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 Twenty-Six: My Favorite Sissy

Dani can’t get enough of her sissy cousin.
 

Dani O’Brien was never the kind of girl to sit still. She had a skateboard scar on one knee, tree sap in her ponytail, and at least three bruises from last weekend’s soccer match. If she wasn’t biking across town with her messenger bag bouncing against her hip, she was climbing fences or sprinting down gravel roads with boys twice her size chasing her—laughing like a maniac while leaving them in the dust.

But lately, away from all the action, her mind kept drifting to her cousin Ethan.

There was something about him that didn’t quite fit. It wasn’t just the clothes—though the clothes were weird enough. After all, how many twelve year old boys paraded around in floral print dresses, wearing bras and looking like a 1950s television housewife? Sure, that was strange, but that wasn’t what bothered Dani.

No, it was the way Ethan folded into himself when people looked at him, or the pink flush that always crept up his neck when she called him out. He was the kind of boy who flinched at loud noises and never kicked a ball quite right. He was a sissy, all right—her Sissy, for sure—but he wasn’t quite a coward, either. Some of the things he’d done down right scared her. Or would have if anyone was in the position to make her do them.

And yet, Dani wasn’t sure whether she felt sorry for him… or admired him. Maybe both.

Then came the call from Aunt Colleen.

“Cookies just out of the oven,” her aunt chirped. “I made your favorite batch—with extra chocolate chunks—and there’s chicken salad and fruit for lunch. Come keep me company—and catch up with Ethan. He’s missed you, I think. You’re such a good influence on him.”

That last part had Dani narrowing her eyes.

Still, cookies were cookies, food was food. And teasing Ethan? Always a bonus.

 

* * *
 

By the time she arrived, Colleen was pulling a tray from the oven, her frilly apron dotted with flour. Dani kicked her sneakers off by the door and gave her aunt a skeptical glance.

“Tomatoes again?” she muttered, eyeing the lunch laid out.

Colleen smiled. “You’ll survive. Ethan’s upstairs—guest room. You know.”

She didn’t have to say more. Dani’s smirk answered for her.

The door to Emily’s Room creaked open, and Dani peered inside like a hunter stalking prey. There, cross-legged on the carpet, sat Ethan—no wig, no makeup, but unmistakably girlish. He wore a soft lemon yellow sundress, the kind with spaghetti shoulder straps and a flouncy skirt. His bare knees peeked from beneath the hem, and the skirt had ridden up enough to offer a scandalous glimpse of pale yellow panties. His feet were bare save for a pair of soft ballet slippers.

“Hello, Sissy!” she sang, bounding into the room like a wild beast. “Whatcha doin’?”

Ethan nearly launched into the ceiling. “Dani! Don’t do that!” he squeaked, fumbling to pull the hem of his skirt down. What appeared to be a magazine tumbled from his lap.

“Hey, what’s this?” Dani snatched up the book and flipped through it. “Why, Ethan! You old dog! Is this your mother’s lingerie catalog? Naughty, naughty, you bad boy, you!”

The blushing boy struggled to his feet, difficult to do considering how he was dressed. “No, it’s not my mom’s catalog! It… it’s mine.”

“Say what?” Dani looked down and saw that she was holding a catalog of girl’s fashions, mostly sleepwear and underthings. “Maybe I bumped my head, but isn’t this worse?”

The cross-dressed boy bristled. “No, it’s not worse. Mom wants me to pick out some things to wear. I’m… I’m modeling more modern clothes and she wants everything to fit right, so I gotta find the right underwear to go, you know, under my—”

“Okay, okay! I get the message.” Dani flipped through the pages, her face taking on a sour look as she held up a page devoted to panties and bras. “Doesn’t all that lace itch? Here, take this back before I get a sugar high. I mean, I’m a real girl, but you’d never see me wearing any of this crap.”

“Then it’s not for you, is it?” Ethan grabbed back the catalog and threw it on his bed. “Why are you here anyway? Don’t you have some sixth graders to beat up?”

Dani scoffed. “Why do that when I can have more fun teasing you, Sissy!”

Before Ethan could reply, Colleen’s voice floated up from downstairs. “Lunch, darlings! Dani, be sweet and let Ethan serve. He’s in training.”

“For what, exactly?” Dani asked, still grinning.

 

* * *
 

Back in the kitchen, Ethan was all blush and fidget as he carried out the plates. He moved carefully, balancing lunch on a silver tray like he’d been practicing. Dani plopped herself in her chair and gave a royal wave.

“Thank you, maid Emily,” she teased.

“It’s just Ethan,” he muttered, setting her plate down.

“Oh, please.”

As they ate, Colleen chatted about deadlines and hem lengths while Dani kicked Ethan under the table. When he started to clear the plates, Dani leaned back and crossed her arms.

“I’ll supervise,” she said.

Colleen laughed and poured more lemonade. “Be my guest.”

While Ethan stood at the sink, a white kitchen apron protecting his yellow sundress, Dani and Colleen made a game of commenting on his posture, the sway of his skirt, the way he wrung out the sponge like a dainty housewife.

“He’s definitely got the look down,” Dani commented. “But it’s the way he moves that’s impressive. Almost like he’s done this before.”

“Two, sometimes three times a day, seven days a week.” Colleen smiled. “He’s probably done this a hundred times, maybe more, since the beginning of summer. I never get tired of watching him.”

Dani nodded. “Wow. Washing the dishes, a hundred times during summer vacation. I don’t know that I’ve washed dishes that many times in my life.”

“I can hear you!” Ethan fussed. “Can’t you talk about something else?”

“Oh sure. How about your technique?” Dani called. “You need more elbow grease. You’ll never get a good shine with those dainty wrists.”

“Shut up!”

“Tough talk from a guy wearing yellow lace panties.”

“Mom! Make her stop teasing me!”

“Chin up, sweetheart,” Colleen added. “You’ve got to look cheerful when you’re helping.”

“Yeah, Sissy.” Dani stuck her tongue out at him. “You gotta smile if you wanna get your face on the cover of Hostess Monthly.”

Colleen smirked while Ethan grumbled and turned redder than the fruit salad.

As he finished stacking the last clean plate, he said: “I’m going upstairs,” and left the room.

Colleen set down her teacup. She slid something into Dani’s hand.

“Darling, before you go back with him… take this.”

Dani looked down to see his aunt’s phone in her hand.

“I never get any good candid pictures of him in his little outfits. See what you can do.”

The tomboy’s eyebrows rose. Then she grinned.

“Oh, I definitely will.”

 

* * *
 

Upstairs again, Ethan was fiddling with Adeline, tying a little apron on the doll, trying to regain a shred of dignity.

Dani didn’t let him.

“Hold still!” she barked, raising Colleen’s phone. Click. The photo snapped just as Ethan turned in surprise, caught wide-eyed, still clutching Adeline by the waist.

“Dani!” he cried. “You can’t—”

“Oh, I can,” she said, grinning smugly. “And I will, unless you let me take a few more.”

Ethan froze. “You wouldn’t show them at school, would you?”

Dani considered. “Depends on how cooperative you are.”

He sighed, cheeks burning. “Fine. Just… not too many.”

But once he agreed, Dani took command like a magazine editor. “Hands on hips. Good. Now blow a kiss. No, really blow it, like you mean it. Ooh! Do a little spin. Hah! That skirt really flutters!”

Ethan followed her directions, mortified but weirdly exhilarated. He posed with the one of his mother’s old Barbie dolls, curtsied, twirled, blew kisses, primped and posed and even—after much coaxing—wiggled his bottom with a playful “tee-hee.”

By the end, both kids were breathless with laughter. Dani fell back on the bed, kicking her legs in the air.

“You are too much, cousin,” she gasped. “Seriously, I don’t know whether I should bully you or adopt you.”

Ethan collapsed beside her, fanning his red face, trying too hard to look like he hadn’t had any fun. “You’re already bullying me.”

“Yeah, but like… kindly.”

 

* * *
 

Downstairs again, Dani handed Colleen back her phone.

“These are gold,” she said gleefully.

Colleen scrolled through the images and laughed. “Oh, sweetheart. You’ve got the touch. I might have to hire you as my assistant photographer.”

“Pass,” Dani said, heading for the door.

Outside, she straddled her bicycle and dug into her pocket. From it, she pulled out her own phone and pulled up a shot of Ethan mid-twirl, the sun catching the yellow folds of his dress, eyes squeezed shut, mouth in a helpless grin.

She stared at it a moment, then tucked her phone back safely.

“He may be a sissy,” she said softly, “but he’s my Sissy.”

Then she kicked off the curb and sped away, hair flying like a battle flag in the breeze.

 

* * *
 

The morning sun drifted lazily through the parlor window, catching the flecks of dust in the air as Ethan maneuvered the vacuum back and forth across the ornate carpet. He wore another one of his mother’s more recent “experiments”—an orange-and-white polka dot housewife-style dress, but in his size, with short puffed sleeves, buttons up the back and a cinched waist, its wide skirt flaring with every step. A frilly white apron tied snugly at his back, the large, knotted bow fluttering each time he turned. On his feet, soft white slippers matched his knee socks, which were trimmed with delicate white lace that tickled his shins as he worked.

The vacuum hummed obediently, but Ethan was not quite so calm. His face was pink with concentration—and, if he were honest with himself, just a touch of shame. This wasn’t for an event. This wasn’t for modeling. This was… just a chore. And Mother had decided that this dress, which had once been destined for a mannequin, was now better suited for her son’s “everyday wear.”

“Orange, Mother? Really?” he’d fumed. “These polka dots are just horrible! I feel like I’m covered in tangerines. Baby pumpkins at worst.”

“Why waste a good frock?” she’d said with a wink. “I can’t sell it. You’re right—that pattern is not a favorite and the cut is all wrong. But my little homemaker needs a uniform, right?”

The thing was—he didn’t hate it. And he hated that he didn’t hate it, which seemed to be a recurring thing. Not to mention as confusing as heck. Something clicked in his head whenever he wore something pretty and performed these odd little tasks, things that no “real boy” would even consider doing—it was almost as though he actually enjoyed being under his mother’s thumb, being her “little housewife.” And some things, like working in her dressmaking shop, running the sewing machines, coming up with ideas to help put together the dresses and skirts and tops they sold, those were actually kind of fun. And yes, that included modeling their creations—though he’d never actually admit that out loud. True, he’d die of embarrassment if the truth ever got out to his friends at school, but here, in the safety and security of home, he didn’t mind so much.

I wonder what my dad would think if he could see me now?—

Ethan frowned. Where did that come from? Why did the idea of his father come into his head just now? Of all the stuff he could have been thinking… he hadn’t thought about his dad in so long... not ever since—

Nope. Not going there. Not no way, not no how!

He took a deep breath and tried to put the past out of his mind. Instead, he focused on the tracks the vacuum left in the carpet.

Then—

POKE.

“Hello, Susie Homemaker!”

He jumped so violently the vacuum tipped over with a clatter. Whirling around, face blazing, he found himself nose to nose with—

“Dani!” he gasped, clutching his apron like a startled matron. “What are you doing here?!”

His tomboy of a cousin stood almost too close, a wicked grin on her face, her hands jammed in the pockets of her cargo shorts. Her shaggy brown hair was tucked behind her ears, and her scraped-up knees suggested she’d either been climbing trees or terrorizing boys again.

“I rang the bell but I guess you were too busy vacuuming in heels,” she said with a snort.

“They’re slippers!” Ethan hissed, instinctively tugging his hem down. It did nothing.

Dani’s grin only widened. “I gotta say, that orange is just your color. You look like one of those 1950s TV wives. Should I call you Hazel? Or maybe Missus Belvedere?”

Ethan blushed so hard he nearly glowed.

“I hate you,” he muttered.

“No you don’t.” She crossed her arms, still smirking. “Be nice, ‘cuz I brought you a present.”

“A what?”

“Wait here.”

She darted out into the hallway, her sneakers squeaking on the hardwood floor, and returned dragging an enormous glossy shopping bag from Sophie’s Second Hand Emporium.

Ethan stared at it like it might explode. He could see the box peeking over the top.

“You didn’t.”

“Oh, I did.”

She dumped it at his feet. “Happy Thursday, Sissy.”

He cautiously peeked inside… and froze.

It was a Susie Homemaker Deluxe Doll Set. Complete with a miniature ironing board, mop and broom, a dinky pink vacuum, and even a floral apron for the doll herself. The packaging sparkled with 1960s-style pastels and promised “Realistic Chores for the Busy Little Lady!”

“Are you kidding me?!” Ethan squeaked, pulling the doll box out like it had personally insulted him.

Dani burst into laughter, kicking her feet up. “Look at her face! She looks like you when you’re stuck folding laundry!”

From the kitchen doorway, Colleen had been watching the entire exchange, one hand on her hip and a knowing smile on her lips.

“Oh my,” she drawled, drying her hands on a dish towel. “That is a lovely gift, Dani. And so… appropriate.”

Ethan narrowed his eyes. “You knew about this?”

“Maybe,” Colleen admitted, crossing into the room. “But I didn’t expect the full set! I remember those from when I was a girl. There’s even a toy washing machine, you know. If I can find one I’ll get it for you. For extra practice.”

Ethan groaned. Dani howled.

“I hate both of you,” he mumbled.

Colleen ruffled his hair. “No you don’t. Now what do you say when someone gives you a gift? Come on, be nice.”

The cross-dressed boy sighed. “Thank you, Dani.”

His cousin beamed proudly. ”You’re welcome, Sissy!”

Ethan frowned. ”See, Mom? See how she’s mean to me?”

“Oh, she’s just teasing, sweetheart. Don’t be so sensitive. Your Aunt Vivian and DeeDee and I did the same when we were your age.” Colleen gave Dani a quick wink. “And you, young lady, don’t be so cruel. I might have to put a bow in your hair if you’re not more polite.”

“Fat chance,” the tomboy said with a snort.

“It is very nice.” Colleen pulled a brochure from the box and carefully examined it. “Was it expensive?”

“Well, it is practically an antique,” Dani said coyly. “But because the accessories aren’t perfect and Susie’s clothes are kinda worn, I got it for a steal.”

“You can return it and get your money back as far as I’m concerned,” muttered Ethan.

“Ethan! Don’t be rude or I’ll give you extra chores, little miss.” Colleen gave her son a soft pat on his shoulder. ”Now, why don’t you be a good girl and go put Susie in Emily’s room, please. She’ll need a proper place to be on display.”

Ethan glared but obeyed, holding the box like it might bite him.

As he trudged up the stairs, Dani called after him: “Hey! Don’t forget to iron her apron! You wouldn’t want your dolly looking wrinkled!”

Ethan paused at the landing, turned, and gave her his best pouty face.

“One day I will get you back for this,” he said in his high-pitched Emily voice. “And I’ll make you mop the kitchen while I supervise.”

Dani laughed. “Deal, princess.”

“You can go help if you like,” Colleen said. ”Just don’t be so mean.”

“Good idea! Thanks, Aunt Colleen.”

The happy woman watched them both—her little sissy son and her scruffy niece—with a heart full of mischief and something gentler besides.

 

* * *
 

Ethan climbed the stairs slowly, the giant doll box thumping against his hip as he went. His frilly housewife skirt bobbed with every step, and his white apron sash fluttered behind him like a reluctant flag of surrender. From below, Dani followed at a leisurely pace, whistling an off-key tune and kicking Ethan’s heels every few steps, just enough to make him squeak.

“Would you cut that out?” the cross-dressed boy snapped over his shoulder.

“Cut what out?” she said sweetly, eyes wide. “I’m just helping you get to your dolly room faster, Emily.”

He groaned. “It’s not my dolly room.”

“It will be once Susie moves in.”

They reached the landing, and Ethan opened the door to Emily’s room—the guest room that no longer looked like a guest room at all. Floral wallpaper. A frilly pink and white vanity. A four-poster bed with layers of eyelet bedding. The bookcase held a row of fashion magazines, etiquette manuals, and a suspicious number of old fashion dolls and porcelain ballerinas. Even the lamp had a pink fringed shade.

“Oh my god,” Dani breathed. “It gets worse every time I come up here. You really do live like a doll, you know.”

“Shut up.”

“Where’s her crib?”

“Dani.”

She flopped onto the bed with all the grace of a Saint Bernard and watched as Ethan knelt down in his poufy dress and began unboxing the doll.

The Susie Homemaker doll was as humiliating as promised: big-eyed, curly-haired, and smiling smugly in her frilly blue dress and white pinafore. Ethan set her carefully on the vanity bench, then opened the accessory tray. Tiny broom. Tiny vacuum. Tiny iron.

“Okay,” he muttered, trying to be efficient. “I’ll just put these here—”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Dani interrupted, sitting up on her elbows. “You’re doing it all wrong.”

Ethan looked up, alarmed. “What?”

“You can’t just dump her tools out. Set it up like a real homemaker’s station. Didn’t your bossy mother teach you anything about proper presentation?”

Ethan narrowed his eyes. “You’re making fun of me.”

“I am,” she admitted. “But that doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”

He sighed. “Fine.”

With a long-suffering huff, Ethan cleared an eye-level shelf in the bookcase beside the window and began arranging the doll’s miniature housekeeping utensils. The vacuum went to one side, propped neatly against a picture book. The ironing board stood proudly beside it, and the mop-and-broom set was leaned in the corner like faithful little servants. Susie herself was placed squarely in the middle, hands on her plastic hips, surveying her domestic domain.

Dani gave a slow, theatrical golf clap.

“Bravo. Now curtsy for her.”

“I will not.”

“Emily.”

“Dani!”

From the doorway came a familiar voice, warm and delighted:

“Well, well. Isn’t this a sweet little tableau?”

Ethan turned beet red as Colleen stepped in with a tray of lemonade and two freshly baked chocolate chunk cookies.

“I thought my little homemaker and his supervisor might want a little treat,” she said with a grin.

“Perfect timing,” Dani said, accepting a glass. “Ethan was just about to do a demonstration of Susie’s sweeping technique.”

“I was not!”

But Colleen only sipped her lemonade. “Well, perhaps we’ll save that for later. Dani, would you mind fixing Susie’s bow? It looks a little off-center.”

“Oh, gladly.” Dani pounced, lifting the doll and adjusting the tiny ribbon at its throat. Then, with an impish look, she placed the doll back down—right on Ethan’s pillow.

“There,” she said sweetly. “She’ll keep an eye on things while Princess Emily is asleep.”

Ethan looked like he might melt into the carpet. But there was a small, strange smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Colleen noticed.

And later, after Dani had gone, after Susie had been placed carefully back in the bookcase with her tools all around her, and his frilly little housewife dress had been hung neatly back in the wardrobe…

Ethan stared at the doll.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he murmured. “You’re the one who came to live here.”

He adjusted her pinafore.

And turned off the light.

 

* * *
 

Dani biked home slowly that afternoon, her sneakers loose on the pedals, her thoughts trailing behind her like a kite in low wind.

It had been funny, of course. Teasing Ethan. Watching his face go all pink and pinched as he tried to hide behind lace curtains and dignity. She'd known exactly what she was doing when she bought that ridiculous Susie Homemaker doll. The idea had struck her like a bolt of inspiration the minute she saw it in the secondhand shop—bam, perfect.

After a quick phone call to Aunt Colleen, who was always up for a little fun at her son’s expense, and she was back to the store, money in hand. It had cost her quite a bit, but oh, the look on his face when he opened that box! Mouth hanging open, cheeks flaming. Priceless.

But now, riding in the fading light, the laughter was quieter in her chest. It had curled in on itself, like something private. Tender. Unspoken.

Because Ethan hadn't cried.

He hadn’t pushed the doll away or run upstairs yelling.

He’d just… stood there. Blushing.

And then he’d laughed with her.

That was the part she kept thinking about.

Dani wasn’t dumb.

She knew what people thought of boys who wore dresses.

She’d punched a kid in third grade for saying it about her long before Ethan had ever put on a single petticoat.

And Ethan—her cousin, for crying out loud—he had no idea how sweet he looked, standing in that stupid frilly apron, matching slippers, and those socks, like he was born from a vintage storybook and left out in the sun to wilt. He looked so helpless, so adorable—she was constantly torn between wanting to flip up his skirt and make him cry, and beating the snot of anybody else who did the same.

Just thinking about him wearing all of those prissy little outfits made her stomach flip in a way she didn’t understand and didn’t want to admit.

“What do I care,” she muttered. “He loves this stuff.”

Then she frowned.

No. Not love. That was the thing.

Ethan didn’t love any of this.

But he accepted anyway.

He wore those awful outfits.

He curtsied and said “Yes, Mother.”

He carried in tea for a bunch of giggling old ladies.

And not once had he asked her for help.

That’s what got to her.

Because Dani knew boys who fought to prove how tough they were. And boys who laughed and bragged and pushed each other around like they were made of bricks. The same boys who stuttered and stammered and got mad and even cried when you questioned their masculinity.

But Ethan?

He was different.

He took the teasing. The chores. The lace.

And he stood straighter than any boy she knew.

And she would defend him until her last breath.

 

* * *
 

She turned into her driveway and leaned her bike against the porch. Lights were coming on across the neighborhood, one soft flicker at a time. She sat on the steps, thinking about Ethan.

Then, with a quiet little sigh, she made a decision. Tomorrow she'd go back downtown.

Not for another doll.

But maybe something... for Ethan.

Something pretty.

Something stupid.

Something that said: I see you. And I think you’re brave.

And she’d make fun of him, of course.

But only because she loved him more than he’d ever know.

 

* * *
 

The screen door slammed open in the way that always preceded Dani’s sharp presence.

“Anybody home?”

Colleen didn’t even flinch.

“Incoming,” she said happily, drying her hands on her apron.

Ethan looked up from the sink. “I'm running away.”

“You’re in your housewife dress, darling. Where would you go? And don’t say Australia.”

“Maybe.” He glared. “I have rights.”

“Not in this house, you don’t.”

Before he could fire back, Dani burst into the kitchen.

“Hey, Aunt Collie!” she announced. “What’s happenin’?”

She bounced onto a chair, dressed in an army green T-shirt that said “Nope!” on the front, and a pair of cut-off jeans. She dropped a small paper bag from Baubles and More Discount Jewelry on the table.

Then she spotted Ethan. His soft pink gingham dress was exactly what she’d hoped for.

“There’s my Sissy! I figured you had to be here. The smell of lemon soap and fabric softener gave you away.”

Ethan turned slowly from the sink, cheeks burning, rubber gloves still on. “Shut up!”

“Such poise,” she said with mock reverence, clasping her hands as though greeting royalty. “You know, you look more and more like those pictures of our great-aunt Cora every day. She always wore pearls with her apron.”

“I’m not wearing pearls.”

“Not yet, Mrs. Cleaver.”

Colleen chuckled and poured Dani a glass of iced tea. “He’s had quite the day. His Auntie Penelope had him hosting another of her little luncheons. Wore the poor thing out.”

Ethan gritted his teeth. “Everyone’s acting like I wanted to do it.”

Dani raised an all-knowing eyebrow. “Did you stomp out of the house in tears?”

“No.”

“Did you refuse to serve them their spiked tea and cookies?”

“No.”

“Did you curtsy on command and twirl when asked?”

Ethan opened his mouth. Closed it. “Maybe.”

Dani smirked. “Sounds like another day in Girlyville to me.”

“I keep telling you—I don’t live in Girlyville!”

“Can’t prove it by me.” Dani gave Colleen a sly look. “But since you worked so hard today, I got you a reward.”

“Oooo, another present?” Collen oversold her girlish enthusiasm. “Aren’t you the generous one!”

“A… reward?” Ethan narrowed his eyes. “What kind of reward?”

The tomboy reached into the little paper bag and pulled out a small, tissue-wrapped bundle. “The doll was for Emily. This is for Ethan.”

Ethan took off his gloves. “I’m afraid to ask.”

Inside the tissue paper was a small velvet case. He opened it and blinked.

Colleen raised an eyebrow. “So, what is it, sweetie?”

“It’s a bracelet.” The cross-dressed boy held it up and squinted. “Is this a—”

“Ooo, a charm bracelet!” Colleen laughed. “How perfect!”

“That’s why I got it.” Dani grinned. “It’s the perfect reward for the kind of boy—and I use that word loosely—who’d rather hang out with a bunch of old ladies than play soccer with me and the guys.”

“It’s silly.” Ethan frowned.

“Pfft! Shows what you know.” Collen sniffed. “It’s what every pretty boy should have.”

“What are all these things on it?” Ethan squinted as he sorted through the little charms. “Is that a… sewing machine?”

“It sure is,” Dani said proudly. “And there’s a thimble and a dress and a doll and a sapphire—your birthstone—and, of course, your favorite sissy flower, a daisy. We can’t be forgettin’ those daisies, can we?”

“Oh sure, let’s don’t forget the daisies,” Ethan muttered.

Dani laughed. “And there’s plenty of room for more. They’ve got little steam irons and ironing boards and vacuum cleaners and… dang it! I meant to get a teacup! Oh well, next time, I suppose.”

“Ironing boards… vacuum cleaners? As charms?” Ethan looked horrified. “You gotta be kidding!”

Dani raised an eyebrow. “Am I?”

Collen lifted her son’s hand, giving the bracelet a long look. “I wouldn’t be surprised. You can put your whole life on one of these,” she said. “I’ve still got mine around here somewhere. You can have it if I ever find it.”

“That’s okay. I still think it’s silly.” Ethan pursed his lips. “Um, do they make video game charms?”

“Probably. They make them for just about everything.” Colleen stared at her son. “But tell me this, little miss housekeeper—when was the last time you actually played a video game? Do you have so much free time that I need to give you more chores to do?”

“No more chores, please, Mother.” The cross-dressed boy bit his lip. “I was just curious.”

“You know what they say. Curiosity gets you more laundry.” The look on his mother’s face was borderline menacing and mischievous.

Ethan frowned. “I don’t think that’s how it goes.”

She took the bracelet and draped it over Ethan’s wrist and snapped the clasp. Dani looked on smugly.

“Mama chipped in, too. She said, ‘Be sure to get our princess somethin’ real girly-like. Somethin’ he’ll be proud of.’ I saw this in the display case at the jewelry store and I thought, my poor Sissy doesn’t have one of these. Pitiful thing, so deprived. But never fear, Cousin Dani to the rescue!”

Ethan nodded, only partially paying attention. He held his hand up so he could watch the little charms dangle about. “It’s okay I guess. Maybe not so silly after all.”

“If you don’t like it, I suppose I can always return it.” Dani pretended to pout. “Of course, it is custom, so I might not get all of my money back.”

“That would be a shame, after going to all that trouble.” Collen nudged her son. “I said, that would be a shame, wouldn’t it, darling?”

Ethan blinked. “Oh, um… that’s okay, Dani. I’ll keep it, I guess. I suppose I can wear it whenever I dress up as Emily. You know, on special occasions.”

“Mmm, I don’t see why you can’t wear it all the time, sweetie.” Colleen winked. “You know what I always say, if you wear something fun—”

“—The job’s more fun,” Ethan sighed. “Okay, Mother. I get it.”

“Also, you still haven’t thanked, Dani, have you?” Colleen raised an eyebrow. “What do we say?”

“Oh, yeah… um, thank you, Dani, for the gift.” His mother whispered in his ear. Sighing, He stepped back, did a perfect curtsy and said: “It is a very nice gift. I promise to wear it every day.”

Dani clutched her chest. “Oh my gosh, you actually curtsied… for me? That’s hilarious!”

Ethan pretended to ignore her, but the reluctant smile on his lips said all that was needed.

“It’s not that big a deal,” Dani leaned back and stretched. “I think worked out just fine.”

“It did, indeed.” Colleen leaned against the counter, watching her cross-dressed son play with his new bracelet. “He’s a natural, you know. Not perfect, not yet. But he is a natural.”

Dain nodded. “Oh, I know. So sweet, so pretty… so easy to tease.”

Colleen nodded. “So good at housework, sewing, fashion… modeling...”

“Does a passable curtsy,” Dani added.

“Laundry,” Colleen continued.

“Tea pouring.”

“Excellent at folding clothes.”

“Even better at blushing.”

Ethan huffed and turned back to playing with his new bracelet. “I can still hear you.”

“Yes, we know dear,” Colleen said serenely. “That’s half the fun.”

 

* * *
 

The house was quiet.

Dinner had been eaten. The dishes were done. Dani had pedaled home just before dusk, her laughter still ringing faintly in Ethan’s ears.

And upstairs, in the soft amber glow of the vanity lamp, Colleen gently picked up the charm bracelet from her son’s dressing table.

She turned it over thoughtfully. Her fingers flicked the delicate charms, the little sewing machine, the thimble, the doll… the sapphire… and she admired how they glimmered under the light of the lamp.

Colleen smiled. So, she thought. That rascal girl does have a sentimental streak after all.

Ethan was in the bathroom brushing his teeth, dressed in the pale pink ruffled nightie Colleen had laid out for him. She could hear the water running and the soft hum of some song he wouldn’t dare sing in front of anyone else.

She sat at the edge of the bed, the charm in hand, waiting.

Moments later, Ethan padded into the room, all soft slippers and sleepy eyes. His hair had fallen over one brow. He brushed it away lazily—until he saw what his mother was holding.

He stopped mid-step. “Oh. You found it.”

“I did,” Colleen said. “And I must say… it is darling.”

Ethan blushed. “Yeah. I suppose.”

Colleen raised an eyebrow with amused warmth. “She has very good taste.”

He sat beside her on the bed, the hem of his nightie rustling against the quilt. “I thought it was kind of silly,” he admitted. “At first.”

“And now?”

“I don’t know.” He looked away. “It makes me feel... different. Not in a bad way. Just… like I’m playing a part. But also like maybe the part is... me, somehow.”

Colleen’s expression softened into something maternal and luminous.

“Well,” she said, gently slipping the bracelet onto Ethan’s wrist, securing the clasp with care, “sometimes a part becomes a performance… and sometimes, it becomes truth.”

Ethan raised his hand up to eye level and watched the charms dangle with a strange, quiet wonder.

Colleen smiled. “Do you know what I think?”

“What?”

“I think your cousin gave you more than a piece of jewelry.” She put her arm around him and kissed the top of his head. “I think she gave you permission.”

Ethan swallowed. “Permission for what?”

“To be lovely. To be seen. To play, yes—but also to just... be.”

There was silence for a moment. Ethan sat very still—adorned in the frilly nightie, his hair in pink plastic clips, his slender wrist now adorned in silver—looking like a porcelain doll left sitting out after playtime.

Then Colleen leaned closer, her voice a mischievous whisper.

“Of course… if you’re going to have a bracelet like this…”

Ethan turned to her, wary. “What?”

“Well,” she said, mock-casually, “you’ll need something equally refined to wear with it, don’t you think?”

He groaned softly. “Mother…”

“Oh, hush,” she said brightly, rising from the bed and walking to the armoire. “I’m thinking something pale blue. No, maybe seafoam green. How about a tea dress with pearl buttons and a lace collar? We’ll start on it tomorrow and we can let your cousin see you in it next time she visits.”

Ethan turned a deeper shade of red, the charms sparkling before his eyes.

“She’d never let me live it down…”

Colleen turned, laughed. Her eyes sparkled with mischief.

“She wouldn’t mock you, darling. She’d marvel.”

A pause.

“Besides,” she added with a wink, “every girl deserves to model her accessories properly.”

 

* * *
 

The doorbell chimed at precisely two o’clock. Not a second sooner, not a second later.

Colleen smiled to herself. Punctuality, she thought, was not usually Dani’s strong suit. But when you’ve been promised a surprise? Even wild little tomboys like her learn to be prompt.

She opened the door. “There she is. My favorite scoundrel.”

Dani, hair mussed as usual, wore a plaid shirt over a rock concert T-shirt and scuffed jeans. A bandage peeked out from a hole in one knee, like a war medal. In one hand she held a paper bag with some licorice ropes sticking out the top.

“You said you had something to show me,” Dani grinned. “So I skipped baseball practice. This better be good.”

Colleen stepped aside, grinning. “Oh, honey. I think it might be better than good.”

Dani stomped into the parlor, eyes sharp and ready. “So what is it? Another frilly dress? Did you glue sequins to Ethan’s vacuum cleaner?”

“Nope,” Colleen said. “It’s better than all that. Go ahead—sit down. I’ll fetch our little hostess.”

Hostess.

Dani blinked. She opened her mouth—but before she could speak, Colleen was already sweeping into the hallway, humming something suspiciously cheerful.

 

* * *
 

Ethan looked out the window, motionless. He watched the neighborhood boys riding their bikes in the street, boasting and shouting as boys tend to do. He smiled as two of them got into an argument, thinking how foolish they looked, banging the front wheels of their bicycles together. How childish they acted… how silly... and stupid…

His blonde Emily wig—the newest one with the ringlets—had been brushed and freshly re-curled, and he had been fastened, and fitted within an inch of his trembling life. He brushed back an errant curl as he tried to remember the last time he rode his bike.

I think it was before I started helping Mom around the house. I can’t remember exactly when…

A spark of light caught his eye as he fiddled with his hair—Dani’s charm bracelet was secured around his slender wrist, the late afternoon sun causing it to twinkle and shine. His fingernails, painted a soft pearlescent, gleamed in the sunlight, adding an extra layer of sparkle to his hands.

He looked down at himself, suddenly conscious of his attire. In contrast to the T-shirts and jeans worn by the boys outside, his body was draped in a newly completed tea dress, turquoise—or as his mother called it, seafoam—with pearl buttons, a white lace-trimmed collar, an empire waist and sleeves that fluttered like chiffon butterflies when he moved. A wide white satin sash hugged him just below his padded training bra. The pleated hem hit just below his knees—when he sat still.

His shoes were white patent with kitten heels. His thigh-high stockings were snug and tight, and his ankles crossed themselves automatically whenever he sat. He sighed, then turned away and got out his lip gloss and mirror.

Colleen entered the room, pausing a moment to enjoy the sight of her feminine son carefully applying a shiny coat of pink to his mouth. He smacked his lips with practiced expertise, checked himself in the mirror, and put everything back in its proper place. She pursed her lips, repressing the urge to giggle as he studied his reflection in the mirror. His delicate, dainty appearance, along with his pensive pose, made her giddy with delight.

She stepped behind him and reached over to adjust the white satin headband topped off with a matching oversized hairbow.

“You look adorable,” she whispered. “You make that dress sing. And that hairbow—mercy!”

“I look like a sissy,” Ethan murmured, heart pounding.

Colleen put her finger under his chin and gave him a peck on the lips. “You look like a dream.”

 

* * *
 

Dani was stretched out on the couch, idly flipping through a Ladies’ Home Journal and snorting at the ads.

Suddenly, there was a click of a heel at the top of the stairs.

Then another. And another.

She sat up and listened in anticipation.

Colleen appeared first, beaming. “Miss Emily will be serving us today,” she announced sweetly. “Do be polite.”

A few moments passed. Some prattling about in the kitchen… and then—there he was.

Ethan stepped into view, a vision in blueish green with rosy cheeks, bewigged and blonde, balancing a silver tray with two teacups, a small pitcher of cream, and a folded napkin shaped like a swan.

He paused at the threshold, clearly hoping the floor would swallow him whole.

Dani stared.

Her mouth opened.

Then closed.

Then opened again—this time into a slow, incredulous grin.

“Well,” she said finally, “aren’t you just the prettiest picture at the bottom of the tea tin.”

Ethan inhaled softly, stepped forward, and placed the tray down on the coffee table without making eye contact.

Dani stood up and walked around him once—once—slowly.

Colleen couldn’t help herself. “Say hello to your cousin, sweetheart. Auntie Penelope’s rules, please.”

Ethan sighed, then gave a curtsy even more perfect than the one he gave Dani during her last visit.

“Good afternoon, Cousin Dani,” he said softly. “Would you like milk in your tea?”

Dani snorted. Loud. But not unkindly.

“Sure, Miss Emily. Make mine four, no, make that five sugars, heavy cream, and no backtalk.”

Colleen smothered a grin with her hand.

Ethan poured with trembling precision, the silver charm bracelet clinking against the porcelain just slightly. To an outsider the scene would have looked like a very prim and proper preteen girl serving snacks to her scruffy, rough and tough brother.

He handed Dani her cup and saucer with care.

“You’re really going all in, huh?” Dani said, settling into her seat. “That dress… that bow … those curls. It… it’s like, a whole event.”

Ethan flushed, but didn’t speak.

Colleen, ever helpful, added, “The dress was his idea. Said he wanted to make your bracelet proud.”

Dani blinked. “Wait. What?”

“I said,” Colleen continued with innocent cheer, “he’s very fond of your gift. Wears it every day. Even dusts in it.”

Ethan looked at the carpet. Dani looked at Ethan. Then she burst into fresh giggles.

“You’re a better girl than I am,” she said, eyes dancing. “Than I’ll ever be… even if I live to be a hundred.”

Ethan, ensconced in seafoam green silence, gave a tiny shrug.

“I’m still a boy,” he muttered.

Dani took a sip and leaned forward. “Sure you are, cousin. Sure you are.” She paused. “But you’re also the best-dressed hostess this house has ever seen.”

 

* * *
 

Everything was quiet now. The boys outside had disappeared, taking their raucous behavior to parts unknown—likewise, the parlor was empty and silent. The teacups had been washed and put away. Dani had polished off the last lemon tart. Colleen—satisfied that her little experiment had yielded most promising results—had disappeared into her sewing room “for just a minute,” humming as she went.

Ethan led Dani up the stairs in silence, the hem of his tea dress brushing the backs of his knees with every step. His headband had slipped slightly askew. He didn’t bother fixing it.

Inside the bright pink bedroom known as “Emily’s Room,” Dani’s eyes lit up like Christmas morning.

“What is this?” she demanded, marching over to Ethan’s—well, Emily’s—pink and white vanity. “Is that my Susie Homemaker?” She was grinning at the doll when she noticed a spool of thread and needle laying nearby. “What happened to it? You didn’t tear it up already, did you?”

Ethan’s ears turned scarlet. “I was just fixing her dress. One of the seams came loose.”

“Oh my gosh,” Dani gasped, scooping up the doll and inspecting her tiny ruffled apron. “This is new. Did you sew this?”

“I—maybe. Sort of. I sew for Mom all the time, you know. So I figured I could practice on… Susie, I guess.”

“Wow. I mean, yeah… wow.” Dani turned toward the chest of drawers. Sitting atop were a miniature oven, a toy washing machine, and a tiny box of pretend laundry detergent.

She nearly fell over laughing.

“You’ve got appliances now? Oh, this is amazing. Aunt Colleen really is turning you into Emily.”

Ethan groaned. “It’s not like that.”

“Oh? You’re telling me you don’t like making tea and sewing skirts in your pink palace?”

Ethan stood awkwardly by the vanity, unsure of what to do with his hands. His finger, slightly powdered with sugar from the tea tray, made his hands look even more delicate.

“I dunno. Maybe.”

Dani thought for a moment. She then went over and tossed herself onto the dainty ruffled bedspread and stared at the ceiling.

“Wow,” she said again. ”Your life sure is crazy.”

“Yep.” Ethan sat down on the edge of the bed.

“So,” Dani said at last, turning her head to face him. “You really poured me tea.”

“You asked for it,” Ethan mumbled, crossing his arms—then quickly uncrossing them because it looked wrong with the dress.

“You curtsied for me. Again.”

“I did not.”

“You did. It was adorable. I almost clapped.”

“You laughed your head off.”

“You deserved it, Sissy.”

Ethan groaned softly and buried his face in his hands. “I’m so confused.”

Dani sat up. “I kinda figured that.” She reached over and plucked the askew hairbow from his wig with theatrical flair. “You’ve got bobby pins in here. Ethan! Guys your age don’t even know what bobby pins are!”

He groaned again. “Auntie Penelope said I needed to stop looking like a boy in a dress.”

“She’s not wrong.”

“I am a boy in a dress.”

“Yeah,” Dani said, grinning. “But you’re kind of good at it.”

Ethan looked at her. His mouth opened, then shut again.

Dani softened. “Hey. I’m teasing. But you really were sweet down there. I didn’t think you’d get through it. You looked like you were about to pee yourself.”

Ethan stared at his white patent shoes. “I felt like it.”

A pause.

Then Dani moved behind him and started untying the oversized bow at the back of his dress.

“Want me to help you out of this thing?” she asked gently.

Ethan hesitated. Then nodded.

With careful fingers, she loosened the sash, then the buttons up the back, peeling the elegant dress down from his shoulders like she was unwrapping something fragile and rare.

As Ethan stood to shimmy out of his dress, Dani caught sight of what he had underneath: white lace training bra and matching bikini panties. She let out a soft whistle.

“Modern undies, huh?”

Ethan turned crimson. “It’s… part of the outfit.”

“Sure it is.”

He looked down, then met her eyes. “Dani… does it make me weird?”

She tilted her head. “Honestly?” Then, softly: “Probably. So what, though. You’re weird, I’m weird—Aunt Penelope is very weird.” She giggled. “And have you met my mama?”

Ethan nodded. “Okay, yeah… but… am I good weird or bad weird?”

Dani’s face softened. She wanted to hug him and punch him in the arm, both at once. “Dude, stop with the weird talk. All this stuff makes you you. A weird version of you, sure, I guess. Maybe. But… I kind of like this version.”

Ethan blinked. His breath caught. He sat down again, this time beside her. Their arms barely touched, but it was enough to feel her warmth.

Dani said nothing more. She just let the silence rest around them, like a quilt.

 

* * *
 

Downstairs, the house had settled into that cozy post-tea stillness, when saucers had been rinsed and the last crumbs swept up. The only sound was the gentle ticking of the mantel clock and the occasional whisper of wind through the curtains. And the murmur of two women gossiping.

Colleen stood in the doorway of her sewing room, a warm smile curling her lips.

“I wish you’d been here,” she said to Penelope, who was polishing her brooch with a tissue. “He was so adorable, the perfect little lady, as always. And Dani couldn’t believe her eyes. She hooted so loud I’m sure the neighbors heard her.”

“Of course he was,” the older lady said. ”And of course she did.”

“He even curtsied for her, which was kind of sweet.” She laughed. “Dani will never let him live that down.”

Penelope smirked. “Isn’t it funny how, how she teases him so much, but he just takes it. Any other boy would run off, throw a fit, or even cry. But whatever she dishes out he can take all day long. They seem to have a… special relationship.”

Colleen looked up at the stairs. ”She’s been up there for a while. Alone … with him.” Her voice sounded concerned … protective.

Penelope glanced up. “They’re young. Let them be.”

Colleen tapped her cheek with a fingertip. “You don’t think they’re…” She trailed off with a sly little smile.

Penelope raised an eyebrow. “Colleen, it’s Dani. If anything’s happening, it’s her doing it.”

They exchanged a look. And then Colleen gave a theatrical sigh. “Well. A mother should at least check in, shouldn’t she? Make sure my little homemaker isn’t being bullied.”

Penelope grinned. “Or seduced.”

Colleen gasped, swatted at her friend with the hem of a napkin, and marched for the stairs.

 

* * *
 

Upstairs, Dani and Ethan were still seated side by side, now with the enormous Susie Homemaker doll propped up between them like an overbearing chaperone. Emily’s dress hung in her closet, and her wig was on its stand on the vanity, the satin hairband and its cartoonishly large hairbow laid beside it. Dani had pulled the bedspread up over Ethan’s lap to keep the chill off his legs—though it conveniently left his panties exposed.

Ethan’s bra straps had slipped slightly, and Dani had made no effort to fix them. Her leg still brushed his every so often, and her teasing had long since turned to gentle nudges and sweet, quiet looks.

“Sissy.”

“Bully.”

“Miss Priss.”

“Bully… again.”

The two laughed, then sighed in unison.

Then—tap tap tap—the knock came.

“Ethan, honey?” Colleen’s voice floated in like a ribbon on a breeze. “May we come in?”

Ethan leapt up, nearly knocking Susie off the bed. “Just a second!” he squeaked, fumbling to straighten his bra and run to the dress.

Dani remained sitting, arms crossed, totally unbothered. “You know they’re gonna come in anyway, right?”

“Not helping!”

The door creaked open.

Colleen entered first, bright-eyed and too cheerful. “Oh, I hope we’re not interrupting anything private.”

Behind her came Penelope, who took one look at the scene—Ethan pink-faced, holding his dress in front of his body like a shield, Dani coolly lounging on the bed—and gave a soft, satisfied hmmm.

“What were you two up to?” Colleen asked, in that voice mothers use when they already know.

“Nothing!” Ethan said quickly. “I—I was just changing. The dress was itchy.”

Penelope raised an eyebrow. “I assume you still have your panties on.”

“Penelope!” Colleen gasped—but not really.

Ethan looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole.

Dani, ever the rescuer, chimed in. “Chill out, aunties. I was helping him get out of the frills, Aunt Colleen. Your daughter here looked like he was about to faint.”

Colleen sighed in mock exasperation. “Well, I suppose we did overdo it a little. That wig can be stifling, and there’s all that pressure of serving her tomboy of a cousin. Poor baby.”

She moved to Ethan, gently adjusted his bra straps, and kissed the top of his head. “But you did so well today, sweetheart. You were just the perfect little hostess. Dani’s lucky to have such a sweet cousin.”

Ethan’s voice was a whisper. “Thank you, Mother.”

“Now put something on… something comfortable. Maybe that pretty cupcake sundress?”

Dani snorted while the flustered boy nodded and replied: “Yes … Mother.”

Penelope gave them both a hard stare as the two women left, then playfully winked before closing the door softly behind her.

Dani grinned. “Told you. You’re just a little doll living your best little doll life in your little doll house.”

“Shut up,” Ethan muttered. He sighed. “But… you’re not wrong.”

Next up: Secrets Exposed