looking from one to the other.
"I love the dresses he's made for me," Frances said. "I don't think I've ever had clothing that fit as comfortably as the dresses he makes."
"That is true," Mary said as she moved towards the stairs. "I'm afraid we may be taking advantage of him, though. He's in that room six to eight hours a day."
"Yeah, but he loves it!" Robbie shrugged.
"Mary nodded. "I have to run. Robbie - like you said, you're on 'Jordie Duty' until I get back. Oh, and Robbie, bring him something to hold his hair back. Love you, girls," and she hustled down the stairs.
"This has been just terrible," Joan Green said from the styling chair. "I have been a GP for so long, I've forgotten how exhausting being at the hospital day in and day out really is. I'm used to doing my rounds in the morning and again at the end of the day, but I've been working hands-on in the COVID Ward full time since this began. Twelve to sixteen hour days, six or seven days a week... and in an anti contamination suit. I guess I'm really out of shape, but I feel like I'm at least contributing."
"I'm sure you are, Doc," Mary said through her mask to the woman she'd known since fourth grade - the woman who'd followed Mary's sister from high school to Umass to Umass Medical and became a successful doctor herself. Joan was smart, athletic and beautiful and funny as heck. During normal times, Mary and Joan would meet for dinner or drinks at least once a week. Both were single - Mary widowed and Joan divorced - and they had supported each other through an awful lot of hard times. "Thank God we have you guys. You really are heroes."
"Oh, please," Joan laughed. "We're just doing what we're trained to do. All these signs on people's lawns are a bit much. Someone put a sign on my lawn that said, 'A Hero Lives Here.' I took it down within five minutes of seeing it. It embarrassing."
"People are just trying to say 'thank you,' Doc. No one meant to embarrass you."
Joan laughed. "I guess 'embarrassed' isn't quite the right word. I guess I appreciate the thanks, but... you know what I mean."
"I do," Mary agreed. She pulled the cape free of Joan's shoulders and joined her friend's gaze in the mirror. "What do you think? Did I make you beautiful enough?"
Joan smiled. "You did the best you could with what you had to work with."
"Oh, stop it." Mary wrapped the cape up carefully and placed it into a waste basket, then she took off the smock that she'd worn. "I want to hug you," she shrugged, "but... God, this sucks."
"I know, Mary, but it is what it is. It'll all be over at some point. Now, forget about all that, I'm looking at what you're wearing and I LOVE THIS DRESS! Is it new?"
"Oh," Mary made a bit of a show, swaying from side to side, "do you like it?"
"I LOVE it, Mare. Where did you get it?"
Mary took a breath and the smile beneath her mask was obvious in her eyes. "Well... you remember my nephew, Jordan?"
"Of course, I do. He was such a sweet little boy. I haven't seen him in years, though."
"Well, Jordie is staying with us and... well, he was looking for something to do, so... well, the long and the short of it is, he discovered that he not only sews beautifully, but he LOVES sewing! He's made dresses for all of us and every dress is as pretty as this. Isn't this great!?"
"YOUR NEPHEW MADE THAT DRESS!?!?" Joan gaped at her friend. "That's beautiful! Is he taking orders?"
"Oh, no he's not..." Mary started, but then stopped. "You know, I don't know the answer to that. I can ask him, though. What style are you interested in?"
"That looks comfortable to work in. Is it?"
"Funny you should ask. Just as I was coming out here, the girls and I were talking about how comfortable his dresses are."
"And you think he'll make me one?"
"Like I said, Doc, I'll need to talk to him. Tell you what - I'll call Jordie down here and we can ask him. Why don't we go out into the yard and he can put on a mask and come out. You can ask him yourself."
Three minutes later, Robbie and Frances stepped out of the house with a young, prepubescent girl behind them. The child wore a very cute, lilac dress, flip flops and her hair was held back with a large, floppy, white bow. The girls were waving and calling hellos to the doctor.
"Where's Jordan?" Joan asked.
"Oh," Mary grimaced behind her mask. "I forgot to tell you. Jordie has started wearing the dresses he makes too."
Joan looked from her friend to the group of girls and back again. "That's Jordan? That little girl? That's Jordan!?"
Mary was a bit surprised by her friend's agitation. "Please, don't make a big deal out of it. He's going through a lot right now."
Joan shook her head. "No, no, I won't. I'm sorry. I just... I deal with patients dealing with gender dysphoria all the time, but, Mare... that doesn't look like a twenty something year old man. That looks like a child. Like a female child. Didn't his mother ever look into his lack of growth!? She is a doctor, after all."
"I don't really know, Doc, but can we put a pin in this conversation for now? I don't want to upset Jordie."
"Oh... yes..l of course." She turned and smiled. "Ronnie! Franny! How are you!? And Jordan! My God I haven't seen you since you were probably ten years old! How are you?"
"I'm good," he smiled behind his mask. "And you?" He asked out of politeness, not really having any recollection as to who this woman was.
"I'm fine, jordan, thank you, but your aunt tells me that you made her dress. Is that true?"
"He made all our dresses," Robbie said enthusiastically.
"My goodness, Jordan. They are all beautiful."
"Thank you," Jordan said, a bit uncomfortable about being outside and being confronted by the woman.
"Do you think I might be able to convince you to make a few dresses for me?"
Jordan was surprised by the question. "Umm... a few?"
"Yes," Joan said, matter-of-factly.
"I don't know. What are you looking for?" he asked.
"I'll tell you what, Jordan. I usually shop at some pretty high end stores. I'm used to paying for high quality clothes and these clothes look like they are very well made. How about we make a deal? I'd like to have you sew me five dresses. One in each of the styles I see on your aunt and cousins and maybe two others. I'll pay you one hundred dollars for each dress if I can have them in two weeks. How does that sound?"
The girls gasped and both said Jordan's name in surprise. Jordan, though, just stood there in shock for a moment.
"What do you think, Jordie?" Mary asked. "Doctor Green is offering you five hundred dollars for five dresses. What do you say?"
"I... I... I... say 'yes,' I guess. Thank you, Dr Green. I really can use some money."
"Excellent," Joan said as she clapped her hands. "So... how do we proceed from here?"
Jordan stared blankly, uncertain as to how to answer.
"If I could make a suggestion," Frances offered, "maybe we could set up a video call later and Jordie could walk Dr Green through measuring herself. Then you could look at materials over the phone and Jordie could get started from there."
"Great idea!" Mary said. "Joan? What do you think?"
"Excellent!" She said, then reached into her pocketbook and pulled out some bills. "I'll give this to your aunt, Jordan, since she's wearing gloves. It's two hundred dollars as a down payment. I'll give you the other three hundred when the dresses are done. Sound good?"
"Sounds great!" Jordan finally said. "Thank you, Doctor. Thank you very much."
"My pleasure, Jordan. I can't wait to see my new dresses!"
"Alright," Mary sighed as she stood to clear some dishes from the table, "you can do the shopping tomorrow - but I want you to go early, before there are any crowds, you keep your mask on at all times, you keep hand sanitizer with you and use it frequently and it's one stop - Walmart and back. Lord, I wish there was a smaller store in this town. I just don't trust a place that big."
"I'll be careful, mom. I promise," Frances said, rising to help her stepmother.
"Can I go, too?" Robbie asked, knowing the answer.
"Absolutely not," Mary said with finality. "It's bad enough that I'm sending your sister. If we didn't need paper goods I wouldn't even consider this. If you need anything, tell Franny. She can pick up anything you need. That goes for you, too, Jordie. But no one else is going. That's final."
Robbie nodded, glumly. She didn't particularly like Walmart, but the idea of going somewhere - anywhere - seemed like a nice change of scenery.
"Actually," Robbie said, "I do need a few things. Not a lot, but could I give you a list? Mom, I'm sorry, but could I borrow, like, thirty bucks until I can start back to work?"
"Of course, honey, and that goes for you, too, Jordie. If you need anything - within reason, of course - just let Franny know."
"I could get you some boxers or Y-fronts, or even some jeans or chinos, if you'd like," Frances offered.
Jordan just shook his head, "No thanks," but then he thought for a moment and said, "I probably do need a few things to finish the dress I'm working on for Aunt Mary. Can I think about it and let you know later?"
"Yes, of course." Frances smiled at him. "You know where to find me."
Mary smiled at the mention of the dress. "I'd really like to see that dress tonight, Jordie."
He smirked and shook his head. "It'll be done tomorrow. Then you can see it."
"It's really pretty," Robbie confirmed. "You're going to love it, mom. It's the first 'Original Jordie' design."
It was about an hour and a half later that Jordan leaned into the upstairs den a said, "Franny? Can I talk to you for a few minutes?"
"Sure, Jordie. Come sit," Frances replied, tapping the space on the sofa next to her.
"Umm..." He stood and considered sitting for a moment, but then he took in his aunt and Robbie sitting nearby and made a decision. "Umm... no. That's ok. I'll talk to you later."
He turned and started down the hall, but Frances appeared in the door seconds later. "Jordie? What's up?"
He shrugged. "Nothing. I'll... talk to you later." He stepped into his bedroom.
Frances was confused by his behavior. She considered giving him whatever time he needed, but then thought that she'd just check to be sure he was ok. When she entered his bedroom, Jordan was sitting on the side of his bed looking out the window. He was wearing a new light green nightie he'd made for himself. It was very similar to the first nightie he'd made, but shorter and, instead of the straps going over his shoulders, this one had puffy, capped sleeves. He looked very young and very sad.
"Jordie? What's wrong?"
He looked away. "Nothing. It was stupid, anyway."
"What, Jordie?" Frances sat on the bed beside him. Over the past ten days, Jordan had begun making more eye contact with the family, but now his gaze was, once again, elusive. He was embarrassed about something. "What is it, Jordie. You can tell me. You can tell me anything."
He didn't say anything.
"Is this about what you need at Walmart?"
He nodded and Frances noticed a piece of paper folded in his hand.
"Is that your list?"
He nodded again.
"Can I see it?"
He handed it to her and she read it.
"Ok, Jordie. These are all things for sewing. I can get this for you. Ok?"
He nodded, but hung his head a little.
"Is there anything else you need?" She was trying to be patient without sounding patronizing.
He looked at his other hand realized he was holding something else. He held it up and gave the dollar bills in his hand to Frances.
"Jordie, mom said she'd pay for anything you needed." She smiled and then looked at the money. "Besides, there's a hundred dollars here, Jodie. I don't think that the stuff on your list would cost more than fifteen or twenty bucks."
He shrugged.
"You wanted something else, didn't you?"
He shrugged.
"Jordie... did I embarrass you when I mentioned buying boys underwear and trousers?"
Another shrug and, "Kinda."
"Because you want me to buy you some more panties?"
He nodded. "But... maybe... a little nicer. Softer, maybe."
"Silky?" Frances asked.
"Yes," he whispered.
She put her arm around his shoulder. "Ok, Jordie. I'll pick out some very pretty panties for you. Ok?"
"Thank you," he muttered as he nodded.
Frances studied his face. There was something more that he wasn't saying. "What else would you like me to buy for you, Jordie?"
He took several deep breaths, then said, "Could you give me my iPad?"
Frances turned, saw the tablet on the bed and handed it to Jordan, who signed on and opened the browser. "Could you buy me a couple... of these?"
He handed the iPad back to Frances who looked at the screen. It was signed on to the Walmart website and below the corporate banner was a female model in a bra and panties. The name of the item was to the right of the photo. It read 'Wilderness Dreams Padded Bra Mossy Oak Push-up 32a.'
"You want me to buy you a padded bra?" she asked without judgement.
Jordan just looked at the floor for a moment, then nodded. "Can you?... please?"
"Of course, Jordie. I'll buy it for you. Do you want just one style, or do you want several?"
Again, he pondered. "A few different styles, I guess. I think... I think that I'd like to start wearing one everyday."
She nodded and hugged him. "Ok."
They sat in silence for a few moments, then Frances asked, "Jordie? Why the change of heart? Just last week or so, it seemed like you weren't interested in wearing a bra."
She could tell by the sound of his breathing that he found the conversation embarrassing.
"I know, but... the dresses look so much prettier on you and Robbie. I just... I just want them to hang right on me. You know... like they hang on you."
Frances leaned her head onto Jordan's head and rubbed her cheek on his hair. "Ok, Jordie. Let's get you some bras. I'm sure that you'll love how they make you look."
"And Franny...?"
"Yes, Jordie?"
"Could you, maybe, not tell auntie about it until I try one on and see if I like it?"
"Ok, Jordie. It'll be between you and me."
"Thank you."
"Your hair has really started to glow," Mary said as she prepared the water temperature at the shampoo station the next morning. "Do you like how it looks, now?"
"Yes, auntie. I like it much better than the way it was before."
"Yeah? I'm very glad to hear that, Jordie. Now that you've been wearing it this way for a little while, is there anything different that you'd me to do with it? Maybe cut it shorter or shape it differently? Maybe color it a bit differently? What do you think?"
Jordan shrugged. "Auntie... do you think that, if you colored it or something, that people would think that I was a girl? A real girl, I mean?"
Mary pondered. "Jordie... I think that, if you were to meet someone... they'd think you were a girl, now. Would that bother you?"
He shook his head. "I don't think so. I kinda think that's what I'd want them to think."
Mary nodded. This was all new to her. Was she helping him, or leading him down a dangerous road? "Long term, Jordie... how do you plan to present yourself? As a man? As a woman?"
Jordan blinked. "I don't look like a man, auntie."
"I know, honey, but if we style your hair more masculinely and get you some clothes that fit..."
"...and I'd still look like a weak, little boy. At least this way, I look like a regular girl. I thinks that's better."
Mary smiled a sad smile and nodded. "Ok, baby. Would you like me to do something different? I think I could make you look even prettier. More like a regular girl. What do you, say?"
He nodded. "If we do this... could you, maybe, not tell people that I'm your nephew?"
Mary's smile brightened. "You mean like I did with my friend, Dr Green, yesterday?"
He nodded.
"Ok. It's a deal. Lay back and let's get started. I have a client at eight thirty." She wondered if Jordan was thinking more than a few weeks ahead, though. What would he want to do after the quarantine? What were his sexual desires? Did he want to attract a man? A woman? Was he asexual? Did he even have sexual urges? She knew that, eventually, she'd figure all that out, but it did bother her, just a bit, that she was the one walking Jordan through all these exploration - and at this age, too! Why hadn't her sister helped him to find himself long before this? She'd expected more of his parents.
"Hi," Frances said as she ducked into her sister's room. "Here, these bags are yours. I was able to get everything you wanted except the TRESemme shampoo in the red bottle. Sorry. I could only get the black bottle. There are a lot of empty shelves."
"No problem," Robbie bubbled. "You got tampons, right?"
"Yeah. I bought four boxes so we wouldn't run out."
"Great."
"The rest of this is Jordie's stuff. Is he in the sewing room?"
"Yes, and Franny..." She stopped mid sentence.
"What?"
"Never mind," Robbie giggled. "You'll see for yourself."
Franny squinted at her sister and shook her head at her silliness, then continued down the hall.
When she reached the sewing room, she could hear the sewing machine running, so she entered, speaking loudly. "Hi, Jordie. I got most of the sewing stuff that you asked me get and I got you some nice..." she stopped as she stared at the small, auburn haired girl who was sitting at the sewing machine. She had thick bangs and the hair surrounding her face was shaped to enhance the pudginess of her cheeks and, although it sat luxuriously thick and straight on her head, it cascaded in loose curls from just below the level of her face to her small shoulder, which were on full display in a sleeveless sheath dress that hung so loosely from her shoulders that, had she actually had breasts, they would have not been noticeable.
Frances remembered the dress. It had been one of her favorites when she was in seventh grade and the moment she grew out of it, it became Robbie's favorite, too. The dress had a white background with black piping around the crew neck, arms and hem. There were playful, fashionably childish cartoons of rather self satisfied looking, long necked dinosaurs with demure eyelids and girlish smiles scattered about the dress, while in soft baby-pink, the words 'Dream' and 'Big' were written in planned randomness about the cloth. There were also pairs of baby-pink, puffy clouds with baby-pink line drawings of rainbows between each pair of clouds.
The dress style was grown up enough to appeal a girl entering the first stages of womanhood who wanted to look somewhat womanly, while also infantilize the wearer with the graphics, making sure that she still looked girlish and virginal.
After staring for five or ten seconds, Frances muttered, "Jordie?"
He stopped sewing and bowed his head just a little, enhancing the girlish, demure look that the dress had already created.
"Do I look a lot different?" he asked, cautiously.
Frances let out a big breath and smiled. "I'll say! You do look cute as hell, though, I'll give you that!"
"You mean that in a good way, right?" Jordan didn't always read people's reactions well and he wanted to be sure that she wasn't making fun of him.
Finally able to move again, Frances put the bags she'd been carrying on the cutting table and moved towards her cousin, holding out her arms in front of her, inviting him to take her hands. "Stand up for me. Let me see how pretty you look."
Then, the most amazing thing happened. Jordan smiled. Of course, he'd smiled before, but his smiles were always nervous and self conscious. This smile was broad and carefree. It was the smile of a child who wanted nothing more than to be accepted and who had just found the kind of acceptance he most wanted. Someone he loved had just told him he was pretty.
Jordan took Frances' hands and stood, the loose sheath dress flowing freely around his body.
Frances touched his bangs. "I love your hair, Jordie! That color! The bangs! I can't believe how cute you look!"
"I told you you'd see for yourself!" Robbie giggled from the doorway. "Isn't he just the most perfect thing!?"
Frances was running her fingers through his hair. "He is. He really is. You are, Jordie. You look... just perfect. Do you like how you look?"
"I think I do. Do you like it? Robbie said she did."
Frances looked from Jordan to Robbie and back. "I love it, Jordie, but that's not what's important. What's important is that you like it."
He nodded. "I do, but there is something missing. Did you get... I mean... did they have?"
"Oh, yeah!" Frances grabbed the bags and fished for a moment before pulling a small, lace covered bra with cups that were distinctly padded into decidedly feminine shapes.
"Are you ready to become a teenager?" Frances asked, playfully.
He nodded.
"Here," Robbie hustled to his side, "let me help you take this off." She pulled the dress carefully over his head, leaving him in just a pair of yellow boy shorts.
Jordie looked at Frances, then at the bra and a chill ran down his spine. He was feeling an excitement he didn't expect to feel. He knew that some people found dressing in the clothes of the opposite sex stimulating, but he really hadn't thought much about that. Now, he felt a tingling in his groin that was undeniable. His penis was safely tucked, but he could feel that blood was pumping there in a way that he'd never felt before.
"Ready?" Frances asked.
He turned his back to her and she reached around him, sliding the bra straps up his arms. Once it was situated on his shoulder, she gently connected the hook and eyes in the back. "Is it comfortable?"
He smiled and nodded his head.
"Do you want the matching panties?"
Jordan thought for just a few moments before nodding.
Frances fished through the bags once more before producing a lace covered panty that matched the bra perfectly.
"We'll turn our backs." Robbie smiled and both girls turned away.
As soft as the boy shorts were, these were different. The nylon was silky and cool on his hairless skin and when the panties gripped his hips and rear end, they felt like nothing he'd ever felt before. Soft, sensuous... pretty. It took a moment to secure himself into the gusset of the panties so as not to let his cousins know that he was excited by the panties, but he did manage to get his penis under control before the girls turned around.
"All set?" Robbie asked.
"Yes."
Robbie guided the dinosaur dress back over his head, once again being careful of his hair. The material wafted back down around him and, even though his new, shapely breasts weren't all that visible, there was an imperceptible something that was more perfect about the way the dress hung.
"Well?" Robbie asked, her eyes wide.
"Well, what?"
"Well? How does if feel?"
A smile spread on Jordan's face as his cheeks blushed under his make up. "It feels nice. Really nice. Kinda... right... I guess. Does it make me look more like you guys?"
Frances turned her attention back to the bags while Robbie moved behind Jordan and pulled the fabric of the dress taut so that the delicate shape of his new breasts was visible in Jordan's reflection in the nearby mirror. "I think it does, Jordie. What do you think?"
He raised his shoulders as if to begin a shrug, but instead he shook just slightly in a very girly way, pulling the fabric from Robbie's gentle grasp and letting the it shake playfully as it now hung on him - hanging away from his body due to the padded bra's added girth. "I love it. It feels really nice."
"Here," France said, "I got you these, too."
She held out two small, black, cloth flats. They were not in any way ornate, but just simple, classic and decidedly female.
"Oh, wow. Thanks!" He took them, dropped them to the floor, stepped out of the flip flops he'd been wearing and slipped the shoes on. They fit in such a strange and wonderful way. The shape of the base of his toes barely visible before disappearing under the stretchy, black fabric.
He bounced on his toes and said, "I love them, thank you, Franny." Then, very suddenly, and much to her surprise, he suddenly reached out and hugged her, his head nestling on the top of her beast, his arms wrapping around her torso.
Frances looked at her sister with a look of shock on her face, but that look soon changed to a wide mouthed expression of 'wow!'
Robbie was drop-jawed, too, and she laughed, silently.
After a moment of shock, France wrapped her arms around her little cousin and returned the hug. "You're very welcome, Jordie. I'm glad you like everything. See. You can tell me anything. I'm always here to help you."
When they separated, Jordan asked, "Were you able to get the pearl buttons I had on my list?"
"Oh, yes." Frances pulled the small package from the bags. "Here."
"Perfect," he smiled. "It'll only take me a few minutes for me to sew these on the collar of auntie's dress and then it'll be all done."
He hurried to the dress on the dress-dummy and checked the buttons with the collar of the dress. Happy with the match, he quickly threaded a needle and went to work hand sewing the buttons into place.
While he was focused on that, Frances tapped Robbie's shoulder and signaled her to come out into the hall. Once they were out of ear shot, she whispered, "Did you know that mom was going to do his hair like that?"
Robbie shook her head. "I was as surprised as you when I saw him, but he's precious, isn't he?"
"Well, yeah, but... I mean... wow! Robbie, he's a twenty years old. He looked young before, but now... honestly, he looks like a twelve year old. If we ever get in touch with his mom and dad..."
Robbie shrugged. "I don't care."
"What do you mean, you don't care?"
"I don't care what they think. Did you see him, just now? He's happy, Franny. He's finding himself... or maybe he's finding herself... I don't know, but we've known Jordie for what... eight years? Nine years? And how many times have you ever seen him smile like that? To be in the moment like that? To hug you, Franny? I've never seen him hug anyone, before. Sure, mom has hugged him and we've given him little ones, but I nearly cried when I saw him hug you, just now. Franny... that's amazing! I don't care how rich or smart his parents are, they've been pretty shitty parents to him and if we can help him to be happy, then that's great with me. Isn't that what mom wants us to do? Help him become a whole person?"
Franny had to agree, so she nodded. "Man... the crap is going to hit the fan when they see him, though."
At that moment, Jordan stuck his head out into the hall. "Can you send auntie a text and tell her that her dress is ready whenever she has a moment to try it on?"
"Sure, Jordie," Frances said as she pulled out her phone. As she typed, she whispered to her sister, "I don't think that we're going to ever have a big, family Thanksgiving dinner in this house, again."
"Oh, Jordie," Mary gushed, "I just love it!" The top of the dress appeared to be a white, sleeveless blouse fitted loosely around her torso, while the bottom was a wide-bottomed, brilliant blue that hung even more loosely, and ended mid-calf.
Jordan smiled, happy with the way the dress hung on his aunt. "I'm glad you like it. I was going to use small, white buttons on the neck opening, but Franny was able to get me those little pearl ones. I like those better. I hope you do, too."
"Honestly, Jordie, I could not be happier with this dress or prouder of you for having designed and made it. It's absolutely beautiful." She turned and hugged him, tightly, but she immediately noticed the bra straps on his back and the feel of the padded cups. She paused for just a moment, but finished the hug without comment. "I bet Dr Green is going to be very jealous when she sees me wearing this."
"It's almost too nice to wear around, mom," Robbie said.
Frances joined, "Maybe you'll get a hot date when all of this is over and you can wear it then."
Mary chuckled at that. "Oh, yeah. You know how many 'hot dates' I had before I met your father? None. And since he passed way? None. I think it's just beautiful, Jordie, and I'm going to wear it frequently to celebrate your creativity."
"I'm glad," Jordan replied, and Mary could see that he meant it, too. This was a breakthrough. He was smiling on his own. Showing pride in his work. Being creative. Sharing with them.
"How are Dr Green's dresses coming?" Mary asked.
"I've already finished one and I've been cutting out the second one. Here's the first one. I kept it kind of plain so she could wear it to work. I looked up some unofficial guidelines for professional women and I sort of stuck to those."
The dress was pale yellow with small polka dots on it. Again, the fabric design was just a little dated, but could be considered to be 'retro' and 'trendy' in the right application, and this certainly looked like the right application. The sleeveless, form fitting dress would look lovely on the doctor's fit body.
"Do you think she'll like it?" Jordan asked. "The style is kind of similar to dresses I saw her wearing on her Facebook page."
"You went prowling on her Facebook page?" Franny laughed.
"Just to see what she liked to wear," Jordan said without any guilt. "Anyway, I should be able to have them all finished in a week or so."
"That's excellent, Jordie," Mary said, still looking at her own new dress in the mirror.
"I bet she'll be surprised it you're done ahead of schedule." Robbie smiled at her clever cousin.
"Ok," Mary clapped her hands, "how about we call for pizza, tonight? It's already a bit late in the day and I haven't had a chance to prepare anything. I'll call from down stairs. Jordie, you clean-up up here and, girls, meet me in the kitchen to get things ready for supper."
"Get things ready? For pizza?" Robbie seemed surprised. "Isn't it usually paper plates and eating in the downstairs den room for pizza?"
"Yes," Mary's tone indicated that Robbie was not following her train of thought, "but I need you to help me get everything ready."
"Oh... ok," Robbie nodded.
"Help me out of this, Franny," Mary added. "I don't want to eat pizza in a dress this pretty. You know me. I'll get grease on it with the first bite. I'll put on something more casual."
"I assume you bought him that bra, today," Mary said to Frances when they were all downstairs, away from Jordan's ears.
"Well... yes..." Frances shrugged, a little surprised that her stepmother would even ask that question. "He asked me to and I didn't see any harm in it. He's already dressed like a girl. He just wanted to look a little older, I think."
Mary nodded, and before she could speak, Frances continued, "Besides, you colored and styled his hair to look like it does. Bra or not, he'd look like a girl no matter what he wore, now." Her tone was more hurt than accusatory, but Mary understood that the reason for her question had been misunderstood.
"I think he looks adorable," Robbie added.
"I'm not upset," Mary shook her head. "At least not about that. I am curious, though. Did he say WHY he wanted a bra?"
Frances nodded. "To look more like all of us. He said he wanted his dresses to hang better... and probably to look more grown up, too. I think that he thought Dr Green spoke to him like he was a child. And, let's face it, mom... she did."
Mary heaved a heavy sigh. "All of that aside, my sister is not going to be happy about this when she comes home. She's a liberal woman, but Jordie is her only son. She may be less liberal about his needs than she is about the general concept of transgenderism." She thought for a moment, then asked Frances. "Any luck finding them through the Internet?"
She shook her head. "Did you call Switzerland to ask at their headquarters?"
"I did," Mary nodded. "They said that someone would get back to me and hung up on me. It doesn't seem possible that two professionals could just disappear at this point in the twenty first century."
"There may only be limited, or maybe even no internet where they are in China, mom. I'm sure they'll get back to us as soon as they can."
Mary pulled a jug of iced tea from the refrigerator, then opened a cabinet to retrieve glasses. "Has he said anything to either of you about his long term plans? Like, living as a woman? Or becoming a woman? Anything like that?"
The both shook their heads.
"God, I feel like I'm in so far over my head, right now, but... I mean... I did the right thing, didn't I? His hair, I mean. I was just trying to make him feel more comfortable with himself."
By the time the pizza was delivered, all four of them had settled into an old episode of 'Parks and Rec' on NetFlix in the downstairs den.
"I can't believe that Chris Pratt was so pudgy back then," Frances said. "He's so buff as Star Lord in the Guardians movies."
"He's still pretty good looking," Robbie argued. "He's not fat or anything. Kind of a cute dad-body even though he was only in his twenties."
"What do you think, Jordie?" Mary asked prodded, just to include him.
"I don't know," he shook his head. "I like the Guardians movies though, and the Jurassic Park ones he was in. I just think he's pretty funny."
"Yes, he is," Mary smiled.
"Not your cup of though, huh?" Frances teased.
"No," was his brief reply.
"Well, my fantasy actor crush is definitely Rami Malek. I think his eyes are beautiful," Robbie swooned.
"Eww..." Frances giggled.
"Well, who is your fantasy movie star date, then?"
"I'd have to say... Zac Efron. Those pants he wore in 'The Greatest Showman'... Ahh... be still my heart!"
They all laughed at that.
"Mom?" Robbie asked.
"Well... I know that he's getting along in years, but I'd have to say that Tom Cruise is still as hot as hell!"
"No arguments from me!" Frances laughed.
"Oh, ick!" Robbie laughed at her sister. "He's like twice your age!"
"And still hot as hell!" Frances quoted her mother.
"How about you, Jordie?" Robbie asked innocently, but everyone was interested in the answer.
He thought for a moment, then said, "I think Gal Gadot is really pretty. I don't think she'd ever date me, but she's beautiful."
"Well, don't worry." Frances laughed loudly. "I don't think that Zac Efron is going to be asking me out anytime soon, either!"
They all laughed joyfully, even Jordan.
They had placed their paper plates and paper napkins in the empty pizza box and Robbie had taken the glasses out to the kitchen as the end credits to the third episode they'd watched began to scroll past. She was hurrying to get back into the TV room to see the next episode when someone knocked on the door. That had not happened in nine weeks. Everyone froze.
Mary stood and called, "Just a moment," then looked at Robbie. "Grab my mask off of the doorknob of the back door."
They knocked again.
"Coming. Just give me a moment to put on my mask," she called again.
Once her mask was on, she went to the door and looked through the eye piece. The man didn't look familiar, but even if she did know him, the distortion of the eyepiece and the mask that the man wore would have made it difficult for her to recognize him.
Mary cracked the heavy wooden door open and said, "Would you please step off of the stoop before I open the storm door?"
"Oh, yes, of course," the man said and stepped down the one step to the walkway.
Mary opened the wooden door, then cracked the storm door open. "Yes?" She asked.
The man held up a business card and offered it to her. "My name is James Leary," he said. "I'm an attorney."
Mary shook her head. "I don't want your card, Mr Leary. I'd rather not touch anything without gloves on. What can I do for you?"
"Oh," the man said, tucking the card back into his pocket. He was very well dressed in an obviously expensive suit and tie and a tan overcoat. "Of course. I apologize, ma'am. Force of habit, you know."
"What can I do for you?" Mary was a bit concerned that a lawyer would be knocking on her door at six thirty in the evening.
"I'm sorry, ma'am," he said, "I can't even think straight with this darned mask on. I am looking for Jordan Alden. Is he staying with you?"
Now, feeling very protective, she asked, "Why?"
By now, Jordan and his cousins were in the hallway, listening.
"You are his aunt, are you not? I was led to believe that he may be staying with you since his school closed."
"Mr Leary," Mary stood a bit more defensively, "this conversation is a bout to end, unless you tell me why you are looking for Jordan."
"Well, this is a private, legal matter, ma'am. I would rather talk to Mr Alden in private..."
"Have a good day, Mr Leary." Mary stepped back and pulled the storm door closed.
As she was pushing the heavy wooden door closed, the man said, "Wait, wait, wait! I do need to speak to Mr Alden about a very important matter."
"Perhaps we should schedule a meeting, then, and I can call an attorney to be present for my nephew. Why don't you call me and..."
"ma'am, please!" The man was insistent. "I am actually acting as Jordan's attorney at this point in this matter. It is very important that I speak to him."
Mary considered this for a moment. "Wait just a minute, please." She said as she closed the door.
She turned to the three in the hallway. "Jordie, do you have any idea why a lawyer is looking for you?"
Jordan's eyes opened wide. "No. I didn't do anything. I've never even spoken to a lawyer, that I know of."
Mary nodded. "Franny, grab Jordan a disposable mask from the box in the back hall. Maybe we should at least see what this is about."
Seconds later, Jordan was masked and stood beside Mary by the door. After making sure that Jordan was all set, she swung the door open. "This is Jordan, Mr Leary,"
The man seemed a bit confused. "Oh... I... well... I'm sorry, I just thought that Jordan was a young m..." he shook his head, reminding himself that things had changed since he was young. "I'm sorry. Forgive me. Let me start again. Jordan, my name is James Leary and I have been looking for you for nearly three weeks, now. Every since... well... ever since the news reached us."
Mary and Jordan glanced at each other, confused.
"News, Mr Leary?" Mary asked. "What news?"
"Well..." Now he seemed truly flustered. "The news of... surely, someone contacted you about..." He took a moment to regroup, cleared his throat and stated, flatly, "Jordan... I represent the estate of your parents. I am hear to discuss the distribution of their estate with you."
Jordan stared blankly, not able to process what was just said.
Mary's head drooped forward and her knees nearly gave out as she muttered, "Oh, dear God."
To Be Continued...
Quarantine: 4 - Troubled Waters
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
Other Keywords:
Permission:
for Jordan and he tries to come to come to terms with everything that has been thrown
at him.
Author's Note: Thank you for all of your reviews and support! Please, please, please continue to comment - pro or con. I find it very helpful. ~Clara.
This version of Quarantine: 4 - Troubled Waters 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
"Umm... perhaps you should come in," Mary muttered, uncertainly, as she tried to get her bearings. She'd just been informed that, apparently, her sister and her sister's husband had died and she was having a hard time thinking clearly. "Just give us a moment to get ready for you, please. I'm not comfortable with anyone entering the house at the moment, but... just give us a few minutes, please."
She turned to her daughters and said, "Put on masks. This gentleman needs to come in to talk to Jordie. Umm... Franny, grab one of the plastic table cloths in the pantry - the ones we use on the picnic table in the summer. Spread it on the kitchen table. We'll throw it out when he leaves."
She was following the girls to the kitchen when she realized that Jordan was still waiting by the door. She turned and walked back to him and wrapped him in a hug. "I'm so sorry, baby. Are you going to be ok to talk to this man?"
He shrugged. "I think so. He meant that they died, right? My mother and father. They're dead?"
"I think so, baby. Right now, though, you know as much as I do. Let's talk to this man and see what happened, ok?"
He nodded. "Auntie... why aren't I crying about this?"
"It will come, baby, I'm sure. You're probably in shock, right now. God knows, I am. Come on. Let's get things ready and we'll talk to Mr Leary and we'll see what happened. Then we'll talk about how we feel. Ok?"
"Ok."
Within a few minutes, James Leary, Esquire, was sitting at the kitchen table, opening his briefcase and looking solemn. "I am very sorry for your loss," he said, his look taking in everyone. Frances was to his left, holding Mary's hand. Mary, across from him, held Jordan's hand, also across from him, and he, in turn, held Robbie's hand and she sat to his right. "Of course, I assumed that you had been notified by Doctors Without Borders, or the State Department, but the world is so topsy-turvy right now... anyway, I hope that I wasn't too indelicate in telling you. I am truly sorry if I was."
"We understand, Mr Leary," Mary spoke. As her eyes became more red rimmed, so did the eyes of her stepdaughters. They never felt particularly close to Mary's sister and her husband, but they could see the pain building in Mary and that made them emotional as well. "Can you tell us how they passed?"
"Oh," he fished a paper out of his briefcase, "this is what I received." He waved the paper. "See, I was dealing with their interests in this country while they were away, so my name was the first they found. They told me that the State Department would notify the family, though, and since you are the only family..."
"How did they pass?" Mary interrupted.
"Of course," he muttered, then read, 'Mr Leary. We are contacting you today as the business agent of two of our doctors. It is our unfortunate duty to notify you of the death of Dr Margaret Alden on April 27, 2021 and the subsequent passing of her husband, Dr William Alden, on April 28. Both doctors succumbed to the COVID-19 virus which they contracted while working to save the lives of the people of the world. Our organization will contact the family of Doctors Alden through the State Department of The United States. You can contact us through our offices in Geneva...' "Well, it goes on to give me some email addresses and phone numbers, but since the estate is pretty straight forward, I didn't really need to do much other than talk to the probate office."
Mary wiped a tear from her face. "Do you know how long they were sick, or if they suffered, or about getting their bodies back for burial..."
He held up a hand as a gently signal to stop. "No, ma'am, I do not know anything about their illness beyond what is in the letter, but I did inquire about their remains."
He paused and swallowed.
"Unfortunately, due to the current fear of contamination, their bodies have already been cremated and..."
Mary turned to Jordan and hugged him tightly as she let out a guttural scream of despair. Then she shook with tears.
"I am very sorry," the lawyer said as gently as he could. Then he organized his paperwork as he tried not to look at the heartbroken people around him.
"Oh, Jordie, honey, I'm so, so sorry," she wailed.
He did his best to empathize with his favorite person in the world. He patted her back and squeezed her tightly. "I'm sorry, too, auntie. I'm sorry."
Realizing she was confusing Jordie, who had a hard time navigating the world of emotions in the best of times, she slowly untangled herself from their hug and kissed his cheek. "We'll get through this, baby."
He nodded, uncertain of what other response was appropriate.
Frances touched her stepmother's arm. "Are you ok, mom?"
Mary hugged her. "No, honey, I am not, but... let's get through this."
"How about you, Jordie?" Robbie asked. "Are you ok?"
He shrugged. "I don't know. I feel... I'm not really sure how I feel, but... I know I'm sad. I just don't know how to feel anything except that."
Robbie hugged him and kissed his cheek. "You're ok, Jordie. Everyone processes these thing differently. When daddy died, I just felt empty for weeks."
He raised his head. "That's what I feel. I feel... empty."
"Well," Mr Leary said, as he cleared his throat and shuffled some papers around, "I just need to confirm a few details."
He checked Jordan's social security number and birthdate, which he did check twice due to his skepticism that jordan could possibly be twenty years old. Then he explained, "The terms of the estate are rather simple, since Jordan is already past the age of maturity." He looked at the small boy with auburn hair in the cute little dress with the dinosaurs and said, "As you know, your parents recently sold the house in Winchester and that money has been deposited in the Alden Family Trust..."
"Trust?" Mary asked.
The lawyer kept his head down and looked up over his glasses. "Yes, ma'am. The doctors put the majority of their wealth into a trust to avoid taxes and be sure that there was money left behind for their... son." The last word seemed to be tinged with just a hint of contempt. Jordan didn't seem to notice, but Mary and the girls certainly did.
Mary nodded and the lawyer continued.
"The trust does, however own the family house on Martha's Vineyard..."
"We..." Jordan interrupted, "... we never owned a house on Martha's Vineyard."
Again, the lawyer looked up over the top of his glasses. "In fact you do. They bought the house in September of nineteen ninety nine. It appears that it has been exclusively a rental property since twenty-ofive.
Jordan looked at his aunt. "Have you ever been to that house?"
Mary shook her head. "I never heard of it."
"I assure you, you own the house in the town of Oak Bluffs and the value of the property is currently estimated to be six million dollars."
Everyone at the table gasped.
"Six MILLION?" Frances asked. "A house is worth six million dollars? How is that even possible!?"
The lawyer shrugged. "Must be a nice place. According to the rental records, both President Clinton and President Obama have stayed there. It appears to only be rented for a few weeks every year, but at a very high rate."
"Whoa!" Robbie muttered.
"There is also the doctors' investments in various companies. Those are currently valued at twelve point six million dollars."
Another gasp.
"That's a lot of money," Robbie muttered, again. "Jordie, it looks like you're a rich person."
"We've always been the poor relatives," Frances said, "but now you probably won't even want to be seen with us."
"Yeah," Robbie nodded. "You can live anywhere in the world that you want."
Jordan felt a chill run down his spine at that remark.
"There is more," the lawyer said to get things back on track.
When he had their attention, he said, "So, as of today, Jordan, you are the sole member of the board of directors of The Alden Family Trust. I would recommend that you find someone else to serve on the board with you, because, as I said, the value of property owned by the trust is six million dollars, the current value of the stocks and securities, which have recently suffered a bit of a loss due to the COVID-19 related drop in stock market values, but, as I stated, they are valued at twelve point six million dollars and the cash assets in the trust are values at eighty one million dollars, bringing the value of your assets, Jordan, to approximately one hundred million dollars."
"Holy God," Mary muttered as her head shook slowly in disbelief.
Jordan stared blankly at the lawyer. Nothing he was saying was making any sense to him. "My parents are dead?" He asked.
"Yes." The lawyer replied.
"And you want to give me their money?"
"Well... yes... but... it's YOUR money, now Jordan. By the way, all of the paperwork indicates that the heir is their SON, Jordan. I assume that, when I write all of this up, I should change the wording to read DAUGHTER, correct?"
"Why?" Jordan asked, looking at the lawyer's tie.
"Well... because..." the lawyer sputtered. "You are...
transitioning... aren't you?"
"Transitioning?" Jordan's gaze remained steadfast.
Attorney Leary looked at each face in the room. No one quite knew what to say. What the hell was with these people? Was this kid a boy or a girl? We're they trying to scam him? "You are Jordan Alden?"
"Yes."
"And your parents were Margaret and James Alden of Winchester, Massachusetts?"
"Yes."
The silence of the other family members in the room was frustrating the attorney. What the hell? Didn't they see how weird this was? "I mean," he tried to clarify, although he could not for the life of him figure out why he needed to, "you are currently female, or in the process of becoming female, correct?"
Jordan looked around. "No. I mean... I'm dressing like this because... I like it. That's all."
"Oh..." the lawyer seemed even more confused.
"You see, Mr Leary," Mary said, "Jordan came here with, shall we say, just the clothes on his back, and his dressing like this is just... more convenient at the moment."
Leary looked at the young woman before him. This wasn't just a case of borrowing clothes to get by, but that wasn't the issue at hand. "I see. So, regarding the trust...."
"I don't want it," Jordan said suddenly.
The lawyer looked up, startled. "I beg your pardon?"
"I don't want their money," Jordan said, firmly.
"But..." the lawyer was flummoxed.
"Jordie," Mary could see her nephew's body tensing, his jaw clinching, the stress building. When he was young, Jordan had been prone to violent tantrums when he couldn't understand a given situation. They always began with this kind of tightening. He was shutting down. All of his progress of the last few months was about to be wiped out if she couldn't calm him down. "Jordie, the money is already yours. Your parents built this fortune up over the course of their lives so that you would be taken care of. They did all of this for you, because they loved you so much..."
"LOVED ME!?" Jordan said with more force than either of the girls had ever seen him exhibit. "If they loved me, then why did they run away from me the first chance they had? The day after I left for college, they announced that they were selling our house. They just wanted to get away from me."
"No, baby. They wanted to do some good in a part of the world that needed their help."
"I NEEDED THEIR HELP! I NEEDED THEM, BUT THEY LEFT ME! THEY LEFT ME! THEY LEFT ME!" He stood moved away from the table. "THEY NEVER LOVED ME! THEY HATED ME! THEY HATED ME SO MUCH THAT ALL THEY WANTED TO DO WAS LEAVE ME BEHIND! THEY DIED JUST TO MAKE SURE THAT THEY'D NEVER SEE ME AGAIN!!!" He ran out of the kitchen and up the stairs.
"Jordie!" Mary yelled, but Robbie stood up before her mother did.
"You stay here, mom. I'll go talk to him." She said and she disappeared before Mary could stop her.
Mary looked at Frances. "I should go after her. He might need me."
"Robbie can handle him, mom," Frances assured her. "Just let them be for a little bit."
Mary took a breath, then looked at the lawyer. "I... I apologize, Mr Leary. This is, obviously, not how Jordan usually behaves. It's just been a lot to drop on him all at once and he's a very sensitive young man..."
"With all due respect, ma'am," Leary interrupted, "that kid needs help. The clothes, the make-up, the spoilt-brat attitude... he needs some professional help pretty damned quickly. I think it would be ill advised at this time to allow him access to..."
Mary's rage grew quicker than she could ever had imagined it could. She rose quickly, stared at the lawyer, then raised her right hand high above her head before slamming it down on the tabletop and shutting off the lawyer's words. "How dare you." She growled.
"ma'am, as I said, with all due..."
"You get the fuck out of my house NOW before I throw you out myself."
The man sat back in his chair and looked at the two women across from him. He smirked, just a little before he spoke. "Umm... I think it would be best to resolve these matters as quickly as possible..."
"OUT!" Mary screamed and pointed at the door.
"ma'am... there is the matter of a hundred, million dollars to resolve."
"And we will resolve it when my nephew has processed the fact that his parents have died, Mr. Leary. Now, GET OUT OF MY HOUSE, NOW!"
The man stood and gathered his papers, leaving a folder on the table. He stuffed his papers into his briefcase, but pulled out another of his business cards and placed it on top of the folder he'd left behind. He smiled a fake, ugly smile and said, "Call me when you're ready to talk through these things." He turned and walked down the hall and out the front door.
As soon as the front door closed, Mary collapsed into her seat, crossed her arms on the table in front of her and buried her face into her arms as she wailed and cried. "Oh, Maggie! Oh, Maggie! Maggie how could you leave us like this?"
Frances sat next to her and tried to figure out how to offer any solace. When she couldn't think of anything to do, she laid her head on her stepmother's back, hugged her and cried right along with her.
"Jordie?" Robbie tapped on his door. "Jordie? Can I come in?"
She could hear something banging firmly into the wall. She knocked again.
"Jordie? Please. Can I come in?"
When there was still no answer, she turned the knob, surprised to find the door unlocked.
"Jordie?" She opened the door slowly, then entered. Jordan was in the room, sitting at the foot of the bed, his eyes focused on the gloomy evening outside and his right foot was swinging back and forth, banging into the the wall with his toes and the bedpost with his heel on each stroke.
Robbie sat next to him. She didn't speak for a few moments. Then she took his hand in hers. She kissed his palm, then used her second hand to hold his hand tightly with both of hers.
Eventually she said, "Are you going to be ok?"
He shrugged.
"We love you, Jordie. We're here to help you, through all this."
Jordan let out a huge breath. "I want... to hit something. I want to scream. I want... I want to hurt myself. I... don't know what to do, Robbie. I'm so... mad, right now and I should be sad. I should be crying. What's wrong with me? I'm such a freak."
Robbie just nodded and listened.
"They had no right to do this. They had no right to leave me. To die on me. They had no right."
She continued holding his hand, but laid her head on his shoulder.
"They didn't love me, Robbie. They never loved me. I'm so mad at them, right now, though... I just want to hurt something... anything... me."
"Don't," Robbie whispered. "It won't help. It'll only hurt more."
He began to shake. He shook so hard that Robbie thought he may be having a seizure. She raised her head and looked at him. His pulled his hand from hers, and suddenly, both clenched tightly. His jaw was stressed with emotion. His eyes were closed and every muscle in his body clenched tightly as his shaking head turned toward the ceiling and he let out a huge, primal roar of hurt and pain.
"Jordie?" Robbie was very frightened for him, but not of him.
The roar must have lasted ten seconds or more before he had to breathe, again. The shaking continued, but now all of his hurt and pain and anger turned into tears and sobs and gasps.
"Oh, Jordie," Robbie said as she pulled his head towards her breasts and held him, tightly.
"Oh," he wailed and wailed. "Oh."
"We love you, Jordie," Robbie said, over and over and over. "We love you, Jordie. We love you."
The next morning, Mary looked into Robbie's room. The bed was unmade. She knew where her stepdaughter was, though. She'd been holding a distraught Jordan the night before and had refused to leave or even let go of him.
Mary walked down the hall and looked into Jordan's room. They were both on the bed, Robbie laying behind Jordan, her arm around him.
Then Mary noticed another form sitting at the foot of the bed. Frances was sitting on the floor, her head against the mattress.
"Hi," Frances whispered.
"Hi," Mary said back. "Have you been in here all night?"
Frances shook her head. "I sat by your doorway until you were asleep. Then I came here. They've only been asleep a little while. It took a long time for Jordie to cry himself out."
Mary nodded. "Why don't you go to bed? I'll sit with them."
Frances shook her head. "I'm fine, here."
Mary entered and looked at the bed. She bent and kissed both Jordan and Robbie on the forehead. Then she walked to the end of the bed and sat on the floor beside Frances. She gave her a sad smile, then her jaw shook and her smile disappeared as she wept again. She took Frances' hand in hers and, through her tears she whispered, "I love all so much."
It was past nine that morning before Robbie rolled to the side and opened her eyes, surprised to find her sister and stepmother sitting on the floor beside the bed.
"Morning, honey," Mary gave a sad smile.
"Morning, mom," she whispered back. She glanced at her sleeping cousin. "Jordie's still asleep?"
"No," he mumbled. "I'm awake. I just don't want to move." After a pause, he mumbled, "Can you guys, please go away and leave me alone for, like... ever?"
Mary looked at Robbie and bobbed her head indicating that it was ok for the girl to get out of bed. Robbie turned, kissed Jordan's cheek and whispered, "I'll go make you some toast and tea if you want."
"Thanks, but I don't want it," Jordan didn't even open his eyes.
Robbie slid gracefully from the covers and stood, straightening the wrinkled dress she'd slept in.
"Go help yourself sister, please," Mary said to Frances.
"Ok," Frances took Robbie's hand and stood.
When the girls had left the room, Mary sat on the bed, her back towards the back of Jordan's legs. She rubbed his side and sighed. What was the right thing to say? There was no way of knowing. So she just started talking. "Are you going to be ok?"
"I don't think so." There was nothing dramatic about his voice. He was just answering the question.
"That's fair." Mary agreed. "I don't think I'll be ok either." She checked her own emotions. This was about Jordan.
"Why, auntie?"
"Why, what, baby? Why did they die?"
"No. Why did you love them?"
"Oh, baby... that's... that's quite a question. I mean, your mom was my sister. I loved her because she was my sister. We grew up together. We shared everything thing growing up. She was family and you love your family."
He shrugged, still laying with his back to her. "I don't know. I don't think she really loved me. I know she didn't like Uncle Bill... of Franny or Robbie. She used to say that he only married you so the girl's would have a babysitter."
This wasn't news to Mary. Her sister had said these exact words to her face on more than one occasion - including her wedding day. In fact, on the day of Mary's husband's funeral, her sister, after having a couple of glasses of wine, looked at Frances and Robbie across the room and said to Mary, 'Well, I guess you're stuck with those two, now.' It broke her heart that her sister would say something like that, but that was how she was.
"I know..." Mary said calmly, "but I forgave her for that, Jordie. Bill was... well... the opposite of your mom and dad. They were all business, always planning for the future, always needing to be the smartest people in the room... I always said that Bill was six foot three inches of life. He enjoyed every second he lived. We weren't rich, but we never went without and he treated me, and your grandmother and your great grandmother like queens. He loved your parents, too. He always hoped that they'd learn to like him, but... some things aren't meant to be."
It was quiet for over a minute. Mary rubbed his hip through the bed clothes and his dress and both mulled over things.
"I've been thinking about this all night, auntie, and... I don't think I loved them."
"Jordie, please... don't say that."
"But listen, auntie - I know that everyone thinks I'm weird and unfeeling, and I guess I kind of am, but I know what love is."
Mary let the pause linger before asking, "How do you know that, baby?"
"Because I love you."
A lump caught in her throat.
"When I think about you - or Franny or Robbie - I feel... different. Like... I belong with you guys. When mom told me to come here for the quarantine, I was almost afraid to come."
That seemed like an odd follow up to his previous statements, so Mary needed to ask, "Why would that scare you, Jordie?"
He breathed a few times before saying, "Because... I was afraid that if I was near you guys for too long... you'd find out what a freak I am and you wouldn't love me back."
"Oh, Jordie..." it was all she could do to keep herself together. "We'll always love you."
He shrugged. "Anyway... That's why I don't want the money."
"Because you don't think you loved your parents enough?"
"No..." he had to catch his breath because, suddenly, he was sobbing. "I want to live here."
"What?" Mary was thoroughly baffled, now. "Jordie, you can stay here forever if you want."
"But, last night, when Robbie heard how much money they left me, she said I could live anywhere I wanted. I don't want to live anywhere else. I want to live here. Forever." Now, he cried desperately into his pillow.
Mary reached for him, knowing he'd pull away, but he didn't. Instead, he rolled toward her and buried his head in her lap. She tried to sooth him with ssh-ing sounds as she patted his auburn hair. "Then stay here forever, baby. Nothing would make us happier."
Slowly, his sobs slowed and his breathing returned to normal. "Thank you," he choked out.
After a few minutes, Mary said, "But, Jordie... you really should take the money. It is yours and, I know that they weren't the most touchyfeely parents, but this is their way of taking care of you."
He shook his head. "I can't. I told that man that I didn't want it."
"Don't worry, baby. I'll call the lawyer I use. She'll help us. Once you get the money, you can do whatever you want with it. Invest it. Pay off your college debt. Ignore it. Donate it to charity... whatever you want, but I don't want that Mr Leary to make a nickel off of it. I don't like him."
"Me neither," Jordan agreed.
"Come on, baby. Let's get you out of bed. You take a nice long shower, then we'll have something to eat and figure everything out. Ok?"
"Ok," he said as he pulled himself into a seated position beside her.
"And, baby... no matter what happens... from now until the end of the earth... you and Robbie and Franny and I are a family. Do you understand that. We will always be together. Forever."
They had bacon, egg and cheese sandwiches on kaiser rolls for 'brunch' that morning. They all chatted about the weather, the pandemic, the chances of returning to school in the fall, the possibilities of normalcy returning to any aspect of life in the near future... anything but the death of Jordan's parents.
When they were done, Jordan said he was going to go to his sewing room, but Mary insisted that he needed to take the day off and relax. "I've cancelled all my clients for the day," she explained. "Let's just give ourselves the next twenty hours or so to take a breath."
"It's really warm out, today," Frances said. "I think I'll take a nice, long walk. Anyone want to come?"
"I can't, honey," Mary stood to clear the table. "I need to call Sue Lewis."
Frances nodded, recognizing the family lawyer's name.
"I'll go!" Robbie bubbled. "I need some fresh air. Jordie?"
Before he could back out of the walk, Mary said, "That's what you need this morning, Jordie. A nice walk. Look at the three of you looking just perfect in those dresses. Go on and show the world how beautiful you are."
"Yeah, come on, Jordie," Robbie pleaded. "I want the world to see us in your dresses and, to be honest, I need an hour or so outside before I burst. Please... come with us."
He smiled at the silly way she was pretending to beg. "Ok. I guess I could use some air, too."
"Yay!" Robbie cheered.
"Take your masks with you," Mary said as they got up from the table. "If you meet up with anyone, those masks go on IMMEDIATELY! Understood?"
"Yes, ma'am," the sisters and their cousin said in unison as they headed for the door.
"Jesus, Mary and Joseph," Susan Lewis said at the other end of the phone. "Mare, I don't know anything about handling an estate of that value. I do think that that Attorney Leary was right, though. The first thing to do is to get everything into a family trust, then we can investigate options from there."
"Just so I understand," Mary was taking copious notes, "why do you call it a 'family' trust?"
"Well, it is typical for families to set up trusts that protect the source of their wealth. Usually, the board of directors of that trust would consist of members of the family, plus an attorney, or maybe an accountant. These people manage the funds and have access to them as well, so choose people you trust."
"So, could the board of directors be just you and Jordie?"
"Well... yes... but there should be other family members as well. If anything were to happen to Jordan..."
"We could deal with that in a will, right? We wouldn't HAVE to be on the board."
"Look, Mare, let me consult with a few people and maybe we could talk out in your yard after dinner tonight, but I would STRONGLY suggest that at least you be a part of the board. No matter how smart he is, a twenty year old is still just a child. One or two bad decisions and - poof - a hundred million dollars down the drain. I've read about it happening before, mostly to lottery winners, but it can happen to your nephew, too."
"Alright, we'll discuss it. What time is good for you?"
"Seven?"
"Ok, Sue. See you at seven."
"Mare, for the ten thousandth time. It's always 'Susan.'"
"Ok. I'm sorry. I just think it's funny." Mary giggled at her lifelong friend.
Yeah, well, you wouldn't find it very funny if you were a lawyer named 'Sue.' See you tonight."
"Why are you walking behind us?" Robbie asked, looking behind her at her cousin. He seemed lost in thought as he walked an uncomfortable two or three steps behind them.
"Come on, Jordie," Frances encouraged. "Walk here, between us. There's almost no traffic on this road. We can all walk side by side."
Jordan moved forward and took his place between his cousins. Both of them wore dresses he had made. Both were from the same pattern, but with notable differences. Frances' was a pretty, soft grey with tiny white dots softening the look of the fabric. Her dress had elbow length sleeves and a six button collar that she left mostly open to display her lovely cleavage.
Robbie's dress fit the same as her sister's, but was a pale pink and had what appeared to be branches of blooming dogwood trees displayed across the surface. The narrow, brown branches and brilliant white blooms were pretty and playful on the knee length dress. Her sleeves were very short and her collar was 'T' shaped, giving her a more modest display.
Jordan had also sewn his own dress, but it was very different. Made of a green-and-white-checked cloth, it had a bib style top that was tailored with front and side darts to show off a young woman's developing bust, which, thanks to the bra Frances had provided, he now sported. Two inch straps went over his shoulders, hiding his bra straps. The skirt of the dress had a modest bell to it that was decorated with a six inch ruffle of the same material at its base. The dress rested a good three inches above his knees, giving him a very youthful look. Despite the short zipper in the rear of the dress' top, the front, center of the bodice was decorated with four, oversized, wooden buttons that, somehow, seemed to add an even more adorable look of youthful virginity to the wearer.
All three of them looked like they'd been plucked from a Vermont Trading Post catalog in their country style, homemade, but beautifully made, dresses.
"It just occurred to me," Frances grinned. "This is your first time out in the world in a dress. How does it feel?"
Jordan thought about it for the first time. "Fine I guess. I mean, it looks right on me, doesn't it?"
"It looks adorable on you, Jordie," France's giggled.
"Is that why you were walking behind us?" Robbie asked.
"What do you mean?" He asked.
"Well, I mean - were you hiding back there so no one would see you?"
He shook his head, "No. I was just thinking."
Frances took his right hand in her left, pulled it to her lips and she kissed it. "Do you want to talk about anything?"
He shook his head.
Robbie took hold of his left hand and repeated the soft kissing process that Frances had just performed. "We know what it's like, you know. Our dad has only been gone for a little while. I still expect to see him when I come down stairs in the morning. Our first mom died when we were little, too, and we miss her everyday, still. You can tell us how you feel, if you want."
The walked a few steps before Jordan finally said, "I'm really confused."
"Why, Jordie?" Frances asked.
As they walked forward, holding each other's hands at their slides, they all just looked forward at the slowly greening world around them. They walked and talked and listened.
"I don't know how to feel about any of this. I feel kind of... empty... about my parents. Not really sad. Kind of mad, I guess, but mostly... just empty."
"I get that," Robbie acknowledged. "Like what happens now, right? I felt that way when our first mom died. Abandoned, I think."
Jordan relayed his fears that he never really loved his parents, but Frances assured him that someday he'd realized that he loved them, just in his own way.
Then he repeated what he'd said the night before. "I don't want their money," he said with a great deal of force.
"Jordie," Frances tried to be subtle, "you have to take it. It's yours. If you don't want to spend it, then just leave it for your children. That much money could benefit your children, grandchildren, great grandchildren... heck, it could benefit your great
grandchildren's great grandchildren."
"I'll never have children," he said, matter of factly.
"Of course you're will," Robbie giggled. "Someday you'll meet the right girl or the right guy and you'll start a family. You'll see."
"No. I don't think so." He still only looked forward.
"Well, why not?" Robbie half laughed. "I mean, neither Franny or I are dating anyone, but we both assume we'll meet a nice guy someday and it'll all come together."
"That's right," Frances agreed, "and the same thing can happen to you."
Jordan shook his head. "No. I'm not gay, you know. I mean, when I... well... when I fantasize... it's about girls. I'm not attracted to men.
"Ok. Then find a nice girl." Franny squeezed his hand.
"What girl would want a guy who looks like me? Even before I started dressing the part, I still looked more like a girl than a guy. I just used to fight it, then."
"So, you're going to continue to dress as a woman? Forever?" Robbie was careful not to sound judgmental.
He shrugged. "Why not. I look better and... I know this makes me sound like a pervert, but... I really like it. I like it a lot more than dressing like a guy."
It occurred to Frances that they'd known Jordan for about a decade now and in that time he hadn't said half as many words to them as he had in the last couple of days. She felt closer to him than ever. "Why do you like it better?"
"Well... number one, I look right. I don't look like a little boy in men's clothes - or a little girl in boys clothes. Number two, I like how they feel. Not just that they're softer, but the bright colors and the flowers and things... they all make me feel... better."
"Those are good reasons, I guess," Robbie shrugged. "I mean, if you actually needed reasons, which you don't. I can wear pants if I chose, so you should be able to wear dresses if you want to."
"And makeup and earrings and anything else you want to wear," Frances agreed.
"And besides all that," Jordan said, then took a breath before continuing, "I feel more like you guys when I look pretty. Like I can be a part of your group."
"Jordie!" Frances sounded surprised, "We always asked you to join us before you were a girl... well, you know what mean. We always wanted you to be a part of our group."
"I know, but... I felt like an outsider. Now... I feel more... like you."
"And you like that?" Robbie smiled.
"Yeah," Jordan nodded.
As they passed an elementary school, abandoned for the time being due to the pandemic closures, they meandered into the playground area and each sat on a swing. The swayed a little, enjoying the spring air, but didn't try to build any momentum up.
"I never really thought about it until now," Robbie said, "but I think I could enjoy dating a guy who liked to look pretty and wear pretty clothes. That would actually be pretty cool."
When Jordan looked a bit uncomfortable at this topic, Robbie laughed nervously, "Oh, I didn't mean that we should date or anything, I just meant... it'd be pretty cool to have a guy who understood what it's like to want to be pretty and appreciated the feel of a soft nightie or a silk panty. I guess my point is, I bet there are other girls who feel the same way. Maybe you'll find one, someday."
"I'm not holding my breath," Jordan smiled, "but... that would be nice."
"So..." Robbie was being coy. "In the long run... what do think you'll do?"
"About what?" Jordan swayed from side to side.
"About being a girl."
"I'm not a girl."
"I know, but... are you always going to... present... as a girl?"
"Probably," Jordan shrugged.
"Then, will you... eventually... become one?"
"A girl? No. I told you, I'm not gay."
"Jordie," Frances laughed at that. "There are lots of girls who are attracted to girls, you know?"
"I know, but... what are you getting at?"
Robbie cleared her throat. "Jordie... right now, you're still small and feminine, but... at some point, that's probably going to change. You may not grow, but your features will start to get more... manly. If you want to stay... girlish... you might have to do something about that."
"Something like what?"
Robbie shrugged. "I don't know, Jordie. Something like... hormones... or blockers... or... breast implants... whatever... I don't know, but... you should think about it while you still look young."
Jordan thought about that for several minutes before asking, "Are they worth it?"
Robbie and Frances exchanged glances. Finally, Frances asked, "Are what worth it?"
"Boobs," he said, matter of factly.
The girls stayed in stunned silence for at least ten seconds before they both burst into laughter. "Well," Frances said between chortles, "I never really thought about it. Let me ask you this - Is your penis worth it?"
"That's not the same thing." Jordan found the question very odd. "A penis is comparable to a vagina. Essentially, we both have them. But breasts... breasts are something that only women have."
"No, no, no," Robbie pointed out. "Men have breasts."
"Wrong," Jordan said. "Men have nipples and so do women, but only women have breasts."
"What about fat men?" Robbie giggled.
"Those are fat deposits. Come on, just answer my question. Are breasts worth it?"
"Ok, look," Frances stood up and pushed her hair back. "When I was a little girl, more than anything, I wanted to look like a woman. So, that meant that I had to grow breasts. I knew that they'd come eventually, but it seemed to take forever. When they finally did come in, I felt... awkward and ugly and freakish for at least a couple of years, but then... one day... I looked in the mirror and... I was a woman. And I love it. So, yeah, to me... they're totally worth it."
When she looked at her cousin, he was looking at her breasts. She looked at her sister who was giggling.
"Do you like what you see?" Frances asked.
Jordan raised his eyes to meet his cousin's. "I guess they're fine, but I think they're a little big for my body."
Robbie burst into laughter while Frances feigned shock and insult. "FINE!? DID YOU JUST SAY FINE!?!?"
Jordan nodded, uncertain if Frances was upset or being funny.
She sighed and looked to her sister for support, but none was coming. "They're lovely, Jordie. They are perky and sexy and... and... arrgh... they're better than fine, ok?"
"I'm sorry," Jordan said, finally certain that he'd insulted his cousin by mistake.
Frances finally smiled and laughed. She bent and kissed Jordan's cheek. "It's fine, Jordie. I'm just teasing." She looked at Robbie. "So, Robbie... You're bigger than I am. Do you find that your breasts get in your way?"
Robbie cupped each breast in a hand and bounced them up and down. "Not at all. I think they're great. I never go anywhere without them."
Jordan looked from one woman to the other. "So... should I get some?"
Both girls smiled and shook their heads. "Come on," Frances chuckled, "let's go home. We can talk about this another time."
"There's nothing really complicated about setting up a family trust," Susan Lewis said, as they all sat around the large picnic table that sat beneath the huge elm tree in the side yard. "My concerns are regarding the size of this estate. We need to make sure that these funds are well protected. That will require several other
professionals - accountants, investment councilors, etcetera."
"Who do you recommend?" Mary asked, while the girls sat and listened and Jordan looked at a crack in the surface of the picnic table.
"Well," Susan continued, "I have a friend at Burnside and Whyte in Boston and I trust her, implicitly. Burnside and Whyte are one of the most respected firms in the country and they handle accounts similar in size to this one all the time. They have banking specialists, accountants, investment councilors, everything you'd need on staff. My recommendation would be that we start by setting up the trust immediately, transfer everything into Jordan's name, then, when you're comfortable with the state of the world, we can can work with them and, eventually, when you're comfortable, I'll step aside. How does that sound?"
Mary exhaled a worried breath. She looked at her stepdaughters, each of whom shrugged, then she looked at her nephew. "Jordie? What do you think?"
Jordan continued to stare at the crack.
"Jordie?"
"I don't want the money."
Mary looked at Susan and shook her head.
Susan looked down the table at the pretty, but sullen young person in the cute green and white checked dress. She took a second to pick her words, then said, "Look, Jordie... I know that we just met and that you’ve had an awful lot to take in in the last twenty four hours, but... this is not something you can just say ‘no’ to. The money is, in fact, already yours. All of this is just a formality. Once the money is in your name, you can do whatever you’d like with it."
Jordan offered no indication that he’d heard her.
Susan continued, "Give it away if you want, Jordan. Invest it if you want. Make a big pile of it and sleep on it if you want. Whatever you want to do is fine, but you need to step up right now and be a big girl. You need to be all grown up and take this first step."
Jordan raised his eyes and looked at a bud on the branch of a tree, but said nothing.
Susan looked at Mary. "Is she hearing me?" She asked, more out of confusion and concern than frustration.
Mary nodded, then looked at Jordan. "Jordie, please answer Mrs Lewis."
Jordan’s head didn’t move. "I’m tired." He stood and pulled his legs free of the bench as he turned for the house.
"Jordie," both girls tried to get his attention and both touched his arms, but he didn’t respond beyond saying, "I’m tired," again.
Susan looked at Mary, who held up both hands, gave out a frustrated grunt, then stood and hurried to get in front of her nephew.
When she saw his face, she was even more concerned than before. His eyes were focused in the ground and he seemed to be running on autopilot as he lumbered towards the house. "Jordie, please, don’t shut down on me. I can’t do this for you, baby. I need you to be a grownup right now."
He stopped, but didn’t say anything.
"Can you hear me, Jordie?"
He nodded.
Can you tell me what you’re thinking?"
He shrugged. "I’m not thinking anything. I’m just so tired."
Mary nodded. "Can you tell me what you’re feeling, then?"
It took a very long time for him to respond. "Auntie... I don’t want this. I don’t want to think about my parents. I don’t want to think about this money. I want... to start over. I want to be like Franny and Robbie. I want to be with you. I don’t like all of this change. I just want to be..." he stopped.
"What, baby? What do you want to be?"
His lip quivered and, slowly, he raised his gaze to meet hers. "I want to be happy, auntie. That’s all."
"Does being with me and the girls make you happy?"
He nodded.
"Then stay with us, Jordie. That won’t change. I promise. But... for now... you need to get things started with this money so that you can do whatever you want with it - get rid of it if you want to, but we need get the money into a safe place and away from that awful man who was here last night. Ok?"
"Ok," he nodded.
Marry hugged him, then began to guide him back to the table. "You should at least keep enough so you can pay for college and maybe grad school, though."
"I’m not going back to college." He said with great finality.
Mary nodded. "Well, maybe taking a year off is for the best."
"Not ever, auntie. I wasn’t happy there. I’m not going to ever live like that again."
"Ok, baby," she kissed his head and wanted to cry for him. The poor child had suffered so much more than she’d ever thought.
They sat again. "We’re ready, now," Mary said.
Susan nodded and passed the preliminary paperwork to the very frail looking child across from her. It didn’t seem possible that this was a twenty year old man. It looked like a broken little girl. "Jordan, I’ll work with you to make sure that you’re happy with how the money is used. You can help people, you know, Jordan. You can help people who are struggling. Help people with less opportunities than you - educate people. Whatever you want."
Jordan took the pen, then stopped. "Help people with less
opportunities than me? Educate people?"
"Of course," Susan smiled.
Jordan glanced at his cousins. "Can I help Robbie and Franny? Can I help to educate them?"
Susan looked at Mary, who said, "You don’t have to do that, Jordie. Their father took care of their college..."
"Yeah, but... can I, if I want to, give them money?"
"Well," Susan confirmed, "of course you can."
Jordan froze. "Let me think for a moment."
He stared into space for a moment, then nodded and said, "I’ll only sign this if I can split half of everything equally with my aunt and cousins. The rest I’ll use for projects – to help educate people, if that’s ok?"
"No, Jordie," Robbie said as Frances shook her head. "This is yours to do with as you want, but we don’t need..."
"Yes, you do. Since I got here, we’ve been struggling. If you guys had any savings, we wouldn’t have struggled to get by. You all need money and I want to split it with you. I want you to be rich. I want you to spend your summers on Martha’s Vineyard and be happy. I want you to help me give away my money other people. Please. I really can’t do this by myself. It’s too hard."
Mary shook her head. "That’s very generous, baby, but..."
Jordan put the pen down. "That’s my deal, auntie. Either we’re a family and we’re all in this together, or we’re not and I’m not signing anything."
"Jordie, of course we’re a family, but this is yours..."
"No, auntie, it’s not. I didn’t earn it. It’s not ‘mine.’ It’s either ‘ours’ or I’m not signing it."
Mary looked around and finally decided that it would be best to just sign the papers and move on to the next stage and she’d make sure that this got straightened out later. "Ok, Jordie. We’re all in this together."
"Mom!" Frances shouted loudly.
Mary waved her off, though. "We’ll make it right, later," she whispered.
Susan pulled the paperwork back, made a few notations, then pushed it back towards Jordan. "Ok. This will list all of you as board members, equal partners. Ok? We can talk to the people at Burnside and Whyte about setting up a charitable arm of the trust later. Is that agreeable?"
Jordan nodded and signed, then passed it along to the others who signed as well.
"Alright," Susan smiled. "I’ll file these tomorrow, notify Attorney Leary and I’ll let you know how we’ll proceed from there. Ok?" She stood.
Mary stood and went shook Susan’s hand, but then remembered the current circumstances and pulled her hand back. "Thank you, Susan. You’ve been very helpful."
"My pleasure, Mare. Roberta, Frances, it was lovely to see you, again."
"You, too," both girls waved, a bit dazed by the proceedings. Robbie was a bit tweaked by the use of her real name.
Susan then turned towards Jordan and sighed. "And you, Jordan. It was an experience meeting you, too."
Having heard many euphemisms about his odd personality through the years, Jordan was a bit hurt by the lawyer’s words. He just nodded.
"You’re a very special young lady, you know." Jordan looked up, surprised at praise after what he’d taken as an insult. "Faced with the prospect of getting a hundred million dollars, most people would just take the money and run. To hell with everyone else. But not you. You’re a very special girl, Jordie. Promise me something." She leaned forward and kissed the top of his head. "Don’t ever change."
"Ok," Jordan muttered, trying to get a handle on the situation.
"Ok," Susan smiled at him. Then she looked at Mary and said, "Walk me to my car?"
"Of course," Mary was also a bit confused by Susan’s words, but walked with her.
"That’s a very interesting girl you have there," Susan said.
"That’s an understatement," Mary chuckled. "But... you do realize..."
"That she’s not a girl? Yes, of course, I haven’t forgotten, but... she really is, Mary. She’s certainly not a man, and she’s not a woman. She is a child, emotionally, and that child is just as confused and struggling to understand things as any kid who lost her patents suddenly. She's not a grown man. She’s a stunned twelve year old. You can see it in her eyes. She’s trying to make sense of the loss of her parents and trying to understand the relationships she’s lost due to their departure."
"Yeah, well, that relationship turns out to be a much more complicated relationship than I could have ever guessed. You’re right, though, he is struggling. Hopefully, he’ll be able to think more clearly and make some rational decisions soon."
"Well, in my opinion, having you and the girls as equal partners in the trust is actually a very good decision. I know it makes you uncomfortable to be dragged into the finances, but, trust me, it is the right thing." She adjusted her mask. "Oh, these masks drive me nuts. Listen, I’ll be in touch in a day or two, but, as a friend, I’d like you to keep an open mind about a few things. One - If Jordie decides to make you all gifts of this money, that’s not a bad thing. You can accept it and not touch it and still sign it back to him later. So don’t panic over that. Two - Remember that Jordan’s looking to you for guidance, but he needs your love and protection more than your opinion right now. So try not to get frustrated. And Three - I think it might be a really good idea to start adjusting your pronouns. I don’t see a ‘he’ or a ‘him’ anywhere in this yard. I look over there and I all I see are three very pretty girls. Two are beautiful, intelligent coeds and one is an adorable, troubled young teenaged girl. I think that all three of you should get used to the fact that, whoever Jordan was, he is gone. Jordie is here to stay."
Mary looked across at the picnic table. Susan was right.
To Be Continued...
Quarantine: 5 - Struggles
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
Other Keywords:
Permission:
Author's Note: Thank you for all of your reviews and support! Please, please, please continue to comment - pro or con. I find it very helpful. ~Clara.
This version of Quarantine: 5 - Struggles 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
"You're going to love them," Mary said to Dr Green as she trimmed a little more of her hair. "He said to tell you that he should be done the day after tomorrow. Each dress is just amazing, Joan. I'm so impressed with his ability. He'd never sewn anything less than a month ago, now, you'd swear he'd been doing this his whole life."
Joan smiled. "That's wonderful, Mary, and I am very excited to see them, but can I ask you a question?"
"Of course," Mary smiled under her mask. "You can ask me anything. You know that."
Joan violated the rules of social distancing in order to obey the rules of friendship and took Mary's latex-gloved hair into her ungloved hand. "Mare, I can't tell you how sorry I was when I heard that Margaret and her husband had died. They really were heroes, Mare. I never could have done what they did. I truly am in awe of their dedication. I want you to know, before I ask my question, that I could not possibly respect her more or feel worse about her death."
Mary nodded and sniffled a little. "I know."
"Ok, so... having said that... why didn't she ever look into Jordan's stunted growth? I mean, I've never even examined the boy, but I don't think he's entered puberty - his skin is too soft, his cheeks are too plump and his voice is too high. Didn't any of these things bother her?"
Mary shrugged. "Honestly, Joan, I don't know how to answer that. Since Jordie came to stay with us, I have been horrified by how poorly my sister treated that child. I hate the fact that that boy can't even properly mourn his parents' death and I hate myself for not seeing it before. How could I have let him always be so distant and not have intervened?"
"Well, Mare, let's be honest - none of us would be willing to interfere in our sister of brother's private family affairs unless we saw injury. That's just normal. You know that. You can't beat yourself up for that."
Mary shrugged. "I don't know. But I will tell you something - I usually do the laundry and... I can tell you that he has entered puberty. I have found evidence of it in panties that he tried to hide."
"Well, boys masturbate, Mare."
"Actually, I don't think it's masturbation, I think it's an occasional wet dream, but... the evidence is there. Also, I did teach him how to shave his legs and pits and... it was kind of inevitable that I would catch a glimpse of his... bikini area. There is hair there, or at least there was."
"Ok," Joan thought about that, "he has the primary male features, but limited evidence of secondary. Interesting. Do think that he'd submit to an examination? I am concerned and I'd really like to help him if I can."
"Oh, Geez, Joan, I don't know. He's been through a lot and, with the pandemic and all..."
"I know, I know, but... What if I was to do the examination here. I can take blood samples safely. I'll wear a clean room suit the whole time... it would be safer than it would be in my office before any of this happened."
"I'd need to talk to him," Mary said. "I just don't know if he'd do it or not."
"Tell you what," Joan said, "don't say anything. I'll bring it up when I get my dresses from him. If he says no, then I'll drop it unless he becomes my patient sometime down the road, ok?"
Mary nodded. "Ok."
"This is Jim Leary, how can I help you?"
"Good morning, Mr Leary, my name is Susan Lewis and I am an attorney in Hardwick, Massachusetts. I have been engaged to be the representing attorney for the Alden estate. I am representing Jordan Alden. I'd like to get some specifics from you regarding the estate of his parents."
Leary cleared his throat. "Ahh, yes, Ms Lewis. I... Umm... I am afraid that I am not able to help you in this matter at this time."
"Really? Did I misunderstand? Didn't you pay a visit to the home of Jordan's Aunt Mary the evening before last?"
"I did, Ms Lewis, yes, but at that time, I was unaware that young MISTER Alden was not mentally sound."
"I beg your pardon?"
"Since becoming aware of his mental instability I have notified the courts that MISTER Alden is not competent to have access to this kind of wealth. Instead, I have requested that, in the interests of the estate, that I remain executor of the trust and that I provide MISTER Alden with a modest yearly allotment of approximately twenty five thousand dollars annually until such time as MISTER Alden passes on."
"Twenty five...? Forgive my French, Mr Leary, but just what the hell are you talking about. Jordan Alden has not been examined by a medical expert. The courts won't just give you the power to keep his inheritance..."
"That may be so, Ms Lewis, if it were not for the fact that I informed the court that when I visited Mr Alden at his Aunt's home, he presented himself not as a twenty one year old male, but as a ten year old female..."
"First of all, Mr Leary, Jordan may look young, but certainly not ten years old, and secondly, this is the year two thousand and twenty and many males present themselves as females and many females present as male. That is the new norm, Mr Leary, not a sign of instability. No court would..."
"And of course there was the extraordinary temper tantrum that I witnessed when his aunt demanded that he work with me. The young MAN is violent to the point of dangerousness and unstable to the point of endangering the welfare of the three women who share the house with him. Trust me, Ms Lewis, if you want to challenge me on this matter, that little princess will face much more than just the loss of his inheritance. He could lose his freedom. And I'd do that to that little shit just because of the way his aunt spoke to me."
"Listen, Mr Leary..."
"I don't think there's anything more to be said here, Ms Lewis."
"Well, I don't agree..."
"Goodbye, Ms Lewis. Please don't call again. See you in court." The call ended.
"Jordie, honey," Mary said, quietly, as she entered the sewing room. "Can I speak to you for a few minutes?" She was surprised to find Robbie sitting on the floor, playing with her Nintendo Switch. "Are you Jordie's helper?" She asked.
"Franny's been Skyping with her roommate from college for most of the morning. I was lonely, so I came to bother Jordie. He told me I could stay if I sat and stayed quiet." She smiled as she told her mother about Jordan's orders. "He's very focused on getting Dr Green's dresses done today." She giggled at that, looked at Jordan with affection and returned to her game.
"Look, auntie," Jordan pointed to a clothes rack, "they're all done except this one, and I just need to finish the zipper on this one. What do you think."
Mary pulled each dress out and gave each a quick inspection. "Jordie, they're just lovely. Dr Green will love them, I'm sure."
Jordan beamed a smile back at her. "I hope so."
Mary pulled a chair up to the work table. "Listen, baby... I need to talk to you. I just got off the phone with Susan Lewis and... there's a complication that we need to deal with regarding your parents' estate."
"Like what?"
"Well... remember that Mr Leary who was here the other night? Well... he's... well... he's contesting the will. Do you understand what that means?"
He nodded, thoughtfully. "Yes. It means that he doesn't want the money and everything else going to me, right?"
"That's right, baby."
He shrugged. "That's because I said I didn't want it, right? I guess I messed things up for you guys, huh? Sorry."
"No, Jordie. Mr Leary doesn't think..." she knew that this would hit him hard and hurt a lot, but he needed to know. "... he doesn't think that you're... capable... he thinks that... because of the way you look and," she sighed, "... well, because of your behavior, you know, when you stormed out of the kitchen... he's... petitioning the court to keep control of the money."
Jordan stopped and looked at his work table and he thought for a few moments. "Because... I'm weird, right?"
""No," Mary insisted, "no, now, baby, no one is saying that..."
"Because I'm not 'normal,' then, right? Because I don't feel things the same way as other people? That's why they think I'm weird, right? Or is it because I don't look normal?"
"You look perfect, Jordie!" Robbie said, from the floor.
"But I don't look like a guy, do I? I don't look like any other guy you know, do I? I look like this. Like... what? A woman? A girl? A child?"
"You look like Jordie," Robbie moved to her knees and grasped his hand. "I look like Robbie and mom looks like mom. Everyone looks different, Jordie."
"Yeah, but you're a girl and you look like a girl. I'm a guy and I look like a girl, too. That's not normal. That's weird."
"Alright, alright," Mary held up her hands to calm things, "That's enough. Jordie, the problem is not how you look or chose to live, or even your outburst the other night. The problem is that Mr Leary was hoping that we'd just sign his papers and accept the inheritance and allow him to remain in charge of the estate without question. That way he could go right along administering that huge estate and making money from it. Now, because I threw him out..."
"Yeah, you did," Robbie said, still impressed by Franny's telling of the story and her saying that her stepmother had actually told the lawyer to 'get the fuck out of her house.'
Mary shot Robbie a 'that's not helping' look. "And now he's trying to keep you from getting the money you deserve. That's all it is, Jordie. It's a petty man trying to exact some vengeance for the fact that a woman spoke up to him and a gentle, sensitive boy, who is probably much smarter than he is, doesn't fit his definition of being a man. That doesn't make you weird, Jordie. That makes you the amazing kid that you are. Do you understand me?"
He looked from his aunt to his cousin, then nodded. "Yes. I understand, but I'm sorry."
"Sorry for what?" Mary asked.
Jordan sighed. "I'm sorry... because... even though I don't want to be rich, I wanted you guys to be, but... I guess I can't give you anything because I'm not getting the money."
"Ok. First," Mary said forcefully, "you don't owe any of us a cent, understood. Second, there is no way on heaven or earth that that arrogant, misogynistic son-of-a-bitch is making a penny of profit off of my sister's estate. You will get everything penny you have coming to you, I promise you that. Susan has set up a hearing using Zoom for next Wednesday, and we need to be ready because I want Susan to shove her foot so far up that piece of crap's ass that when he smiles you'll see the color of her toenail polish on his teeth."
"Whoa, mom!" Robbie giggled, impressed, "when did you become a badass?"
"The moment that someone tried to mess with my family and then tried to make one of my own feel 'less than' someone else. I'm a quiet, polite woman, Roberta, but I'm telling you this, I will protect the three of you from now until the end of the world and if a scumbag like that jackass wants to fight with me, I will make sure that he leaves the courthouse with his ass aching and dragging behind him."
"Jordan," Dr Green gushed, "I just love everyone of these dresses. You have outdone yourself."
It was raining, so Mary had suggested that they don masks and meet in meet in the barn. There was an office just off the salon that Mary's husband had built for himself, but never had the opportunity to use. Dr Green could change in there, then come into the salon to use the mirrors. Because of Dr Green's work in a hospital that treated COVID- 19, Mary insisted that she and Jordan remain masked and at least ten feet away from the doctor. She also opened the windows and turned on small fans to keep the air moving towards the doctor at all times.
"I'm glad you like them," Jordan smiled, a look of pride visible even through the flowered, opaque mask.
"I think I like this one the best," Joan Green fussed with the dress and examined it in the mirrors. "I'm going to wear this one home, I think. God, I feel like a queen in this. It's so soft and it fits so perfectLy."
"I told you," Mary smiled. "My Jordie is a genius."
Joan sat down in the shampoo station seat, smoothing the skirt of the dress under her as she sat, she picked up her pocket book and removed her wallet, putting three one-hundred dollar bills on the counter. "Three hundred dollars plus the two hundred I gave you before. Correct?"
"Yes, thank you," Jordan nodded.
Joan appeared to be thinking for a moment, then took another three one-hundred dollar bills from her wallet and held them in front of her. "How would you like to make an additional three hundred dollars, Jordie?"
Jordan glanced at his aunt, then looked back towards the doctor. "Do you want three more dresses?"
Joan smiled. "No, Jordie. I want to examine you."
He looked from on adult to the other. "What? Why?"
"Now, don't get all wound up, Jordie," the doctor said, gently. "It's just that... I knew your mother when we were young and I am... surprised, I guess... that she, well, frankly, that no one ever looked into why you are... underdeveloped, I guess is the right word. I'd really like to see if I can help you and... to be honest... the sooner we get started with investigation your condition, the better our chances of coming up with a course of treatment."
"Treatment for what?"
"Well, Jordan, I believe that is what we need to find out."
"Do I look sick to you?" He was getting a bit anxious.
"Not sick, per se, Jordie, but... I am sure that you are aware that you're not as well developed as most males your age, right?"
"So what? That doesn't matter any more."
"What do you mean, any more?"
"Well, I'm happy, now. I like how I look, now. I don't need to grow any more."
"Ok," Joan regrouped and tried another approach, "but if your body isn't producing the right hormones, you could be headed for some pretty big health problems and I'd like to be sure that we avoid any chance of that."
Jordan blinked many times and stared at the floor as he thought.
"I'll make sure that everything is perfectly safe, Jordie. We'll do the exam right here. You'll wear a mask and I will wear a cleansuit... you know... a white suit made Tyvek? One that I can just throw away after we're done."
He still looked at the floor, blinking.
"What do you say, Jordie?"
Finally, his head snapped upright and he looked towards the doctor, not quite making eye contact. "If I do this for you..."
He paused, thinking for quite a long time.
"...can you help me with something?"
"I will if I can, Jordie. What exactly would like help with?"
He looked at Mary and thought for a moment before blurting out, "I'd like to get breast implants."
Mary breathed as steadily as she could, covering the shock of what she'd just heard.
"Well..." Joan considered this. "That is a bit complicated, Jordie. If a man wants to become a woman, there are a lot of things to consider. I mean... his mental health, his physical health, his long term goals all need to be considered."
"I don't want to become a woman, though."
"But... you just asked me..."
"For breast implants. I don't want to be a woman, I just want breasts."
Now, it was Joan's turn to blink. "Well, let me just ask you this, Jordie - Why?"
"Because I want them. I want to look right. Breasts will make my clothes hang right. So, I want to get them."
"But... why not wear a padded bra, Jordie, like you are now?"
He shrugged. "I have my own reasons. Can you help me?"
Joan shrugged, "Well, all I can promise is that I will help you find the right doctors who can help you, Jordie. I can't just give you implants. I'm not a plastic surgeon. Is that a deal?"
He thought for a moment or two then nodded. "Ok. When do you want to do the examination?"
"How about now?" Joan asked, surprising the boy. "I have everything I need in my car."
"Ok," he stood and straightened his dress. "Then, when can I expect to have implants?"
"I don't know the answer to that, Jordan. I can only help you to find the right people to guide you through the process."
"Ok." He nodded. "Auntie, can you unzip me?"
"Come sit on the ottoman," Frances tapped the furniture piece, "and let me braid your hair."
Jordan sat on the ottoman and looked straight ahead at the television, which was showing a Meg Ryan movie that Robbie had chosen for the evening. Simple plot - Meg Ryan meets and hates Kevin Klein, Kevin Klein helps Meg Ryan to win back her straying husband, in process, they fall in love. Pretty much the same as several other Meg Ryan movies Jordan had seen since his arrival. Just swap Kevin Klein for Tom Hanks or Hugh Jackman and the plot remains the same.
Today, just after Jordan's physical exam, a package addressed to Mary had arrived from Amazon.com. She opened it and happily presented new nightgowns to everyone. "They're lightweight for the warmer weather," she'd announced as she handed each of them a nearly identical garment, except for the size and color. The knee length nighties were made of polyester and meant to feel like silk. Each had comfortably wide straps going over the shoulders, a box shaped neck-line that showed a little cleavage on the women, and a splash of lace and delicate netting along the bust-line. Franny's was a deep blue, Mary's sea green, Robbie's a dusty lavender and Jordan's a vivid red that Franny called 'fuchsia.' All of the gowns hung loosely from the women's shoulders and breasts. Jordan's hung from his shoulders and the modest breasts created by his padded bra, but, even though Mary had chosen an extra-small for him, the petite garment still fell just past his knees, instead of above.
The length didn't matter, though. The comparison that kept leaping into his head was the difference in their natural breasts and his artificial ones. He didn't mind wearing a bra to bed, in fact he hardly noticed that he was wearing it at all at this point, but the three women all showed just a trace of nipple pushing through their bodice. He'd like that for himself, someday.
Mary looked at her eldest stepdaughter as she braided Jordan's hair and couldn't help thinking how tiny, frail, weak, vulnerable, childlike he looked. Like her stepdaughters' little sister waiting and wanting to become a woman, just like them. It prompted a warm smile to spread on her face. If only she'd taken Jordan in earlier. What would his life be like, now?
"Did Dr Green say anything about your health, today?" Robbie asked, still focused on the movie, but not needing to catch every word, since she'd seen the film at least twenty five time before.
"No," Jordan said, keeping his head very still so Frances could work. "She just said I was too little for my age and that I needed to have my hormone levels tested."
"Huh, no kidding," Robbie continued. "Wouldn't it be funny if the tests showed that you really are a girl?"
Mary was shocked at the casual way Robbie had just thrown this out. Of course Jordan was going to go crazy and scream at this suggestion.
But the strangest thing happened.
He didn't.
"I don't think that's going to happen," he said, just as casually. "I mean, if I had female organs I'd know it by now. I mean, obviously I don't have a vagina and if I had ovaries or anything, someone would have seen them by now. No. I think I'm just a small guy."
"Who has cute, braided pigtails," Frances giggled as she threw her arms around his belly and leaned back, pulling him with her so that she slouched against the back of the chair and he laid back with his back on her abdomen and the back of his head on her breasts.
The thought of a sweet little sister went through Mary's brain again. She decided to let the girls in on Jordan's revelation from this morning.
"You know, Jordan is thinking about getting breast implants." She said, cautiously.
Robbie turned from the TV, smiled at Jordie, then looked at Mary and smiled. "Yeah, we know. He told us the other day."
"Oh, really?" Mary was very surprised. "I guess I'm the last to find out."
"I guess," Robbie shrugged. "We didn't think it was a big deal or anything."
Mary wanted to say that it was, in fact, a very big deal, but she looked at the way the girls were remaining relaxed, open and accepting of what was, to her, a very bizarre situation, and she decided to just go with the flow for the time being.
She looked at her high-strung, stressed out nephew and saw a relaxed, content young lady, laying comfortably on someone she obviously loved and trusted. This was more than she could have ever expected would happen and, all in all, that was good.
"It wouldn't be so bad, though, would it?" Franny asked, running her hands absentmindedly along Jordan's braids.
"What wouldn't?" Jordan asked, equally unconcerned.
"If you found out you were really I girl. I mean, I'm a girl and I love it." Then she reached out to her sister saying, "Robbie, hand me those two blue ribbons on the table beside you." Robbie complied.
As Frances tied first one, then another baby blue bow over the hair ties she'd used to secure the ends of Jordan's braids, he shrugged and said, "I don't know. I like looking like a girl, but I don't know if I really want to be one - down there, I mean. Besides, like I told you, I'd rather have a night with Gal Gadot than Chris Pratt."
That made Robbie giggle.
Mary was astounded at the casualness of the conversation. It was just 'girl talk,' pure and simple. Just a couple of weeks ago, Jordan had been unable to accept even a passing hug or a peck on the cheek from his cousins. Now, look at him. He was relaxed and engaged, sprawled in the loving warmth of Frances' sisterly love. Whatever Jordan was - a boy, a girl, a man, a woman, something in between - he was, for the first time in his life, relaxed and at home in his own skin. He knew he was safe with them and he knew that he was loved. Mary made a vow right then and there that she'd be sure that Jordan never again doubted that safety and love was surrounding him forever - and if that meant that she had to become a vicious bitch in order to keep that jackass Leary at bay, then so be it.
"Ready?" Mary asked Jordan. He was standing in his room, looking at himself in the mirror.
"I think so," he shrugged. "Is this dress ok?" He was wearing a dress he'd sewn specifically to wear to his court hearing today. It was made from a complicated plaid material with larger blue and white squares combined with thin red and black lines. It was an older pattern that, nowadays, was reminiscent of a private school girl's uniform. The collar was a wide, plain white affair that calmed the pattern near his face. The very short sleeves ended in the same, plain, white material used as a delicate cuff.
His makeup was fresh and youthful, with soft pink lipstick and just a touch of gray and tan on his eyes. Plucked eyebrows, thick, straight bangs, straightened hair flowing down his back and small, gold rings in his ears.
In short - he looked... precious.
"You look lovely, Jordie. They're only going to see your head and shoulders, though, so don't worry."
He nodded. "I just want to look nice."
"You do, baby. Let's go down stairs. We'll use two computers so that we're both on screen, ok? Susan and Joan will be on with us, so they'll do most of the talking. Let them answer everything unless Susan specifically tells you to talk. Alright?"
He nodded. "But... why is Dr Green going to be there?"
"In case there are any questions about your health or mental state."
He nodded.
"Above all, baby... control your temper, ok?"
He nodded again. "Ok. I promise."
When they got to the dining room, Robbie and Frances were already there. Each had set up a MacBook, one on each side of the large tables opposite each other,
"Everything's ready to go, mom," Frances said, obviously nervous about the upcoming proceedings. "I'll sit beside you and I'll stay on the phone with Ms Lewis through the whole thing. If she needs to have you say anything, she'll shut off her video and tell me what to tell you. Just remember to keep your 'mute' on unless you want to say something to the judge.
Mary nodded. "Ok."
"I'll be on the line with Dr Green the same way," Robbie confirmed. Then she looked at Jordan, who looked very scared. She hugged him tightly and said, "I'll be right next to you, Jordie. You'll do great, I promise."
"You guys had better get ready," Frances said with a bit of urgency. "It's ten fifty eight and the hearing starts at eleven."
Everyone sat, Mary on one side with Frances, Jordan on the other with Robbie.
"How do I do this, now?" Mary asked. "I've never done this before."
"I'll click the link and you'll ready to start. Adjust the camera before you join the meeting, then click 'join' and you'll be in the 'waiting room' until the judge lets you in."
Mary followed the directs just as both France and Robbie's phones both rang. The girls answered and confirmed that they would stay on the line with their respective expert.
"Why isn't anything happening." Mary asked, looking at the unchanging screen.
"Just wait," Frances said with calm experience. "He'll let you in when he's ready. Just make sure to use your 'unmute' button when you want to talk."
They sat and waited.
Nothing changed.
"Ask Susan if everything is ok," Mary said, the concern evident in her voice.
"Hi," Frances spoke into the phone. "Mom is just worried because it's taking so long to get in." She listened and nodded. "Ms Lewis says to just be patient. The judge will start when he's ready."
By eleven thirteen, Mary was ready to burst. She was about to have Frances check in with Susan again, when suddenly, the screen flickered to life and the meeting opened up. In the Brady Bunch style grid, Mary could see a very well put together woman with no name under her picture, an older woman with the words 'Court Recorder' under her picture, Mr Leary with his name, Dr Green, Susan Lewis, Jordan and herself. She was about to ask Frances why there was no judge when the well put together woman said, "Good morning, everyone. My name is Judge Amanda Lang. When addressing me, please do so as 'your honor' and if you are not an attorney, please only speak if I request you to do so. Thank you. Today we are meeting in an online hearing to determine the competency of Mr Jordan Alden relative to the distribution of the estate of Mr Alden's parents' estate. Is Mr Alden present today?"
Jordan hit the 'unmute' button and said, "Yes, your honor."
The judge looked more closely at her screen. "Mr Jordan, why does your screen indicate that your name is 'Roberta?' If you are transitioning and have not yet had your name changed legally, I must refer to you as Jordan Alden."
"I am not transitioning, your honor. My name is Jordan. I'm using my sister's computer, your honor. Her name is Roberts."
Mary, Frances and Robbie all gave each other shocked glances when Jordan said that Robbie was his 'sister' instead of his 'cousin,' but he made no attempt to correct himself, so they didn't say anything.
"I see," the judge made a note. "Just so I am clear, Jordan, you are a twenty one year old male who is presenting as a female, correct?"
"Yes, your honor."
"And should I use male of female pronouns, Jordan?"
"Which ever you prefer, your honor. I will not be offended by either."
The judge nodded. "If I might impose for a moment, Jordan, would you mind standing back from the computer for a moment so I can see more of you?"
"Your honor," Susan Lewis broke in, "May I ask why?"
"Because, Ms Lewis, Jordan's sexual presentation is mentioned in the papers filed by Mr Leary. I would like to know what he was
describing."
"I understand, your honor, but how a person chooses to dress is in no way pertinent to the case."
"I disagree, Ms Lewis. I need to see the situation, so, Jordan, please stand and move back so that I can see you better."
Susan muted her Zoom feed and spoke into the phone. "Tell him to do it."
"She says to do it," Frances said.
Jordan stood and moved back towards the living room.
"Please move that chair and lower the screen a bit." The judge instructed.
Without Jordan moving, the chair back left the frame and screen lowered to better frame him.
"Who is moving your computer, Jordan?" The judge asked.
"That's Robbie."
Suddenly, Robbie's face filled the screen. "Hi. I'm Roberta."
The judge smiled. "Hello, Roberta. Thank you for your help."
"No problem," Robbie smiled and moved out of the way.
The judge looked at the person on the screen. This was extraordinary. Nothing about this person looked male - or twenty one. Even the choice of style was more juvenile than she expected. She wrote a few notes and said, "Thank you, Jordan. You may sit, now."
"Now," the judge looked at her papers, "the paperwork I have here indicates that you are an only child. Is that true?"
"I was, your honor."
"So, Roberta is not your sister, then."
"She's like my sister, your honor. So is Franny."
The judge looked at the paperwork for a moment. "I see... Frances and Roberta... these are your cousins, yes?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Alright... now, Jordan, I understand that you may consider these women to be your sisters, but for the sake of today's hearing, we must adhere to the letter of the law. So... please refer to them as your cousins. Do you understand?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Very good. Let's begin. Mr Leary, please state your case."
"Thank you, your honor," and for the next ten minutes, Leary laid out an in depth history of the Alden family accounts, frequently taking time to point out that Jordan's parents had never made him aware of any of their wealth and that, in and of itself, was reason to believe that they didn't think that Jordan was capable of understanding how to deal with the fortune they had accumulated.
Susan Lewis made a few objections along the way, but for the most part just took notes and said a few encouraging words through the phone for Frances to forward to the others.
Finally, Leary spoke about the evening he'd visited Mary's house. "Honestly, your honor, I'd never seen anything like it before. When that woman told me that that eight or ten year old girl standing in the doorway was Jordan Alden, well, you could have knocked me over with a feather. I honestly couldn't believe it. A grown man dressed like a little girl. And he was playing the part to the hilt, too, your honor. Sulking. Refusing to acknowledge the death of his parents. Storming out in a temper tantrum. It was quite a sight. I don't know what is going on in that house, your honor, but it seemed to me that the whole family was indulging in some sort of bizarre fantasy game..."
Four times during this last section of testimony, Susan had raised an objection, but the judging held up her hand each time, indicating that Susan should wait. Finally she'd had enough and very loudly shouted at her screen, "Your honor, I object strenuously to this testimony. Mr Leary's subjective, biased, and might I say, grossly outdated opinions are slanderous to my client and her family. I do not understand why you have allowed him to go on for so long."
Unfazed, the judge looked at the screen and said, "That will do, Mr Leary. Ms Lewis, if you will allow me, I would like to move on by asking you and yours client - or clients, as I assume that you also represent the extended family - some questions before you address Mr Leary's remarks. Is that amiable to you?"
Susan was surprised by the change of procedures, but agreed, nonetheless, with the stipulation that, should the judge not ask questions that Susan felt pertinent, that she would have the opportunity to ask those later.
"To begin with, Mr Leary, on the evening that you first met Miss Alden at the home she is currently sharing with her aunt, did she present herself in the same manner as she is presenting herself today?"
Leary thought for a moment, then said, "Yes, your honor, I'd say that she... HE is dressed in the same style, although HE was dressed more casually that evening."
"How so?"
"Oh... I don't know.... I guess HIS dress was the kind of a dress that a girl wears around the house or something like that. Today HE is dressed for court, of course, but HE appears to be wearing a more dressed up outfit today."
"Anything else?"
"Well... I'm not sure if HE was wearing makeup that evening or not, as HE certainly is now. I am not an expert on these kinds of things, your honor, but, that is my opinion."
The judge nodded. "Looking at Miss Alden's aunt on the screen, Mr Leary, approximately how old do you think she is?"
"I beg your pardon, your honor?" Leary was shocked by the question.
"Just approximately, Mr Leary. Say, within a five year age range."
"Well... if I have to... I'd say..." he exhaled as he thought, "between forty five and fifty."
"If you don't mind, ma'am," the judge said to Mary, "please tell us your age."
"I am forty six," Mary said, nervously.
"And we saw Cousin Roberta earlier. Are you still there, Roberta?"
Robbie stuck her head into frame. "I'm here, yes."
"How old would you say Roberta is, Mr Leary?"
"Your honor, I don't see..."
"Indulge me, Mr Leary. How old is Roberta."
He shook his head and sighed. "I don't know, your honor. Nineteen? Twenty?"
"How old are you, Roberta?"
"I'm nineteen, your honor." Robbie was as confused as anyone else.
"So, Mr Leary, it is obvious that you are capable of determining the ages of the people with whom you are speaking. Now, tell me, on what planet would someone who looks like Miss Alden be mistaken for an eight year old?"
"I believe I said ten, your honor."
"You said 'eight or ten,' Mr Leary."
"Well, perhaps I exaggerated, your honor, but MISTER Alden..."
"For the remainder of this hearing, Mr Leary, please refer to Miss Alden as 'Miss.' I know that she said that pronouns were not an issue for her, but I see a charming, young teenaged girl and it I would prefer that we refer to HER appropriately."
The ground was shifting under Leary and he was getting angry. Friggin' female judge! If the judge was a man he'd see how stupid this whole thing was. Have to stay focused on the prize, though. Call the faggot 'she' if the judge wants, but don't lose control of that money.
"Yes, your honor."
"Thank you, Mr Leary, now, Ms Lewis, according to your paperwork, Miss Alden is not a trans woman, nor does she consider herself a crossdresser, however you stated that there were recent medical findings that may explain her appearance?"
"Yes, your honor," Susan was feeling more confident about things, now. "For an explanation of those issues, I'll turn things over to Dr Joan Green. "Dr Green, could you explain?"
"Certainly," Joan pulled an iPad in front of her and began. "Your honor, Miss Alden has only been my patient for approximately ten days, but in that time, we have found some abnormalities in her system that are... well, concerning."
She cleared her throat and continued, "Having done some pretty extensive blood work, we have found that Jordan has several comorbidities that have combined to create the prepubescent appearance she presents. The primary issue is a 'Growth Hormone Deficiency' which appears to have appeared in her system with the start of her male puberty. Had it been present in her system as a child, then the result would most certainly have been some form of dwarfism, but since her body had already developed to the size that she is today, the deficiency instead inhibited any further growth."
"Further, even though Miss Alden had begun male puberty, she has very low testosterone and sperm levels. As I am sure you are aware, both men and women have testosterone and estrogen in their systems, Jordan's body produces very little testosterone and, therefore has developed very few secondary male characteristics. She has removed her body hair, your honor, but prior to that, she had little to no facial hair and very little body hair."
"Are you saying that Miss Alden's body thinks she is a female?"
"Not exactly, your honor. In fact, her body is acting as if Miss Alden is still a child about to enter purity. I know that seems
contradictory to the fact that I stated that she did, in fact, begin her male puberty, but it seems as if the onset of the 'Growth Hormone Deficiency' somehow staunched the progress of her development - physically, that is. Mentally, this has had no impact."
The judge nodded and asked, "Ultimately, how do you plan to treat Miss Alden?"
"It is still too early to make that decision, your honor. There is nothing WRONG with her so treatment needs to have an desired outcome. Since these are very recent discoveries for all of us, we have not determined how to proceed, yet."
"May I ask, Dr Green," the judge continued, "given the stature and accomplishments of both of the Doctors Alden, how is it possible that none of this was ever discovered before?"
"I cannot say, your honor. I have wondered the same thing myself."
"And had these conditions been diagnosed and treated at the time of Miss Alden's brief pubescence, what would the outcome have been?"
"I have to assume that, had Jordan received artificial growth hormones and his testosterone had been kick started through rather ordinary hormonal therapy, he would have grown to an average sized male with all of the secondary male attributes we could expect him to have developed."
Clearly disturbed by the doctor's testimony, the judge scribbled some notes and shook her head. "And how does all of this impact Miss Alden's intellectual and emotional state.
"Well," Dr Green let out a small chuckle, "intellectually, Jordan has the highest IQ of anyone I've ever meet. He is a member of MENSA and his IQ has been determined to be 167. He was the valedictorian of his high school graduating class two years ago and had his choice of colleges"
She let the judge digest that before continuing. "Jordan does have some developmental issues that we have yet completely understand. In meeting with Jordan and speaking to his Aunt Mary, it is clear that some of his behavior is Aspergic, although he has never been diagnosed with the syndrome. I do expect that, with further testing, we will find that Jordan is somewhere on the spectrum, though."
"And," the judge asked, "if it is determined that Jordan has Asperger's, what would the treatment be?"
"At his age, mostly just helping him to develop coping mechanisms to deal with his emotions, social interactions and anxieties, your honor."
The judge referenced her notes. "On the evening of their meeting, Mr Leary described Miss Alden's behavior as 'shut down' followed by a 'temper tantrum.' Are these descriptions correct?"
"If I may answer that, your honor," Mary interjected. "Yes, Jordan has trouble with a lot of social interactions and he can get overwhelmed emotionally, however... that evening, I was also overwhelmed. Mr Leary had just knocked on my door and told Jordan that his parents had died. I have none of the issues that Jordan suffers from and my relationship with my sister was nowhere near as complicated as Jordan's was. What would have been 'normal' behavior under those circumstances, your honor? I admit that I lost my temper at Mr Leary as well, that evening. His refusal to back off and give me and my family some time to think pushed me over the edge and I lost my temper. To be very honest, your honor, Mr Leary was a very difficult person to deal with and under the circumstances, his lack of patience was very
irritating."
"Your honor, if I may interject..." Leary said.
"No, Mr Leary," the judge interrupted. "I allowed you to speak without allowing Ms Lewis to interfere. Now it is their turn."
"Yes, your honor," he sulked.
"Ms Lewis," the judge continued, "if this estate were to be granted to Miss Alden, what are your plans for managing the funds."
"Well, your honor, I have spoken to colleagues at the law firm of Burnside and Whyte. I felt that they could better guide Jordan through the processes of dealing with this kind of wealth."
"And how long have you known Miss Alden, Ms Lewis?"
"Well, your honor, that's a complicated question. Both Dr Green and I knew Jordan as a child when he spent a good deal of time with his Aunt Mary in our town. See, Jordan's mother and father moved from Hardwick to Winchester, which, as I am sure you are aware, is quite a distance from here, so we saw much less of Jordan, after that."
The judge chuckled. "I regret, Ms Lewis, that I have no idea where Hardwick is. I do know that Winchester is not too far from here, near Boston, but I assume that Hardwick is somewhere out in the Berkshires, correct?"
"Not quite that far, your honor. It's in west-central Massachusetts. Between Barre and Ware."
"None if that helps me, Ms Lewis, but please continue."
"Yes, your honor. Well, when Mary married her husband Bob and she suddenly had her own nearly-teen-aged children to raise, we saw a even less of Jordan. I'd heard that she'd come back to live with Mary for the quarantine, but I only reconnected to her last week."
"Aunt Mary," the judge said, "May I ask you to answer a few questions for me?"
"Yes, of course." Mary was very nervous about saying anything that may mess things up for Jordan.
"First, Mary, what is the highest level of education you have achieved."
Confused by being asked this, Mary shook her head for a moment and said, "Well, your honor, I have a masters degree in social work from the University of Massachusetts."
"So, you're a social worker?"
"No, your honor. I was. I ran an ombudsman program for nursing home patients in this part of the state for over a decade, but when I got married and I suddenly had young girls to look after, that job just did not offer me the opportunity to be a good mom. So, I went back to school, became a hair dresser and I run a salon out of the barn on my property."
"I see," the judge took notes. "Any regrets about that change of careers?"
"Never a one, your honor. It was exactly the right decision."
The judge scribbled some more. "I need you to be very honest with me, Mary. Do you trust the opinions of Dr Green and Ms Lewis?"
"Well, yes, your honor. I have known them both since we were in kindergarten together and I trust them implicitly. Why?"
"Because, should I rule in Jordan's favor, I think it would be an excellent idea for Dr Green and Ms Lewis to be on the board of director's of your niece's family, trust. I know that I have only just meet you all, but I have done my research and they seem like very competent women who would not take advantage of Jordan, but would watch out for her best interests. Am I correct, ladies?"
They both answered in the affirmative.
"Ok, unless you need to add anything, Ms Lewis, I am ready to render my decision."
"I think you've done my job for me, your honor. Thank you."
The judge smirked, but Leary piped up, "Your honor, I must protest! Burnside and Whyte is an excellent firm, of course, but my firm is much more familiar with this estate and..."
"Mr Leary," the judge interrupted. "Since this hearing began, you have been nothing but insulting to Miss Alden and rude and condescending to me and everyone on Miss Alden's teem. I believe that you have said all that I need to hear."
"Yes, your honor." This wasn't good. If he lost this one hundred million dollar account, he'd certainly lose his partnership - maybe even his job.
"So," the judge's face revealed relief at having made a clear decision, "Ms Green, please contact your friends at Burnside and Whyte and have them contact my office. We will work with you to transfer the estate in its entirety over to a new Alden Family Trust with Jordan Alden being the sole heir of the estate. That is my decision."
"Thank you, your honor," Susan breathed easily for the first time in hours.
Mary and Dr Green thanked her as well, while Mr Leary tried to keep his case alive, but the judge ignored him.
One voice caught her ear, though, "Your honor? Your honor?"
"Yes, Miss Alden?" The judge asked.
"Your honor..." he wanted to sound adult and intelligent, so he paused before speaking. "See... I know that my parents were great doctors and all, and I know that they gave their lives for others..." he took a breath, "... and I know that they worked hard to have all of this money to leave to me, but... I want to share it."
"With whom?" The judge asked.
"With Aunt Mary, and Robbie, and Franny and... I want to help people with it, too. Can I do that?"
The judge smiled. "Yes, of course you can, Miss Alden. I must say, I find you to be a very interesting young lady, Miss Alden. Generous, intelligent, complicated... you intrigue me. I would very much like to get to know you better, if you wouldn't mind. Perhaps, between those very competent woman on your team and me, we might be able to help you plan your future."
Jordan smiled at the compliments. No one ever said anything like that before. "I'd like that your honor."
She nodded. "I'll be in touch." The Zoom meeting ended.
Jordan and Mary exited the meeting and Mary thanked both Susan and Joan for their help with promises to talk to each of them later that day. Then she sat back, ran her hands through her hair and exhaled a lot of stress out in a noisy whoosh of air. "I guess that went well," she said to Frances, beside her.
"I guess, so. I mean, Jordie's getting everything and Leary is out of the picture."
"Are you ok, Jordie?" Mary asked.
"I guess. I'm just thinking about what Dr Green said. I'm still not entirely sure what it all means."
"I know, honey, neither do I, but we'll be meeting with her on Thursday and she'll clarify everything for us."
He nodded, then noticed that Roberta was looking at him with a huge, cat-that-ate-the-canary smile on her face. When she knew she had his attention, she giggled.
"What?" Jordan asked, confused.
"Yooou called me your siiister" she sang. "Thaaat means you looove me!" It was a sing-song-teasing-childish tune that children had used for generations to tease their siblings.
"Shut up," Jordie turned red and looked down so his smile wouldn't be seen. "I did not."
"Yes, you did," Franny giggled at his discomfort. "You called us both your sisters."
Jordan rubbed his forehead with his hand to hide his embarrassed smile. "No, I didn't."
Yooou called me your siiister" Robbie continued to chant. "Thaaat means you looove me!
Yooou called me your siiister. Thaaat means you looove me!" She rose just enough to move in closer and start to slide her hands around his waist. "Yooou called me your siiister. Thaaat means you looove me!" She began to tickle his sides.
Seeing her sister's plan to tickle Jordan into hysterics, Frances stood and hurried around the table to Jordan's exposed side and joined in the attack. "Yooou called me your siiister. Thaaat means you looove me! Yooou called me your siiister. Thaaat means you looove me!"
Suddenly, all three of them fell to the kitchen floor, Jordan being tickled mercilessly while they all laughed uncontrollably.
Mary smiled and shook her head. "Good God," she muttered with a smile. "Sometimes, living with you three is like living with a litter of golden retriever puppies."
It had been twelve days since the hearing and Jordan had heard a lot more about how to handle money than he'd ever wanted to know. He had vague plans to offer scholarships or business opportunities for underprivileged women, but he had not had time to figure all of that out. The thing that annoyed him the most about these discussions of money was the fact that they took him out of his sewing room, and he was happiest when he was in there shutting, and stitching and designing.
Dr Green had given Jordan some guidance toward finding a good doctor to guide him towards his breast implants, but due to the COVID-19 restrictions, his first appointment was several weeks off.
Since the hearing, he'd used all of the money he'd made from the sale to Dr Green to purchase some new material and patterns. Everyone in the household had gotten a new dress along with a warning from Mary that their closets couldn't maintain all of these new items, so a spring cleaning needed to take place pretty soon.
He'd also sold three more dresses to a colleague of Dr Green. The woman, who was in her sixties, had a very different fashion sense than his cousins, his aunt and his doctor, which made the project even more challenging and, ultimately, more satisfying than his other projects. He was going to use that money on material, too, but he wasn't sure what to buy, just yet.
Jordan was very excited about a meeting with two new clients he'd scheduled for that afternoon. True to her word, Judge Amanda Lang had been communicating with Jordan on a nearly daily basis. Asking lots of questions about his life and interests and offering any guidance she could to Mary and Jordan, but mostly just being an older and wiser friend. Jordan looked forward to hearing that watery sound of a Skype call and the thirty or forty minute chats that always followed.
After hearing about Jordan's sewing addiction and seeing Mary, Frances, Robbie, Dr Green and Ms Lewis all wearing dresses he'd sewn, Judge Lang asked if she might commission a dress for herself and another for her daughter. Jordan agreed eagerly and they'd made an appointment for this very evening. The judge and her daughter were driving all the way out to Hardwick to have their measurements taken and talk about styles. They would be arriving soon and, thanks to the suddenly unusually warm weather, Jordan could take the measurements and have a discussion with them out in the yard.
"You look fine, baby," Mary chuckled as she watched Jordan preen in the downstairs lavatory. As he opened a tube of lipstick, Mary shook her head. "Besides, you'll be wearing your mask. She won't even see your lips."
"I know," shrugged, "but I just want to look nice. It makes me feel better."
Mary couldn't argue with that.
"Is the next Coco Chanel ready to meet her new clients?" Robbie giggled as she looked into the lavatory.
"Are they here, already?" Jordan put the cap back on the lipstick tube and checked his face one more time.
"You left your phone on the table. The judge just sent a text. According to her phone's GPS, they're five minutes away."
Jordan adjusted his very loose fitting, soft yellow dress and hurried past his aunt and cousin towards the back door. Mary looked at Robbie and shook her head, amused.
"Hey, hey, hey!" Frances called from the sink where she was wiping her hands dry after doing the dishes. "You need a mask!"
Groaning, Jordan took a few steps back and took a flowered mask from the pile of clean masks on the nearby shelf.
"Now, slow down," Mary said, calmly. "Let's all walk out there, together. Slowly."
Another grunt from Jordan was followed by a quiet and resigned, "Alright."
They headed out the door and to the driveway, just as the judge's car appeared on the road. They all waved as the judge pulled into the driveway, gravel grinding under its tires.
As they got closer, the judge got out of the car and waved back. She had a mask in her hand, but had not yet put it on. She walked to the back of the car and waited. A moment later, a blonde woman appeared. She was very tall, five foot eleven or six feet tall, her hair flowed nearly to the base of her back and she smiled broadly. The judge said something to the early-twenties-something girl who held up a mask in answer to the judge's question. They moved towards the house.
"My goodness," Mary said, impressed, "the judge's daughter is a very beautiful woman."
Frances and Robbie agreed, but when no response came from Jordan, the women turned and saw him standing and staring. Dumbstruck.
"Jordie?" Mary said. "Are you coming?"
He didn't seem to hear her, though. He just stared toward the approaching Judge and her daughter.
Robbie hustled back to Jordan. "Jordie? Are you coming?" Nothing. "Are you ok?" Nothing. Robbie turned to Mary and shrugged. "What's wrong, Jordie?"
"Robbie... did you see her?" Jordan said without looking away or blinking.
"Who? The judge or the daughter?"
"The daughter," he muttered. "She's... I've never seen anyone so beautiful."
Robbie turned and looked at the young woman who was just donning her mask. She was pretty, no doubt about it, but Jordie's reaction seemed way out of proportion.
"What's wrong?" Frances asked.
"Jordie's twitterpated," Robbie giggled.
To Be Continued...
Quarantine: 6 - Risky Behavior
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
Other Keywords:
Permission:
Author's Note: Thank you all for the reviews and comments. Please continue to post both pro and con remarks. I really, really learn from your comments! ~Clara.
This version of Quarantine: 6 - Risky Behavior 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
Mary looked at Jordan who stood staring at the approaching judge and her daughter and all she could do was shake her head in wonder. Of all the times... she turned to Frances. "See if you and Robbie can do something about him. I'll say hi to the judge."
Frances laughed. "Ok."
"Hi," Mary smiled through her mask and waved as she approached the guests. "I hope you didn't have a hard time finding us."
The judge shook her head. "Not at all. The GPS on my phone brought us straight to you. What a beautiful house! And what a beautiful town! It's like we jumped back in time to the mid-nineteenth century. Every house around you is huge and white, just like yours."
Mary laughed. People frequently got confused in Hardwick center for that very reason. One enormous white farmhouse after another. "This is the historic center of town with the old Congregational Church, the general store, the library, etcetera. The modern town center is about two miles south of here on the main road. That's where there's a hardware store, a Cumberland Farms convenience store and gas station. The historic commission works hard to keep this area like this. We love it this way."
"These houses must each be worth millions," the judge's daughter mused, looking around.
That made Mary laugh. "Oh, no, no. Not even close. Maybe if they were closer to Boston or even the Mass Pike, but we're not close to anything out here. I doubt that I could get three hundred thousand dollars if I sold this place."
"Really!?" The daughter was shocked. "Heck, I'm moving here."
Meanwhile, Robbie and Frances were trying to get Jordan to move forward.
"Come on, Jordie," Frances prodded. "They came all this way for you."
"I know, but..." Jordan's brain was working so fast that he couldn't process everything. "... maybe I should change. If she sees me like this... she'll never... she won't think I'm a guy... she's so beautiful."
As serious as Frances was trying to be, Robbie was so bemused by Jordan's besotted trance that she kept giggling as she spoke. "What would you change into, Jordie? Another dress? I'm sure that her mother told her about you and that she'll be cool with everything. Come on." She slipped her arm through his. Frances did the same and, eventually, he moved forward with them.
"Oh, God, I wish I was handsome. I bet she likes her boyfriends to be tall and handsome," Jordan muttered.
"Come on, Jordie." Even Frances giggled a bit - it was just too cute not to. "She's not looking for a date, she's here to be measured for a dress. Just be yourself and make friends with her. Don't get in your head and start projecting a whole love affair onto a simple meeting, ok? Maybe you and she can be friends, but don't try for more than that. Just relax."
He nodded. "Yeah. What was he thinking? She'd never date him, anyway. A weird little freak like him... but... she was just so pretty!"
"Ah, here they are, now," Mary said, relieved that the girls had gotten Jordan to move forward, but still concerned by his distant expression. "Judge Lang, these are my daughters, Robbie and Franny, and of course, you are well acquainted with Jordie. Everyone, this is Judge Lang's daughter, Melissa."
Unable to shake hands due to health concerns, they all gave small waves of acknowledgement to each other. Then, the judge said, "Please. Just call me Amanda."
"Ok," Mary agreed. She waited for Jordan to take the lead, but when he didn't, Mary clapped her hands and said, "Well, ok, then, who would you like to measure first, Jordie? Amanda or Melissa?"
When Jordan remained in a trance, Mary asked, "Jordan?"
"Huh?" He shook his head. "What?"
"Who would you like to measure first?"
"Oh... I... um..."
Seeing him struggle, but not quite understanding why, the judge said, "Melissa, you go first. While they do that, Mary, would you mind showing me around your property and telling me a little of the history of the house and the area?"
"That's a very good idea," Mary agreed. "Girls, help your cousin, please."
"So..." Melissa asked, "... how do we do this?"
Franny nudged Jordan. "Jordie. Melissa is waiting."
"Oh," Jordan nodded. Maybe, if he could get focused on the job at hand, he could get through this. "Sorry... um... I need my tape measure and note pad. I think I left them on the kitchen table. I'll be right back."
He turned to go, but Robbie stopped him, afraid he'd chicken out and hide in the house. "I'll get them, Jordie. You stay right here."
"So," Frances felt a need to fill the awkward silence that Jordan's infatuation was creating, "are you in school, Melissa?"
"I was," the tall girl replied, happy to converse, "until the quarantine. I just finished my senior year at Brown University down in Providence. My virtual graduation is next week. I know that's close, but I'm hoping that I might be able to have you guys make me a dress in time. I'd like to wear something special."
Frances laughed. "Oh, it's not 'you guys.' It's Jordie. He does it all himself. Robbie and I are useless in the sewing room. Honest to God, though, if you needed a dress tomorrow, Jordie could get it done for you."
"Wonderful," the girl chirped, but a haze of confusion crossed her brow. Did she just call that younger girl 'he?'
For his part, Jordan just stared at Melissa. He'd been short his whole life and was used to having to look up to see faces, but this girl was as tall as any man he'd ever met. Slender but curvy build, long, golden blonde hair in a playful ponytail, a pink tank top that displayed breasts that were moderately sized on her frame, but larger than his cousins' in real life, short, tight, dark blue running shorts that displayed a tight, firm buttocks, incredible, long legs and comparably delicate feet in white sandals. She was a goddess.
"Here you go," Robbie said, returning with the measuring tape, a pad of paper and a pencil.
"Let's get started, then, Jordie." Again, Frances nudged him.
"Oh, yeah, get started," he sputtered as he took the tape and unfurled it. Concentrate, Jordan. Just get through this. "Um... how tall are you?" He asked as nonchalantly as he could.
"I'm six feet and a half inch. I know, that's pretty tall for a girl, but, what can you do? I am as God made me." Melissa giggled with a touch self consciousness, as Robbie wrote her height down. "I usually wear a size ten tall. I know that sounds wicked fat, but when you're this tall, all the numbers go up in proportion."
Jordan drew the tape around Melissa's hips. "Hips thirty nine and a half," he dictated to Robbie. His hands shook as he raised the tape to the girl's natural waist. "Waist twenty eight."
Robbie gave a small head shake as she wrote that down. This girl has curves!
Jordan started to move the tape higher, but stopped. Instead, he pulled the tape from around her and measured Melissa's shoulders. Then her upper arms and then the length of her arms. Finally he stepped back and looked at Frances, who used her eyes to indicate that Jordan had yet to measure Melissa's bust.
Jordan shook his head 'no', but Frances repeated her gesture.
"That's everything but her bust size," Robbie said, oblivious to the situation unfolding behind Melissa.
Jordan swallowed hard. "Umm... raise your arms, halfway, please."
"Oh," Melissa said. "Ok."
With shaking hands, Jordan ran the tape around the girl's breasts, rejoining the tape in the back. "Lower them, please." Even his voice was shaky, now.
He cleared his throat and said to Robbie, "Thirty-seven inches," he said, sweet beading up on his forehead. He released the tension on the tape, let it go slack and pulled it free.
"Is that everything?" Melissa asked.
Robbie and Frances both looked at Jordan, who nodded.
"That's it." Robbie smiled. "Come on over to the picnic table and I'll show you pictures of the dresses that Jordie has already made. You can tell him what styles you like and then he'll work with you to figure out what you really want."
"Great." Melissa turned and smiled through her mask at Jordan, taking in everything she could without being too obvious. Pretty hair, big eyes, flawless skin, makeup.. she must have just heard wrong. This was definitely a girl.
Jordan did his best to smile back, but it came across like an awkward nod.
"Already for me?" the judge called as she and Mary made their way back to Jordan.
"Yes," Frances called back. Then she looked at Robbie and said, "I'll start showing Melissa the photos. You take notes for Jordie."
Once Frances had taken Melissa aside and before the judge and Mary reached them, Robbie leaned down and whispered to Jordan, "Take a breath, Jordie. She's very pretty, but she lives an hour and a half away, she's already graduated, so who knows where she'll go for a job and, let's face it, with this pandemic, it's just not a good time to fall in love."
Jordan took a deep breath and shrugged. "I'll try."
"Do your worst, Miss Alden," the judge said with a chuckle as she arrived.
At the picnic table, Frances handed Melissa an iPad with a picture of herself wearing a dress that Jordan had made her. "Here. Just scroll through these pictures and see what you like. These are just ideas, though. Jordie can make you anything you'd like."
"These are gorgeous," Melissa gushed. "Every dress is prettier than the one before it."
Frances nodded. "I know. He's something, isn't he?"
Melissa stopped and thought for a moment. She definitely heard her say 'she' this time.
"Is something wrong?" Frances asked.
"Well... it's probably none of my business, but... is Jordan really a man?"
Franny looked at Jordan and back. "Umm... yeah. I thought you knew."
"No." Melissa shook her head. "My mom always calls Jordan 'she,' but you keep saying 'he.' I'm just curious.".
"Yes. He's a boy. Is that a problem?"
"No, no," Melissa laughed. "Of course, not. It's just... well, I felt her shaking when she took my measurements. What's her deal? Sexually I mean? Is she into guys? Girls?"
This made Frances giggle a little. "Well, that is the big question, isn't it? See, even though Jordie's our cousin, we've really only gotten to know him well in the last couple of months or so. Robbie and I were... speculating... about his sexuality and, at first, we assumed he was gay, but... he says 'no.' Regardless, though... he's pretty smitten with you."
"Really?" Melissa was genuinely surprised. She glanced at the feminine little boy in the pretty dress and thought about him for a moment. "How old is he?"
"Twenty-one."
"No kidding." She was shocked. "Twenty-one..."
"Are you involved with anyone?"
Melissa chuckled at that. "Not now, no. I was seeing a guy, but... let's just say that I wasn't the pretty little thing he was looking for. The son of a bitch broke up with me on Valentine's Day. He took me to a restaurant where he thought I wouldn't make a scene and told me he'd been seeing this other girl, Betsy Van Doren, since Christmas. Can you believe that? Not just on Valentine's Day, but he made it clear that the six foot tall daughter of a judge was only a pretty good candidate to be his wife, but the product of an inbred, old New York monied family was not only better connected, but at five foot five, she made him look better in photos."
"He actually said that!?" Frances gaped in awe.
"He did and almost exactly like that. Men can be such assholes."
Frances laughed. "They can... but not Jordie. I've never met someone like Jordie. It's not like he's a girl... I mean he looks like a girl, sure, but... he's still a guy and he's still interested in girls and all, but he's just so... special, I guess. He's sweet and he wants to make everyone happy... he's like a little gem of a guy."
"Huh," Melissa uttered unconsciously. Her interest was definitely piqued, but... "Ooo." She suddenly saw a dress that she liked. "I love this one that you're wearing in this picture. Do you think he could do something like this for me? Maybe in a brighter fabric?"
"Oh, I love that dress!" Frances gushed. She looked up and saw everyone else, having finished the measurements, headed in their direction. "I'll run in and grab it so you can see it in real life. Be right back."
"I can't believe how quiet it is here," the judge said, looking around Mary's yard. The measurements had been taken and the styles had been chosen. Now, the five women and Jordan sat in a wide circle of Adirondack chairs, each at least ten feet away from the next, in Mary's yard sipping lemonade and iced tea. The judge took a deep breath. "And the air smells so clean and fresh. I never knew that places like this existed in Massachusetts - outside of the Berkshires, of course."
This side of Mary's yard overlooked the beautiful, historic center of Hardwick. Large, white houses, green fields and tress as far as they could see.
"How did you ever find this spot, Mary?" Melissa asked, also amazed at the view and peaceful atmosphere.
Mary laughed. "You'd have to thank my grandfather for that. We are the third and fourth generations of our family to live here. Growing up, my sister and a lot of my friends couldn't wait to get out of here, but I can't imagine living anywhere else, though."
"I certainly can understand that." Melissa smiled. "It's like a whole different world from where we live. I mean, mom's house is beautiful, but even with the doors and windows closed, there's always traffic noise and things like that."
"Well, you're welcome to come and visit any time you'd like." Mary smiled.
"I'd like to do more than that!" Melissa smiled back. "I'm thinking I should look for a job out in this area. I could get very used to living around here."
"Good luck with that," Judge Amanda chuckled. "I bet most of the people around her have a pretty long commute."
"Depends," Frances offered. "Ware is actually a pretty big town. A lot of people work there. It's about an hour to Springfield or Worcester. That's not too bad."
"Well, it's not exactly around the corner." Amanda laughed.
"Yeah, but we live twelve miles from your courthouse office and it can take you well over an hour for you to get there most days." Melissa pointed out. "Look around, mom. This is worth a long drive to work."
The judge shrugged. It was a good point.
"You should see Hardwick at Christmas," Robbie pointed out. "It's like a Currier and Ives painting."
Melissa looked at her mother. "See!? Worth the ride."
The conversation turned to chit chat about the weather and the pandemic, until Melissa stood and stretched.
"Ready to head home?" the judge asked.
"Actually," Melissa twisted her body a bit, "I thought I'd take a little walk around the property before we head home, if that's ok."
"Sure." Mary smiled.
"Would you like some company?" Robbie asked.
"Actually," she smiled as she lifted her mask to put it back on, "I was hoping that Jordie would walk with me for a few minutes."
Jordan had been pretty quiet, nervous about saying anything to Melissa. "Me?"
"Yeah. Come on."
Both Robbie and Frances had huge grins on their faces as Jordan gave a very nervous, "Ok," and stood.
As the very tall girl and very small boy walked away, Mary looked at Amanda and said, "I'm afraid that my nephew has a bit of a crush on your daughter."
The judge leaned forward. "Ok, I need some clarification. Maybe I'm just not 'woke' enough, but... here's a boy who presents as a girl, designs and sews dresses, is absolutely as adorable as a button and he's still a straight guy who wants breasts and has no interest in becoming a girl. Do I have that straight?"
"That's about right." Frances laughed.
The judge shook her head and held up her hands. "How!? I mean... in what world is it possible for some one like Jordan to actually exist?"
"In Jordie's world." Robbie smiled. "Wouldn't it be nice if the whole world was like Jordie's world? I think we'd all be happier."
Amanda looked away, at her daughter and Jordan walking down the hill. "Was he always like this?"
"Oh, no, no, no, no," Mary chuckled and shook her head. "This is all recent." She gave the judge a brief biography of the boy and ended with, "We wanted to get him to open up and relax while he was here. Maybe we hoped that he'd 'find himself,' as they say. I think he did."
"So, you're not going back to school?" Amanda was surprised by Jordan's revelation.
"No."
"Why not!?" It seemed inconceivable to her that any one, especially someone who who claimed to be a very good student, would chose not to go to college.
Jordan considered the question for a moment. In the very short time that she'd known the pretty little boy, Amanda realized that he needed to think through things in his own way before answering, so she just walked along and waited.
Finally, Jordan spoke. "Well... I'm not like other guys." That seemed like a very obvious statement to Amanda. "My mom and dad were over achievers. Always pushing themselves to be better doctors - and they were great doctors - but... they kind of gave up on me when I wasn't getting any taller or wasn't good at sports or couldn't really function well in social situations. So, I was always alone. I didn't have any friends in high school and when I went to college, I didn't make any friends there, either. Until I came here, I didn't realize that I was unhappy. Aunt Mary, Franny and Robbie, they're happy. Not like 'happy at a party' happy, but honest and truly happy and now that I know what being happy is, I'm not giving it up."
"Wow," Amanda muttered at such a profound answer. "And presenting as a girl? Was that your aunt's idea?"
He shook his head. "It took me a long time to figure out who I am and..." he just indicated the soft, loose fitting dress he was wearing. "This is me."
Amanda smiled.
"Can I tell you something?" Jordan said, obviously uncomfortable with what he was about to say.
"Please," Amanda encouraged.
"I think..." he stuttered as he worked up his courage. "I think you're beautiful."
Amanda smiled. "Well, thank you, Jordie. I think you're beautiful, too."
"Oh?" that threw him a bit. "Anyway... umm... I know that you probably think I'm a weirdo and all, but... do you think that, maybe, after all of this is over, that, maybe..." he was breathing heavily, now, and his mask was beginning to impede his breathing.
"Slow down," Amanda surprised him by touching his arm. "Look, Jordie, I've been in my mother's house for eight weeks at this point. I haven't been anywhere but here, today, in all that time. How about you?"
Confused by the change of topic and frustrated that he hadn't gotten to his point, Jordan shook his head and considered the question. "Me? I haven't been anywhere but here since I got here. Just a few walks. Why?"
Amanda looked up the hill to be sure that they were out of the sight of the others. "I think we're safe to take off our masks for a few minutes. I'd like to get a good look at your face."
She removed her mask and, after a moment of thought, Jordan did the same. They gazed at each other for a good long moment until Melissa smiled, first. "You are beautiful, Jordie. I think I can honestly say that you are the most beautiful boy I ever met."
That caused Jordan to smile broadly, blush and turned away. "I'm not as beautiful as you. Not by a long shot."
Melissa chuckled at that. "I don't always feel beautiful, you know, Jordie. I'm a lot taller and even broader than a lot of girls. A lot of people look at me like I'm weird because of that. Like I'm...."
"A freak," Jordan interrupted.
"... a freak," Melissa finished her thought and smiled a bit more sadly.
"Me too," Jordan nodded. "Everyone, my parents, my teachers, my classmates... they all think I'm a freak. Everyone except Aunt Mary, Franny and Robbie."
"I don't think you're a freak, Jordie. I think... I think I really like you. Like... really... like you."
For the first time, Jordan looked her in the eye. "Yeah?"
She nodded. "Yeah."
"I like you, too. When I first saw you get out of the car, I felt like... like... like..." he was too wound up to find his words.
Melissa smiled again his boyish clumsiness and decided to help. Knowing how wrong it was in this time of world wide illness, she took his chin in her hand, bent down and kissed his lips. It was a soft, long kiss and it tasted of two kinds of lipstick. Jordan yielded to her and she pulled him a bit closer, while Jordan's arms remained loose at his side.
It lasted about fifteen seconds, then, Mellisa pulled back and the kiss ended. She was nearly as stunned as Jordan. He'd never been kissed like that, before and he was having a hard time processing all the aspects of what he'd just experienced. His brow furrowed, but his eyes never left Melissa's. He was tingling.
As for Melissa, she'd had three serious relationships in her life and in each, she'd been the less dominant partner. She'd never kissed a boy that tasted like Jordie. That felt as soft as Jordie. That smelled like Jordie. That yielded like Jordie. She was tingling, too.
"I guess..."
Melissa had started to speak, but without warning, Jordan suddenly threw his arms around her neck and lurched forward, stopping just shy of kissing her. Melissa smiled, then leaned forward, closing the distance Jordan had left between them. She folded her arms more tightly around him and squeezed as she kissed him with more passion and strength than before.
This time it lasted and lasted and lasted.
When, at last, Melissa released Jordan, his knees were so weak that he could barely stand and his breathing was shallow and spent.
Melissa patted his hair and cheeks. "Oh, Jordie. You are a beautiful, beautiful boy, but... boy oh boy, do we have lousy timing."
"She kissed you!?" Robbie nearly shrieked as she an Frances were brought up to date on Jordan's walk with Melissa.
"Shh!" Frances insisted. "Mom will have a fit if she hears that!"
"It's ok," Jordan explained. "She said that yesterday was the first time she'd even been out of the house since March. So, we've both been isolated."
Robbie was ecstatic about this new gossip, but Frances was concerned. "How do you expect to have a relationship with this girl?" she whispered, concern evident in her voice. "She lives in Brookline and you live here! That's more than an hour away. You don't have a license, she can't just run out here anytime the spirit moves her. You said she'd been in her house since March. I imagine that means her mother isn't going to want her suddenly running out here all the time. What are you thinking?"
"I don't know!" Jordan said, happy, but also concerned. "I just know that I really like her and she likes me and I can't believe that someone that beautiful likes me."
Frances shook her head. "Mom's going to blow a gasket over this, I just know she is."
Jordan blinked as he tried to figure all of this out. A girl liked him! She really, really liked him. She'd kissed him. Twice! He still couldn't believe it. But how should he proceed? He had to tell Aunt Mary, but Frances might be right. After all if the precautions she'd taken to keep them all safe, she might get really mad about this.
"Well, I don't care." Robbie smiled and put an arm around her cousin. "I think it's all incredibly romantic. One character, small and beautiful, falls in love at first sight with another character who's tall and handsome... then the world conspires to keep them apart... Ahh... it's like a fairy tale and Jordie's the princess."
"Oh, please." Frances shook her head. Then she returned her gaze to Jordan. "When is she coming back?"
"Thursday. They're both coming back for their dresses, but she wants me to talk to Auntie Mary before then and she'll talk to the judge. If everything works out, she wants to take me for a ride on Saturday."
"A ride where?"
Jordan shrugged. "She said for a take out meal or ice cream or something like that."
"Ooh!" Robbie bubbled up, "that brewery at that farm up in Barre makes great ice cream. That's a nice ride. Maybe you could go there!"
"Would you please just knock it off!" Frances hissed. "Look, Jordie..." she took a breath. "Melissa seems great and I am really happy that you guys fell for each other, but... we need to present this to mom in the right way or else she's just going to shut it down on you."
Jordan nodded and looked at the floor. "Yeah. I guess I was pretty stupid to think it might work out."
Robbie looked at Frances, her eyes wide open and her chin taunt. He look scared and sad and it broke her heart. She looked at her sister and demanded, 'Don't just sit there! Say something!'
Frances shook her head and stood. "Alright... no point in putting this off. Tell you what, let's all get ready for bed, then we'll go down stairs and talk to mom. Maybe if we all plead your case, it'll be easier."
"Ok." Jordan stood, his head still hanging low.
Robbie stood, too. She touched Jordan's arm. When he looked at her, she hugged him and kissed his forehead. "Hey," she whispered, encouragingly, "don't worry. If we stick together, she'll have to say 'yes.' Ok?"
He nodded. "Thanks," and he walked to his room.
"What's your plan?" Robbie asked Frances.
The older sister shrugged. "Tell her, let her yell and say 'no' tonight and, hopefully, by Thursday, she'll calm down and say 'yes.'"
"Not a great plan."
"If you have a better one, I'm open to ideas."
Robbie just shook her head.
"Yes." Mary was speaking to someone on the phone. She sounded more formal than she would if she'd been talking to a friend, so they all assumed she was engaged with a client. "I do think that's a good idea, but I wonder if we might have to take a few extra precautions under the circumstances."
"Come on." Frances guided them into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of Mary's favorite wine from the small rack.
"Oh, great plan," Robbie said. "Get her drunk and record her saying 'yes,' then she'll have to let him go out with her."
"Shut up," Frances said, beginning to get very nervous about this situation. "I just want her to relax. Jordie's going to need all the help he can get."
"Alright," Mary's voice came from the next room as Frances poured the wind into a glass, "we'll see you then. Bye, bye."
"Let's go," Frances said and led them into the living room carrying a glass of the vino for her stepmother.
"Well, well, well." Mary smiled. "Don't you all look adorable in your pretty nighties!"
They were all wearing the faux-silk nighties that Mary had bought for them. Frances had suggested that they all wear them as a means of softening up Mary and maybe appear to be a team.
"Mom," Frances cleared her throat and handed her the wine glass, "I think we need to talk."
"Oh?" Mary tapped the sofa cushion. "This sounds serious. Why don't you all sit down." She sniffed the glass and tasted the wine. "Mmm."
Once they were seated, Frances gave her stepmother a thumbnail version of the Melissa and Jordan situation, finishing with, "And she really seems to like him, mom. She asked him out for some takeout and ice cream on Saturday."
There was silence for a moment, then Mary said, "And you kissed this girl, Jordie? With everything we have all tried to do to keep each other safe, you kissed her?" Her voice was steady, but stern.
"Yes, auntie," he whispered, contrition is his tone.
Mary shook her head and thought for a few moments more. She sipped the wine and let the silence in the room speak to her disappointment.
"Well," Robbie said, "I don't know about anyone else, but I think the whole thing is just adorable. Our little princess is swept off her feet by another princess. It's everything you'd want in a trashy romance novel. Love at first sight, a forbidden kiss..."
"A worldwide plague..." Mary interjected. Then she looked at Jordan. "That was very impulsive, Jordie."
He stared at the floor. "I know. I'm sorry. I just couldn't help myself."
Mary shook her head some more as she tried to navigate the situation. She used the wine as a prop while she thought. She watched it as she swirled it in the glass.
"Don't be mad at him, mom," Frances pled Jordan's case. "Don't you remember what it was like to be young and in love."
Mary chuckled at that. "I remember what it was like to be young and I remember what it was like to be in love, but, sadly, for me, those two things did not coincide. Sure, I dated when I was young, but I was never really in love until I met your father. I was thirty one when we met, but... I do remember how it felt. The way that I needed to touch his hand, be hugged close to his chest, and feel his kiss. I do remember that." She sighed. "I'm not quite sure how we should handle this." She was honest. She wanted everyone to remain safe and healthy, but Jordan had found someone who cared for him, cared a lot, apparently, and she didn't want to mess that up for him. He deserved love as much as, or maybe even a little more than, anyone else.
"Jordie, come here."She patted the cushion beside her. Frances shifted to the side of the couch to make room as Jodie sat, legs folded under his bottom, and Mary put her arm around him, pulling his head to rest on her shoulder. "Listen, Jordie... we have to stay vigilant through this wave of illness, ok?"
He nodded.
"Now," I've spoken to Judge Lang, and we're in agreement..."
"Wait!" Frances interrupted. "You've already spoken to the judge? You knew about this before I told you?"
Mary nodded. "Yes."
"Then..." Frances was stunned. "... why did you make me tell you the whole story? Why didn't you just stop me and tell me you knew?"
"Because," Mary's voice was a bit maternally-superior, "I wanted to hear it from Jordie's point of view, but I guess he got used to using a lawyer at his hearing because he certainly hired an impressive mouthpiece for today's proceedings." She smiled at Frances.
"Regardless, though," Mary continued, "I was a little shocked when the judge called and told me about everything. They're not even home, by the way. Melissa told her mother about everything that happened as soon as they got into the car. She didn't get her cousins to team up against her mother and show up in their cute, marching nighties to keep her from getting mad. I do appreciate the windmill though."
"I'm sorry," Jordan muttered. "I was afraid you'd get mad."
The girls apologized as well.
"No harm done, I guess," Mary rubbed Jordan's bare arm. "So, here's what's going to happen. Amanda and I are going to chat tomorrow evening and we will come up with some guidelines that both you and Melissa will need to follow if you are to date. Understood?"
"Yes, ma'm." Jordan nodded.
"Alright, then. Let's just put it all aside for tonight, then." She kissed the boy's head. "Never be afraid, baby. You can tell me anything."
"Yes, ma'm," he repeated.
"Come on, Jordie," Robbie stood and extended a hand to her cousin. "Let's go upstairs and we can do each other's hair for bed time."
Once those two had left, Frances turned to her stepmother and said, "He seems to really like her, but it all seemed to happen really quick, don't you think?"
"What? Jordan and Melissa? I suppose so, but you saw Jordan when he first laid eyes on her. He was definitely smitten. No doubt about it. Maybe love at first sight is a real thing. Who knows."
"So..." Frances made sure that Jordan was not lingering near by before saying, "... you don't think that she's interested in Jordie's money, do you."
Mary took her hand in hers. "I don't think so. According to what I've heard about the judge's family, Jordan's money would hardly be a drop in the bucket to them. But... I guess this is going to be something that Jordie will have to think about from now on. Do people like him because he's a sweet, little guy, or are they just trying to take advantage of him. As for Melissa, though, I think she's a bit taken with Jordie. It might just be the novelty of a little, feminine partner who also happens to be a guy, or it might be the real thing. I guess we'll find out."
"It had better be the real thing," Frances said with a shake her head, "because if she hurts him, I don't care how tall she is, I will kick her butt."
By noon on Tuesday, the judge's dress was done. It was a beautiful, dusty blue, with a sleeveless, fitted top, modest neckline that buttoned down the front and a very professional looking, narrow skirt. Jordan was a bit concerned about the skirt because he wanted it to compliment the judge's shape without being too confining. The short slit in the back of the skirt should help with that, but the dress dummy didn't offer him a way to create a model of the judge's derrière, so he might have to do some alterations on the fly when she showed up on Thursday.
From Tuesday afternoon on, Jordan was sewing stitches and pulling stitches and staring at fabrics and making dozens of notes as he tried to create the perfect dress for Melissa to wear for her virtual graduation. He'd gotten a beautiful bolt of material with a blue and white, geometric pattern, but he eventually put it aside and started all over again. This time, it was a silky, rayon fabric that featured a white background with a pattern or green stems going every-which-way, with small red blossoms on the vines and larger blossoms of varying shade of pink. He spent a half an hour pinning the pattern to the material and was just starting to chalk out the outlines when he decided that the design would not compliment Melissa's curvy stature appropriately. So, he pulled each of the pins out of the fabric, folded the pattern up and re-filed it, then he sat and began sketching.
He had the pad with him at dinner until a Mary insisted that he focus on his food. He had it in front of the TV while they watched their evening shows and he was still working his pencil across the pages of the notebook when he finally let the pad fall on his chest when he fell asleep sometime after midnight.
At two forty-five Wednesday morning, Frances rose to use the lavatory and noticed Jordan's light was on. When she reached his room, she found him sprawled, spread eagle on the bed, his white cotton nightie riding up to nearly his panties. She spoke his name a couple of times, but all she got in return were soft, little breaths. Frances took the sketch book from his side and pulled a sheet over him, kissing his cheek before reaching for the light switch. At the last second, though, she stopped and stared at the page that Jordie had left open. The drawing was very different than the drawings of original designs that Jordan had made before. This was no mechanical drawing. This looked like a real fashion design. The dress was breathtakingly beautiful and hung from the shapely form he'd created on the page. The form looked remarkably like the girl who'd come to measured just a couple of days ago. The shape and the face, everything looked like Melissa.
"Holy cow," Frances whispered. She looked at her cousin in awe, then back at the sketch. "Holy cow."
"Jordie, this is just perfect," Judge Amanda Lang looked at herself from every possible angle in the salon mirrors.
"Sit down and stand back up again," Jordan suggested. "Make sure that the skirt isn't too tight or too loose."
The judge did as he suggested. "It feels perfect to me," she confirmed as she checked herself out again.
Jordan smiled. So far so good. The first dress had been approved.
"I'm going to go out and show Melissa. She's going to love this." She hustled out the door. Mary and Jordan followed.
"Mom, that is gorgeous!" Melissa raved. "You look amazing in that!"
"I told you," Mary said with her arm around her nephew. "Jordan is brilliant."
"Can I try on mine, now?" Melissa asked.
"Come on in." Mary turned and reentered the salon, Jordan still under her arm. She leaned down and whispered to him, "Just relax. Fit Melissa the same way you fit everyone else, ok?"
"Ok," he confirmed, but Mary could feel him quivering under her touch. He was both anxious and a little scared about being able to touch Melissa again and Mary wanted him to stay cool.
Melissa entered behind them. "I've been so excited all week!"
"I really hope you like it," Jordan said.
"Of course, I'll like it!" Melissa said with excitement. "I love the one you made for mom."
"But your's is very different," Jordan said as he retrieved the dress from the closet.
"Jordie designed it himself," Mary said, hoping to put Melissa in a supportive frame of mind. In fact, she'd only caught a glimpse of the dress and wasn't overly impressive at first glance.
"Wow! Now I am excited!" But Melissa's smile turned to a curious scowl as she saw the dress on the hanger. It wasn't at all like the dress she'd chosen on the iPad. It just seemed... run of the mill. A white, shirt dress with long, white sleeves that puffed just slightly. The front of the dress had larger then normal, though not too big, gold buttons running from the neck to the hem of the skirt and, also hanging from the hanger was a wide, black belt with a large, gold buckle.
"It's very soft and kind of sheer," Jordan explained. "You may want to wear a camisole under it, but you should keep it plain and subtle. Lace will show through. For panties, I'd recommend a plain, white thong or plain white tap pants. Briefs will probably show." Finally, he added, "and its meant to show off your figure, so heels are required. Four inch, five inch, whatever you feel comfortable in."
Mary covered her mouth to hide her amused smile. Imagine what it must be like to be given this kind of advice by a boy that you were about to date. The thing that tempered her amusement though was the fact that Melissa still did not look impressed.
"Try it on," Mary encouraged. "Let's see how it looks."
Melissa raised and lowered her eyebrows in a display of resigned hopelessness. "Ok."
She steeped into the deserted office and removed her sundress, then looked at the dress. A plain, white shirt dress? All this commotion over how talented he is and he designs her a plain, white shirt dress. Awesome. She still thought he was cute as hell, but... a white shirt dress?
On the hanger, the dress only had the five central buttons fastened, so and she unbuttoned those and pulled the dress up her arms and onto her shoulders as if it were a shirt. Wow. It was incredibly soft. Maybe there was more to this than she'd noticed at first glance. She proceeded to button all of the twenty buttons on the dress. It fitted her hard to fit body extremely well. Ok, points for tailoring, too, but it was still just a shirt dress. A nice shirt dress, sure, but not nice enough to wear to something special, even if that event was a virtual event.
The last button was right at her neck, so she opted not to button that one. She swayed and both felt and watched how the skirt moved. Ok, more points for making a beautiful, soft, full skirt that would flow beautifully, but - a shirt dress.
She opened the door and stepped into the salon. Mary was immediately more impressed with the dress than she had been. It hung beautifully on Melissa's curvy frame.
"Wait!" Jordan looked almost pained. "Why did you button all the buttons!?"
"I thought I should." Melissa looked at the dress. "How should I wear it?"
Jordan shook his head, obviously shocked that the rest of the world did not share his vision of how this dress should be worn.
Melissa started to unbutton the dress, but Jordan shook his head and took over the process. He looked at Mary and said, "There's a black belt in there. Could you get it?"
"Ok," Mary nodded, a bit concerned that Jordan's hands were unbuttoning buttons that were resting on Melissa's breasts.
When the first four buttons below Melissa's neck were unbuttoned, Jordan knelt in front of her and began unbuttoning from the bottom up.
As Mary reentered the salon, she saw her nephew on his knees, opening the front of Melissa's dress. "Jordan!" she nearly shouted. "What are you doing."
"Making the dress right." He shrugged, oblivious to Mary's concern. His attention was laser focused on the dress.
He had nearly unbuttoned the skirt to the point of immodesty when he finally stood and shook his head to clear his auburn hair from his vision. "Belt?" He said, holding out his hand without looking at Mary, still focusing on the dress. Mary handed it to him and he leaned in close, wrapping the belt around Melissa's slender waist, displaying the somewhat unusual, vertical buckle.
Suddenly, the dress didn't look like a simple white shirt dress anymore. It was an amazing designed that transformed Melissa from a pretty, tall woman into a sexy goddess.
"Wow!" Mary grunted, impressed beyond words.
"Stand on your tip goes like you're wearing heels," Jordan nearly ordered. Melissa complied and in doing so, exposed much more leg than before. "See," Jordan explained, "when you walk, the skirt will open and swing around you, exposing your beautiful legs."
"My beautiful legs?" Melissa muttered, surprised by such a candid remark from the quiet, little boy.
"Yes," he continued, "and you should keep as much cleavage visible as your comfortable showing. The buttons will hold it closed just fine, but it'll look nicer this way." He folded the collar outward, just a bit.
"Oh... ok..." Melissa said, looking in the mirrors, absolutely shocked by Jordan's lack of concern when touching her and also by what she saw.
"What size shoe do you wear?" Jordan suddenly asked.
"Shoes? Umm, seven," she replied.
Jordan opened a door and yelled out. "Franny! Can Melissa borrow a pair of your heels? Black, preferably, and a good high heel would be best."
Frances was shocked by the request. "Ok," she replied and ran towards the house.
Melissa was focused on the mirror when Jordan suddenly grabbed the back of the dress' skirt and gave it a shake to make it pull some of loose of the belt amp do make it lay nicer. The sudden breeze up her skirt surprised Melissa and she let out a surprised, "Ohh!"
Moments later, Frances appeared with a pair of black, three inch heeled pumps with an open toe and red soles. "These are the tallest I have," she said, then, noticing how Melissa looked, she said, "Oh, wow! Jordie! She looks just like the sketch you made of the dress. It's beautiful!"
"Thanks," Jordan smiled, then knelt again, took Melissa's right foot in his hands and guided it into the shoe. Then he did the same with her left foot. "They should be a higher heel to accentuate your legs, but these will do for now. Now, walk around the salon and watch how the skirt moves."
She did and the results were amazing. Without having her hair or makeup done, Melissa was, unquestionably, a goddess.
"Jordie," she uttered, "I... I just can't... I can't find the right words. It's just amazing. I love it! Thank you!" She hugged him tightly, his head only breast high due to the added height from the pumps.
Mary was about to raise her voice because they were not social distancing, but then she realized that Jordan had earned this hug and that they'd already kissed just a couple of days ago, anyway. Besides, they'd both been in seclusion for months. She would ignore it for now and hope for the best.
"I've got to show my mother!" Melissa bubbled and headed for the door.
Mary grabbed Jordan's arm as he made to follow her. "Jordie... that dress... you've completely outdone yourself. I never expected you to be able to... I'm just so amazed!" She smiled, then hugged him and kissed his cheek. "You are unbelievable!"
"Thanks, auntie." He smiled that cute, little girl's smile of his.
"Oh, my God!" They heard Amanda shriek from the side yard. "Melissa! I can't believe it! That's the most beautiful dress I've ever seen and it fits you perfectly!"
Mary smiled at the excited sound of the woman's reaction. "Go on, baby. Go take a bow."
"So," Amanda explained in her 'judge' tone, "both Mary and I agree that we can't just forbid you from seeing each other, but you have to agree to staying safe while you're together. You will continue to remain as isolated as possible when your apart and when you're together you will avoid large crowds. Masks are on at take-out counters. If the people behind the counter aren't wearing masks, you leave and go somewhere else. You use hand sanitizer after you touch money or you touch surfaces that others may have touched and, I'm sure it goes without saying, no unprotected sex."
"Mom!" Melissa shrieked. "It's a first date! What kind of a slut do you think I am?"
Amanda shook her head and looked at Mary with a 'can you believe this' look.
"What you're mother means is, extra caution is important right now. That extends to intimacy." Mary explained calmly. "You do understand why she's bringing it up, right?"
Melissa let out a nervous laugh and smiled at Jordan. "Don't worry, Jordie. I find you adorable, but I think I can resist having full blown intercourse with you on our first date."
Surprised by her brazenness, Jordan just blushed in reply.
"So, are we all on the same page?" Judge Amanda asked.
"Yes," Jordan nodded.
"Yes, your honor," Melissa chuckled. She looked at Mary and Jordan and smiled. "When mom says things like 'on the same page,' or 'all our ducks in a row,' that's her 'judge voice.' It's best to just humor her when she's like that or else she'll just start pontificating. She spends a lot of time in courtrooms where her opinion can't be challenged. It plays with her brain."
Mary chuckled at that, but Amanda let out an exasperated sigh. It was clear that this was an on going issue between mother and daughter.
"Ok, I'll admit," Amanda laughed at herself, "that I do have the propensity to 'speak from on high,' as my daughter likes to put it, but all that aside, are you girls on board with these rules?"
"Yes," Jordan said, eager to clear any obstructions to being with Melissa.
"Your honor, I will agree to the terms." Melissa took on a very officious tone, "however, I would like the court records to indicate that we are agreeing only because we want you both to feel
comfortable. We are both adults and we are well within our rights to make our own decisions. Does the court acknowledge these
stipulations?"
Again, Amanda sighed. "The court does acknowledge the stipulation, but further stipulates that both Mary and I are within our rights to invoke the ancient 'when you live in my house, you'll follow my rules' law."
"Agreed." Melissa grinned as she stood and shook her mother's hand. She offered Mary a fist bump, which Mary responded to, very awkwardly.
"Oh," Melissa said in a sad breath, "I guess I should get out of my beautiful new dress and get back into my regular clothes." She smiled at Jordan. "I suppose this is too fancy to wear when we just go for a ride and some take out, huh?"
Jordan smiled. "Would you like something new for Saturday? I started a different dress before I designed this one. I can finish it for you."
"Really!?" Melissa was thrilled at the idea of another dress that fit as well as this one did.
"Melissa," the judge said under her breath, "don't take advantage of her."
"Oh, she's not," Jordan assured her. "I was going to finish it anyway, besides, I have to make my own dress for Saturday. It's no big deal."
Judge Amanda stared at him. "Two dresses in a day or a day and a half? Is that even possible?"
"Don't challenge him," Mary said with comic concern. "He'll make twelve if you want him to."
That evening, Frances was brushing out Jordan's hair as he sat on the ottoman in front of her in the upstairs TV room. Robbie was there, too, painting her nails.
"Are you excited about Saturday?" Frances asked.
"Yeah," Jordan admitted.
"Excited or horny?" Robbie joked.
As Jordan blushed, Frances chided her sister. "Knock it off, Robbie. Jordie's not like that."
"Oh, yeah? Did you see how Melissa looked in that dress? I almost had an erection when I saw her."
"Stop it," Frances tried to be the mature one, but Robbie's remark did make her giggle a bit.
As Frances continued to brush Jordan's auburn hair, Jordan felt the need to say, "I do get them, you know. Erections, I mean. Just because I can't father a child doesn't mean that I don't get... excited... by beautiful women."
"We know, Jordie," Frances said, afraid that they'd upset him.
"I think that we all realized that when we saw Melissa in that dress." Robbie giggled.
"Ok, really!" Frances tried again to be mature.
"Oh, come on," Robbie persisted, "you saw her, didn't you! He made her look like that, Franny. Jordie, you spent an entire day sketching out that dress and another day sewing it. You knew how she'd look in it. You must have had a hard on the whole time, right!?"
Frances was completely speechless at that remark.
The room was silence for a moment, until Jordan final mumbled, "I guess I kinda did."
For a second, the silence remained, but then the sisters broke into huge belly laughs of joy and shock.
Robbie hopped off her chair and sat on the floor in front of the ottoman. Still smiling and very excited, she spoke quietly so that, should her stepmother appear, their conversation would remain confidential.
"So," she bubbled, "you know what gets you going, but what do you know about making a girl happy?"
"Well," Jordan considered this, "she seemed to really like the dress I made her."
"No," Frances said, just as guiltily, "Robbie means, making her happy... sexually."
"Oh," Jordan felt a wave of heat pass over him at just the merest thought of Melissa and the word 'sexually' being in the same conversation. "I don't know. I mean... I know about kissing and intercourse..."
"Woah, woah! Hold up, there, cowboy!" Robbie laughed. "There's a lot of space between kissing and intercourse!"
"Yeah, there are entire continents between those two things!" Frances agreed. "Look, Jordie..." She steeled herself to have a conversation with someone that she never expected would need this kind of information. "Maybe it's time that we have a serious talk."
"A talk?" Jordan asked curious.
"THE talk!" Robbie corrected.
To Be Continued...
Quarantine: 7 - Feelings
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
Other Keywords:
Permission:
Author's Note: Thank you all for the reviews and comments. Please continue to post both pro and con remarks. I really, really learn from your comments! ~Clara.
This version of Quarantine: 7 - Feelings 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
"So," Melissa was fascinated, "you ARE going to become a woman at some point?"
"No," Jordan explained as they drove in Melissa's ten year old Toyota Avalon. She'd explained that she'd bought it from her grandparents and, even though it was kind of an 'old lady' car, it had low mileage and was in very good shape. "I'm not going to ever become a woman," Jordan continued, "I would like to get breasts, though."
"And why is that?"
"Because..." he sighed. No one ever understood this, "... I love clothes - dresses, actually - and I want to look... natural in them. If I have breasts, I will look right."
"And a padded bra...?"
"Not natural enough."
Melissa thought about this. "Will there be hormones involved?"
"I don't know yet," Jordan answered honestly. "Right now, I'm not really producing a lot of male hormones anyway, so I'm not sure it matters."
Melissa pulled into the parking area for the viewing path that runs around the southern tip of the massive Quabbin Reservoir, the body of water in western-central Massachusetts that had been created in the mid twentieth century by damming the Swift River and flooding out a handful of communities in order satisfy the water needs of the Boston area, sixty miles to the east. Despite the carnage and loss the development of the reservoir had created, it had also created new and beautiful views from many places, but none as pretty as this walkway. When Melissa had told Frances that she was looking for a nice place to take a walk with Jordan, Frances had suggested this spot.
Melissa got out of the car, once again admiring the fit of the flowered dress that Jordan had created for their first date. She'd always had difficulty finding well fitting clothes, but Jordan had no problem fitting her perfectly. The soft material fell to just above her knees and fit her broader-than-normal-for-a-woman shoulders in a casual way. She was wearing her athletic walking shoes, though, which Jordan did seem to find a bit off-putting.
She hustled to the passenger door and opened the door for her little date, who really surprised her by wearing a baby-blue dress that had a seemingly random pattern of tiny, yellow and white daisies all over it. The dress had a collar, puffy, short sleeves with plain blue bows on the cuffs, a button opening at the neck, and elastic waist and a straight skirt that ended at mid thigh. What surprised Melissa wasn't the dress itself, but the way that it seemed to youth-en his appearance. The tiny dress, the puffy, bowed sleeves, the short skirt combined with his auburn hair, with the adorable bangs, tied into a high ponytail, the thin, pale arms and slender, but shapely legs made him look like a middle schooler or high school freshman at most.
Somehow, Melissa found the whole look very erotic.
She offered a hand and helped Jordan emerge from vehicle. He smiled and whispered, "Thank you."
"Do you have your mask in case you need it?" Melissa asked.
"Oh, yeah," Jordie turned and opened his new purse, a hand-me-down from Robbie, and pulled out a mask made from the same material as his dress. "All set."
He stepped forward so that Melissa could close the door, but she blocked him. "Not quite 'all set.'" She smiled, then she leaned down and laid a soft, gentle kiss on his lips. It was as warm and as sweet and as tender as each remembered the first two kissing being. When Melissa released him, Jordan smiled back and blushed. "Now, you're all set."
She took his hand and they moved down the path, towards the dam's administration building and the walking path.
"So..." Melissa smiled, "... can I ask you a very... very... personal question?"
"Sure," Jordan chuckled. "You can ask me anything."
"Can you... get... an erection?"
"Wow," Jordan giggled, "Robbie and Franny told me that there was a long way between a kiss and intercourse. You must be jumping to the next level."
"No," Melissa laughed, "I'm just wondering. Can you?"
Jordan bit his lip and shrugged. "Yes. I guess I can."
"Guess? How can you not know the answer to that?"
"Well... when I wake up, you know... some times I'm... stiff... down there."
"Just when you wake up?"
"I guess. I mean... what do you mean?"
That made Melissa laugh out loud. "You know what I mean. When you... you know... play with it... Does it stay hard, then?"
"You mean masturbate?" He was very matter of fact.
"Of course that's what I mean. Does it stay hard when you masturbate?"
"I don't know. I've never done that."
Melissa stopped and gasped at Jordan. "Never!? You've never? Never ever? How is that possible?"
Jordan shrugged. "Is that weird?"
In the brief time that she'd known Jordan, Melissa had learned that 'weird' was a trigger word that needed to be avoided. "No... not weird. Just... unusual, I guess. Most guys can't leave their's alone."
Jordan shrugged, again. "I guess I'm just not that interested in having sex with myself. Do you masturbate?"
Melissa stood wide eyed and mute for a moment or two. "Umm... I... umm... yes. Yes, I do."
"All the time?"
"Oh, my God, Jordie! No! Not all the... Look, I think maybe we should talk about something else."
"According to Robbie and Franny, women like to be 'made love to' rather than just think about sex." Jordan spoke as if this was a perfectly normal conversation to have on a first date.
"Well, I suppose that's true, but we still like... oh, my God, I wish I'd never started this conversation." She shook her head and rubbed her forehead. "Wait... did you just say that your cousins told you what girls like?"
"Yeah," Jordan nodded.
"What... I know I'm going to regret asking, but... what did they tell you?"
Jordan considered the question. "Well... like women like to have their earlobes nibbled and... their necks kissed and... after a few dates, to have their breasts caressed."
Melissa raised her eyebrows. That was all pretty innocent. "Is that all?"
"Well... no..." Now, Jordan laughed. "They told be some embarrassing things too."
"Embarrassing, how?" Melissa had to hear this.
"You know... like... how to do oral sex and...."
"Ok, ok, ok!" Melissa laughed. "We're not going to need to use that information for awhile, yet." She exhaled and shook her head again. "New topic. You look adorable in that dress."
Jordan looked down. "Do you like it? I made it special for today. See, the blue in my dress matches the blue flowers on yours and the yellow daisies on mine look just like the daisies on yours. We match without looking like twins."
Melissa looked from Jordan's dress to her own. "Oh, wow! I never would have noticed that. That's so cute!"
That pleased Jordan, greatly. He smiled and rose up and down on his toes several times.
"Come on," Melissa grinned at his joy, "let's go look at the views."
"A one hundred million dollar account, Leary. A One. Hundred. Million. Dollar. Account! And you just let it slip right through your goddamned fingers! What the hell is wrong with you!?" Maria Otero-Melewski was livid. She was so angry that she'd called Attorney James Leary into her office during this ridiculous pandemic hoax, knowing she could face fines or worse if anyone found out. "Do you have ANY IDEA how much money we earned annually managing this account for the last twelve years!? And that was before the two doctors died and we would have had access to the money they left to the kid! You have fucked up, big time, Jimbo! BIG TIME!"
"Look, Maria..."
"Don't 'look Maria' me, Jim. Get that account back. Do you hear me? GET IT BACK, or pack up and get out. End of story!"
"But... the judge already ruled..."
"END OF STORY, ACE! Either you fix this or you're outta here!"
"Ok... ok.... I'll figure something out."
"You'd best. Now, get out of my sight, and don't put one of those foolish masks on! They make you look like an idiot!"
Jordan sat at a picnic table set off to the side of the roadside dairy bar that was known for its fried fish and soft-serve ice cream. Melissa had done her homework and found this place through a google search of every possible take out restaurant in the area. This one scored very high on the Yelp reviews, so, even though it was nearly an hour's drive from the southern tip of the Quabbin reservoir where they had taken their long walk, it was her choice.
She'd ordered herself the fish and chip plate and a clam strip boat for Jordan. After a wait of ten or twelve minutes, their number was called and Melissa had comets the window to collect the tray of food. As she turned to return to the picnic table, a woman in her latethirties who appeared to be attractive, but with a mask on it was impossible to be certain, stopped her.
"Excuse me," the woman said as sweetly as possible. "I hate to bother you, but - I was just wondering if I could ask you a question."
"Sure," Melissa replied, happy to help if she could.
"Your little sister's dress, I noticed it when she came over to get some napkins." The woman let the sentence hang there as if she expected Melissa to respond in some way.
"What about it?" Melissa finally asked.
"Can you tell me where you got it? I'm looking for something like that for my daughter."
"Oh!" Melissa chuckled, amused by the fact that the woman thought that Jordan was her little sister. "She made that herself. In fact, she made my dress, too."
"Oh, my!" The woman laughed. "You're kidding me!" She reached across the tray of food and touched the material on Melissa's shoulder. "That's gorgeous! I'm very impressed."
"Me too," Melissa laughed. "I'm very hard to fit and she did it like a day - both dresses - hers and mine. I've never met anyone who could sew like she does. And - for the record - she's not my little sister. She's my... friend. She's just very petite. She does make dresses to order, though. They are a little pricey, but, as you can see, they're really worth it. Would you like to meet her?"
"Oh, yes, please," the woman gushed.
The woman summoned her daughter, who, Melissa noted, was approximately the same size as Jordan, and Melissa led them to the table. "Jordie," she said, "this lady and her daughter would like to talk to you about your dresses."
A bit concerned about what Melissa may have told the woman, Jordan did his best to look confident as he extricated himself from the picnic table's attached bench and stood. "Oh?" Was all he said.
"Yes," the woman began, "I was just telling your friend, here... my daughter, her name is Eva, was very taken by your dress. I'll afraid I mistook you for a much younger girl, masks make it so difficult to figure these things out, so I asked your friend, assuming she was your sister, where your dress had come from. Anyway, long story short, she tells me that you make dresses to order. Is that correct?"
Jordan looked at the woman and her daughter, who, he realized, was exactly the same height as him, and replied, "Oh, yes, that is true."
"Oh, that's wonderful!" The woman bubbled. "You see, Eva is about to graduate from her middle school in a couple of weeks - it's all going to be online, of course - and, well you now how things are right now, we've had to cancel our big trip to Florida and our annual week at The Cape, so - I promised Eva that I'd get her a nice graduation dress. The problem is - the nice stores are closed and we've ordered two dresses online already and the first was way too small and second was just garbage. So, is there anyway that we might come by your shop and maybe have a dress made for my Eva?"
"I don't really have a shop..." Jordan began. Frankly, he wasn't even sure where he was or how far he was from his aunt's house. He was a bit befuddled and needed to think a bit.
Melissa realized that he needed to think, so she filled in the space. "Graduating middle school, Eva? That's quite a big step! High school in the fall, I imagine."
"Yes," the girl was happy to join in the conversation. "I'll be a freshman in the fall."
"So that makes you, what... fifteen?"
"Fourteen," she nodded. "I'll be fifteen in October."
"Fourteen," Melissa mulled that over. Fourteen years old. She'd gone from dating a six foot five pre-law major to a seamstress who looked more like a fourteen year old girl than an adult male. How cool was that!? It gave her butterflies in her stomach.
"What do you think?" The woman persisted.
"I... I Kinda work out of my aunt's beauty salon," Jordan finally said. "I guess I could do it, but I'd need you to come there to be measured and to pick out a style and then to be fitted when the dress was completed."
"I see," the woman nodded. "And where is your aunt's beauty salon?"
"Just off the common in Hardwick."
"Oh..." the woman seemed a bit deflated. "Hardwick? That's... that's quite a ways to go for a dress, isn't it?" She nodded, silently and thought. Then she heaved a sigh. "Well, I guess it just isn't possible, then. I'm sorry to have bothered you. Enjoy your lunches."
Jordan didn't know how to respond to this situation. He didn't want to disappoint anyone, but his aunt's salon was where it was. There wasn't anything he could do about it, so he just nodded as Eva and her mother turned away.
"It was very nice meeting you, both," Melissa said. "And
congratulations, Eva!"
"Thank you," the child responded, obviously dejected.
"That's too bad," Melissa said, as she slid onto the picnic table bench with remarkable grace.
Jordan watched them walk away, a bit of a knot in his stomach. "Yeah. I would have liked to have made that girl happy. I'm actually really good at that."
"I know," Melissa looked over her shoulder at the departing mother and child. "Come on, Jordie. Your clams are getting cold."
"Bill Weber, please."
-
"Bill! Jim Leary, here. How's it going?"
-
"Good to hear. Helen and the kids, they're doing well, too?"
-
"Excellent. Look, Bill, the reason I called is... well, are you still serving on the board of directors of The Mass Bar Association?"
-
"Uh Huh. Great, look... I am in a bind. A judge made a ruling against me that is costing me big time and she didn't really follow courtroom procedures."
-
"Yes. Online."
-
"Well, here's the thing, Bill - I'd really like someone from The Bar Association to review the proceedings. Someone who... understands how important it is to me that things work out correctly."
-
"Woah. That's a little steep, Bill..."
-
"No, no... I can manage that much, if that's what it takes. When can you review the case?"
-
"Today is great?"
-
"Well, the primary thing I need is to win back control of the account in question. If we could find a way to get the judge removed and the small-town-bitch lawyer disbarred, that would be icing on the cake. Hahaha."
-
"Of course, I understand that would be more expensive, but if I can get control of the account back to my firm, there will be plenty of money for all concerned."
-
"Excellent, Bill. Hey, give my love to Helen and the kids! See you on the links as soon as this idiot governor opens up the golf courses, again."
-
"Perfect. Thanks, buddy. Bye."
"I'm sorry to bother you, again," the same woman stopped Jordan and Melissa as they were depositing their trash in the receptacle, "but... don't think I'm crazy or anything, but... do you think it might be possible for Eva to try on your dress? I know, I know, I sound like a lunatic, but... it's been such a rotten year for her, as you can imagine. I was just thinking that, IF the dress fit her, maybe we could just order one to be made just like this one and you could ship it to us."
Both Jordan and Melissa were stunned by the question. Obviously, this woman was very taken by Jordan's dress. Melissa looked good Jordan who shrugged. "I guess that might work..."
"Oh, that's wonderful!" The woman clapped her hands.
"Where can we do this, though?" Melissa asked.
"See that blue minivan?" The woman pointed. "That's mine. Eva's older sister is a cheerleader and they're both part of the dance team, etc, and that requires that she and her teammates get changed on the fly pretty frequently, so my husband installed blinds on the windows and a drape can be pulled across behind the driver's seat. It's very private."
Jordan was a bit scared at the moment. He'd tucked himself and all, but the idea of getting changed in the same space as a fourteen year old girl seems to be a very bad idea and one that could easily end quiet badly.
"Well..." Melissa had similar thoughts. "... I'm not sure that Jordie would be all that comfortable getting changed in there with Eva..."
"Oh, no, no," the woman immediately realized the confusion. "I have plenty of extra clothes with us. If Jordie would take off her dress and put on one of Eva's, then she could come out and wait while Eva goes in and tries on Jordie's dress. See? It'll all be very private."
Jordan took a deep breath and shrugged at Melissa.
"Ok," Melissa shrugged as well. "Let's see what happens."
The woman led them to the blue minivan, calling her daughter to join them on the way. She opened the slider, then dropped the two seats immediately behind the driver's row and lowered them into their storage areas in the floor. Then she climbed in, closed the blinds and pulled the curtain closed.
"See! Better than a dressing room at the mall!" The woman was very excited. She hustled to the hatch in the rear of the vehicle and pulled out a duffle bag. She opened it and produced a cute, little sundress. It was a soft green-blue with little images of Disney's version of Rapunzel in various attitudes slashed about it. "It's a bit young for you, I know, but it'll only be for a few minutes." She handed it to Jordan.
Jordan took the dress, opened it so he could see it - the childish pattern, the inexpensive spaghetti straps, the smocked bodice - it looked like it was a bit young for Eva as well.
"We went to Disney World in February, with the girls' dance team," the woman explained. "All the girls got dresses like these. Eva got Rapunzel, Belle, Merida and who knows what other princesses."
"It'll just be for a few minutes," Melissa giggled. "It'll be fine."
Jordan shrugged and climbed into the minivan. Less than a minute later, he emerged in the Rapunzel dress, feeling just a bit odd.
"Ok, Eva," the woman smiled. "Jump in and try it on."
"Ok, mom," Eva practically leapt into the minivan and was pulling her shorts and tee shirt off before the door was even closed.
"Does it fit?" The woman asked, through the window.
"Oh, mom, it fits perfect!" Eva shouted as she opened the slider and bounded out. "Wow, we must be exactly the same size!"
There was no denying it, the dress hugged her absolutely perfectly. It revealed her modest, developing breasts, hung nicely from her still narrow hips and looked just adorable on the girl.
"Well," the woman said, "I guess we don't need to come down to be measured. Could I pay you to make Eva a dress like this and have you send it to us? I'll add in the cost of shipping, of course."
Jordan was feeling a little cornered. He'd never made a dress without a formal measuring and fitting. "Umm... I guess... but..." then it occurred to him, "...the fabric! You need to pick the fabric."
"Maybe you could send her photos of the materials you'd suggest and she could pick from those," Melissa suggested, trying to be helpful.
Jordan mulled that for a moment or two, then said. "Ok. I guess we can do that."
"Mom," Eva said, excitedly motioning for her mother to bend so she could whisper in her ear.
"What, Evie?" She listened as the girl whispered into her ear. "Oh!" The woman said, "Well, I guess we can make this very simple." She smiled. "Eva says that she loves this material, so if you could make her one just like this, she'd be thrilled."
"Oh, great!" Melissa clapped her hands and smiled. "So, Jordie, you know the style and you know the fabric, so I guess you just need to discuss the price."
"Oh, well..." Jordie hated disappointing anyone, but there was a problem to address. "See... I don't have enough of that fabric to make another dress."
"Oh," the woman said. "Well, could you order more of this?"
"I don't think so," Jordan said, quietly. "This was in the stock my grandmother and great grandmother had saved in the sewing room at my aunt's house. I doubt that I could order it. Maybe something similar, but not exactly the same."
The woman looked at Eva. "Well, your can't get a dress exactly like it, but we can get you something similar. Is that ok."
Eva was deflated. "Yeah, I guess. This is just perfect, though. I wish I could get one just like it."
"I'm sure it will be lovely, dear," the woman consoled and rubbed her daughter's shoulders. "So... what will this cost?"
Jordan didn't reply. He was thinking.
"Well," Melissa was stalling until Jordan spoke, "I think we'll need to find out how much the material will cost, first. Then we'll need to add that to Jordan's time and skill... how many hours do you think it will take you to complete a dress like this, Jordie?"
No answer.
"Jordie?"
"An hour and a half," Jordan muttered.
"Really?" The woman said, amazed.
"No," Melissa let out a nervous laugh, "I don't think that Jordie heard the question correctly."
"Yes I did," Jordan said without looking away from Eva. "It took me an hour and a half to make that dress, yesterday. It might even be faster if I decide to make another."
"If?" The woman asked. "I thought we had agreed..."
"No... we hadn't," Jordan shook his head. "I don't think I want to..."
"Jordie," Melissa coughed and got his attention, "maybe we should talk about this in private."
"No," Jordan turned to the woman. "I don't want to sell you a dress."
The woman looked indignant and was about to put Jordan in his place, when he spoke first.
"Eva, do you really like that dress?"
"Yes," the child said, dejectedly. "I love it. It's perfect and it so soft and comfortable."
Jordan nodded. "Then it's yours. Congratulations on your graduation from middle school."
"Now, just a minute..." the woman began, but then stopped and looked at Jordan. "Are you serious? I'm very happy to pay for the dress. Honestly!"
Jordan shook his head and smiled behind his mask. "No. It's a gift. Eva likes it too much for me to charge you for it."
"Oh, thank you!" Eva shrieked as she made to hug Jordan, but her mother intervened.
"No hugs, Evie. Remember we need to distance. Although, I'd really like to hug you myself, Jordie. That was very kind. Thank you."
"You're welcome," he blushed and looked at the dirt of the unpaved parking lot.
"Ahem," Melissa cleared her throat. "If I may point out a slight problem. Jordie, you need something to wear home and I'm sure that Eva and her mom don't want to lose that dress. It was, after all, a souvenir from Disney World." She looked at the woman. "Do you have anything less precious that Jordie could wear home?"
"Oh," the woman looked through the duffel bag. "Actually, no. Everything else belongs to Eva's big sister."
"That's ok," Jordie nodded. "Give me your address and when I get home today, I'll wash the dress and send it back to you."
"Oh, no," the woman shook her head. "There's no need to do that. You can keep the dress."
"That's ok," Jordie chuckled.
"I agree," Melissa chuckled as well. "Don't get me wrong, Jordie is as cute as a button in that dress, but it is an awfully young style and I don't think it would get much use. We'll send it back."
"Well... ok!" The woman was nearly bursting with happiness. "Honestly, Jordie... Melissa... I don't know how to thank you. You've made my little girl very happy. Thank you."
Melissa could see by the twinkle in Jordan's eyes that he was happy to have done what he did. When he remained silent, Melissa said, "I think you've made my little girl very happy, too."
As they drove along, eating the ice cream they'd selected for their desserts, Jordan mused, "That's what I really want to do with the money I'm getting. Make young people happy. Especially girls. Did you see her smile? That made me feel good."
"That's great, Jordie," Melissa smiled and reached over to squeeze his exposed knee.
She drove a bit further, then asked, "Are you planning on making a lot of money designing dresses? Because I think you can, but you can't just give them away like that."
"Did you see how happy it made her?"
"Yes."
"Then I got paid plenty - and, by the way, I was talking about my parents' estate. I want to use most of that money to make people happy."
The statement confused Melissa, a bit. She didn't know a lot about Jordan, that was kind of the point of the date. She knew he lived with his Aunt Mary and his cousins, but that was about all. "Have you parents passed away?"
"Yes," jordan replied, matter of factly. "Didn't your mother tell you that?"
"My mother? No. I just assumed that she found out that you made dresses and got in touch with you, somehow."
Jordan shook his head. "No. She was the judge at the hearing about my parents' estate."
Melissa shook her head. "If it takes place in her courtroom, Jordie, then she'll never talk about it. She takes things like that very seriously."
"Oh, I thought you knew," Jordan was surprised. As he slowly continued to eat his small cup of vanilla soft serve with rainbow sprinkles, he gave Melissa a brief summary of his story and his parents' estate.
"Jordie!" Melissa pulled the Toyota to the side of the road and put it in park. "Your parents died, like, a month ago? That's awful! I'm so sorry. You must be heartbroken." She took his hand in hers.
He shrugged. "I guess, but I should probably tell you... I have a hard time processing emotions. I mean, I WANT to feel bad and I WANT to miss them... it's just hard for me."
"I understand." Melissa whispered. Then she smiled and said, "You don't seem to have a problem telling me how you feel."
He blushed and put a small spoonful of ice cream in his mouth.
Melissa giggled, "Let's see... we've kissed about a half dozen times, now and I can tell how you feel when we do."
"It's different with you and auntie and my cousins. Life makes sense to me when I'm with you or them. I don't know why, but it does."
"That's very sweet," Melissa smiled at him, sitting there in the passenger seat, wearing the Rapunzel dress. What a precious little gift he was! "So, do you have brothers or sisters?"
"No, just me," Jordan shrugged.
"Huh... well, if you don't mind me asking, if there are no other family members to contest your parents' will, why did my mom get involved?"
Jordan told her about Mr Leary and how he'd tried to take the inheritance, and how he'd decided to split it with his family and help others with the rest.
"Holy smokes," Melissa uttered, looking across at the little man, "you're like a saint or something. Honestly, if you weren't right here next to me, I'd swear that it couldn't be possibly for someone like you to exist."
With no logical response available to Jordan, he put a cover onto his half eaten cup of ice cream and said. "I'm done." Then he looked around at the scenery. "Are we headed back to Aunt Mary's now? I'm not really sure where we are."
"We were, but let's not go back, just yet. Look, there's an Audubon trail just ahead. Would you like to take another walk?"
"Sure," Jordan was willing to do anything to prolong his time with Melissa.
She drove the few yards, pulled in to the gate and brought the car to a stop in the deserted parking lot. They took a look at the map that was posted at the start of the trail. It was a two mile walk and the sign spoke of a view of a valley where they could get a 'spectacular view' of the Ware River at the halfway point of the trail.
"Just a second," Melissa said. She opened the trunk of the Avalon and took out a yellow, polar fleece blanket. When a Jordan asked why she needed it, she said, "We may want to sit for a few minutes." She also reached back into the car and, after a few moments, emerged with a small pouch that she hung from her wrist.
"What's that?" Jordan asked.
"A little purse for walking. It's got my phone and wallet and a few other things."
It was a beautiful and warm late spring afternoon and the trees were all just starting to fill their branches with leaves again. They walked and they talked and they walked and they talked and eventually they came to the scenic overlook of the valley with the Ware River flowing through it.
"Let's sit for a bit," Melissa suggested and Jordan readily agreed.
They spread the fairly large blanket out on the shallow hillside and sat, looking at the view below.
After a few moments, Melissa took his hand, brought it to her lips and kissed it.
"Can I ask you a personal question?" Melissa asked.
"More personal than asking me if I could get an erection?" Jordan asked.
She laughed. "Ok. Can I ask you ANOTHER personal question?l
"Sure."
"Is... is this your first date?"
He thought for a moment, then said, "Yes. I guess so. I mean, you don't mean like play dates and things like that, right?"
Melissa laughed she answered, "No. I mean a real date. Like with a girl."
"Then, yes. This is my first date."
She pulled him close. "I hope you're enjoying it and that we can do it some more."
"I'd like that." His face was so near her breasts that he thought he might faint. Maybe he should just keep the conversation going. "Is this your first date?"
"No, no," Melissa laughed, "no, it isn't. But I will say, it is one of the best."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," Melissa giggled. "I've never been on a date with a guy in a dress before and I've certainly never been on a date with a guy who traded his dress with a ninth grader! How could I not love that!?"
"So... you don't mind that I wear dresses?"
She smiled down at him, then leaned down and laid a gentle, soft kiss on his lips. "I love that you wear dresses."
She kissed him, again. "I love that you wear earrings."
She kissed him again. "I love that you wear your hair in bangs and a ponytail."
She kissed him again. "I love that you wear makeup."
She kissed him again. "I love that you wear lipstick."
She kissed him again. "I love that you wear panties." She kissed him, again.
"How do you know I wear panties," Jordan grinned up at her. "You're just assuming."
"I am," she giggled, "but I know how to check."
She kissed him, again and slipped her hand down to his smooth thigh and gently slid it up to the top his legs, the light cotton fabric of the inexpensive dress that hung loosely from the smocked top yielding easily to her hand. She felt the edge of his underwear. "Hmmm.... Feels kind of silky, but not like silk boxers."
Jordan was amazed that Melissa was this... brazen. That she would so casually maneuver her hand into such a private area. It felt invasive. It felt dangerous. It felt aggressive. It felt wrong - but - It made him feel ticklish from her touch. It made him feel special to be touched. It made him feel just a little wanton for allowing it. It made him feel submissive to her touch and that was a feeling, he realized for the very first time, he wanted more than anything - to submit to Melissa.
Melissa slipped her finger under the elastic that encased his hip. "Definitely silky, but light and airy and sexy." She leaned low and kissed him, softly, "Very sexy." She felt him shiver in her arms. She could remember that first make out session feeling - having a boy touch her in new and exciting ways. It was one of a girl's fondest memories and it was one that she was going to give to the little man, in the little girl's dress, who was nestled in her arms.
She played with the elastic of the leg opening for a few seconds, then pulled her finger free and ran her hand along the silky material towards Jordan's belly. As she reached the center panel of the panty, though, the silkiness ended and it felt a bit rougher. "Is that lace I feel" she giggled, causing Jordan to also giggle and smile as he shrugged his shoulders. "It is lace, isn't it? Oh, you are a sexy thing!"
With her whole palm, she felt the lacy panel that covered his lower abdomen, but underneath the silky lace, Jordan's belly was as flat as any girl's. "I think something's missing," she smiled down at him. "You told me that you had one. Where is it, you naughty little thing?"
Jordan leaned up and he initiated a soft kiss this time, then whispered, "It's tucked away... down there."
"Oh?" Melissa raised her eyebrows in mock surprise as she used two fingers to slide along the lacy panel, towards the junction of his legs and then in between them. She felt the warm, firming organ tucked into the panty's gusset and slowly, very slowly, ran her fingers along it. "I think I found it."
This was a sensation that Jordan had never felt before. Only a doctor had ever touched his penis before, and it didn't feel anything like this. Melissa felt him tense up and didn't want his inexperience to lead to a shortened encounter, so she calmed him with a motherly, "Shhh. It's ok. Relax and let me make you feel good. If you stay relaxed, it will last a lot longer. Just trust me. I know what I'm doing."
Jordan took a deep breath, then exhaled it and laid back, enjoying Melissa's strong, soft touch. He still was mesmerized just by the feel of silky panties encasing his body, but to feel Melissa's gentle touch caressing him through that silkiness was something very, very different. His eyelids fluttered with excitement as he tried to relax and enjoy every sensation.
Melissa had been in this exact situation several times before. That time of newness, of experimentation, of getting to know every inch of her partner. The thing was, though, every time before this, she was the one being held in her lover's arms and she was the one feeling a strong hand exploring under her skirts, feeling her panties and hearing her lover's flirtatious words. She'd loved feeling sexy and vulnerable in that position, but this was a whole new feeling. She was the strong, tender one who was controlling the situation. Controlling the feelings. Controlling her lover. She still felt tender and feminine, but there was a sense of power in her that she'd never felt before. A sense of almost owning this beautiful boy in her arms.
Much to Jordan's surprise and regret, Melissa's hand slide slowly away from his trapped penis and followed the lacy panel back up his abdomen, but when it reached the waistband, Jordan's let out a surprised, euphoric gasp as her fingers gentle raised the elastic and began to slide back down toward his legs, this time sliding on just his skin.
"So soft," Melissa whispered, sensually, "and no icky hair. I like that."
Again, her fingers found his penis tucked between his legs. She traveled its length twice before she slowly and softly slipped her fingers around the shaft and guided it forward to its natural position. She was surprised to find that it was a normal sized penis on this very small boy - not that she was an expert, by any means, but this was the fifth penis she'd ever touched and it felt similar in size to all the others.
"Look what I found!" She teased in a high pitched voice, as if speaking to a toddler. He should have found it insipid, but it excited him, nonetheless. "Oh, and it's getting bigger, isn't it?"
She laced her hands around the shaft and moved it up and down a couple of times, barely making contact with the skin. Jordan thought he was going to either explode or lose his mind, but he concentrated on his breathing and prayed that he wouldn't embarrass himself.
Suddenly, she stopped and pulled her hand free. Before Jordan could complain, though, Melissa said, "Let's pull these panties down and lift that dress up. We don't want to make a mess in our panties, or get anything nasty on Eva's cute little princess dress, now do we?"
Jordan didn't do anything. Melissa raised the skirt of the loose dress and neatly settled it all on the smocked bodice, then gently lowered the front of his panties so that his now erect penis was free of its confines.
It was a strange sensation. He'd never had his penis exposed out in the world like this. It was scary and wonderful. He immediately forgot that sensation when Melissa's soft hand again wrapped around him and began to slowly stroke him.
"There, doesn't that feel nice?" She whispered. "Just relax and let me take care of you, my cute, little baby." Again, that baby-talk should have bothered him, but it just seemed to give him more permission to submit to this strong woman. "Do you have any idea how adorable you look in that little girl's dress? No, I bet you don't. So small. So soft. It's really hard for me to look at you, knowing you're a man under all that pretty, little girlie-ness and knowing that under that adorable dress is a pair of thin, silky panties and that was the only thing separating your little secret from my hand. Most girls want their men in tight fitting jeans, or business suits, or tuxedos. I used to be that way, too, but then I met you. Now, all I want is you. My soft, feminine, beautiful, girly boyfriend. Will you be my boyfriend?"
The air came through Jordan's throat in short bursts, so it sounded as if he had a stutter when he whispered, "Yes. I'll be your boyfriend."
"That's a good boy," she smiled at him. "Are you ready, now."
He nodded.
"Enjoy," she smiled as she tightened her grip, just a bit, and increased her tempo, just slightly.
Jordan's eye's closed, but his beautifully sculpted eyebrows raised as his breathing increased and his torso involuntarily thrust up to add to Melissa's movement.
"That's my boy," Melissa whispered. "Relax and let it come. You'll feel so much better."
Suddenly, Jordan grunted and his whole body stiffened for a moment. Then, his penis began to spasm, his midsection began to thrust violently and he exploded rope after rope after rope of semen onto his belly and into Melissa's hand.
She kept the massaging going through his orgasm and continued until he was soft, again.
When at last Jordan could breathe normally again, he smiled up at Melissa.
"Feel better?" she asked.
He nodded.
Melissa opened the small sack that she'd carried on her wrist and pulled out a small, square pouch that she ripped open and removed a towelette which she unfolded. "I took some extra from the place we stopped for lunch. I suspected that I might find a use for some before the day was over."
Jordan tried to take the towelette from her to clean himself, but Melissa batted his hand away. "Let me take care of it. I made the mess, I'll clean it up."
She let him lay down on the blanket, free of her embrace, and she moved so that she was kneeling over his middle. She worked quickly and gently, wiping up his discharge to ensure he was clean. It took three towelettes to accomplish her work. Then she bent his flaccid member down and tucked it back into the gusset of the panties, pulling the front of the panties back into place. She stroked the flatness of the silk-lace center panel. "I really like you like this. So neat and flat and smooth. It's kind of unbelievable. I have everything anyone could ever ask for in a girlfriend, but she's got this little secret that makes her my boyfriend."
She lowered the skirt of the dress back into place. "And Disney has probably sold hundreds of thousands of this dress, but all the rest are being worn by little, adolescent girls and only one is being wore by a beautiful, twenty one year old boy and I am lucky enough to have him with me."
She kissed him, then stood and helped him up. They walked down the path, which quickly made a U-Turn and headed back towards the parking lot. As they strolled along, Jordan said, "So, I just want you to understand - when I get the money from my parents' estate, I only plan to keep a small amount for myself. I plan on giving some to my aunt and cousins and then I want to use the rest to help people."
"That's great, Jordie," Melissa smiled again him. "How are you going to help them?"
"I'm not sure yet. I've been talking to a lot of people, including your mom, about it. I have a few ideas, but I want to make sure that it's something that can really help to make people's lives better. Not just money that will be spent and then it's gone. Maybe college tuitions, or helping to set up businesses. I don't know what just yet."
She raised her hand that was holding his and kissed his. "That's very cool, Jordie. You know, my degree is in business and I interned with an investment firm. If I can be of any help, just let me know."
Jordan walked along and thought for a few moments. "You know... you're the first person who didn't act like I was crazy when I talked about giving the bulk of the money away."
"It's your money, Jordie. I can understand why you want to use it to help people and I think that's great. Besides, Jordie... it sounds like you were brought up to not think about money as an important part of life. I know that you and your parents weren't really close, in a warm and fuzzy kind of way, but it kind of seems like that taught you to be a pretty selfless person. I think that's amazing!"
Jordan had never really thought about it that way, but he suddenly realized that Melissa was right. Even though they had amassed quite a bit of money, his parents had been very selfless people. Maybe they just didn't pay attention to him because they were paying attention to everyone and they didn't even realize that they were neglecting him.
"In my family," Melissa said, snapping him out of his revery, "we are all brought up being told that money is everything. Money, position, power, that's what it's all about. I have a cousin named Phil who became a doctor and used some of his family-money to start a clinic in a really poor area of Appalachia. Most of my family treat him like he's mentally ill because of it. My mom treats him like a saint. She thinks he's the best of all of us. Maybe that's why she likes you."
"Huh," Jordan considered that. "So, your family has a lot of money, too?"
"Oh, yeah," Melissa laughed. "I'm a trust-fund-baby, Jordie. I am the fourth or fifth generation of spoilt brats in my family. My ancestors were part of the Boston Brahman crowd - mansions in Newport, townhouses on Beacon Hill, the hole shebang. Profits off the backs of the proletariat, investments in oil deposits at Tea Pot Dome, buying stocks low the day after Black Thursday, war profiteering in both world wars, profits from napalm in the sixties... I am a descendent of some pretty shallow people. I'd really like to find a good job for a socially conscious corporation to make up for some of the horrible karma my family has garnered over the generations."
"So," Jordie wanted to be sure he understood, "you're rich?"
She laughed. "I am, Jordie. Disgustingly, embarrassingly rich, but don't hold that against me, ok?"
"Ok," Jordan laughed.
As they reached the parking lot, Melissa's phone chimed, indicating a voice mail. It was from her mother. She listened to it, then said, "Hmm, that was my mom. She said to call immediately."
She pressed her mother's contact button and waited.
"Hi."
-
"We were walking on a nature trail. There was no service."
-
"Why? What's going on?"
-
"You've got to be kidding me!"
-
"So, you're on you're way to Hardwick, now?"
-
"Ok. We'll see you there."
-
"Love you, too, and don't worry. I know you. There is no way you'd ever do anything unethical!"
She hung up.
"What's wrong?" Jordan asked, concerned.
"My mom and your lawyer have had complaints filed against them with the Mass Bar Association. She's really upset about it. She's headed to your aunt's house to meet with your lawyer and she'd like to talk to you, too."
"Oh, my God!" Jordan gasped. "Am I in trouble, too?"
"I doubt it," Melissa opened his door an allowed him to sit and swing his legs in. "The charges are from The Bar Association, so they don't have any authority over anyone but lawyers."
She hustled around to the driver's side and swung her own legs in. She leaned over and said, "Give me a kiss. Things will be nuts when we get to your aunt's and I want to finish our date with a nice kiss."
To Be Continued...
Quarantine: 8 - Adjustments
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
Other Keywords:
Permission:
Author's Note: I apologize for the long wait between chapters. Real life is such a pain in the butt! Please, please, please leave comments, both to let me know if you like the story, and to let me know if you're ok. ~Clara.
This version of Quarantine: 8 - Adjustments 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
"Of course," Judge Amanda Lang said, "this is a desperate ploy by a man who needs to gain back a win from a huge loss. I know some of the partners at his firm. They're pretty brutal. My guess is that they probably demanded that Leary do whatever he can to get the account back. A hundred million dollars probably doesn't constitute their biggest account, but it's a lot of money, nonetheless."
"Not their biggest account!?" Susan said surprised. "I'll tell you the truth, it's the biggest account that I have ever dealt with and it's scaring the heck out of me."
The judge chuckled. "I understand, and that is a great deal of money and a great responsibility, but in wealthy circles, it's really only an entrance amount to the 'super rich' community. Investment law firms in the Boston, New York, DC, Atlanta areas deal with much larger estates on a daily basis. Heck, a lot of lottery winners win more than a hundred million dollars nowadays. Regardless though, no firm wants to lose that kind of money. Let's focus on our situation, though. They are demanding that we meet with the Bar Association this week, which is almost criminally fast, to at least give preliminary responses to these charges. Now, my former brother-in-law is one of the best attorney's in Massachusetts and I've already contacted him about both of our situations. He has agreed, provided it's what you want, to represent us at the hearing and have his firm do a little digging into Mr Leary's motives."
"That's fine with me," Susan nodded. "I just want to come out the other end of this still being a lawyer. Of course, I want what's right for Jordie, too, but I can't help in that area if I'm disbarred."
"Oh, Susie," Mary shook her head, "I'm so sorry to have brought you these problems."
The lawyer shrugged. "I can't blame you, Mare. You just followed instructions. Of all of us involved, you and the kids have nothing to answer for."
"That is true, Mary," Judge Amanda said. "I'll tell you what they are going to go after and that is how I led the defense rather than allowing Susan to lay out her own defense. Now, that was unusual, but hardly unethical and I'm sure that I can defend against that. Susan is really only being called to a hearing to create a distraction. I don't think there is any mud that they can really sling in her direction."
"That's good," Mary breathed a sigh of relief. "But you think you'll be ok, too, right."
"I think so," Amanda nodded. "What I did was well within my preview as a judge, but the other side will try to make me appear biased. I'll have to answer for that. The only two issues I really are - ONE - Since the hearing I have developed a friendly relationship with Jordie, which they will try to construe as a conflict of interest, but I will just frame as a mentorship. That should satisfy them."
"And the other issue?" Francis asked, half knowing the answer, but needing it to be said out loud.
Amanda took a deep breath and looked at Jordan and Melissa, then said, "The other issue is you two, I'm afraid."
"Us?" Melissa looked around to see if her mother was actually looking at someone else. "What do you mean, 'Us?'"
"I mean you and Jordie. Now, obviously, at the time of the hearing, you two had never met, but... well, you have definitely become... chummy.... Since then. Now, as a mother, I could not be more thrilled that you two have grown so close so quickly, but as a judge overseeing, what now appears to be, an ongoing case, this can easily be cited as a conflict of interests. Do you understand what I'm getting at?"
Melissa reached over and took Jordan's small, soft hand in hers. "I certainly hope that I don't!" She said with a sharp tone. "Look, mom, I will help you any way that I can, but Jordie and I just had our first real day together and we connected like I've never connected with anyone else before - male or female! Now, I understand how important all of this is for both of you, but this could go on for months! This hole dating thing has gotten incredibly difficult with the masks, social distancing, no restaurants, no movie theaters, no clubs to go to, and I am just not willing to put my brand new relationship on hold because some asshole, bully is trying to get Jordie's money. It's just not fair!"
"'Relationship?' Oh, Melissa, please," her mother said a bit thoughtlessly. "You met a couple of days ago and you've had one date. I'm asking for some consideration here, I'm not asking you to stop seeing Jordie forever. Maybe it will take a month or two, or maybe it will all resolve itself at the first hearing, regardless of how long it takes, though, I need you and Jordie to not be an item."
Melissa straightened up a bit and her eyes shot daggers at her mother. "I cannot believe that you'd ask that of me, mother. You have no idea how I feel about Jordie..."
Amanda cut her off, "I'm not denying your feelings, Melissa, but you have to see the reality of this situation."
"I am..."
"No! You're not seeing the big picture. I guarantee that, when we get home, someone will be watching our house, and if they see you leave, they will follow you, and if they follow you here, then there is no way that I can explain how my daughter is involved with the heir to the estate in question and still maintain that I can be unbiased in my decisions."
"Mom, be reasonable..."
"Oh, do grow up, Melissa," the judge's face was looking stressed, even with the mask covering the majority of it.
"Grow up!?" Melissa was revving up for a fight and Mary knew that this was not a productive situation.
"Ok, ok!" Mary held up both hands. "Let's all take a breath, here. We need a solution."
Mother and daughter both took a breath and shook their anger off.
"Do you have a suggestion?" Susan asked.
"I may," Mary shrugged. She looked at the judge and asked, "Do you think anyone followed you here, today?"
"No," Amanda said, quite certain of her response. "I was in Shrewsbury driving past a friend's house to wish her a happy birthday when I got the call and email. I'm sure that I wasn't followed. There are miles and miles of road with no houses between Shrewsbury and here. Most of the time, there was no one behind me for miles."
"Good," Mary nodded. "Frances, Robbie, go open the barn doors. Jordie and Melissa, pull Melissa's car into the barn and cover it with that huge, blue tarpaulin in there so if someone peeks in there, no one will see the license."
"Ok, but why?" Robbie asked.
Mary looked at Melissa and said, "You'll be staying here until this is resolved. That way you'll be safe and and no one will know about you and Jordie. Ok?"
"Perfect!" Melissa said and pulled herself off of the picnic table bench, took Jordie's hand and headed for the car while Robbie and Frances hustled to the barn.
"Look, Mary," the judge said. "I know that you're trying to help, but this could really blow up in our faces. If the opposition should find out about this... well... I'd have a hard time defending this kind of deceit."
Mary nodded. "Then we need to make sure that nobody finds put. Melissa will be inside at all times until this is resolved."
Amanda nodded. "It's still a very big risk, under the circumstances."
"Look," Mary said with a strange certainty, since she was the only person with no legal experience at the table, "Jordie has been through an awful lot lately and he's not just infatuated with Melissa - he's truly in love with her. Now, love is something that has been sorely lacking in that child's life and I will not allow the greedy manipulations of some overpriced lawyers to take that away from him. End of story. If you want to give in to this stupidity and make Melissa go home, then I guess I will have to agree to that. Perhaps I was a bit pushy, just now, but I think this is the right thing to do."
"No," the judge shook her head. "You're right. It's the right thing for them, and it takes Melissa out of the equation. I'll go along with it, but we need to be very discreet about this. There is a possibility that Jordie may be summoned and if she is, then we'll need to avoid any mention of this arrangement, if possible."
"Well, ok," Mary agreed. "I guess we'll have to cross that bridge when we come to it."
"So, Jordie just traded dresses with this complete stranger!?" Robbie was enjoying Melissa's retelling of the saga of Jordie's new dress.
"I believe it," Frances chuckled. "Jordie's sweet to everyone. You said that this girl was fourteen, right? Heck, most people's hearts would break for a sad fourteen year old. Jordie just knew how to make her happy and was willing to do what it took."
"He is pretty awesome," Robbie agreed.
Melissa smiled and looked down at the floor where three large bags from Target were laying on the carpet. They were filled with new bras and panties, new pajamas, several new chemise and a variety of bath and beauty products. She looked back up at Frances and said, "Thanks for getting me this stuff. When I left home this morning, I never expected that I'd be staying here."
Frances waved off the thanks. "As long as you're dating Jordie, you're family."
"So..." Robbie teased. "... do you really like him?"
Melissa glanced down the hall to be sure that Jordie had not yet emerged from the bathroom where he had gone to shower. "If I am being honest with you, I think I'm really falling hard for him."
"You mean," Robbie was intrigued, "... you love him?"
Melissa looked away and a smile played on her lips. "I don't know. I mean... it's only been one date, but... I've been with a few guys and I thought that I loved some of them, but... I feel entirely different when I think about Jordie and... when I'm with him... wow... it's like he's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. It's like... it's like I've fallen in love differently. Like a guy falls in love, you know? I'm infatuated with him. I love how he feels when I touch him. How he smells so feminine. How he submits when I kiss him. Just thinking about him now, I'm getting shivers."
"Sounds like love to me," Robbie nearly swooned, "I'm so happy for him. Well... for both of you, of course, but... you know what I mean."
Melissa smiled. "I do. Thank you. Now, tell me about Jordie when he was little."
Robbie looked to her older sister. "There's not much we can tell you," Frances said, honestly. "We were, like, eight and six when we first met him. That was when mom started dating our dad. Jordie was around sometimes and mom would always tell us to be patient with him and play nice. I was seven when mom and dad got married and Franny was nine. Jordie's mom didn't like our dad, so after that we only saw Jordie on Christmas and Easter and only briefly then and... well... see... Jordie's always been very... what's the opposite of touchy-feely?"
"Standoffish," Frances offered.
"Yeah," Robbie nodded. "Standoffish."
"Really?" Melissa's eyes popped wide open. "That's surprising. I mean, we held hands on our first walk and we were touching each other all day, today. He didn't seem standoffish at all."
"Yeah, well, that's all part of the new Jordie." Frances explained. "The Jordie that sews dresses. The Jordie that wants to look pretty. That's the new Jordie. This Jordie has only been here a few weeks."
"That's unbelievable," Melissa shook her head.
"It's true," Robbie confirmed. "He barely spoke to us before. Now, he calls us his sisters."
"So," Melissa was enthralled in these stories, "what do you think is responsible for all these changes?"
Both Frances and Robbie were about to say, 'sewing,' but before they could, a voice came from the doorway.
"Love," Mary said. "It's very simple - Jordie was alone and he felt like a loner. He was struggling to find himself. He was a lost little boy who didn't think anyone loved him."
"And now?" Melissa asked.
"And now..." Mary smiled, "...now... he has all of us and he knows that he is loved. That's why he's afraid of ever leaving, right now. He's afraid that he won't feel the same way if he leaves. Hopefully, you can change that."
Melissa found that last part confusing. "Why? Do you want him to leave?"
Mary shook her head. "No, I love having him here, but I want him to be happy, Melissa. Just happy. He's happy here, now, but I want him to be happy here and out in the world. A month ago, I expected that in five years he'd be designing space ships for NASA. Now, he's a happy little seamstress. I suspect that there's somewhere in between those two levels of expectations that Jordie could find happiness."
"But he's not going back to school," Melissa was thoughtful. "So, he won't be an engineer."
"Well... he's not going back to school NOW," Mary agreed, "but he may decide to go back later. And don't get me wrong, if Jordie's bliss turns out to be sewing dresses all day everyday for the rest of his life, then I'll be grateful that he's found what makes him happy."
"That's not all that makes home happy," Robbie smiled as she looked at Melissa.
The girl blushed a bit and was grateful that the conversation was cut short by the sound of Jordan's voice coming down the hall. "I'm all done." He called. "The shower's available."
"Alright," Frances called back. "When you're ready, come in here and we'll help you with your hair."
"Ok," he called back as he disappeared into his room.
"You brush out his hair for him?" Melissa found the idea rather tantalizing.
"We brush out each other's," Robbie corrected. "We braid it, put it in ponytails, or pigtails..."
"It's kind of our evening ritual," Frances interrupted. "Why don't you go shower and you can join us?"
"Cool!" Melissa giggled as she rose. "I think I'm gonna like it here."
"Seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty..." Melissa grunted on the floor of the beautiful room that Mary had prepared for her. The late spring morning sun was streaming into the open window and the smell of clean, fresh air and morning dew was everywhere.
"Thirty, thirty one, thirty two..." she grunted on. She'd slept very well, eventually. The hardest part of the night was actually falling asleep, though. She was used to the sounds of traffic and air conditioning units creating a hypnotic din when she laid down to go to sleep. She'd expected silence in the country, but that's not what she found. The soft sound of the breezes in the branches of the trees, the croak of a frog in a nearby pond and the spring peepers chirping away, the creaking of the old house, the soft snoring of people in nearby rooms - all these beautiful and romantic sounds that fill the country air were alien and disconcerting for the first couple of hours, but once fatigue overtook her, Melissa slept better than she'd remembered ever having done.
"Sixty four, sixty five, sixty six..." the 'boot camp' exercise regime she'd started six years ago had served her body well up until this point, changing her from tall, geeky, pudgy girl who was uncomfortable with her body, into a firm, toned, shapely woman who felt strong and safe in any situation. She had a love/hate relationship with her morning routine, but if she wanted her ungainly body type to be attractive, it was necessary.
"Ninety eight, ninety nine, one hundred," she gasped as she completed her abdominal crunches. She pulled herself to her feet and began her squats.
"One, two, three..." she grunted some more.
Suddenly, she became aware of someone watching her. As she continued her regime, she looked to the doorway where Robbie was watching. "Hi," Melissa smiled as she continued counting internally.
"Morning," Robbie smiled. "I'm sorry if this seems creepy. I just didn't want to interrupt you and mom told me to see if you'd like to have breakfast with us."
"Sure," Melissa continued to speak and squat. "Now?"
"In fifteen minutes or so. No rush, but we like to all have our meals together. It's kind of a family thing, you know? You don't have to join us, but we don't want to leave you out, either."
"No, no, I'll be down in a few minutes. I just need to finish these squats. I didn't even know you guys were up."
"Oh, yeah. We're usually up by seven thirty or so. Mom starts her appointments at nine, so we have breakfast around eight fifteen or eight thirty. Even though it's Sunday, we still get up and get things going. Actually, I think mom does have a few appointments today."
"So, Jordie's up, too?" Melissa was a little surprised that Jordie might be awake and not have come by to say good morning.
Robbie looked down the hallway and smiled. "He is. As a matter of fact, here he comes." Then, towards the hallway she said, "We were just talking about you. You look like you've been busy."
Jordan appeared in the doorway, just as Melissa whispered, "Ninety nine, one hundred," and completed her exercise.
"Hi," Jordan smiled, looking adorable in a very short, soft green, sleeveless sundress that, combined with his subtle makeup, bangs and high ponytail, made him look like a perfect, little, teenaged cutie. He surprised both the girls by slipping gracefully past Robbie in the doorway and giving Melissa a kiss on her lips. "You're sweaty," he giggled. He had a bit of pink material hanging from his arm.
Melissa kissed him back, her kiss was a tiny bit longer than the kiss Jordan had given him. "I'll clean up, now, and come down for breakfast in a few minutes."
"Did you sleep ok?"
"I slept great," she kissed him once more. "This whole house just seems magical."
"I know," he giggled and kissed her again.
"Ok, this is getting gross," Robbie laughed. "I'll leave you two and see you downstairs."
"No, I'll come with you," Jordan called back, but gave Melissa one more kiss before he started to leave the room. "Oh!" He said, stopping on the way. "I almost forgot. Here." He handed her the material he had with him.
"What's this?" She asked as she took the material and spread it out to see it.
"It's your new dress," Jordan smiled as he disappeared out the door, leaving Robbie smiling at their houseguest.
"My new dress?" She shook her head. "It's only eight o'clock."
Robbie giggled. "It was probably done an hour ago. He works fast."
Melissa shook her head as she looked at the shapeless garment. "I don't really wear pink."
"Why?"
Melissa shrugged. "It's kind of a little girl color and looks funny on someone as big as me."
Robbie entered the room, took the dress and held it up near Melissa's body. "I guarantee that you won't feel conspicuous in this dress. Jordie has a way of making everyone feel beautiful in the clothes he chooses for them."
"You think?"
Robbie nodded, knowingly. "I know."
"I'm only seeing two people this morning," Mary said as she stood by the stove, poaching eggs in a pot and frying Canadian bacon in a pan. "Dr Green and one of her colleagues. They say I can open for real next week. So, hopefully, things will be getting back to normal, soon."
"That would be nice," Frances said, next to her, working the hollandaise sauce to its correct texture with a large whisk.
Robbie was at the counter, toasting English muffins while Jordan set the table. Sunday breakfasts had become a bit more formal than the rest of the week during the quarantine. Mary always planned something special for Sunday mornings and everyone helped.
"Jordie," Mary turned to look at him, "Dr Green and her colleague are my clients today and they want to meet with you, too. So, why don't you come out with me when I go, ok?"
"Yes, ma'am," Jordie nodded.
Suddenly, the sound of a cat-call whistle rang through the kitchen. Robbie was the whistler and the object of her critique was Melissa as she entered the room in her new, pink, cotton dress, that exposed her toned shoulders and arms, formed perfectly about her ample, pert breasts, clung to her firm stomach, then flared just enough to hang in a feminine wave about her wide hips, falling to a crisp hem high up on her smooth, powerful, feminine thighs.
"You look like a super model," Robbie said, sounding shocked.
"Wow! You do!" Frances confirmed.
"Really?" Melissa seemed a bit uncomfortable with her appearance. "I don't usually wear a skirt this short and I never wear pink."
Mary stepped away from the stove and surveyed the young woman. "Well, you should. Both the style and the color really suit you." She raised her head and kissed Melissa's cheek. "Good morning. You look lovely."
"Thanks." She looked at Jordie. "Do you like it?" It was the first time that she'd expressed a need for Jordan's approval and it made him smile.
"You're beautiful," he smiled.
She kissed his cheek, lost her nervousness and actually felt beautiful. "Thanks."she kissed his cheek. "What can I do to help?"
"There are some tomatoes on the cutting board. If you want to slice them, that would be great." Mary bobbed her head in the direction of the sink where the cutting board and tomatoes waited. "Robbie, grab Melissa an apron out of the closet."
At this point, Melissa noticed that all three women and Jordan were all wearing simple, but pretty, full length aprons. Robbie handed one to her and she placed it over her head, pulled the sash tight and fumbled to tie a bow behind her back. "I don't think I've worn an apron since I was five years old," she chuckled.
"We only wore them when we were making holiday meals in the past," Frances explained, "but now that Jordie has us all dressed so well all the time, they've become mandatory during mealtime."
"Makes sense," Melissa shrugged, still struggling with the sash.
"I'll get that for you," Robbie smiled as she untied the mess that Melissa had made of the sash and tied the ends into a bow for her. "You'll get used to it, but make sure the bow in the back is perfect, or Jordie will flip out." She laughed.
Melissa looked at Jordan who just smiled back at her.
"What are we having for breakfast?" Melissa asked. "It seems like there's a lot going on. I hope that's not all on my account."
"Sunday morning ritual since the lockdown," Frances explained.
"We're having eggs Benedict," Mary said. "The tomatoes are just for the side of plate. We find that they go well with the hollandaise sauce and end the meal nicely."
"Huh," Melissa said. "I've never had eggs Benedict before."
"Really?" Robbie seemed surprised. "I guess that, since we got the recipe out of a cookbook from Delmonico's restaurant, I just assumed that rich people always ate this for breakfast."
"Not this rich person," Melissa laughed. "I've seen it on menus, but I don't think I've ever seen anyone order it, before."
"I hope you like it," Mary smiled. "It's one of our favorites. The knives are in the drawer by your right hand."
"Ok." Melissa opened the drawer and looked at a wide selection of knives. She stared at them for a few moments, not knowing what each was meant for. Finally, she took out a medium length one that appeared sharp. She was about to cut the first tomato when Jordan touched her hand softly.
"You'll do better with a serrated knife," he whispered. He took the blade from her and returned it to the drawer while also pulling out a fairly long, serrated tool for her.
When Melissa prepared to cut the tomato, Jordan realized that, just as when he had arrived at the house in Hardwick a few months earlier, Melissa had never cut a tomato before. Quickly and quietly, he took the knife from her and demonstrated how to cut them. "One pull of the knife from the hilt to the tip and it'll cut right through it. Each slice should be about three eighths of an inch thick. Ok?"
Melissa looked at him sideways. "Three eights of an inch, huh?"
"Yeah."
"And I should know how thick that is?"
Jordan smiled at her. Oh, that smile! God, he was adorable.
"Like this," he giggled as he sliced half of the first tomato "each slice is about three eighths of an inch thick. See?"
She smirked. "Ok."
She waited for Jordan to walk away before she began cutting the second tomato.
"Don't worry," Robbie chuckled as she moved close to her. "The slices don't have to be perfectly uniform. That's just Jordie being Jordie. Of course his are going to be perfect, but the rest of us aren't nearly as retentive as he is."
When all the food was plated and on the table, they all sat down to enjoy the food. Melissa didn't dig right in, though. She looked at the two little structures on her plate and marveled at the care that everyone had put into their part of the meal. Two halves of an English muffin side by side in the middle of the plate, each had a slice of perfectly fried Canadian bacon on top, followed by a poached egg and all that was covered with rich, creamy hollandaise sauce, a sprig of parsley on top of each and three slices of tomato on the right side of the plate.
Mary noticed that Melissa was not eating and asked, "I'm sorry, Melissa. I should have asked you if you wanted this. Would you like something else? I can make you scrambled eggs or an omelet... anything you'd like."
"Oh, no," she replied, snapping back to reality. "I'm just admiring it. I've never seen anyone make a breakfast like this in their own kitchen."
"Really?" Mary seemed surprised. It wasn't all that much work to do once a week.
"Don't you have a cook or something at home?" Robbie asked.
Melissa laughed and shook her head. "No, we don't have anyone like that. We eat a lot of takeout and we used to go to restaurants a lot before the lock down. Breakfast is usually a piece of fruit or an Eggo waffle. This is like a work of art."
"Well, it's meant to be eaten before it gets cold," Mary smiled. "So, dig in."
Melissa cut a small piece and loaded it onto her fork. Then, cautiously, she placed it into her mouth. "Mmm, this is delicious!" She giggled as she ate. "Everyone thinks that rich people have it made. I'll tell you, you guys know how to live! Good food. Time with your family. Talking to each other."
"Oh, come on," Robbie said. "You and your mom seem to get along great. Well, except for that fight, yesterday, but I understand how that happened."
Melissa shrugged. "Yeah, I love my mom, but... it's different."
"I understand," Jordan piped in. "When my mom and dad were alive, they were focused on their work all the time. No one cooked, it was always takeout. No one spent time together, it was always meetings and patients and phone calls."
"Well," Mary tried to be as sympathetic as possible, "that is the price of a successful career, I guess. The more successful you are, the more you can give to your family, but also, the more you have to work and that keeps you away from your family."
"I guess," Melissa shrugged. "This is really nice, though, the way that you guys are all together and get along so well. I kinda wish I had had this growing up."
"Are you sure that this is what you want to do, Jordan?" The woman who had been introduced as Dr Olsen, a psychiatrist who specialized in gender issues, asked. "You do realize that there are disadvantages to presenting as a woman. You understand that, right?"
Jordan stared at the woman, analyzing what she meant.
Dr Green filled in the gap. "She's right Jordie. I have faced a lot of challenges as a woman in the medical profession. Especially when I was younger. I'm sure that I would have had had more opportunities had I been a man."
Jordan still just considered everything being said.
"And then there's the everyday things," Mary pointed out. "Men just staring at your bottom or your breasts. Rude remarks. Being objectified just because you're wearing a cute outfit... you've been very shielded in the confines of the house, Jordie, but you're a very cute little thing and you're going to have to deal with that same kind of stupidity if you decide to go this route."
Finally Jordan nodded. "Dr Green, when you were first starting out as a doctor, were there any boys who were starting out with you?"
"Well, of course, there were, Jordie. Most of my colleagues were young men."
"No," Jordan shook his head. "Not young men - boys. No one ever thought I was a young man. If they didn't think I was a boy, they thought I was a girl. Not a man or a woman. A boy or a girl. How many boys and girls were working with you back when you first started?"
Mary was shocked at the force with which Jordan had asserted his point.
"Ok," Dr Green nodded. "Point taken, but there are other things to consider, too..."
"Like the impact of the low doses of hormones on my kidneys and liver? I've done a lot of research and it all says that the dosages you've recommended would have minimal impact on those organs, but would soften my appearance a bit and possibly redistribute my body fat and maybe widen my hips. It wouldn't even be enough to help me grow fully developed breasts of my own, but it might enhance implants if I get them."
"Ok, that's partially true," Dr Green held up a hand. "The low doses of hormones you'd require would probably redistribute a little body fat for you, but the fact that your body isn't really producing male hormones at the rate that it should means that you probably won't see any noticeable change in skin texture and, other than the redistribution of body fat, your hips will probably remain narrow."
"But if I get thicker thighs, that will give the impression of wider hips. Right?" Jordan countered.
Dr Green looked at Mary and raised her eyebrows. It was obvious that Jordan had done his homework and made up his mind.
"Are you one hundred percent sure that this is what you want to do?" Mary asked.
"Auntie," Jordan nodded, "I would rather go through life looking like a five foot tall woman than either looking like a stunted little boy in a dress, or a twelve year old girl, neither of which would ever be taken seriously or treated like an adult."
Mary ran her fingers along Jordan's soft cheek. "Well, if that's what you want, baby, then I think you should start talking to Dr Olsen and getting things started. That way, it'll all be underway when you have access to your inheritance."
Jordan nodded. "I don't really need my inheritance, though, auntie. If I go through the whole process, seeing a therapist and a living as a woman, then my insurance will cover it. So, either way, I want to do this."
"And you think that Melissa will be ok with all of this?" Mary asked. "I know it's only been a couple of days, but you two sure seem serious."
"I'm sure," Jordan nodded.
"Ok," Dr Olsen said. "I want to see you twice a week, then. I'll come by here on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Notify your insurance company and I'll take care of the paperwork. You'll just have to deal with the cost of the co-pay."
Jordan nodded. "How much is that?"
"Usually," the doctor smirked, "it's seventy-five dollars per session..."
Jordan's eyes popped open. A hundred and fifty dollars a week was going to get unmanageable very quickly if he didn't get his inheritance.
"...but I think we might be able to work something out, if you'd be willing to make me a couple of these incredible dresses I keep seeing Dr Green wearing." She smiled behind her mask. "Is it a deal?"
Jordan smiled, coyly. "How many dresses?"
"Just a couple." The psychiatrist crossed her arms, amused by the young man.
Jordan shook his head. "No deal."
Now, the three woman looked completely surprised.
Jordan continued. "It's one dress a week, or no deal."
The Sunday night movie pick was 'Josie and The Pussycats' - Three girls in a rock band being manipulated by a ruthless record company executive with the perky singer/guitarist, serious bass player and flighty drummer struggling to remain friends and do the right thing.
Robbie sang along with the songs as she braided Jordan's hair, songs that no one would know unless they'd seen the movie a thousand times. She sang, "Six whole hours and five long days for all your lies to come undone. And those three small words, were way too late, 'cause you can't see that I'm the one." She bobbed her head to the rhythm of the song as if it was a massive hit.
Jordan smiled at her enthusiasm and bobbed his head in unity with hers, making her smile and enjoy the movie that much more.
"They're like besties, I guess?" Melissa chuckled from the side of the room where she and Frances were in the midst of a game of chess.
Franny looked at her sister and cousin. "Yeah, but more than that, too. Jordie really is like our little sister. It's been a weird few months, but everything has changed since he got here."
Melissa moved a pawn forward, endangering one of Frances' bishops. "I have to say, I've always been around girls and women, but you guys and your mom are almost the girliest girls I've ever met."
Frances looked up from the board, unsure as to whether or not she should be offended. "What do you mean?"
"I just mean," Melissa saw that she'd overstepped the fragile friendship she'd formed with Frances, "that you guys are... very feminine. Not that that's a bad thing! I just mean... all of you are always wearing dresses and your mom... I mean she's a hairdresser... you can't get much girlier than that. Look... I didn't mean to offend you. Really, I'm kind of in awe of you. You all seem so much more comfortable in your own skin than anyone else I know. It's just that... well... it's like this is a real 'house of women.' Like there's no men allowed."
Frances was still wary. "Except Jordie." She looked at her cousin. "And my dad, when he was still alive. But even then, when we first moved here with my dad, my mom lived here with her mom - and her mom's mom for the first couple of years. So, I guess you're right, in a way. It's kind of been a 'house of women' since I got here."
"And you guys never wear pants?" Melissa wasn't trying to be judgmental, but she wanted to know how deep their belief in women only wearing dresses was because she had no intention of giving up her pajama bottoms or jeans.
Frances smiled and shook her head. "That's not a rule, or anything. It's just kind of what we do to remember our first mom." She explained that situation to Melissa and shrugged when she was done. "Mom, I mean our stepmom, Mary, even though we never think of her as a 'step' mom, just went along with it to support us. If you want to wear pants, feel free. We really don't mind."
Melissa looked down at the 'lounge pants' she was wearing as pajama bottoms. "I guess I already am," she smiled. "You guys all look so cute in your matching nighties and I'd love to join you, but I didn't grow up wearing nightgowns to bed. I've tried a few times and I just find the feeling of having the skin of my legs touching each other uncomfortable - especially on a hot night."
Frances nodded and moved her rook. "Check mate," she smiled.
"No, no, no," Melissa laughed. "I can move my king to here..."
"And my queen will take it." Frances' grinned. She liked to play chess against a good played and Melissa had done very well except for this one, fatal, exception.
"Damnit," Melissa saw the strategic error she'd made and shook her head. "I'll beat you tomorrow." She glanced at Robbie and Jordan again, both absorbed in the silly, girl-power movie. Jordan, his hair now braided prettily, was sharing the loveseat with Robbie, her arm around his shoulder. "And this closeness between your sister and Jordan... this is a new thing?" She asked.
Frances nodded. "Your not jealous are you? I mean, it's just a sisterly thing. It's not like he's interested in dating her or anything."
Melissa huffed out a tiny laugh. "Oh, I'm not jealous. As a matter of fact, after our date the other day, I'm pretty sure that I never need to be jealous of Jordie looking at anyone else. I can tell that he's smitten and I think it's adorable. I don't know why, but I just kind of thought that he was a little... shy. Like he didn't want to be touched and wasn't thrilled about touching me."
"You thought he was, maybe, a little autistic, right?"
"Yeah, I guess. I mean, autistic kids don't like to be touched, right?"
Frances shrugged, "I guess, but I asked mom if he'd ever been tested for autism or, specifically, Asperger's, and she said that testing would just confirm what she already knew."
"That he's autistic?"
"That he's a little different, that's all. But when he came here, back in March, he was a completely different person - stressed, quiet, isolated, intense... Now, look at him. He's relaxed and happy and able to connect with everyone. Oh, and just to be clear - Jordie not being able to touch you had nothing to do with whether or not he's got Aspergers."
"No?"
"No. It had to do with you. He fell in love with you before you had closed the door of your mother's car. That's why he was shaking."
Melissa smiled. "My God, could he get any more precious?" She giggled.
"The 'grownups' are talking about us, Jordie," Robbie said quite loudly as she pulled him tighter to her. "They're just upset because they're missing this awesome movie."
Frances and Melissa laughed.
"Well, I guess our game is over, so," Frances stood and crossed to the loveseat where she picked up Jordan with one arm under his knees and another supporting his back and she tossed him onto the couch, "it's time for you to sit with your girlfriend."
Jordan let out a playful shriek as he floated through the air and landed on the couch.
"Move over," Frances patted her little sister's bottom, "I'm sitting with you."
"No, you're too big," Robbie teased. "I want Jordie back. Jordie! Come back to me!"
Melissa stood quickly and then plopped herself down onto the couch, wrapping her arms around Jordan's torso. "Oh, no you don't!" She giggled. "Jordie is mine! All mine!"
"Argh!" Robbie grunted. "Move over," she demanded of Frances, "your butt is bigger than Jordie's."
"And your's is bigger than mine," Frances teased. She put her arm around Robbie's shoulders and pulled her close. "There. That's better, isn't it?"
"I guess," Robbie whined, playfully, "but Jordie's butt is still smaller."
Frances rolled her eyes.
"Do you like my braids?" Jordan asked Melissa, still unsure of how feminine he could look before she no longer saw him as a boyfriend."
"They're adorable," Melissa patted the tight plaits that surrounded his head before trailing down his back. "They make you look like a virginal little girl." She smiled at him and he blushed.
"And he'd better remain a virginal little girl until his wedding night!" Robbie teased.
Melissa looked into his eyes. "I don't know if I'll be able to wait that long, but I'll try."
"Well, see that you do," Mary laughed from the doorway. "It sounds like all Hell is breaking loose up here from downstairs."
Melissa sat up, a bit embarrassed, but smiling. "Sorry."
"No need to be, dear," Mary chuckled.
Just then, there was a loud, aggressive knock on the front door. Everyone sat up straight. "Who could that be?" Robbie sounded very frightened.
"It can't be anything good," Mary muttered.
"I'll go get it," Frances said, grabbing a light robe she'd left over the back of the couch.
Whoever it was knocked again.
"Don't open the door," Mary called behind her stepdaughter. "Be careful"
"Can I help you?" They heard from downstairs. It was followed by the sounds of a man's voice that was muffled through the door.
"Why?" Frances asked. More muffled man's voice.
"Just a minute," Frances said.
Finally, Frances appeared at the foot of the stairs.
"What is it?" Mary asked, already upset.
Frances took a deep breath. "The guy says that he's a deputy sheriff and he needs to see you and Jordie."
To Be Continued...
Quarantine: 9 - Finding Themselves
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
Other Keywords:
Permission:
Author's Note: Thank you for all the wonderful emails and comments about this story. Please continue to let me know what you think of the story. All comments, pro or con, are really helpful. ~Clara.
This version of Quarantine: 9 - Finding Themselves 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
"Can I help you?" Mary said through the screened door. She'd sent Jordan into the living room to wait until she knew what was going on.
"Good evening, ma'am," the man in the black polo shirt with an embroidered badge and a the words 'Worcester County Sheriff's Department' embroidered below the badge. "My name is Deputy Reese of the Worcester County Sheriff's Department and I'm afraid that I have a summons here for you and a Jordan Alden."
"Before I open the door," Mary was cautious, "May I see some ID?"
The man pulled out his wallet and pulled out a plastic ID badge and showed it to her.
"Don't you have an actual badge or anything?"
"No, ma'am. That is my official ID."
"I must admit, deputy, I am a little confused. I've never heard of a sheriff's department in Worcester County and to be honest, I'm a little uncertain of that ID. Please wait here while I make a call to my attorney."
"It's just a summons, ma'am. You can discuss it with your attorney at another time." The man held the papers out.
Mary looked at him as she raised her cell phone and pushed Susan's number.
"Mary? Is everything ok?" Susan's voice came through the speaker phone.
"I don't know, Susie. There's a man at my door who claims to be a Sheriff's Department deputy and he has a summons for me and Jordie."
"Oh, crap," Susan muttered.
"Should I accept the summons?"
"You don't have much choice, I'm afraid, Mare. Take it and I'll come by tomorrow."
"Susie... is there really a Worcester County Sheriff's Department? I've never heard of one before."
"There is, hon. They run the county jail and deal with court documents, such as summonses. They're not very high profile, but they are law enforcement, Mare. If you don't accept the summons, he has the authority to arrest you. Just take the paperwork and I'll read it for you tomorrow."
"Ok. Thanks Susie." She disconnected the call.
Mary shook her head at the man on her front stoop. "This is all nonsense, you know. Jordie and I have nothing to do with the accusations."
The man shrugged. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but I don't really have any knowledge of the case. I'm just here to deliver the summons." He held it out again.
Mary opened the door far enough to extend her arm outside and accept the paperwork.
"Is that all?" She asked.
"No ma'am. I need to personally deliver the paperwork to Mr Alden. Is he here?"
Mary heaved a heavy sigh. "Jordie. Come here, please."
Jordie appeared from out of the living room in his nylon nightie and robe.
The deputy looked confused for a moment. "MISTER Alden???"
Jordan nodded.
The man shook his head and held the papers out. Jordan reached out and took them without saying a word.
"Thank you... ladies," the deputy said. "Have a good evening."
Jordan looked at the paperwork. "So, do we have to testify in front of the Massachusetts Bar Association at that hearing?"
Mary shook her head. "No. It looks like Mr Leary is appealing Judge Lang's ruling. He's coming after your money again."
The clock read two-eighteen when Melissa heard a door close and someone walking softly down the creaky stairs. Curious, she pulled back the covers and stood in her chemise-style top and lounge pants and pulled back the curtain to see who had left the house. Below, she saw Jordan in his nightie, walking across the grass. She watched as he sat on the table top of the picnic table and buried his face in his hands.
Within seconds, Melissa had grabbed her robe and she was tip toeing down the stairs and out the door.
Jordan was startled when he felt the touch of her hand on his back. "You scared me." He muttered.
"I'm sorry," Melissa rubbed his back and looked at his sad and tear streaked face. "Are you ok?"
He shook his head and his face melted into more uncontrollable weeping. "This is all my fault. I always do this. I mess up everything. Why can't I just be like everyone else? Why do I bring problems to everyone I love?"
Melissa wrapped her arms around his tiny shoulders. "Alright, enough self pity, Jordie. None of this is your fault. You're just a player in this game. That sleaze-ball just wants to get ahold of your inheritance. No one blames you."
"I blame me," he shook.
"Well... then you're wrong. You are not responsible for any of this."
"Melissa... All my life, I've been bad luck for everyone I've come in contact with. In high school, if I was picked for a team, they were going to lose. In college, if ever hung out with other students, someone I didn't know would start harassing us and it always ended up in some kind of a fight. My parents were so fed up with me that they escaped being near me by going to China and that killed them. Auntie Mary took me in and now she's all wrapped up in this stuff. I'm just bad luck to everyone I know. You should probably get away from me before it's too late."
Melissa ran her fingers along his braided hair. "You know, Jordie... sometimes bad things just happen to good people. Everyone has problems. That's just the way that life is."
Jordan shook his head. "What problems do you have, other than being involved with me? You're rich, you just graduated from one of the most prestigious colleges in the world... aside from being stuck here, which is my fault, what problems could you possibly have?"
Melissa shook her head. "Jordie... my dad left when I was seven. He was a rich, mean drunk who beat the shit out of my mom and he tried... well... the thing that pushed my mom over the edge and made her fight back was when he came home drunk and..." she looked away. "... she came running into my room because she heard me screaming. She found my dad on top of me, trying to... rape... me."
Jordan stared at Melissa in shock. "I'm... oh, my God, Mel... I'm... sorry."
"And my mom... Jordie, I mean, I love her and I know that she loves me, but... she's got a career and all. She wasn't around a lot when I was growing up. I spent some afternoons with my grandparents, when they weren't traveling to one island or another, or at school, or at home alone. Life's not easy for anyone, Jordie, but that's not your fault. You've got to stop blaming yourself for everything."
Jordie sat in silence for a few moments, trying to think of something appropriate to say after Melissa had opened up to him so much. Eventually, he turned away and looked at the sky. "Have you looked at the night sky since you got here? There are a lot more stars in the sky here than in the city."
Melissa looked up and saw what he meant. The sky was filled with dots of light. "Wow," she whispered. "It's beautiful."
Jordan lowered his head and thought for a minute. "Did it ever bother you that you were tall for a girl?"
Melissa took a breath. "Yes. I hated it. I felt like I was being punished by God or something. All the other girls were little princesses and I was always awkward."
Jordan took her hand and kissed it, then held it to his cheek. "I'm sorry."
Not quite sure what his point was, Melissa asked, "Does it bother you that I'm tall? Tall for a girl, I mean?"
Jordan rubbed his cheek on her hand. "I think you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."
His voice was quiet and sincere. He sounded as if he was on the verge of tears again.
Melissa felt her own lip quiver just a bit.
"Does it bother you that I'm puny?" Jordan whispered.
"You're not puny," Melissa blinked back the watery feeling in her eyes. "You're petite."
She waited a moment.
"And I don't think I've ever met a boy who I've found more attractive than you. You're beautiful, too."
Jordan kissed her hand, again. "We make a great team, don't we? A beautiful Amazon and a pretty dwarf." He snickered, then looked at Melissa. "Am I asking too much of you to be with me?"
Melissa took her hand from his, then sat on the bench beside his knees so that the top of her head was just above Jordan's shoulder. "Jordie... the world is full of tall people and small people. People who are smart in one area and stupid in another. People who have different skin colors. All different kinds of people and they all fall in love everyday. We're lucky, Jordie. We found each other. Maybe we'll look unusual to some people, but so what? I want to be with you and you want to be with me so there is nothing else to talk about."
"You say that, now," Jordan shook his head, "but wait till all of this is over and we run into someone you know. How will you explain me, then? Will you introduce me as your 'boyfriend,' your 'girlfriend,' your 'friend?' It's not going to be easy, Melissa. I'm always going to be an uncomfortable part of everyone's life. I've already ruined my parents' lives, now I'm ruining my aunt's. I don't want to ruin yours, too."
"Jordie," Melissa let out a nervous laugh, "I've only been with you a few days and already my life is so much better than it was."
"Yeah, but we're living in a bubble right now. What happens later..."
"Who cares!?" Melissa interrupted using a much louder voice than she'd intended. "Jordie, why are you making this harder than it has to be? Everyone keeps telling me how 'Jordie needs to make everyone happy.' Well, Jordie, I'm already happy and I want to stay that way. Now, please listen to what I am telling you - I love you. I want to be with you. I don't care about what anyone else thinks about you or about me or us." She took one of his hands in both of hers. "This. This right here. This is what I want. I want you. I want to be with you and I want you to be with me. Could I possibly make that any clearer."
There was at least ten seconds of silence before Jordan said, "You love me?"
"What?" Melissa was still trying to catch her breath.
"You said you loved me. Is that true?"
Melissa retraced her words. Had she said that? Yes. She probably did. Did she mean it? Yes, she probably did. Was it too soon in the relationship ship to say it out loud? Yes, it definitely was. She took a deep, resigned breath. "Yes, of course I love you, Jordie. Why do you think I'm here?"
"How? " he asked.
"How, what?"
"How do you love me?"
"What do you mean?" Melissa's eyebrows scrunched up on her forehead.
"Do you like me like a friend? Like a brother? Like a sister? How do you love me?"
"Oh, my God," she looked at him and whispered, "you are such a little girl."
She let out a sigh.
"Jordan Alden - I love you like no one I've ever loved before. I love you like a boyfriend. I love you like a girlfriend. I love you like a sister. I love you like a brother. I love you like an aunt. Like an uncle. Like a poodle. Like an ice cream cone. Like a dandelion. Like an old movie. Like a song. Like a good meal. Like a soft breeze on a hot day. Jordie... I love you like everything in the world, but most of all," she stood and looked down at him, "I love you like this."
She put a hand on each of his cheeks and drew him closer to her as she bent down and placed her lips softly on his. He yielded to her immediately and she ran her hands down his neck to his shoulders and wrapped him within her and still the kiss went on.
She ran her right hand down his left arm to his hand and raised it to her shoulder, and still the kiss continued, but now, her tongue probed deeply into his mouth, and again, he yielded.
Finally, she pulled her head back, just enough to end the kiss. She took a breath, then leaned forward and laid a small, tender kiss on his forehead. "Do you believe me?"
"I do," he whispered and received another peck, this time on his cheek.
"Do you love me?"
"I do," he whispered again. "I love you with everything I have to love."
She smiled and squeezed the hand she was holding. Then she guided that hand lowed, along the spaghetti strap of her top to the lace bodice of the tight fitting chemise that covered her right breast. She placed his palm on her breast and she shivered, just a little less than Jordan did.
"How does that feel?"she asked him.
"Soft and firm and wonderful," he smiled up into her eyes as he gently examined her breast with his soft, trembling fingers.
"Kiss me," she whispered, but she gently shook her head as he raised his lips to hers. "Not there." She squeezed his hand on her breast. "Kiss me here."
Jordan felt a fevered rush pass through him. He was petrified to even be touching her breast. The thought of kissing it, of possibly catching a peek of it was scaring him nearly to the point of passing out.
And yet.
It was what he wanted to do more than anything on earth.
He lowered his gaze and found her breasts were level with his eyes. He leaned forward and kissed the lace material of the chemise. Then, he raised his lips just a little so that his next kiss was on the pliant skin just next to the fabric.
Both he and Melissa quivered at the soft kiss.
Melissa placed her right hand gently on the back of his head. She lowered the strap of her chemise, allowing the cup of lace to be lowered as well.
Following her lead, Jordan moved his kissed closer to her nipple. Tiny kiss, after tiny kiss, after tiny kiss, moved slowly towards its target until, at long last, his kiss landed gently on the firm, erect part of her breast and his touch sent an electric charge through her like no one else's lips had ever done before. Of course, others had had their lips on this spot. Their chapped, hard, stubble covered lips had nibbled and pulled and vacuumed this sensitive part of her body, but never had had anyone touched it so softly. So passionately. So perfectly before.
She leaned over and embraced his head with her upper arms and shoulders as a much bigger orgasm than she expected rocked her to her core.
"Ahh," she gasped as she pulled him closer and her pelvis began to thrust, slowly, involuntarily forward, then back, then forward again.
Knowing he was pleasing her, but being in uncharted territory, Jordan continued his kissing, adding tonguing and gently rubbing as he used Melissa's quiet, desperate groans as a guide.
Suddenly, Melissa reached down and grasped at the empty, padded cup of his bra. Damn! Why weren't there breasts there? But there were none. She gripped his shoulders instead, but it wasn't enough. She needed more.
Her hand was near his crotch as he sat on the table, so she reached for the hem of his nightie and started to raise it to gain access to him, and she was stunned when he gently, but firmly pushed it away.
He looked up at her and in the moonlight she could see a wicked little smile on his beautiful face.
"I want it," she whispered.
His smile became impish as he shook his head from side to side.
"No?" She giggled, desperate to get his lips back on her.
"No," he said in a husky, hungry voice. "I need to worship YOU, tonight."
"'Worship' me?" Her eyes grew large. "How?"
He stood on the bench making himself taller than her and he hugged her to his artificial breasts. He also wished that they were real so that he could feel her lips on him.
Melissa rubbed her face into the silky, soft ersatz blossom. God, he smelled so good!
Jordan reached down and gently returned the spaghetti strap to Melissa's shoulder, much to her chagrin. She did not want him to stop, but the playful look on his face said that he had other plans.
Jordan jumped to the ground, his nightie inflating and relaxing with his motion. Smiled up at Melissa and said, "Like this."
Before she knew what he was doing, Jordan was on his knees and loosening the belt-tie that held up Melissa's lounge pants.
"Jordie..." Melissa gasped in surprise. She wasn't promiscuous or anything, but she'd had men's hips between her legs a few times before, but this was different. Jordan was on his knees in the same way that she'd been on her knees before boys in the past. This was a lot to take in and this was a very big line that they were about to cross. "Jordie... are you sure?"
He lowered the waistband of her pants two inches and leaned forward, kissing the skin of her lower abdomen.
Melissa gasped again as his breath ticked her belly.
Jordan's soft kisses continued as her pants slide slowly towards exposing herself to him. She wanted to stop him. This wasn't right. This was too soon. This could lead to... Oh, God, it felt so, so, so good! She was powerless to stop what was going to happen from happening. All she could do at this point was struggle to catch her breath.
Finally, the agonizing, downward progress of her pants reached her vagina and the cool, spring, nighttime air kissed her womanhood just a fraction of a second before Jordan's lips kissed her as well.
"Oh, Lord!" Melissa huffed as her body quivered to her center. "Oh, my God! Oh, my God!"
And then Jordan's tongue made a tentative entrance that felt like nothing she she could have ever imagined. It was warm and alive, not like a vibrator. It was soft and wet and pliable, not like a penis. It was alive and it was moving and it was inside her. It was hers to hold within herself and cherish like a gift.
Jordan could feel her shake. He could feel her tummy muscles ripple and stretch with her thrusts. He could smell her perfume and her sweat and her musk. He could taste her and he wanted to show her how wonderful he felt in complete submission to her - to her sex - to her strength - to her power - to her.
Just when Melissa thought she could never feel anything more exquisite, Jordan plunged deeper within her and she was wracked with one overwhelming orgasm after another. She gripped Jordan's head and held him close as she arched her back, rolled her head to the back or her head and saw the stars above her. Hundreds of thousands of stars. Jordan's stars. And then she became lost in those stars.
"It probably could have gone better," Susan said as she sipped on the bottle of beer that Mary had brought her. She was sitting in the styling chair in the salon as rain whipped at the windows. "Amanda was more controlled and dignified than I could ever have been and she was in the hot seat for hours. I was only questioned and browbeaten for an hour or so."
"Did she create a good defense for herself?" Mary sipped a beer as well. It had been a long day. Now that she was able to see all of her customers again, she was flooded with appointments. She was exhausted and the bitter taste of the beer was surprisingly refreshing on this warm and stuffy day in the salon.
"I think so. She said that the brief that I had submitted was well written and had given her the information she'd needed to make her decisions. She maintained that Leary's entire case was just based on retaining control of your sister's estate and that his attitudes towards Jordan's appearance were purely sexist and cruel."
Mary nodded. "How was your lawyer? Amanda's ex-brother-in-law? Did he do a good job?"
Susan scoffed into her bottled. "Let me tell you, Mare, I would not want to go up against that guy in a courtroom. He's a freaking pit bull! When Amanda said that she'd divorced his brother, I guess I expected him to be, I don't know, businesslike, I guess, but he acted like we were his little sisters or something. He attacked every accusation and kept his arm around Amanda through the entire proceeding. It was like he was shielding her or something. I'm sure that he'll do a great job when he goes to court with you and Jordie, too. He comes across like a crusader, you know? Like everything is a valiant cause to him."
"Good to know that chivalry is not dead!" Mary nodded, then held up her bottle. "To knights in shining armor!"
"Here, here!" Susan chuckled and clinked her bottle against Mary's. "How's Jordie holding up? Do you think he'll be ok in court?"
Mary shrugged. "I think so. He is pretty vulnerable. He was pretty upset by the summons, but he seems a lot better now. Having Melissa here seems to buoy his attitude a lot. They are awfully cute together. He's like a pretty, little puppy following her around. He's really smitten with her."
"How sweet," Susan smiled. "Do you think I could talk to him for a few minutes before I go?"
Mary checked her watch and pointed towards the door to the salon office. "I don't think he'll be done with his meeting with Dr Olsen for another hour yet. This is only his second appointment with her, but the first one lasted over two hours. I think he's measuring her today, too."
Susan's forehead wrinkled a bit. "Dr Olsen from Ware? The psychiatrist? What's that all about?l
"Boobs," Mary chuckled.
"Boobs?"
"Yeah. Jordie would like," Mary indicated her own cleavage, "his own boobs."
"Really!?" Susan said shocked. "Why?" Now she was chuckling, "they just get in the way!"
"Yes, they do." Mary agreed wholeheartedly. "I've been reading up on 'breast envy' lately. It seems that, in this ever more equitable society, penis envy has become less of an issue and breast envy has become more predominant. Who would have ever thought that could happen!?"
"Boys want breasts!?"
"Well, Jordie sure as heck does!" The beer, something that Mary rarely drank, was hitting her tired brain harder than she expected and she found herself laughing more than she wanted to. She covered her mouth to shield her laughter, but that made Susan laugh and Susan's laughter made Mary laugh that much harder. "Oh, shit!" Mary blurted out, "I think I'm getting drunk."
"Did you just swear!?" Susan laughed hard, too. She wasn't feeling the alcohol nearly as hard as Mary was, but after a terrible day, seeing her straight-laced friend getting tipsy was amusing her to no end. "I don't think I've ever heard you say 'shit' in your entire life!"
"That's because I don't swear," Mary said, taking a deep breath and gathering herself to sit up straighter and gain control. "But the way things have been going... fuck it! I'm going to swear."
Both women laughed and it's was a welcome vent for all the stress they'd been under.
Mary put her nearly empty beer bottle aside. "I better stop before I make an ass of myself in front of the girls." She pushed her hair back. "It sure felt good to laugh, though."
Susan nodded. "We'll all get through this, Mare. Then we can all laugh again."
"You got a new computer?" Frances asked Melissa as she entered the kitchen where Melissa was unpacking the new MacBook Pro.
"Yeah," she smiled. "I figured that I was going to be here for a few days and my old MacBook was getting pretty old, so I ordered one from Apple and had it delivered here."
Frances looked concerned. "Was that a good idea? I mean, now there's a record of you staying here with us."
Melissa smiled as she passed the box to Frances so she could read the delivery label.
"Who is 'Janice Elliot?'" Frances asked, reading the name on the box.
"She was a name on the list of names at the end of the movie we watched the other night. I think she was a costumer. It doesn't matter, I just used her name for the delivery."
"Clever," Frances nodded as she sat down beside Melissa at the table. "Hey... ummm... can I talk to you about something?"
"Sure."
"Ok, look... I know this is none of my business, but," she looked around to be sure they were alone, "it's about Jordie."
When Frances didn't continue, Melissa aked, "What about him?"
Frances was obviously uncomfortable about what she wanted to say. "Oh, God... you know what... forget it."
"No, no," Melissa pushed her new computer aside. "What's going on? Is Jordie upset about something?"
Frances shook her head. "I feel like such an idiot saying this, but," she heaved a sigh, "I'm not sure how appropriate it is for you and Jordie to be going at it the way you were the other night, outside by the picnic table."
Melissa froze and her eyes went wide. "Oh, my God... you saw us?"
Frances nodded. "I wasn't watching, or anything like that. I woke up and heard you guys out there."
"Look, Franny, I didn't plan that..."
Frances held up her hands to calm down Melissa. "I know. I know. I heard the whole thing. I know that you tried to calm Jordie down, but... well... I think there's a lot of pent up sexual frustration there that we never suspected. I know that Jordie was insistent and that he was the one who knelt down, but... I'm kind of hesitant to talk to him about it. I don't want to... you know... shut him down just as he's coming out of his shell."
"Yeah. I get that," Melissa nodded. "Look, I'm sorry. It really was just the heat of the moment. I'll make sure that it doesn't happen again."
Frances smiled. "I know. I know how it can be when you're first in love. Everything just happens on its own."
"Thanks," Melissa nodded, but then something occurred to her and her eyes went wide. "Oh, my God, did anyone else see us?"
Frances laughed. "Relax, no one else saw you. Only Jordie's room and mine are on that side of the house. Mom and Robbie have no idea and I'm not going to tell them. I'm really glad that you're both happy together. I just don't want you to get caught. I think mom would have a cow if she happened to walk in on you when you guys were... involved."
"Ok," Melissa agreed. "I promise - no more screwing around."
"Are you attracted to men?" Dr Olsen asked a question that she had been circling back to with great frequency.
"Not at all," Jordan insisted, yet again.
"Then do you view yourself as a lesbian?" Another frequently asked question.
Jordan hated to be forceful or argumentative, but it seemed like this was the right time to be assertive. He sighed and said, "Dr Olsen, I feel like you want me to answer 'yes' to that question just so that you can check off a box or something, but I don't think that I'm a lesbian. I think I'm a man. A very puny man who always felt out of place and freakish until the day he put on a dress for the first time. Then I felt right."
"But you present as a woman, now."
"I present as Jordie. This is what Jordie looks like."
"Well, then, if that's what Jordie looks like, why does Jordie need breasts? Jordie looks just lovely right now."
"Because I want to be able to wear other clothes. Clothes that show off a woman's cleavage."
"There are a lot of women in the world who don't have very big breasts, Jordan, and they get by just fine."
Ugg, he hated it when she played devil's advocate like this - baiting him to try to get him to say something that he didn't know quite how to verbalize.
"And I want to join their ranks. I'm not trying to look like Christina Hendricks or Dolly Parton. I just want to feel right in my own body."
Dr Olsen smiled. "Very good, Jordie."
Jordan blinked, confused. "What?"
"That was an excellent answer. It wasn't contrived or meant to coerce or please. It was an honest, heartfelt answer. Now - if you could have 'the perfect body,' what would that body look like?"
Jordan thought for a few moments before speaking. "Well... I guess I'd want to be like me, but... maybe a little prettier. Maybe a little... a little more grownup looking than I look now."
The doctor nodded. "And would breasts make you look more grownup?"
"Of course. I mean, I look like a girl, now."
"How old would you say you look now?"
"I don't know. Sometimes people say I look like a thirteen or fourteen year old girl."
"Does that bother you?"
"A little?"
"Because they think you're a girl and not a boy?"
"No," Jordan sighed. Her she goes again. "Because they think I'm a child. I want to be seen as an adult."
"An adult woman."
He was growing frustrated. "I will never be viewed as an adult man. My body can't ever do that, even with hormones."
"And would you prefer that if it were an option?"
"No!" Jordan's head was spinning. He was getting close to crying. "Please... I don't know how to say this any more clearly. I want breasts because I feel like my body should have them. I need them. They will make me feel complete."
Dr Olsen nodded. They'd been going at it like this for over an hour in the office off of the salon. "You understand why I keep coming back to these questions, right, Jordie?"
He nodded.
"Tell me why."
He sighed. "Because, if I want to expedite my surgery, you need to be sure that I know what I'm getting into. I get it. I get it, but it is exhausting."
"I know." The doctor smiled. "I'm sorry. Let's explore some other areas. Tell me about your girlfriend."
"Melissa? What do you want to know?"
"Does she want you to have breasts, too?"
Jordan shrugged. "I think she just wants me to be happy."
Dr Olsen smiled. "That's wonderful, Jordie. Do you know if she's ever had a lesbian relationship or if she is bisexual?"
Jordan shook his head. "No, she hasn't and she isn't. We've talked about it. She's had a few serious relationships, she was even engaged to a guy at one point, but I'm the closest thing to a woman she's ever been with."
She nodded. "And are you sexually active with Melissa?"
Jordan froze. Why was she asking that? Did she know something? "Why?" He blurted out.
The doctor smiled. "I'm not being nosy, Jordie. You're both old enough to have sexual relations with each other. I'm asking because we are discussing your sexual identity and I want to know if you understand what that means."
Jordan glanced at the door. "You won't tell my aunt, will you? I don't want her to get mad, or send Melissa away."
"Everything we discuss is just between us," she smiled reassuringly.
Jordan nodded. "Well... we haven't exactly had sex, but we have... done stuff."
"Such as?"
Embarrassed, Jordan told her the story of their encounter on the Audubon trail. At her insistence, he described how Melissa had masturbated him that afternoon.
"And you say that you laid in her arms and she controlled the situation as she cradled you?"
Jordan nodded.
"And it was just that one time?"
Jordan blushed deeply. "I can't believe I'm telling you this, but no. There was another time." He went on to describe their late night encounter at the picnic table and his oral sex experience.
"So," the doctor said with a clinical tone, "you 'insisted' on performing cunnilingus on Melissa that night?"
"I wouldn't say I 'insisted,'" Jordan was uncomfortable. "That makes it sound like I forced her. It was my idea, though."
Dr Olsen nodded.
"Is that ok? I mean, was it ok that we did those things?"
She smiled broadly, a bit amused by the question. "Of course, Jordie. Sexual exploration is all very normal. I am curious about something, though."
Jordan was too uncomfortable to say anything.
"As you described these two sexual experiences to me, it seems that you were, essentially, the woman in both cases."
"I don't see it that way," Jordan looked confused. "I mean, Melissa was stroking my penis in the first case, and I can't be playing the female role when I am having my penis stroked, can I? And I was giving her oral sex in the second. I thought that women liked it when men did it. What's wrong with that?"
"Nothing's wrong with it, Jordie. I'm just thinking about the situations, that's all. In one, Melissa slipped her hand under your skirts and masturbated you while you were reclined and she held you in her arms. You were submissive to her aggressions, like a woman."
Jordan nodded, embarrassed.
"And in the second case, you knelt in supplication before your admittedly bigger and stronger partner and, essentially, gave her a blowjob. You were the one entering her, yes, but you were kneeling in the traditionally female position while she stood and enjoyed the stimulation."
"So... what does that mean?" Jordan didn't know how he should feel. Embarrassed? Ashamed?
"I don't know that it means anything, Jordie. I am just pointing out that Melissa is a strong, powerful woman and you are a small, submissive man. On some... magical, romantic level, you two may well have sought each other out, somehow. They say that couples that are in love 'complete' each other. It sounds like you two do just that - Complete each other. I think it's wonderful that you've found each other."
Jordan smiled. "Me too."
To Be Continued...
Quarantine: 10 - Finale
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
Other Keywords:
Permission:
I hope you've enjoyed this series. Please let me know either way.
Author's Note: Please, please, please continue to comment - pro or con. I find it very helpful. ~Clara.
This version of Quarantine: 10 - Finale 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
"And you didn't feel as if Judge Lange was overstepping her bounds at the hearing?" The heavyset lawyer from Leary's law firm asked Mary. Mary was sitting in the witness seat of the nearly empty courtroom. Just the Judge, the lawyer representing Leary's firm, a court reporter, a court officer, Mary, Jordie and their lawyer, Judge Lang's ex-brother-in-law, Frank Middlebrook.
"Your Honor," Frank stood at his desk, obviously angered by the other lawyer's question, "my client had no experience in a court environment prior to the hearing in question and therefore would have had no way of forming an opinion as to Judge Lang's method of handling the proceedings."
"Thank you, Mr Middlebrook," the small man in his early fifties looked at the attorney with a bit of frustration, "but as I have pointed out to you on several occasions already this morning, this is not a trial, it is a hearing to determine if Judge Lang's facilitation of the hearing was appropriate and if a new hearing regarding the inheritance in question is warranted. Ms Cochran can ask any question I find relevant. If I find that the question is out of bounds, I will make that known. Your opinion is not part of today's proceedings. Is that understood?"
The big man huffed as he responded, "Yes, your honor, that is understood."
"Good. Then take a seat, Mr Middlebrook."
Frank sat and the judge turned his attention towards the other lawyer. "Having said that, I do agree with Mr Middlebrook and I am advising the witness to not answer that last question. The questions directed to the witnesses today shall be limited to questions about the proceedings on that day, Ms Cochran," the judge told her, "and you shall not ask the defendants to comment on the appropriateness of those proceedings. You will limit your questions to what the witness observed or testimony that was given and nothing else. Now, are we all on the same page?" He was obviously frustrated.
"Yes, Your Honor," Frank said again.
"Yes, Your Honor," the broad lawyer in the dark blue pants suit said.
"Then continue." The judge was bouncing back and forth just a bit in his reclining desk chair. Nothing about court proceedings was normal during these days of the pandemic, but something was very concerning about this one in particular. Someone had some friends in high places to have pushed for a quick hearing date and to draw an inexperienced judge in Sandra Browning, who had originally been assigned to this hearing. Unfortunately, Judge Browning had been exposed to Covid-19 and had to self quarantine starting this morning. He had been assigned the case with barely enough time to read the briefs.
"According to the brief given to Judge Lang by your attorney, your nephew, Jordan Alden, is a twenty one year old male who is an engineering student, is that correct?"
"Yes," Mary answered, very unnerved by being in a courtroom. She had been instructed by Frank Middlebrook to keep her answers as short and succinct as possible.
"And is your nephew in the courtroom today?"
"Yes, he is," Mary answered.
"And would you please describe your nephew's appearance today?"
"Your honor!" Frank was standing, once again.
"Sit down, Mr Middlebrook!" The judge slammed his hand on the desk.
"But Your Honor..."
"Sit now, or I shall find you in contempt of court!"
"Yes, Your Honor." He sat, but his attitude made it clear that he was not pleased.
"Ms Cochran, what exactly is your point?" The judge demanded.
"Your honor," the opposing lawyer was smug and self righteous and that irritated the judge to no end. He was not pleased with either of these attorneys. "My intention is to show the court that Mr Alden is not mentally, physically or emotionally capable of handling an inheritance as large as the one in question and that the best way to handle this estate is to leave it in the hands of my firm so that Mr Alden will be able to live his entire life off of a monthly allocation."
What kind of a cockamamie game was being played here? The judge had never heard of a law firm demanding that the management of an estate stay under their control against the wishes of the beneficiaries. Something was very wrong. This case should not even have been considered for appeal.
"Then get to your point pretty damned quickly, Ms. Cochran."
The lawyer nodded, but did not bother to give a polite, spoken reply.
"Is your nephew dressed as a little girl, today?" The lawyer said harshly.
"No," Mary replied.
"Is your nephew wearing a flowered dress with a lace collar and puffy, short sleeves?" She insisted.
"Yes."
"Is your nephew sporting a hair style featuring reddish-blonde hair, bangs and long hair in the back?"
"Yes."
"Does your nephew look like a twenty one year old male?"
"My nephew's name is Jordan and Jordan always looks the way that he looks today. So, since Jordan is a twenty one year old male and that is how he looks all the time, then, yes - Jordan looks like a twenty one year old male."
"Really?" Lawyer Cochran smirked. She pointed at Jordan and looked at him contemptuously. "THAT looks like a twenty one year old MALE to you?"
Frank stood to object, but the judge spoke before Frank could. "MS COCHRAN! You are done with this witness. Mr Middlebrook, do you have any questions?"
"I'm not finished, Your Honor!" Cochran complained.
"Yes, you are, Ms Cochran. Sit down and be quiet until it is your turn to speak, again. Mr Middlebrook, ask your questions if you have any." The judge's face was red with frustration.
Cochran walked deliberately to her assigned table as Frank stood. He rubbed the crown of his bald head, his dark skin and salt and pepper beard creating a striking image in his three thousand dollar suit.
He cleared his throat and looked at Jordan for a moment before looking at Mary. "Has Jordan ever behaved irresponsibly?"
Mary shook her head. "Never."
"To your knowledge, has Jordan ever taken illegal drugs."
"Never."
"Abused alcohol?"
"Never."
"Exhibited an addiction to gambling?"
"Never."
"Do you know your nephew well?"
"Very well."
"Then, in brief, can you please describe your knowledge of Mr Alden's intellectual abilities?"
Mary took a deep breath, happy to have the opportunity to say these things in front of Jordan. "Jordie is probably the most intelligent person I have ever met. He can make anything. He can solve almost any problem put before him. He reads more difficult books than I am capable of understanding and he reads them quicker than I would have thought possible. He is kind, empathetic and honest. He has never shown anger or malice towards anyone. He is a smart, decent human being who doesn't deserve to be treated the way that Ms Cochran and her cohort, Mr Leary, are treating him."
Cochran rose, but the judge was too fast for her. "Sit down, Ms Cochran and don't say a word - not even 'I'm sorry,' or you'll be spending the night in the cells downstairs."
She mumbled something under her breath as she sat back down.
"I think I have completed my questions, Your Honor." Frank said.
"The witness may step down," the judge waved her off of the stand.
"Do you need to speak to the other witness, Ms Cochran?" The judge asked, his patience reaching an end.
"Yes, your honor," said the other lawyer, but her voice was filled with contempt.
"Mr Alden, please take the stand," the judge tried to not sound threatening.
Jordan stood and walked to the stand. It couldn't have been more than twenty steps away, but it seemed like it was miles away. He felt smaller and weaker than he'd ever felt in his life and his body was charged with fear.
When at last he took the stand, Lawyer Cochran asked, "Mr Alden, have you ever managed a one hundred million dollar account before?"
"No," Jordan was also coached to be concise.
"Have you ever managed a household account or a checking account?"
"I have a checking account."
"And what is the current balance of that account?"
Jordan thought for a moment. "About forty six dollars."
The lawyer smirked. "Forty six dollars. You have only managed to accumulate forty six dollars into your account, but you think you are qualified to handle a hundred million dollars?"
"No," Jordie said without hesitation.
Frank rose, but the judge pointed at him and stopped him.
"So you admit that you cannot handle an estate the size of the one left to you by your parents?"
"Of course not," Jordan said. "That is why I was relying on my own attorney to set up a trust with another law firm."
Good answer and everyone knew it.
"Mr Alden, my law firm is one of the best in the country. Why not leave your estate in our care."
The judge looked at Frank, knowing he was itching to speak, and held up a finger as if telling Frank that he was giving Cochran enough rope to hang herself.
"Because your colleague, Mr Leary, insulted my aunt and insulted me. He was impolite and unhelpful and when my lawyer asked him for assistance, he instead tried to keep my parents' estate from me."
Mary was shocked that Jordan had spoken with so much confidence.
"Do you think that, perhaps, Mr Leary was just trying to look out for your best interests?"
"No, Ms Cochran. He was trying to take control of my parents estate."
"Well, I think that we must agree to disagree on that matter," She smirked some more. "And, just as an exercise in the hypothetical, if you were to gain complete control of the inheritance, what would you do with it? Buy a Corvette? Go to Disney World? Maybe hire Taylor Swift to sing at your birthday party? A hundred million dollars is a lot of money, Mr Alden. How would you spend it?"
Jordan looked at the floor near the lawyers feet and said, "First, I would put fifty million into a family trust so that my aunt, my cousins and I would always have enough money to live on."
She nodded. "And the other fifty million? How would you use that? Pretty, designer dresses? Expensive shoes? French lingerie? Lots of pretty little things to make you feel like a lady?"
Frank was burning up with rage, but the judge still held him a bay. Something was happening and Frank wasn't sure what it was.
"No." Jordie still looked at the floor.
"Then what, Mr Alden?"
Jordan's eyes raised slowly until he was looking directly into hers. "My lawyer and I have already drawn up the outline for another trust fund to benefit women in the areas in and around Hardwick, Massachusetts. A fund that would help women to go to college, get vocational training, help unwed teenaged mothers finish their high school education. Teach girls to sew and read and write and become productive members of their communities and to give them the opportunities to have happy and stable lives. Our trust would be dedicated to making the world a better place so that good people can thrive and bullies like Mr Leary and you won't have the power to operate with impunity and make people's lives miserable just so that you can make money off of the hard work and death of others. That's what I'm planning to do with my parents' estate."
The smirk was firmly planted on Cochran's smug face. "Your Honor, I request that you instruct the witness to not editorialize when giving testimony."
"No," the judge said as he wrote something in his notes.
"Your Honor..."
"Ms Cochran," the judge interrupted, "I am going to advise you to sit down and load your papers into your briefcase. Your part of this hearing is completed. If you'd like to stay and hear Mr Middlebrook's questions, you are free to do so, but if you so much as cough, I'll hold you in contempt."
She stared at him, mouth agape. She wanted to speak, but was afraid that the little pissant of a judge might actually be stupid enough to hold her in contempt.
"Three seconds, Ms Cochran. One. Two." She scurried to her seat as quickly as she could and sat, shuffling her papers into her briefcase.
"Mr Middlebrook. Your witness."
Frank stood and smiled a small, but amused smile as he moved to the center of the floor. "Jordie. How did your parents die?"
"They were doctors and they went to China last year to work with Doctors Without Boarders. When the Covid-19 outbreak began, they tried to help control it and save the lives of the people near them. They contracted the disease and died."
Frank let that sink in for a moment. "I'm very sorry, Jordie."
Jordan nodded. "Thank you."
"And did you love your parents, Jordie," he asked, expecting the obvious answer.
Jordan thought for a moment. "I think so."
"You don't know if you loved your parents?"
Jordan pondered for a moment or two before answering. "It's complicated. My parents were very focused on their jobs and I'm not the easiest person to love."
Mary felt the tears forming in her eyes as she heard Jordie revisit this part of his life.
"Why do you say that you're not easy to love, Jordie?" Frank asked.
"My parents were very success oriented and I'm... I'm not even a successful male. They wanted a football hero, or a musical prodigy. I'm not like that. I'm weird and small and smart, not a good combination and not an easy package to love. I think that they loved me in their own, kind of distant way, and I think that's how they taught me to love them, too."
The judge, court reporter, Frank and Mary stared at Jordan in shock as Cochran rolled her eyes at this obviously planned theatrical performance.
Finally, the judge asked, "Anything else, Mr Middlebrook?"
Frank looked at the judge and thought for a moment. What else needed to be said? "No, Your Honor."
The judge looked at Jordan. "Please return to your seat."
Jordan nodded and took a seat next to Mary, who took his hand in hers and squeezed it tightly. She smiled sadly at him.
"According to the laws of The Commonwealth of Massachusetts," the judge said in an officious tone, "I have seventy two hours to render my verdict, but," he glared at Cochran, "I feel that one party in this proceeding has blatantly abused the laws of this Commonwealth to try to use this courtroom, MY COURTROOM, to extort a young man's lawful inheritance from him. Ms Cochran, your firm will just have to get by without Mr Alden's money and I must say that I found your performance in this courtroom today absolutely disgraceful. I don't know who the bigwigs are that facilitated this hearing for your firm, but I am a fair an impartial judge - not an easily influenced, novice like Judge Browning, who, I suspect, you had made some arrangements with ahead of time."
Cochran shifted uncomfortably in her seat.
The judge continued. "My decision is this - There is no cause for an appeal of Judge Lang's decision. I will not allow this case to be reheard." He banged his gavel. "Court is dismissed."
Frank stood and said, "Thank you, Your Honor. Your Honor! May I speak with you in your chambers, please?"
The judge sighed. "Mr Middlebrook, I just found in your favor..."
"Yes, Your Honor, but this is in regards to another matter."
Another sigh. "Alright, then, but put on a mask before you come into my chambers and be quick, please." He disappeared into his office.
He turned and smiled at Mary and Jordan. "I'm going to speak to him about Amanda and Susan. Obviously, he sees that this is all a sham. Maybe he can help with the Bar Association. I will talk to you soon."
Mary and Jordan nodded.
"Thank you, so much!" Mary said with great relief in her voice.
Don't thank me," he smiled. "Jordan here did all the heavy lifting. I just stood there. I have to run. Congratulations."
"That's great, mom!" Frances said into the phone. "Everything is fine here."
There was a knock at the door.
"Hang on," Frances said, nervous that more trouble was coming their way. She walked to the door and spoke into the phone. "There's someone at the door. I don't know, mom, I haven't gotten there, yet. Oh. It's just a FedEx guy. Nothing to worry about. Ok. Bye."
She disconnected the call and opened the door. "Hi."
The handsome delivery man smiled. "Hi. I have a delivery for 'Lang Lissa and it requires a signature."
Frances blinked. "Lang Lissa? There's no one here by that name. Do you have the right address?"
The delivery man looked at the package. "This is 183, right?"
"Yeah, but..."
"Is that for me?" Melissa called as she hustled down the stairs.
"No," Frances looked behind her. "It's for..." then she thought 'Melissa Lang' - 'Lang Lissa.' "Oh, sorry. Yeah. It's for you." She stepped to the side and shook her head.
As Melissa approached the door, Frances whispered, "You're not very good at staying hidden, are you?"
Melissa smiled. "Something's can't be stopped by a pandemic." Then she turned to the delivery man. "I'm Lang."
"Sign here, please," the man smiled and, after she signed his tablet, she took a small box from him and closed the door.
"Another delivery?" Robbie asked as she came down the stairs. "FedEx is going to be busy as long as you're staying here."
"You know," Melissa chuckled, "I usually have two or three deliveries a day back home. Amazon and I are good friends. I'm not sure how you guys are getting by without shopping therapy."
"We only buy what we need, when we need it," Frances said, a little sternly.
"Well, that's just sick," Melissa joked. "Regardless, I need this. It's a gift for Jordie." She quickly opened the packing box and removed a robin's egg blue ring box from within.
Frances eyed the box and glanced at Robbie.
"Is that what I think it is?" Robbie asked, excited, but a bit confused.
Melissa couldn't help but grin as she opened the box to reveal a fairly large diamond ring in a simple setting.
"Oh, my God!" Robbie clapped her hands, excited.
"You're not seriously going to ask Jordie to marry you this soon?" Frances was amazed at the idea.
"No, no, no," Melissa laughed. "I'm asking Jordie to... well... in the words of any random romance novelist, I'm asking Jordie to become my 'betrothed.'"
"Your fiancé?" Robbie asked.
"Yes," Melissa said. "My fiancé."
"So you are asking him to marry you," Frances was confused.
"Well... yeah, but not right now. I'm just kind of making a commitment to him and hoping he'll want to make a commitment to me. That's cool, isn't it?"
"Wicked cool!" Robbie said. "Jordie's going to be thrilled."
Melissa looked at Frances. "Franny?"
"Oh..." Frances shrugged. "I guess it's fine."
"Fine?"
"Well... not fine... Good. I mean it's a good thing, but..."
"But what?" Melissa was a little hurt.
"Melissa... Jordie's really delicate. I mean, just a handful of weeks ago he couldn't even look us in the eyes. He's come a long way, but... he's still a delicate person. If you're at all uncertain that you're going to follow through with this..."
Melissa held up her hand to stop her. "Franny, I understand that you guys are protective of Jordie and, believe me, I understand that, but YOU need to understand that Jordie is a grown up and he can make up his mind for himself. Now, as for me, I am absolutely certain that I want to be with Jordie forever, so I'm willing to tell that to the world that by giving him this ring. Now, Jordie, the adult, can say yes and make me very happy, or he can say no and I will spend as long as it takes for me to 'woo' him into being my..." she sputtered and searched for the word.
"Your wife?" Robbie asked.
"I don't know," Melissa laughed. "I never really thought about it. My wife, my husband, my partner... whatever, I don't care. I just want Jordie to be with me forever. Ok?"
Frances nodded and smiled. "Ok."
Melissa smiled and hugged her. "Thank you."
Then she turned to Robbie and asked. "Ok?"
Robbie smiled. "Are you kidding. I can't believe how romantic all of this is!" She hugged Melissa, excitedly.
Just then, a UPS truck pulled into the driveway.
"Are you expecting more?" Frances chuckled.
Melissa smiled. "I just want to make tonight special for my Jordie."
"Oh, that's great! I'm so relieved, Susan!" Mary said into the phone that was running through the Bluetooth connection in her car. "Frank did a great job for Jordie and me, too. So, you and Amanda are both ok? No chance of being disbarred?"
"We're both good," Susan sounded very happy, "but from what Frank told Amanda, several other people may be losing their licenses over all of this brouhaha. Apparently, the judge that oversaw your hearing was pretty ticked off at the other lawyer and he's filing a complaint with the bar association against her and Leary and several members of the bar review board. There could be quite a bit of fallout over this, but we're all safe and sound and as of this moment, your nephew is worth more than one hundred million dollars."
Mary reached over and squeezed Jordan's hand as he sat in the passenger seat.
"We'll start working on his charitable trust this week," Susan continued. "If he needs to access any money, for any reason, though, it's all his."
Mary glanced at Jordan who shrugged and shook his head indicating that he didn't expect he'd need anything in a hurry.
"I think he's good for now, Susie. We're nearly home, now. Why don't you come to dinner tonight. We'll grill something and eat outside. How does that sound?"
"I'd love to, Mare, but Amanda is with me here at the office. We won't be done until at least six or six thirty."
"Perfect!" Mary insisted. "We'll have everything ready to go for seven. I'm sure Amanda will be happy to see Melissa, too, although I doubt that Jordie will be happy to see Melissa leave."
Jordan's head snapped to his left and he looked at Mary with realization and fear on his face.
"I doubt that, too," Susan laughed. "See you at seven."
The call ended.
They drove on in silence for a few minutes before Mary said, "You knew that Melissa would be leaving when this was over, Jordie, right?"
"I guess," Jordie chocked out. "I just didn't expect it to happen so quickly."
Mary squeezed his hand again. "If it's meant to be, Jordie, then you guys will work it out. Ok?"
Frances and Robbie hustled from the picnic table to the car as Mary and Jordie pulled in. They'd been setting the table for late dinner.
France hurried to her mother and Robbie hurried to Jordan. Hugs and expressions of relief were exchanged as they walked towards the picnic table and the house beyond.
Mary sat at the table to tell Robbie and Frances about the hearing, but Jordan continued on towards the back door.
"Jordie, honey," Mary called after him, "come sit with us for a few minutes."
Jordan glanced at the door then back to his aunt. "I just want to see Melissa. I'll be right out."
"Melissa's not in there, Jordie." Frances said.
"Where is she?" Jordan looked toward the barn.
"We don't know," Robbie shrugged her shoulders. "As soon as her mom called and said that everything was ok, she said she had to do something and just... left."
Jordan could feel his heart breaking. He'd put every ounce of love he had into loving Melissa and now she was leaving - no - she was already gone. What an idiot he'd been.
"Are you ok, Jordie?" Frances asked.
He nodded. "I think I just need a nap." He disappeared into the house.
It was later in the afternoon when Jordan was awaken by the sounds of people outside. He could hear Aunt Mary, Frances, Robbie, Susan and Amanda all laughing and sounding happy. He touched his face, which was still wet from crying. He sniffled back a few tears that remained in his eyes and rolled over, determined to never get out of bed again.
"Frank, you found us!" He heard Aunt Mary shout, followed by Frank's reply.
"It certainly wasn't easy." Everyone laughed at that. "My God, I didn't know you could travel this far west of Boston and not be in Michigan, for crying out loud."
More laughs.
Obviously, Frank Middlebrook had been invited to dinner, too. Everyone seemed to want to celebrate. Jordie just wanted to die. Melissa hadn't even said goodbye.
"Aren't you getting up?" A voice asked quietly from the doorway.
Jordan turned. "Melissa? You came back?"
She scrunched up her face. "What? Of course I came back, you silly goose? Where would I go without you?"
Jordan was confused. "They said you'd gone."
"Yeah, I had somethings to do, Jordie, I didn't leave. Heck, I didn't even take my car."
Jordan jumped out of the bed and ran to her, hugging her tightly, his head squeezing tightly to her breasts. "Oh, thank God. I thought you'd left for good."
She kissed the top of his head. "I'm never leaving you, baby."
They hugged for a good minute or more before Melissa pulled herself free of him and took a good look at him. "Look what you've done. Your dress is a mess from sleeping in it. All wrinkled. That's not like you. It's a good thing that I got you a present."
"You did?"
Melissa grinned, stepped into the hallway for a moment, then returned with a soft, yellow dress hanging on a hanger. "I bought you this. I saw it in an online catalog and I just thought it screamed 'Jordie.' Will you wear it to dinner for me?"
It was a lovely dress. A classic shirt dress, sleeveless, a flat collar with tiny, orange flowers embroidered on it, a buttoned bodice with a faux, elastic belt and a pleated skirt that, even on the hanger, held its bell shape.
"Do you like it?" Melissa asked.
"It's very pretty," Jordan smiled, "but if you'd shown it to me, I could have made it myself."
Melissa smiled, now. "Then it wouldn't have been much of a gift, now would it?" She hung the dress from the top of the closet door. "I'll get out of here and let you get dressed, but Robbie is going to French braid your hair for you when you're done dressing, ok?"
"A French braid?" Jordie seemed surprised. He only wore his hair in French braids at bed time, as a rule.
"It would mean a lot to me," Melissa ran her fingers along his soft, apple cheek.
"Ok," he shrugged. "I need to do my makeup again, too. "
She kissed his forehead. "Then I'd better leave you to it." And she left.
Jordan took off his wrinkled dress and laid it on his bed, then he stood in his bra and panties and looked at the dress Melissa had given him. He did like it, a lot. It was a bit 'retro' in style. It looked just a little like something that a housewife would have worn in one of those old nineteen fifties, black and white TV shows his mother had always liked so much. Very soft and classically feminine, but simple - kind of like Jordie felt when he was near Melissa.
The dress was very soft, obviously expensive. It was very, very pretty.
He took the hanger down and held the dress in front of him as he looked in the mirror. Somehow, over the past few weeks and months, yellow had become his signature color and this was a perfect shade. Not garish, a soft tone, very shear in the bodice. There was no way that a woman could wear this dress without her bra showing through. That was a little dangerous, a little sexy. Yes, it was a retro-housewife's dress, but it was sexy, too. He liked that. He liked it a lot.
"Ahem," Robbie cleared her throat in a cartoonish way from the doorway.
Jordan turned and blushed. "Sorry. I was just looking at my new dress."
Robbie smiled. "It's a beautiful dress, Jordie. Come on, let me do your hair and I'll help you do your makeup and get dressed."
Jordan returned the dress to the closet door. "Let me get a robe..."
"Jordie," Robbie laughed, "just take a seat. Just be my little sister and let me get you ready for your big night."
That confused Jordie, but he sat before asking, "Why is this my big night?"
She smiled down onto the top of his head as she began braiding. "Because you won, Jordie. You're a very rich guy, now. Everyone wants to celebrate with you."
"We're all rich, Robbie."
She bent and kissed the crown of his head. "I know, Jordie, but tonight is just for you."
When his hair was braided and the end of the braid adorned with a hair tie made of an artificial sun flower to match the dress, Robbie took some fingernail polish remover and began cleaning the old polish from his nails. It was at that point that Jordan realized that there was a whole tray of makeup products on his dressing table that had not been there that morning. Apparently, Melissa had worked with Robbie to have everything ready.
"Jordie?" Robbie asked, shaking Jordan from his thoughts.
"Huh?"
"Do you like this?"
"Like what? Having you do my nails?"
Robbie looked at her pretty little cousin, his auburn hair in bangs and braided so prettily. His little lace bra and matching panties. His small, weak shoulders. "No, Jordie. Do you like being a girl?"
Jordan's eyes wandered slowly from his hands to Robbie's eyes. "I'm not a girl, Robbie. I'll never be a girl. I'm never losing that part of me."
In a way, Jordan's response actually made it a little harder for Robbie to continue, but she had to be sure before he went outside where Melissa was waiting with the ring. "I know, but... When this all started, I think that I had more fun getting you dressed up than almost anything I'd ever done in my whole life. I mean... I've always loved you as our cousin and all, but we were never really close like cousins should be. It was just so much fun to be with you and dress you up and have you be one of the girls, you know?"
Jordan smiled. "I know. I liked it too."
Robbie almost looked ashamed as she continued. "I'm just afraid that... that maybe we... forced this on you. We didn't, did we."
Robbie concentrated on Jordan's fingers and waited for an answer. And she waited. And she waited.
Finally, with his free hand, Jordan reached across the gap between them and gently raised Robbie's chin so that she looked him in the eyes. "Robbie, you didn't force anything on to me. You helped me to find out who I really am. If I hadn't come here, I would have lived an unhappy life of never knowing... me."
A little tear formed in the corner of Robbie's eye.
Jordan smiled and continued. "Remember what I was like in March when I got here? I couldn't look you in the eye, I couldn't have touched you like this, I could barely even smile. I was an ugly, self-loathing toad..."
"Jordie, never say..."
"... but look at me now, Robbie. I'm happy. And being happy helps me look better and smile more and love. I could never have loved anyone before, Robbie. Now, I love Auntie and Franny and Melissa... and I love you. You're not just my cousin, Robbie, you're the best and closet friend I have. That I'll ever have. You made it possible for me to be me." He leaned forward and kissed cheek. "And I love you for it. Thank you."
Robbie put the nail polish remover aside and hugged her cousin as tears rolled down her face. "Oh, Jordie, I love you, too." Then she started laughing. "Great. Now I'm going to have to do my makeup all over again, too. We're never going to get outside!"
"Are they ever coming out?" Melissa was bursting with impatience. She hadn't planned for everyone to be here for this, but it had all worked out perfectly. Mary, Frances and Robbie were there from Jordan's family, their friend Susan was there, too, and then her mother and her Uncle Frank had suddenly joined the guest list while she'd been out dealing with her surprises. Everyone was here except, of course, Jordan. Melissa had asked Robbie to get him ready because Robbie was always so quick at these things. It had been nearly an hour, though. "What are they doing in there?"
Her Uncle Frank stood and lead her to an Adirondack chair and said, "Sit down and be patient, Lissa. If there's one thing you have to learn about dating a beautiful girl, it's that you must be patient. Beauty takes time. Relax."
Melissa nodded and let out a frustrated sigh. Then looked at her uncle, "You know that Jordie isn't a girl, right?"
Frank smiled. "Yes, she is sweetheart. You and I both know that. She may not be female, but she is a very smart and pretty girl, and with you as a role model, she is going to be a mighty woman - just like you. I'm very happy that you found her."
"Thanks, Uncle Frank," Melissa smiled.
Just then, the old screen door slammed and everyone turned to see Robbie walking beside a vision of feminine beauty in a timeless, yellow dress and tight, perfect braids.
Mary and Frances gasped as they caught sight of him.
Susan smiled.
Amanda let out a quiet 'Aww.'
"See," Frank whispered to Melissa, "good things come to those who wait."
Melissa stood and the flowered dress that she wore, a dress that had been made by the love of her life, a dress that had, per her request, had subtle pockets sewn into it, fell beautifully around her athletic form.
As she started to walk towards Jordan, Frank stopped her. "Wait. Let her make her entrance. I think I know what's happening here. Let the bride to be make her entrance."
Melissa looked sheepishly at her uncle, his eyes playful on his smiling, dark face. "Am I that transparent?"
"Just to me," he said as he kissed her forehead. "Now. She's made her entrance. Now, you can go take her hand and ask her."
Melissa took a moment to get her smile under control, then slowly walked to Jordan, took his hands in hers and whispered, "You are the most beautiful thing that God has ever created."
Jordan wanted to thank her for saying that and for the dress, but, for some reason, all he could do was blush. Something was happening all around him. He couldn't figure out what it was, but he knew it was something wonderful.
Melissa kissed his cheek and smiled sweetly. Then she turned to everyone. "I'm glad that we're all together today, because I have something I want to say and I want everyone to hear it."
Everyone got very quiet and looked at her and suddenly, she felt self conscience. Maybe this wasn't a great idea. Oh, well, she'd started this, there was no backing out now.
Melissa cleared her throat and continued. "I know this might seem impulsive, but... well... A few weeks ago, I met the sweetest, most beautiful person I have ever met and, contrary to everything that I had always believed, I learned that love at first sight is a very real and very powerful thing." She looked at Jordan and could not believe how beautiful he was. "Jordie, I hope that you don't think that I'm rushing things, but," she knelt down on one knee and pulled the small, robin's egg blue box from her pocket, "will you accept this ring and agree to marry me, someday, when you're ready?"
She opened the box revealing the tasteful, but obviously costly, ring. Jordan's free hand shot to his mouth as Susan and Amanda and especially Mary, covered their own mouths, caught up in the romance, concern and the abruptness of this proposal.
Jordan shook and gasped and tried to remember how to think, how to breathe, how to speak, but none of that worked. He just shook and shook and shook until finally he was able to start nodding his head, just a little, but eventually that turned into a full blown nod and soon he was gasping, "Yes! Yes! Yes!"
Quickly, because she sensed that Jordan may pass out if she didn't move things along, Melissa slid the ring onto the fourth finger of his left hand, then stood and embraced him, as much to calm him down as to show her love.
Frank was the first to start clapping, but the others joined quickly.
Jordan buried his face in Melissa's chest and shoulders and he shook and he cried and he shook and he cried and he whispered, "I love you so much," over and over and over.
"I love you, too, Jordie," Melissa assured him. "I'm going to let you go, now. Can you stand on your own?"
He nodded and felt the pressure of her hug lessen slowly as Melissa let him go.
Robbie was the first to grab Jordan's hand. "Let me see it! Oh, Jordie, it's just perfect and it fits so well!"
As Melissa received a hug from her uncle, she turned to Robbie and said, "I tried one of my pinkie rings on Jordie the other day. It seemed to fit his ring finger perfectly, so that's what I ordered. If it needs adjusting, we can get it sized."
"No way," Jordan said through tears of joy. "It fits perfectly and this ring is never leaving my finger."
As the shock of the situation lessened, Frances and the older women rose and congratulated each of the brides to be.
"So," Amanda said, after hugging them both, "you're going to wait until you've gotten your career going before the actual wedding?"
"We're going to wait until Jordie's ready to marry me," Melissa smiled. "As for a career, I think I have one all planned out?"
"Really?" Amanda raised her eyebrows. "What is your plan?"
"Jordan and I have been discussing how best to help the women of this area, and maybe, eventually, in areas beyond Hardwick, and I sent an email to Melinda Gates to ask her how she and Bill Gates set up their foundation. She gave us lots of great ideas and, since my education is all in business and investments, she offered to tutor me over the Internet. Jordie has asked me to be the director of the charitable branch of the Family trust. That will be my career."
"You emailed Melissa Gates!?" Frances asked. "Bill Gates' wife? One of the richest women in the world?"
"Sure," Melissa smiled. "Why not?"
Amanda smiled. "That sounds very rewarding. Let's talk to our lawyers and see if we can increase the size of that endowment through our family's trust, too."
"Count me in!" Frank shouted. "I'd love to help. You can't take it with you, you know!"
Everyone laughed.
"Well, let's not move too quickly," Mary said as she hugged Jordan, then released him and smiled at his pretty, tear soaked face. "I just got my Jordie back. I don't want to lose him too quickly."
"Yeah, about that..." Melissa grinned.
"What?" Frances shook her head. "You can't have another surprise up your sleeve."
"Speaking of combining family resources..." she pulled a small, gift wrapped package from her other pocket and handed it to Jordan.
"What's this?"
"Open it and see."
Everyone watched as Jordan ripped the flowered paper open and then removed the cover from the small box within. He pushed back the paper and pulled out a small chain with a brass letter 'J' at one end and a ring with a key on it on the other. "A key?" Jordan asked.
"Everyone look down the hill, for a moment," Melissa requested. "What do you see?"
"The center of town," Frances said.
"The library," Mary said.
"Some buildings and the road," Amanda said.
"Keenan's farm," Susan said.
"Bingo!" Melissa laughed.
"What?" Mary asked. "What do mean?"
"Well," Melissa grinned, "one of the reasons I needed a new computer was to look into a few things about this town. I did a pretty extensive search and I found out who the best realtor in this area was and I got in touch with her. I told her where I was staying and I asked if there were any houses for sale nearby. When I told her that I wasn't concerned about the price, she told me that since Mr Keenan had passed away a few years ago, Mrs Keenan had been considering selling the farm. So, I told her I was interested and this morning she told me what the family wanted for the property. Then, when you called and said that Uncle Frank had gotten everything resolved, I called the realtor and said I wanted to make an offer. I went down there this afternoon and I looked at the house. It's really beautiful inside, filled with beautiful antiques. So, I offered them thirty thousand dollars over asking price if I could keep the furniture. They agreed. I called the bank and had them transfer the money immediately. It won't be official until tomorrow, but from now on, it's Jordie's house."
Everyone was shocked and they stood silent for a few moments before Jordan gasped, "Melissa... that's unbelievable."
She put her arm around him. "Jordie, I want you to be mine, but I would never take you away from your family. They love you too much. Now, we can all be together. Mom, if you want to move west, there's a pretty little cottage on the property that I plan to have renovated for you and Franny and Robbie, when you're ready, we'll build houses for you, too, if you want. Uncle Frank, if you ever decide to leave the city, there's plenty of room for you, too. See, this way we'll have what Jordie and I both need the most. Family, love and above all, each other."
The End
Author's Addendum: This brings Jordie's story right up to the present time. I promise, I will revisit this beautiful boy in the future and we'll find out how life turns out for Jordie and Melissa.