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 Fifteen: The Little Housewife

Dani stops by. Awkwardness ensues.
 

It was Saturday morning and the house smelled like lemons, starch and warm cotton. Sunlight poured through the kitchen window, catching on the edges of a dish-drying rack and dancing over the faded linoleum floor. Somewhere in the background, Colleen hummed a tune from the radio while sorting napkins into tidy stacks.

From the laundry room came the soft splashing of water and the rhythmic squish-swish of fabric being worked by hand. Ethan Martin, age twelve, stood over old porcelain basin, sleeves rolled carefully past his elbows, a white eyelet-trimmed apron tied snugly around his waist. The apron matched—unfortunately, in his view—the vintage-style frock he’d worn all morning: a soft blue cotton print with short, puffed sleeves and a white peter-pan collar that brushed against his neck every time he leaned forward. His legs, pale and goose pimpled, were bare beneath the hem, save for the white bobby socks and rubber cleaning slippers.

He gave a sigh and dunked another garment into the sudsy water, trying not to dwell too long on the fact that it was a lace-trimmed slip. Or that it was his.

From the front door came a knock, followed by the creak of hinges and a familiar voice calling out, “Aunt Colleen? It’s me! I brought my board!”

Colleen’s voice came bright and cheerful from the kitchen. “Laundry room, Dani. Come say hello—your cousin’s helping me today.”

Footsteps thudded down the hallway, and before Ethan could so much as straighten up, Dani burst through the door with all the energy of a small cyclone. She wore cut-off jean shorts, a sleeveless T-shirt with a skate brand logo, and a scab on one knee that looked barely a day old. Her skateboard was under one arm, a lopsided grin already forming as her eyes fell on the scene before her.

She blinked. Then blinked again.

Ethan, standing before the steaming water, blushed furiously and tried to cover the pile of rinsed panties and slips stacked neatly beside him with a damp towel.

Dani’s grin widened to full glee.

“Oh, this is great!” she laughed, dropping the skateboard with a clatter. “You look like you’re wearing one of your mama’s dresses!”

“It’s not hers,” Ethan mumbled, eyes darting to the floor. “She… made it for me. For helping around the house.”

“And it looks marvelous on you!” Dani stepped closer, hands on her hips. “Seriously, you look like a housewife in one of those 1950s cartoons. You just need a string of pearls and a cigarette.”

“I don’t smoke, Dani.”

“That’s the part you object to?” she snorted.

From the kitchen, Colleen’s voice floated in, bright and amused: “Be nice, Dani. He’s being a big help today. The washing machine broke and can’t be fixed until Wednesday. I just don’t know what I’d do without my little housewife!”

“Mom, please!” Ethan said.

“Little housewife.” Dani chuckled. She leaned over the sink and raised an eyebrow. She reached in before Ethan could stop her, lifting a dripping pink bra with two fingers.

“Wait a minute…” she said slowly. “This isn’t even your mom’s size.”

Ethan turned redder. “Put that down!”

“Oh-ho-ho, don’t tell me—” Dani inspected the tag theatrically, lips puckered in fake concentration. “Thirty-two A? Why Ethan… is this one of yours? You’ve actually been wearing those things? Just wait until I tell my mama!”

“Yes, and so what?” he snapped, snatching the bra away and tossing it into the rinse pile. “You were here when I got them. They’re for modeling. It’s part of the job.”

Dani folded her arms and rocked on her heels, savoring every second. “So lemme get this straight. You’re wearing housewife dresses, doing all the housework, and handwashing your own bras now? This is amazing. I was gonna teach you how to ride my skateboard, but this? This is so much better.”

“I want to go skateboarding,” Ethan muttered. “But Mom said I have to finish my chores first.”

Colleen appeared in the doorway, wiping her hands on a dish towel, eyes dancing with amusement. “That’s right,” she confirmed. “And he’s being very thorough. Aren’t you, baby?”

Ethan gave her a look that begged for mercy. She smiled back sweetly.

“He just started the delicates,” she continued. “Still has to do the towels and sheets. He’ll be at it for a while. Sorry to spoil your plans.”

“Don’t be, Aunt Colleen. This is better than cable TV.” Dani couldn’t help herself. She dug into the pile of damp garments and held up a small-ish pair of lavender panties with a tiny satin bow.

“And these are yours too?” she asked innocently.

Ethan said nothing. His ears were practically glowing.

“Well?” Dani prompted. “You gonna tell me which ones are yours, or do I have to guess?”

“I’m not playing this game,” he said through clenched teeth.

She held up a frilly white pair with lace edges. “These?”

Ethan turned his face away.

“Or these?” She picked up a pale yellow pair with embroidered daisies. “These look like Sunday panties.”

“Dani,” came Colleen’s voice in a warning tone, but even she had to bite back a smile.

“What? I’m just learning about my cousin’s wardrobe. It’s just so… fascinating.”

Ethan plunged his hands back into the basin, determined to drown the rest of the embarrassment before it could bubble up.

Dani, not missing a beat, leaned against the doorframe and asked, “So… do you get to wear a bra all the time?”

“Maybe,” he mumbled.

“You’re wearing one now, ain’t ya!” She grinned as she reached over and slid her fingers across the back of her cousin’s dress. She gave it a pull and let it snap.

“Ow! Stop it, Dani!”

“I knew it! I bet it’s the strawberry one, too!”

Ethan kept silent, focusing on scrubbing the panties in his hands.

“So what’s next? I know, we need to find you a boyfriend.” The tomboy cackled with delight. “I mean, you’ve already got the outfits, the chores, the panties—what’s left? You can’t be a housewife if you don’t have a husband.”

“Mom!” Ethan yelled. “Make her stop teasing me!”

“Or what?” Dani giggled. “You’ll move to Australia?”

“Shut. Up.”

Colleen chuckled softly, shaking her head. “You two are something else.”

“I’ll say,” Dani replied. “I show up ready to skateboard and I find Betty Crocker here doing his unmentionables by hand.”

“Then maybe you should stick around and help,” Colleen suggested lightly. “You could hang them up while he rinses.”

“Oh no,” Dani laughed, throwing her hands up. “I wouldn’t want to ruin the performance. This is way too entertaining.”

Ethan finished rinsing the last item, one of his camisoles, and hung it carefully over the edge of a laundry basket, his fingers trembling slightly. He then picked up the basket and hugged it against his hip with practiced expertise.

Dani’s eyes went wide. “Oooo, now you really do look just like a mom on those old TV shows. Seriously, dude, you got it bad, don’t you?”

“I hate you,” he muttered at Dani.

“No you don’t,” she replied cheerfully. “You love me. Besides, you’d be bored without me.”

 

* * *
 

The back porch door creaked open and Ethan stepped out into the early afternoon sun, arms full of damp laundry. The basket, heavier than it looked, was balanced against his thigh, and with every step the lace and elastic spilled slightly over the sides. He squinted up at the clothesline that stretched from the edge of the garage to the garden trellis. Clothespins dangled like little beaks waiting to peck.

Dani bounded out behind him, her skateboard clutched in one hand and a mischievous energy bubbling just beneath her freckles.

“Behold!” she declared, hopping down the steps. “The suburban sissy begins his sacred ritual: the ceremonial Hanging of the Panties.”

Ethan didn’t rise to the bait. He simply set the basket down on the grass and began pulling out the first slip—his mother’s, long and cream-colored with pale lace trim. He draped it over the line and reached for a clothespin.

Dani dropped her board and launched into a cartwheel, her limbs long and loose like an accomplished gymnast’s. “Hey, you ever think about hanging them in color order?” she called out mid-flip. “You know—pink, white, lavender. Might be cuter.”

“I’m not trying to be cute,” Ethan grumbled, pinning up a pair of white panties with tiny roses printed along the waistband.

“You succeed anyway,” Dani teased, landing in a one-handed handstand and holding it, her shirt flopping toward her ribs. “I mean, look at you. You’re like a Sears catalog come to life.”

“Shut up, Dani.”

From the kitchen window, the screen door slightly ajar, Colleen’s voice floated out with perfect timing. “Language, young lady.”

“I meant shut up please,” Ethan muttered, cheeks hot.

Dani collapsed onto the grass in a mock faint. “Oh, the sass! I’m wounded!”

Ethan pressed a pale blue bra against the line and fumbled with the clothespins. The cups flopped forward until he fixed them with gentle, practiced hands. The sunlight shone through the thin nylon, catching his attention for just a moment. He had to force himself to look away.

“Why do you have to be so mean?” Ethan shot an annoyed look at his cousin. “I’m just doing my job.”

Dani snorted. “Hey, I’m not being mean. I’m just providing play-by-play commentary. I like watching you do this stuff. Gotta love a guy who is into hanging up his panties.” 

Ethan grunted. There was some truth to what Dani said. It wasn’t that he enjoyed the task—he told himself that again and again—but there actually was something quietly satisfying about seeing the pieces arranged neatly in the sunlight, like strange flags marking a hidden country.

“You missed a spot, Sissy.” Dani said, pointing to a small pair of polka-dotted panties still in the basket. “Literally. Go on, don’t be shy. Show the world your Tuesday undies.”

Ethan groaned but obeyed. The wind tugged gently at the hem of his dress as he bent over to retrieve them, and he caught Dani smirking out of the corner of his eye.

She rolled onto her stomach and propped her chin on her fists. “You know,” she said thoughtfully, “I think my favorite part is how normal you are about all of this now. Like, oh yeah, here’s me, in a dress, hanging up lingerie. Just another Saturday in Girlyville.”

“I don’t live in Girlyville.”

“Don’t you?” Dani teased. “I mean, isn’t your address Petticoat Parkway? Or is it Apron Alley?”

Ethan bit his lip and reached for the last item in the basket: a pair of his own soft yellow panties with a tiny satin bow. He glanced around before pinning them quickly to the far end of the line.

Dani clapped. “There they go! The royal bloomers, fluttering proudly!”

He turned on her. “Why do you care so much? It’s just laundry.”

Dani sat up and shrugged, brushing grass off her knees. “I dunno. I guess… it’s fun seeing you like this. You’re so serious all the time. Like, Ethan-the-boy is always scowling or muttering. But Ethan-the… laundry fairy? He’s kinda sweet. Soft around the edges.”

“I’m not a laundry … fairy,” Ethan felt weird saying that word.

“Well, you’re not a skateboarder, either,” she said with a wink. “So I guess we’re both still figuring you out.”

From the kitchen, Colleen appeared again, calling out, “Lunch in fifteen! Ethan, come wash up and help slice tomatoes.”

“Coming, Mother,” he called back, relieved for the distraction.

As he turned to go inside, Dani twirled her skateboard lazily in one hand and said, “I’ll wait out here. Don’t want to mess up your flow.”

Ethan paused. “What flow?”

She grinned. “You know—folding, fluffing, blushing. All the classic steps.”

He gave her a dirty look but said nothing. As he disappeared through the screen door, Dani leaned back in the grass and looked up at the sky, the line of pastel underthings fluttering overhead like some kind of absurd, intimate parade. She smiled to herself. For all her teasing, she had to admit it: she kind of liked this weird new version of her cousin.

 

* * *
 

The clock ticked softly in the hallway as lunch wrapped up and the scent of lemon and laundry still lingered in the air. Colleen collected the plates with a little hum, Ethan trailing behind her like a deflated balloon, still in his dress and apron, shoulders hunched, hoping he could slip away before any more humiliation caught up with him.

But of course, it was Saturday. And Saturdays, as he had learned, were never quite done with him.

“You can do the dishes after you’re done with the laundry, okay?” Colleen smiled as she set the plates in the sink.

“Yes, Mother.”

“But before you get back to that, I’d like your help with something in the sewing room.”

Ethan froze mid-step. “Can’t I?— I mean … Dani’s still here.”

“No, you can’t,” she replied with soft authority. “It’s for a customer, and it needs a quick fitting. You’re exactly her daughter’s size. Dani won’t mind, will you, sweetheart?”

Dani perked up instantly, still licking her spoon from the last bite of pudding. “Ohohoh—I wouldn’t miss this for the world!”

Colleen smiled serenely. “See? What did I tell you. It won’t take a minute. Just a quick try-on. You’re welcome to come supervise, Dani.”

“Absolutely,” Dani grinned, already on her feet. “I can’t wait.”

Ethan turned to his mother, pleading. “Do I have to? She’s gonna make fun of me again.”

Colleen gave him a patient, knowing smile. “You’ve been such a good helper already. Don’t ruin your streak now, baby.”

Ethan gave a theatrical sigh and trudged toward the sewing room.

“Don’t dawdle,” she added. “You’ll be trying on two dresses—one is practically done, and the other just needs hem-checking. You’ll need to undress completely between fittings. Dani, help me keep your cousin on task.”

Dani grinned. “Don’t worry, Aunt Colleen. I’ll make sure he doesn’t get distracted.”

 

* * *
 

The sewing room was warm with the scent of fabric starch and fresh thread. Mannequins stood in corners like ghosts waiting for instructions. The customers’ dresses hung neatly over the sewing chair—one pink flower print, one pale mint green with a sailor collar.

Ethan stood facing away from his cousin, tugging at the buttons of his housewife dress with awkward fingers.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he muttered. “With you here.”

Dani sat cross-legged on a floral armchair, tapping her fingers against her knee. “I can,” she chirped. “This is exactly how I imagined my afternoon going.”

Ethan sighed and peeled off his apron, carefully folding it over the chair. Then he slid out of his dress, letting it slip to the floor in a soft puddle. He careful picked it up, folded it and placed it alongside the apron. He stood now in only his bra and panties.

“I knew it!” Dani yelped. “I just knew you were wearing the strawberry bra! And look at those cute little panties! They’ve even got strawberries on the butt! Oh, Sissy, you’re killing me.”

Ethan covered himself as best he could. “Go away, Dani!”

“Nuh-uh! I’m invited, remember?” she said smugly. “Besides, this is educational.”

Colleen’s voice floated in from the hallway. “Is he undressed yet?”

“Yep!” Dani called. “And what a vision he is!”

“I’ll be there in a minute. Tell him to put on the flower print one first, please. The flower print one, okay?”

“I can hear you, Mother!” Ethan sighed as he reached reluctantly for the floral frock, which had tall cap sleeves, a high yoke neckline with scalloped trim, and a white satin sash that tied in the back. The fabric felt crisp and cold in his hands.

He stepped into it and worked it up over his torso, trying not to breathe as he adjusted the fit. The bodice hugged him tighter than expected, and the skirt puffed out around his hips with stiff crinoline.

Colleen entered the room, her pin cushion bracelet and a measuring tape slung over one shoulder. She smiled approvingly.

“Turn around and let me button you up, honey,” she said.

Ethan did as he was told, face burning, and stood miserably in the center of the room. When his mother was done he turned to face his cousin.

Dani let out a low whistle. “Wow. You look like you belong in second grade. Is this what your customer’s dressing her daughter in? Or her doll?”

“Now turn to the left for me, honey,” Colleen said, crouching slightly. “Let me check the hem.”

Ethan quietly obeyed, the skirt flouncing with a little rustle. His mother made several quick adjustments, adding a pin here and there.

“I love the puff in the sleeves,” she said. “Makes the shoulders look darling.”

“Or dainty,” Dani added. “Definitely dainty. So what’s next? Mary Janes? A cute little sunhat? I know… a bonnet!”

Ethan scowled. “Can we just get this over with?”

“Oh, hush,” Colleen said gently. “We’re halfway done. Undress, please. Time to try the sailor dress.”

Ethan turned quickly, the hem flaring a bit as he followed his mother’s instructions.

A few moments later…

“I can’t fasten it,” came Ethan’s muffled voice. “The buttons in the back are too tight.”

“Come here, I’ll help,” Colleen said.

He stepped forward reluctantly, the baby blue sailor dress half-done. The square navy collar flopped softly over his shoulders, and the skirt barely covered the tops of his thighs. His panties were visible as Colleen reached around and began fastening the buttons up his spine.

“This one’s more refined,” she murmured. “Almost a Sunday school look.”

“Perfect for his next tea party,” Dani quipped.

Colleen stepped back and took it in. “Hmm. I might shorten the sleeves a touch.”

Ethan stood frozen, arms limp at his sides. The dress’s sailor bow sat perfectly at the center of his chest, and the flare of the skirt moved gently as he shifted his weight.

Dani gave a low, delighted chuckle. “You know, you actually look younger like this. Like, I don’t think you could convince anyone you’re going into eighth grade right now. Not even close. Second, maybe. No. First.”

“I hate you,” Ethan mumbled.

“You keep saying that,” Dani replied, resting her chin in her hand. “But you never actually stop putting on the dresses.”

“Because I have to.”

Colleen gave him a pat on the cheek. “And you do it so nicely.”

 

* * *
 

Ethan was soon back in his original housework dress, adjusting the sash at his back as he helped Colleen fold and pack the two customer outfits. Dani leaned against the window frame, watching with quiet glee.

“You know what I realized?” she said suddenly.

Ethan didn’t answer.

“You’re not just wearing girl clothes. You’re learning how to act in them. Like, your little movements—you always curtsy when you hand things over. You walk differently. You even fold things like a girl now.”

Colleen smiled without looking up. “Practice makes perfect.”

“I don’t always curtsy,” Ethan protested.

“You do,” Dani and Colleen replied at the same time.

Ethan gave a long, resigned sigh. “Can I go take down the laundry now?”

“Yes, baby,” Colleen said kindly. “You’ve earned it.”

As Ethan padded off, skirts swaying gently with every step, Dani turned to Colleen with a smirk.

“Do you think he even realizes how far in he is?”

Colleen smiled and began collecting her pins. “Oh, he’ll figure it out eventually. But by then… he’ll be too well-trained to stop.”

Dani laughed softly and followed her cousin down the stairs.

 
Next up: Polishing Toward Perfection