Ethan’s World

by Daphne Childress

Ethan Martin and his mother live a simple life in a small Southern town... with a twist: She makes dresses to pay the bills and he helps out as best he can.
 

Chapter Thirty-Four: The Newest Teenager Around

Ethan gets a surprise. Well, more than one, actually...
 

Ethan woke earlier than usual, his body humming with an energy that had nothing to do with the sunlight leaking past the curtains. Today, at long last, he was thirteen. No longer just twelve, which felt like nothing at all—a forgotten age wedged between “little boy” and “all grown up”—but thirteen!

He slipped out of bed, stretched, and studied himself in the mirror. His reflection looked the same, but he felt taller somehow. He was, after all, becoming a man.

Thirteen, he thought. That even sounds older. Capable. A little daring, even.

“I wonder if Aunt DeeDee might let me sit behind the wheel of her muscle car,” he said to his reflection. “That would make it official.”

He did a couple of body builder poses, then laughed. Why do guys do that? So stupid. He shook his head, ran his fingers through his scruffy hair until it lay flat, and got dressed, picking out a clean pair of jeans and a decent shirt instead of the first thing at hand.

Today mattered. For once, the day would be about him. Not about Emily, not about dresses or bows or fussy chores in frilly aprons. He pictured cake, DeeDee and Dani dropping by—Dani with one of her sideways jokes, of course—maybe Aunt Penelope fawning over how quickly he’d grown. Some presents, perhaps—maybe that new video game he’d hinted about, or maybe a skateboard like his cousin’s. Whatever the case, it would be a whole day to be celebrated as Ethan, the boy who was on his way to becoming a man.

“This is going to be a great day,” he said aloud to his reflection. “Yep, it’s gonna be a really, really good day!”

He strode into the kitchen, the smell of coffee already in the air. His mother was there, bright as always in one of her handmade dresses, lipstick, her hair done up, pouring herself a cup. She turned to him with a smile that felt—well, suspiciously sweet.

“Happy birthday, darling,” she sang, kissing his lips. “Thirteen! My goodness. How is that possible?”

“I know, Mom. I’m finally a teenager.” Ethan grinned, chest swelling. “You know, I was just thinking how this is going to be a great day. Y’know, I thought I’d ask Aunt DeeDee—”

“Honey, before you go any further…” Colleen’s her expression softened in that particular way that made him nervous—too soft, too careful. “I’m so sorry to spring this on you,” her voice heavy with exaggerated sympathy, her tone suspiciously sweet. “The sewing seminar in Oakridge was rescheduled, and it’s today. I just found out last night, so your birthday celebration will have to wait. I’m sorry, baby, but I have to leave in the next little bit.”

The words landed like stones in his stomach. “Wait? But Mom, it’s my… birthday. I thought—”

“I know, darling, I know.” She set her coffee down and slid something covered with a napkin across the countertop toward him. “Life isn’t always fair, is it? Here, I thought this would hold you until I got back. I baked it fresh this morning, along with two dozen more for the ladies at the seminar.”

Lifting the napkin Ethan discovered a single cupcake, its frosting slightly smudged, with one solitary candle stuck in the middle. His mother lit it with a match and set it on the table as though it were the crown jewel of some royal feast.

“Make a wish,” she said gently.

Ethan sat, staring at it. A cupcake. One candle. That was his thirteenth birthday? He drew in a breath, blew out the flame, and muttered, “Thirteen isn’t different at all.”

His mother’s hand smoothed over his hair. “Oh, don’t fret, darling,” she said in that cryptic way she had. “I’m sure thirteen will be very different indeed.”

 

* * *
 

Ethan sulked at the table, prodding the crumb of cupcake with his fork. He had half a mind to crawl back into bed and let the day go by without him.

But Colleen’s voice, lilting and practical at once, cut through his gloom. “Darling, while I’m gone to Oakridge, why don’t you go keep Auntie Penelope company? She’s worried you might get lonesome here in the house all day. You could even serve her tea.”

His head snapped up. “What? It’s my birthday and I’m serving tea?”

Colleen only smiled, as though his protests were a mild breeze that could be waved away. “You pour so carefully, and she does so love your company.”

Ethan pouted. “I guess.”

“And since you’re not going anywhere else—” his mother said with a mischievous grin— “why don’t you go upstairs and change into something nice. You know how fussy Auntie can be. You could take a shower and I’ll lay out something for you to wear. Okay? Be sure to wash your hair while you’re at it.”

Ethan blinked, caught between bristling at serving tea and puzzling over her insistence that he take a shower and wash his hair, of all things. He glanced down at his shirt and jeans, and realized that they would soon be replaced by something far less masculine.

“But, Mom—”

She was already headed to her sewing room. “Run along now. Use the good conditioner. Your hair looks so shabby sometimes. I’ve been thinking, it could look quite nice if we let it grow out a little more, then get a nice trim—”

Reluctantly, Ethan trudged upstairs and did as he was told. In the mirror, his damp hair clung in loose strands across his forehead and over his ears. He buffed it dry, wrapped the towel around his body, tucking it under his arms, then padded barefoot to Emily’s room. There he sat patiently at the vanity while his mother fussed over his hair, brushing it smooth, parting it smartly on the side and sliding a small pearl-tipped hair clip above his ear to keep everything in place.

“There,” she said with satisfaction, stepping back. “Our birthday boy looks neat as a pin.”

“Boy,” Ethan muttered under his breath, though the hair clip said otherwise.

Colleen led him to the bed where his outfit awaited him: a pastel yellow tea dress trimmed with a vintage Chantilly lace collar laid out across the bed. There was also a new matching bra and panty set—in soft ivory—and a pair of knee-high stockings with little lemon yellow bows at the top.

“You like?” His mother gave him the I know you do look, prompting him to nod, though a bit reluctantly. “I just finished that frock yesterday while you were at school. You look so good in that shade of yellow, I couldn’t resist.”

Ethan bit his lip. He was on the verge of tears, he was so mad. Wearing another dress, on his birthday? And a bra and panties? He wanted to scream—but then again, he could see the work she’d put into the dress and didn’t want to hurt her feelings.

Still… on my birthday?

“It— it’s very nice, Mother.” He tried to sound thankful, but his sigh belied his true feelings. “Thank you…”

“You’re very welcome, my love.” Colleen gave him a quick peck on the lips, smiling sweetly. “Well, I’ll leave you to it, then. Don’t dawdle. I need to leave right away and Auntie Penelope is expecting you to be over soon. You know how impatient she gets when she’s hungry.”

“Yes, Mother.”

“Oh, and Ethan?”

“Yes, Mother?”

“Your lips looked chapped. Balm please, and thank you.”

By now Ethan was too resigned to argue. He pouted as he pulled out his chapstick and the little mirror he always had with him and did his due diligence—his birthday was turning out to be just like any other day. Bras and panties and dresses and hanging out with old ladies. Ballet slippers and hair clips and “sissy chapstick” as Dani called it. And who knew what else. He typically didn’t mind so much—he actually kind of enjoyed the oddness of it all—but he’d thought today of all days would be different. More focused on what he wanted, or at least on what he’d expected. Being a boy, turning thirteen, being a teenager, practically a grown up. That apparently wasn’t going to happen.

Stupid birthday, he thought angrily. I don’t even care anymore. Just forget about it! Australia sounds pretty good about now.

A short while later he arrived downstairs, his stockings tickling his thighs, his yellow satin ballet slippers making quiet little squeaks on the kitchen tile. The air was oddly warm and smelled of vanilla and lemon and his mother’s perfume.

“Perfect,” Colleen said, smoothing the bodice and brushing a wrinkle from the skirt. “Just perfect. Don’t you just love the lace around the collar?”

“It is very nice, Mother,” Ethan replied sullenly.

Colleen grinned. “I just knew you’d like it.” She let her fingers trace along his collar bone. “I see you’re wearing the necklace Mrs. Jackson gave you.” She then took his wrist and lifted it up—the tiny sewing machine and thimble twinkled in the morning sunlight. “And your charm bracelet? How come, my love?”

Ethan touched the angel pendant at his throat. “I don’t know. This dress… well, it just… seemed right.”

“Well, good choice.” Colleen lightly touched his pearl hair clip, then gave him a light kiss on the lips, followed by a little wink. “Mmm, strawberry!” She then gave him a tight hug. “Did I ever tell you how lucky I am to have such a sweet and pretty son?”

“Not today, I guess—”

“Well, consider yourself told.” She squeezed him so hard he could hardly breathe. “My pretty boy, all grown up.”

Ethan felt a queasiness in his stomach. He wanted to be mad, things weren’t going the way he’d expected… how he wanted… but his mom was making it difficult, the way she was acting. He understood about the seminar and delaying his birthday and all. It wasn’t the first time he had to change his plans, that was for sure.

The business comes first, he told himself. We got those bills to pay…

Just as he was warming up to the idea that things weren’t as bad as he thought, Colleen had to say this: “Oh, and do me a favor, please. sweetheart. Would you mind cleaning up before you go over to Auntie Penelope’s?”

Ethan’s eyes went wide when she showed him the pile of bowls and pans in the sink. “I hate to spring all this on you on today of all days, but it can’t be helped. Like I said, I had to bake all those cupcakes for the class.” She gave him a little nudge. “Oh, don’t look like that. I’ll make it up to you when I get back, I promise, darling.”

“Sure, Mom, I suppose—”

Before he could answer, she slipped a white apron with a yellow eyelet trim over his head, spun him around and tied it snug around his slender waist. She kissed the side of his neck, prompting him to squirm. “You’d best get to it. Auntie’s expecting you soon as you’re done.” She glanced at the clock. “And I have to leave, too, or I’ll be late. Have fun, my love!”

And with that, Ethan was alone. With a pile of dirty dishes, a feeling of regret and his dignity in shreds.

“This the worst day of my life,” he muttered as he slipped on his rubber gloves and turned on the hot water….

The truth was, Ethan had mastered the art of dishwashing long ago, and it took him no time at all to get the bowls washed, dried spotless and put away. The same with the pans, though he thought it curious that only one muffin pan was there, and it looked like it had hardly been used. Regardless, he had the kitchen in proper order in record time and was about to take off his apron and head over to Penelope’s when the screen door slammed open.

DeeDee appeared—smoke-tinged laugh, cat-eye glasses flashing—Dani slouching in behind her.

Ethan sighed. "Great… just great," he muttered softly.

DeeDee chuckled, giving Ethan an appraising look. “Hey, little mister. Look at you—thirteen and doing what you do best.” She gave a little tug on the eyelet trim of his apron. “It looks likes kismet to me.”

“Hey, Aunt DeeDee.” He pursed his lips impatiently, hands clasped politely together to keep from fidgeting, his knees together, his feet slightly pigeon-toed. “So, what’s going on?”

“Oh, my girl and me, we’re just checking on the birthday boy,” DeeDee said, plopping down on a kitchen chair. “Your mom called a little while ago, told me about how your birthday got all messed up. Too bad, Princess, but them’s the breaks. We thought we’d come by and cheer you up.”

Ethan frowned, eyes darting between them. He stared suspiciously at Dani. “Why are you here?”

She shrugged, hands buried in the pockets of her jeans. “I thought I’d hitch a ride and check on my favorite Sissy.” She whistled. “Wow, I gotta say, you’re looking good. Usually you look like you’re getting ready for the first day of kindergarten, but that outfit makes you look kinda hot. For a girly-girl, that is.”

“I hate you sometimes,” fumed the cross-dressed boy.

“You say that, but you know it’s a lie.” Dani snorted. “You love me as much as you love me teasing you.”

Ethan blushed. He couldn’t argue with that.

“Hey, Princess,” DeeDee called out, “how’s about fixing us some of that tea you’re so famous for? And maybe pilfer some of my sister’s cookies? We skipped breakfast this morning and we’re famished.”

Dani wagged her eyebrows. “Yeah, we’re famished!”

Ethan hesitated. “Well, I would, but Mom said I was supposed to go over and see Auntie Penelope soon as I got done here. She’s expect—”

“Penelope? Pfft! She’s out walking that cat of hers. In a baby carriage of all things. Isn’t that right, Dani?”

“Yup. Penelope pushin’ that carriage is the funniest thing I’ve seen all week. She’s wacky.”

Ethan frowned, then shrugged. “Well, okay, then…”

The teacups rattled faintly as Ethan set the table. DeeDee snorted and began bossing him around as if she was one of his “aunties” instead of just a regular aunt.

“Now, dear, mind your wrist—keep it graceful,” she instructed in the worst British accent ever. “And chin up, dah-ling, not down in the pot.”

Ethan bit the inside of his cheek as the kitchen echoed with laughter. DeeDee and Dani were like a pair of annoying, mischievous children, whispering and giggling as though he were performing a circus act. Part of him wanted to laugh, but he was too frustrated to commit to it.

He filled the teapot with water, hand trembling, and murmured under his breath, “Happy birthday to me.”

“Straighter back, Princess,” DeeDee chimed, ignoring the remark. “Yes, like that. Oh, very good, dear heart.”

Ethan set down the sugar bowl with a clink and blew out a sharp lament. His cheeks burned; the pastel skirt swished mockingly every time he turned. He could almost hear Dani’s smug smirk and feel DeeDee’s cocked eyebrow.

Dani put her finger to her chin. “Aren’t you supposed to curtsy? I’m not seeing enough curtsying.”

“Why are you even here?” he fussed, his voice trembling. “Don’t you have some kids to pick on? You don’t even like tea.”

Her grin was wicked. “Sure I do, Sissy. I just love tea. I drink it all the time. Didn’t you know that?”

Ethan’s ears burned. Something felt off—Dani’s wicked grin, DeeDee’s teasing. But he was too distracted by the sting of his mother’s absence to piece it together. Instead, he smoothed his apron, swallowed his pride, and proceeded to prepare tea for three.

Just as the water came to a boil DeeDee’s phone went off. She checked it and looked at Dani. “Oops, Princess, hate to be rude, but we gotta go… to that, um … thing….”

Dani snorted. “Oh yeah… that THING. That we have to go to. Toodles, Sissy!”

And with that they were gone.

“What… the…?”

Ethan blinked. He felt so stupid, standing in the kitchen in his dress and apron, staring down at a service of tea for three, cups, saucers, spoons, the whole ensemble—along with a pot of water whistling on the stove.

Am I dreaming, he wondered. Did I bump my head… or have a stroke or something? Today is just… weird. Mom’s gone, Aunt DeeDee and Dani acting crazier than usual. What’s next, Auntie Penelope riding on Dani’s skateboard?

He had just finished putting away the tea service when the phone rang. He thought about not answering and just going back to bed, but he decided he’d best see who it was, just in case his mom called.

“Maybe they cancelled the seminar,” he muttered, padding across the kitchen in his slippers. “That would be great, because today has just been… Hello? Martin residence, Ethan speak—”

A pause. “Oh, hello, Auntie Penelope. Yeah… I mean, yes, ma’am, I know. Aunt DeeDee and Dani were… yes ma’am, I know. I’m late. I’m sorry. I’ll be right there.”

The cross-dressed boy huffed. “Do this, do that… where are you? What are you doing? Why aren’t you here already? Everybody’s in a hurry.” He felt a stinging in his eyes and a tingling in his nose, warning signs that he was about to cry.

“Stupid birthday!” he fussed. “Sometimes I wish I’d never been born!”

 

* * *
 

Ethan padded along the sidewalk in his ballet slippers, fuming all the way over to his aunt’s house. This was not going well. He’d hoped to spend his birthday in some semblance of normality, at least with pants on.

Well, it could be worse, he thought, looking down at his clothes. He plucked at the hem of his skirt and swirled it about, setting aside his frustration long enough to admire how the material flowed as he let it go. Mom did a really good job on this dress—it’s more grown up than most of the ones she makes for me. And this shade of yellow is my favorite, so….

He’d settled down for the most part by the time he went through the front gate. But still—no, it didn’t matter. Just suck it up and put on your big girl panties, as DeeDee always says. He paused at the porch steps, smoothed out his dress and checked his hair, and took a deep breath. The next few hours were going to test his patience, but he had no choice but to endure it as best he could.

I’ll be glad when Mom gets home, he thought. I’ll have a good cry and if I’m lucky I’ll get maybe a leftover cupcake or two and go to bed. Tomorrow, as she always says, is another day.

Penelope greeted him at the front door, all scarves and bangles, her face beaming as she looked him up and down. She looked Ethan up and down, clasping her pearls with delight. “My dear, how you brighten a dull morning,” she said, dropping a kiss on Ethan’s cheek. “Is that a tear? Poor thing, you miss your mother, don’t you? Don’t you fret, you sweet boy. We’ll see her soon enough.”

Ethan blinked his eyes and forced a smile. “Um, thanks?”

The old woman grinned impishly. “You’re welcome. And don’t worry about being lonely while she’s gone—I’m sure we’ll find some way to keep you busy. You know, I’ve been thinking about rearranging my pantry. Doesn’t that sound like fun? But first, let’s have some tea and maybe a little quiet time together.”

Ethan fumed as he followed her inside. More tea? And quiet time? Then chores?

First Mom takes off, then Aunt DeeDee and Dani act weird on me. And now Auntie Penelope takes over everything—and wants me to organize her pantry? She knows it’s my birthday—is she kidding me?

They were about to enter the parlor when—Penelope suddenly clapped her hands!

“He’s finally here!” she declared. “Let the party begin!”

DeeDee leapt out from behind the door, blowing a dollar store party horn with theatrical flourish. Dani whooped, “Surprise!” and tossed a handful of confetti in the air.

Ethan was startled by the commotion. He was suddenly surrounded by friendly, familiar faces and cheerful voices. He was especially surprised to see his mother standing in the middle of the room holding a large cake in her hands—frosting gleaming, thirteen candles blazing like tiny stars.

What the?—

The room was loud and lively. In addition to DeeDee and Dani surprising him, Claire was there, along Thelma Jackson and Niecy. And his neighbors, Marianne Johannson and Ricky had shown up, too.

Good grief….

“Happy birthday to you…” everyone sang, their excited voices weaving in laughter.

The cross-dressed boy froze in place, mouth open, as the song wrapped around him. His ears were hot, his heart hammering. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be mad or glad or sad… or if he should laugh or break out in tears. The onslaught of emotions was overwhelming and for a moment he was afraid he really might cry.

The decision was made for him as the final “Happy birthday dear Ethan, happy birthday to you” rang out—DeeDee and Dani singing “… and many more!” off key, of course—and Colleen set the cake before him. Tears trickled down his face as he looked around to see everyone smiling and laughing, not in mean or teasing way, but with genuine joy and delight… and love.

“Okay, you got me,” he croaked. He wiped his face, taking a tissue from a grinning Penelope, and tried again. “Um, I uh, don’t know what to say.”

A wave of laughter rippled around the room—Dani threw out the expected: “Then don’t say anything, Sissy! Cut the cake!”

“Yeah, cut the cake, Ethan!” Claire said, laughing.

Little Niecy giggled at the remark, jumping up and down and clapping her hands. “Yay! Cut the cake! Cut the cake!” she echoed, then bumped fists with the two teenagers.

“First off, how about making a wish, darling?” Colleen suggested. “This time for real,” she added with a wink.

The cross-dressed boy swallowed, then bent forward, cheeks puffed. The candles flickered out in one breath, and the room erupted in applause.

Penelope kissed his cheek. “Our birthday girl—ah, forgive me—our birthday boy looks positively radiant.”

Claire leaned in and kissed the other cheek, giving him a sisterly hug. “He looks gorgeous,” she purred. “That dress is to die for, Mrs. Martin! I don’t know why you all even let him near a pair of pants.”

He felt someone grab him around his legs and when he looked down he saw Niecy, hugging him for all she was worth. The little girl let out a delighted squeal. “Happy birthday, Ethan! Happy happy happy birthday!”

His stomach lurched—his hair was bare, no wig to hide behind, just the neat clip his mother had pinned. Panic prickled up his neck. He’d almost forgotten: Niecy wasn’t supposed to know he was a boy, but she didn’t seem to care—in fact, she looked up at him with a huge, bright grin on her face, giggling excitedly.

“I knew you was a boy all along,” she whispered loudly. “I kept your secret. I didn’t even tell Emily, ‘cause you're not s'posed to tell secrets!”

Ethan blinked down at her, confused, then softened into relief. She wasn’t scared of him, not like he’d worried. She was happy and that made him happy, too.

Ethan felt someone touch her shoulder. Thelma smiled, leaned in and gave him a hug, her eyes glowing. “She’s known for weeks. I think she overheard me talking to your mother. She kept saying she had a secret, but it became pretty obvious what it was. She couldn’t wait to surprise you.”

“That’s… good, I guess.” Ethan picked Niecy up. “So, you don’t mind me being a boy? You’re not scared of me?”

“Oh Ethan, I can’t be scared of you!” The little girl kissed him on the cheek, giving him yet another tight hug. She then poked at the little angel pendant at the base of his throat, warm against his skin. “You’re still my bestest friend.” She put her lips to his ear and said in a whisper but not a whisper, “And don’t worry, ‘cause if you’re not a magical girl you can always be a magical boy.”

Nearby, Colleen glowed to see her son surrounded by so much love. “I think you’re right, Niecy.” She looked at the scene, her heart swelling with pride. “Ethan really is a magical boy.”

 

* * *
 

As Ethan cut and served the cake—his frilly apron powdered with sugar—he looked around at all the faces smiling at him. His family—his mother, his aunts, his cousin Dani. They all looked so happy.

And he realized something strange.

For all the confusion, all his frustration and disappointment he experienced earlier… he felt loved. Not that regular, hum-drum day-to-day love, but that very rare and special love, the kind of love that hits you hard in your stomach, and in your face. The kind that causes you to grin so much your cheeks hurt and you think it’s never going to end; the kind that says things are going to be different, so you’d better get ready to hold on because change is a-comin’.

And more than that—he actually felt seen. Not as Emily, and maybe not as Ethan, either. It wasn’t about who he was, but who he was with. And at that moment he was with the people who meant more to him than anybody else he could think of. The people who helped make him who he was and who brought out his best qualities. And would do anything for him.

This isn’t so bad, he thought, rueful and a bit contrite. It’s kind of good. Not what I expected, but… maybe?—

“Best tea service I ever had,” DeeDee suddenly crowed, planting a mock curtsy, a plate with cake in one hand, her fork in the other. “Happy birthday, Princess. Oh, by the way, my present’s a free tune-up on your car.”

Ethan blinked. “I don’t have a car.”

“Well then,” she said, producing a sleek tube of red lipstick from her pocket, “this will have to do. The color’s called I’m Not Really A Waitress. Your mom says you’re too young for it, but hey, I’m the fun aunt.”

Colleen half-laughed, half-scolded. “He is too young… but we’ll see.”

Ethan felt someone bump him with their hip. Hard. He looked around to see his cousin stuffing her face with cake, her mouth smudged with frosting.

“Okay, so I’m here for the cake, not the tea,” Dani confessed. She put down her fork, wiped her hand on her jeans, then thrust a tiny wrapped box at him.

“Uh, thanks, I think.” Ethan peeled off the paper—inside was a silver charm for his bracelet: a miniature skateboard. “Funny, I was kind of hoping for one of these, but not quite this small.”

“Yeah, you’d break your neck on a real one, Sissy.” Dani snorted. “This one is so you don’t forget me.”

“Oh, I won’t forget you.” Ethan held it up and studied it, grinning. “No matter how hard I try.”

The laughter broke Ethan’s stiffness. He blushed furiously at all of the attention he was getting, but a reluctant smile tugged at his lips. Things weren’t going at all as he’d hoped—but he was actually having fun.

Claire stepped up with a small, narrow package wrapped in pink hearts and glitter. The gleam in her eyes as she swayed flirtatiously from side to side caused Ethan to narrow his.

“Well, this can’t be good,” he scoffed.

“Oh, don’t be like that,” she cooed, saccharine sweet. “You know I only want the best for my best girlfriend.”

“I wonder sometimes,” Ethan muttered. He put his feelings on hold and peeled off the pink paper to find an even more pink satin case which opened to reveal a portable makeup kit.

“It’s what every teenaged girl needs,” Claire teased. “You really need to up your game if Emily is going to get a boyfriend. And the best part is, I’m going to give you lessons.”

“Gee, thanks, Claire.” Ethan sighed. “I keep telling you, I’m not interested in boys—”

“We’ll see about that.” Claire winked knowingly and kissed him on the cheek.

“Yeah, never say never, Sissy,” Dani chided. Ethan looked over to see his cousin grinning—he resisted the temptation to throw the makeup case at her.

Ricky and his mom were next. The freckle-faced teenager looked bashful, his grinning face and sleepy eyes warming Ethan’s heart. “Happy birthday, Ethan. Thanks for inviting me and Mom to your party. This is really fun!”

He held out his hand, then dropped it and wrapped his arms around Ethan, giving him a hug so tight the cross-dressed boy grunted in pain. “Thanks for being my friend, too. You’re the best!” As he pulled away he had a shy smile. “Well, next to Emily, that is.”

Marianne handed Ethan a large package wrapped in red, white and blue paper decorated with stars. “We weren’t sure what to get you, but Ricky insisted on this. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Oh, I’m sure it’s great.” Ethan removed the paper and laughed. “Oh my gosh! This is perfect! Thank you, Ricky… Mrs. Johannson. This is just what I needed! Mother, look what Ricky gave me! It’s the perfect thing to go with your old Barbies!”

That “perfect thing” was a GI Joe action figure, twelve inches tall, the same size as the fashion dolls on display in Emily’s bedroom. It had an authentically styled pilot’s uniform and helmet, along with a host of accessories. Like all of the dolls in Ethan’s collection, it was vintage, which made it even more special.

“Oooo, that is perfect!” Colleen clasped her hands together and beamed. “Good job, Ricky!”

The red-headed boy’s eyes lit up as he pointed out all of the figure's details. “See, he’s got everything he needs to fly his missions... his oxygen mask and clipboard and survival knife—it's just like when my dad flies his A-10 Thunderbolt. It’s so cool!”

“It is cool, Ricky.” Ethan swallowed. “Thank you very much. I’ll put him with my other… my dolls. I hope he doesn’t mind hanging out with a bunch of silly Barbies.”

Ricky giggled. “He’ll like that! He’s just like my dad—he married the prettiest girl in the world, you know. Maybe Joe can marry one of your pretty girls.”

Ethan felt his eyes burning. He looked up at Marianne, who nodded and mouthed, “Thank you.” The two came together, hugging one another while Ricky shouted, “This is the best birthday party I’ve ever been to!”

Now it was Niecy’s turn. She stepped up to Ethan, her eyes shining. “I didn’t bring a present in a box,” she said shyly. She did a ballet-perfect curtsy, plucking the bottom of her tutu, and announced: “I brought you a dance instead. I’ve been practicing. Mrs. Cranston says I’m the best in her class!”

“Ohhh,” Penelope breathed joyfully. “How marvelous.”

Colleen clapped her hands together. “Well then, a birthday dance deserves music. Ethan, would you play something for our prima ballerina?”

Ethan’s mouth went dry. He was not ready for this, but his mother’s expectant smile—and Niecy’s eager eyes—left no room for refusal. He wiped his hands on his apron and crossed the room to the piano and sat. He took a deep breath as he opened the cover—he then placed his trembling fingers on the keys and began.

The first hesitant notes of Satie’s Gymnopédie drifted into the room. He stumbled once, then found the rhythm, the melody carrying him forward:

One, two, three… one, two, three…

Niecy lifted her arms, the ribbons of her ballet slippers flashing as she twirled. She leapt and spun with all the abandon of a six-year-old who believed utterly in magic. Everyone in the room applauded softly, eyes wet with pride.

Ethan kept playing, glancing over every few notes to see his little friend spin, feeling the music flow from his fingers into her steps. For a moment, everything else—the dress, the apron strings, the teasing—melted away.

As the final note faded and Niecy presented her curtsy, she rushed to him again. She hugged him fiercely. “I love you, Ethan! Almost as much as I love Emily!”

Laughter rippled through the room. Everyone reacted in their own way. Colleen and Thelma hugged, as did Ricky and his mother. Penelope clutched her pearls and gripped Claire’s hand; DeeDee dabbed at her eyes with a napkin, and Dani pulled her hat down over her face.

Dani elbowed her mother and sniffed. “Crybaby,” she muttered quietly.

DeeDee grabbed Dani’s hat and tossed it behind the sofa. “What are you looking at? I’m not crying—you’re crying!”

 

* * *
 

After Niecy’s dance, Ethan took a seat with her on the sofa, the first time he’d sat down since early that morning. Someone handed him a glass of lemonade and a piece of cake, which he devoured a little too quickly for Penelope’s sensibilities.

“My word, child, the way you inhaled was not at all ladylike or appropriate! Where are your manners?”

“Sorry, Auntie,” he said sheepishly. “I haven’t had anything since breakfast. I guess I got carried away.”

“Well, just be careful to mind your P’s and Q’s, darling.” Penelope slipped him an envelope with a wink. “In the meantime, happy birthday.” She looked around as if she was doing something naughty, whispering, “You go and buy yourself something pretty with that, you hear me?”

He nodded, smiling gratefully. The contents would no doubt be a generous donation to his ever-growing bank account. He felt a lump in his throat as he thought about how much she’d given him, all she’d done for him, since the first time he worked as her housekeeper.

How cool is she? he thought, wryly. She drives me crazy sometimes, but I shouldn’t complain. She obviously loves me as much as she loves Mom. And she does so much for others, like Niecy and Mrs. Jackson. I need to be patient with her and keep remembering that….

The party went on for quite a while, laughter and chit-chat filling the room at every corner. Dani and Claire came by to harass Ethan, which got Niecy and Ricky to laugh and giggle wildly. Marianne and DeeDee were deep in conversation, Thelma and Penelope trading whispers as if they were old friends.

A sudden musical clinging of a spoon on glass brought the room to silence. Colleen stood in the middle of the room, iced tea in her hand.

“First off, I want to thank everyone for being here today. Our circle of friends is small, but as I like to think, it is mighty. Each of you has made a huge difference in our lives, as have so many others who could not be here. So on behalf of my beautiful son and myself, thank you.”

Ethan felt his chest swell as the room filled with applause. He’d never been the center of such a serious, grown up gathering, nor had he heard his mother talk like this. He wondered if this was all part of becoming a teenager.

“But now I want to celebrate the main reason all we’re here… the birthday of my favorite helper, my little housewife—” there were a few hoots and snickers with that one—”and the love of my life… my sweet son… Ethan.”

All eyes turned toward the boy in the yellow dress. He bit his lip and looked around, doing his best to avoid getting emotional.

“That’s you, Ethan,” Niecy whispered. She hugged him tight, resting her head comfortably against his chest. There was a gentle flutter of approval, then silence.

Colleen continued:

“For a long time we didn’t have much. It was just the two of us—and our family, of course. After I got out of the hospital…” she clenched her jaw for just an instant, then went on. “There was a mountain of bills to pay and the burden of a house that we were at risk of losing. We struggled for a couple of years… all that has changed in the past few months.”

Colleen looked at Ethan with an expression he hadn’t seen before—it was beyond love, beyond her usual maternal affection. It was more like… admiration? Gratitude? Respect?

“My boy—and yes, as pretty as he is, he is still my boy—has become a major part of my… no, make that our success. Thanks to his support, his self-sacrifice and his creativity, we now have more orders than I know what to do with. Everyone here knows that Ethan is famous in certain circles as Emily—”

“I knew that!” Niecy squealed. “Emily is the magical girl!”

“She sure is,” Ricky said, blushing. “She’s one of the prettiest girls I know!”

Ethan sighed a little too loudly and everyone laughed. Colleen nodded, winking at her son.

“But what many of you may not know is how busy he's been behind the scenes with Colleen’s Creations, helping me with my designs, adding little flourishes and touches that I hadn’t even thought of, things that have caught the attention of our customers and added to the value of our little shop for our buyers.”

There was another round of applause. DeeDee whistled and shouted, “Way to go, Princess!” which caused more laughter.

“As if that isn’t enough,” Colleen added, “he’s miles ahead of me in technology. I can’t tell you how much I’ve learned from him about using our new sewing machines, not to mention working on our website and searching online for hard to find materials. And I don’t think I have to mention taking care of our home, doing the housework, washing dishes and the laundry and….”

“All right, Mother,” Ethan hoarsely croaked. “I think they get the idea.”

Again, there was laughter and smiles, all of them good-natured.

Colleen nodded. “The truth of the matter is, I literally could not do any of this without him.”

Ethan bit his lip as his mother paused and took a breath. He was beginning to wish she’d stop or else he might start crying, and he didn’t want anyone seeing him do that, especially Dani. And probably Claire.

“So, I’ve talked long enough. I’ll end this by announcing that we’ve paid off our back debts and I was able to refinance the house. And with the way things are going, we’re going to have to either hire more help… or raise our prices.”

There was a murmur of approval and more applause. Both DeeDee and Dani went whoop! and high-fived each other. “Nice!” Dani shouted, grinning at Ethan. “That’s amazing,” said Claire.

Colleen smiled. “And because of all of this, my birthday gift to you, Ethan, my darling boy, my love, is a promotion. You’re no longer just my helper—you’re my full partner and creative director for Colleen’s Creations. With a proper raise, of course.”

Ethan blinked, stunned.

“You may not understand this right now,” she went on, her eyes glistening, “but the difference you’ve made is priceless. Our lives are so much better, our future is secure. Everything that’s happened is because of you.”

The room quieted. For several seconds, no one teased. No one laughed. No one said anything. The only smiles were those of amazement and pride and love… and they were all directed at the teenaged boy in the yellow tea dress. Ethan tried to get up, but Niecy clung tight to him, puzzled by all the fuss, but knowing that it was something important.

Colleen nodded for him to remain seated. She walked over, leaned down and embraced him. She gave him a kiss on the lips and then kissed Niecy on the top of her head. The applause that followed was amazing considering the modest size of participants—but above all else, it was sincere.

Ethan felt a lump in his throat. Pride swelled… but a gnawing worry tugged at the edges. He was so happy, happy for his mother and happy for himself—the past several months had been a whirlwind, they’d overcome so many obstacles and accomplished so much. But, did what she just say mean she expected him to keep doing this forever? Working for the business, keeping house in dresses and aprons, for the rest of his life? Was he destined to be her little housewife… forever?

Niecy put her arms around his neck and kissed him on the cheek. “You’re crying, Ethan,” she whispered. “Is that because you’re happy or because you’re sad?”

He hugged Niecy tight and kissed her little forehead, blinking hard against the sting in his eyes.

All he could think of to say was: “I don’t know.”

 

* * *
 

In the dining nook, Niecy lay curled up beside her rag doll, whispering new secrets. Her tutu rustled softly with every shift, the delicate tulle skirt splaying out like spun sugar.

Laughter drifted from the parlor, Penelope fussing with DeeDee about Ethan’s new lipstick, Thelma and Claire listening to Ricky talk about clouds while Marianne helped Colleen refill glasses of lemonade and iced tea.

Ethan lingered in the kitchen, Penelope’s favorite serving tray balanced in his hands, quietly thinking and trying to put all that just happened in perspective.

He set the tray on the counter and began gathering the plates, brushing stray crumbs into his palm. The frosting smudges on the cake knife made his fingers sticky; he rinsed them under the tap, listening to the clatter and chatter in the next room.

Dani leaned against the doorframe with her arms folded. Her smirk was as insufferable as ever. “That was the best birthday party ever,” she declared. “I got to watch my Sissy serve everybody cake.”

Ethan shot her a look, his cheeks pink. “I’m finally a teenager, and you’re still gonna call me that? Sissy?”

“Oh no, you’re right!” Dani said sweetly. “You looked so much more mature now that you’re thirteen. Maybe I should’ve bought you a new bra, mademoiselle.”

Ethan shrugged. “Very funny.” He rinsed a saucer, then set it to dry. “Maybe I should get you one—something that doesn’t smell like a soccer field.”

For a beat, they stared at each other—then both burst into laughter. Dani wiped her eyes, and Ethan found himself grinning in spite of everything.

Dani raised an eyebrow. “You do look pretty grown up in that fancy dress your mama made, but you’re still ridiculous.” She gave Ethan a playful punch on the arm. “But, like, in a really brave way. I wouldn’t… I couldn’t… do half the stuff you do for this family.”

The kitchen grew quiet again. The cross-dressed boy picked up a dish towel, the bows at the tops of his stockings tickling his knees as he moved. The skirt of his dress swished faintly with each step. His laughter faded into a sigh.

“I was pretty mad this morning,” he said softly. “I thought maybe today would be different. You know, more about me. As a boy, I mean. And I guess it still was. Only—”

“Only what?” Dani pursed her lips. “It was about you, Ethan. It still is. All about you. What, you think because you’re in a dress and panties it’s not about you? Ethan, it’s always been about you. Dress or no dress. You’re an awesome dude. Even if you are my Sissy.”

“Your… Sissy?”

She pursed her lips. “That’s right. My Sissy. No one else’s.”

Ethan nodded. “I can live with that.”

Dani tilted her head, watching him, and nodded. “Well,” she said, casual as anything, “you better ‘cause you ain’t getting’ rid of me anytime soon.”

 
Next, An Embarrassing Development