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 Three: Supply Run

Ethan gets a surprise when his mom needs supplies.

Sunlight poured through the window, glinting off scattered pins and spools of thread as Colleen Martin scurried about her sewing room. It smelled like starch and cotton and the faint hint of machine oil. She was muttering under her breath as she flipped through pattern pieces spread across the big oak table.

“Where’s my tracing wheel…? Ethan, have you seen my tracing wheel?”

Twelve-year-old Ethan poked his head up from behind a stack of folded fabric. “You left it in your coffee mug again.”

Colleen gave him a look. “I did not--oh.” She reached into her mug, pulled out the slender metal wheel, and gave him a sheepish grin. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

Ethan rolled his eyes. He wore one of his mom's housewife dresses, recently altered to fit his slim frame. His brown hair curled damply around his forehead. He’d been pressing fabric for the past half hour, the iron hissing with every swipe. Somewhere under a pile of muslin, a comic book peeked out. He pushed it further out of sight.

Colleen turned toward him, measuring tape looped around her neck. “Stand up straight, hon. Shoulders back. You’ll ruin your posture slumping over that iron.”

“I’m not slumping,” Ethan mumbled.

Colleen ignored him. “Besides, I want to see how tall you’re getting. You’re about the right size for this dress I'm making for Mrs. Callahan's daughter.”

“I’m not a dress form.”

She gave him a wicked little grin. “It’s cute that you believe that.”

Ten minutes later, Ethan found himself standing in the middle of the sewing room in a white cotton dress sprinkled with tiny red strawberries. A retro-vintage design, it had a low square neckline that exposed his collarbones, short, puffed sleeves, and a skirt that brushed several inches above his knees. On his feet were red velvet ballet slippers.

“Mom,” Ethan whispered, eyes wide, “this is… this is--”

“Perfect!” Colleen crowed. She stepped back, examining the way the dress fell over his frame. “Look how nicely it drapes in the front. And those sleeves! They’re darling.”

“I’m not darling,” Ethan hissed. “I’m a boy.”

“Darling boy, then,” Colleen said. She gave him a wink. “I’d even say radiant.”

“Mom! Stop using that word!”

“Such a fussy little thing.” She grinned as she tugged the waist seam, making adjustments and stitched everything in place. “Be still, please.”

Ethan stood rigid. The cool cotton felt strange against his bare arms and the breeze from the fan made the skirt flutter around his legs. It felt wrong and right at the same time. Like he was trespassing in a world meant for someone else--but part of him wanted to stay anyway.

Colleen’s face softened. “Ethan, I know you don't always like this. But you really are helping me. I’m behind schedule, and I need to see how this hangs on a real person. You’re the perfect size.”

He scowled at his reflection in the mirror. His cheeks were pink. “Can I take it off now?”

Colleen glanced at her clock. “Not yet. We’ve got to run out for more seam tape. And I want Joanne to see how good my work looks.”

* * *

“Miss Joanne doesn’t need to see me in this dress.”

“Oh, but she does,” Colleen said cheerfully. She ran her brush through Ethan’s dark brown hair, then clipped an errant lock in place with a sparkly red barrette. “It’ll brighten her whole day.”

“I’ll wait in the car.”

“No, you won’t.”

“It’s hot in there.”

“It’s hotter out here.”

Ethan stood on the cracked sidewalk outside Joanne’s Fabrics, clutching the hem of the strawberry-print dress. The sun beat down, making the white cotton glow. Colleen had a determined look on her face as she pulled him toward the shop door.

“Mom, please, people are gonna see me.” He was desperate. “All I’ve got on underneath are panties!”

“It’s only Joanne,” Colleen said, pushing the door open. “And I promise I won’t show her your panties. Then again, she does love pretty things.”

“I’m not a pretty thing!”

Colleen gave him a dry look. “Could’ve fooled me.”

* * *

The bell jingled as Colleen marched Ethan through the door.

Sunlight streamed through the big plate-glass windows, falling across bolts of bright fabric stacked like rainbow towers. Fat spools of thread glowed on metal racks. The place reeked of feminine creativity.

Two little girls in ponytails stood near the front window. Their eyes went round as saucers when they saw Ethan in his strawberry-print dress and red ballet slippers. One girl whispered something to the other, and they both dissolved into giggles.

Ethan shrank against his mother. “Mom, they’re staring.”

“Oh, just ignore them.” Colleen winked and tilted her head toward a mannequin nearby, wearing a seafoam green satin prom gown. “Ignore her, too. She’s just jealous of you.”

“Mom, mannequins can’t be jealous.”

“Shows how much you know,” she said.

Joanne was behind the counter, sorting a stack of quarters. She looked up, eyes sparkling. “Well, butter my biscuit. Colleen Martin! And look at this precious blossom!”

“I’m not a blossom,” Ethan muttered. “I’m a boy.”

Joanne bustled over, tape measure swinging like a necklace. “Boy, girl, whatever you want to be, sweet pea. My goodness, you are as pretty as a peach! Or should I say a strawberry?”

“You remember my little helper, Ethan,” Colleen announced proudly. “And this is the dress I’ve been slaving over for Meredith Callahan’s garden party.”

“My goodness, Colleen, it is just gorgeous! And those red shoes are a nice touch.” Joanne put aside the coins and bustled over, tape measure swinging like a necklace. “Let me get a good look at you, honey. Spin around for me.”

Ethan hugged his arms around himself. “I’d rather not.”

“Spin for Joanne, baby.” Collen tapped him on the nose. “Please, and thank you.”

The flustered boy did as he was told. His face grew hot as the skirt swirled about like a red and white whirlwind. Girlish giggles echoed from the front of the shop.

“Happy now?” He blushed as he realized he might have accidentally showed off his panties.

His mother laughed. “Very.”

Joanne winked. “Shy as a church mouse. I love it.”

Colleen beamed. “Isn’t he darling? He’s been helping me cut patterns, press seams, thread machines. He’s my number one assistant.”

Joanne clutched her chest. “A boy who sews and models dresses? Colleen, you’ve struck gold.”

The two women chatted for a few minutes about the dress--Joanne was particularly impressed with Colleen’s attention to detail when it came to pleating--while Ethan kept a careful watch on his stalkers. The two little girls had taken up a position just a few aisles over, whispering and giggling and not caring that they’d been spotted.

He was about to ask if he could go to the car when the shopkeeper suddenly grabbed his hand and tugged the mortified boy over to a display of cotton prints. “Come here, honey. You like strawberries, hmm? So, tell me your opinion. Unicorns, hearts, or teddy bears? Or maybe… ooh! Kittens with bows!”

Ethan’s eyes went huge and he blushed to hear the sound of giggling from the other aisle.

“I don’t… I don’t need any fabric.”

Joanne picked up a bolt patterned in pastel cupcakes. “Now, this would make the cutest summer dress. What do you think? Is this something you’d wear?”

The cross-dressed boy squirmed. “It’s… a lot.”

Joanne cackled. “How old are you, honey bunny? Nine? Ten?”

“I’m twelve, almost thirteen!” He bristled. What is wrong with this lady? Is she blind?

“Almost thirteen? Well then, that makes a huge difference! I bet you’re the more sophisticated type, aren’t you.” She whisked him to another shelf. “How about chiffon? Or tulle? Mmm... you look like a boy who appreciates a nice drape.”

Ethan sputtered. “I don’t--Mom!”

Colleen folded her arms. “Well, he’s been wearing a lot of yellow lately.”

Joanne gasped. “Yellow? I love a confident man in yellow!” She dropped her voice to a stage whisper. “But pink’s a favorite, right, honey? I bet you just love pink.”

Ethan’s voice cracked. “I don’t love pink.”

Joanne leaned closer, her lipstick shimmering. “All right. So what is your favorite color, sweetheart?”

Ethan looked helplessly at his mother. “Um… blue?”

Colleen snorted. “Since when? You picked lemon yellow for the pillowcases. And what about that little housewife dress you always wear when you do your chores? Yellow gingham. And your favorite scarf?”

Ethan mumbled, “Yeah, um… yellow’s… fine.”

Joanne gave a squeal and pressed her palms to her cheeks. “Yellow it is! I’ve got the perfect buttercup satin for you.”

Ethan turned three shades redder as Joanne rummaged behind the counter and produced a bolt of silky yellow fabric. He looked up at his mother. The smirk on her face was not encouraging.

“See? Lovely drape, perfect for flouncy skirts. Or even a nice blouse!”

Colleen elbowed Ethan gently. “Feel it. It’s soft.”

Ethan touched the satin and immediately snatched his fingers away. “It’s slippery.”

Joanne beamed. “The best fabric always is.”

The two little girls were now nearer, just down the aisle. One cupped her hand around her mouth and stage-whispered, “See, he is a boy! And he’s wearing a dress.”

Ethan’s shoulders hunched. “Can we go home now?”

Joanne planted her hands on her hips. “Not yet, mister. You still need notions. What about lace trim? Do you like it frilly, or plain?”

Ethan nearly wailed. “Mommm--!”

Colleen was trying not to laugh. “Just answer the nice lady, Ethan.”

“Plain!” Ethan barked. “If I have to pick.”

“We do use a lot of lace, and eyelet trim.” His mother nudged him. “Don’t we, sweetheart?”

“I guess--”

Joanne leaned close. “I’ll remember that when you come work for me.”

“I’m not working here!” Ethan practically yelped.

Joanne gave him a conspiratorial smile. “We’ll see, honey. We’ll see.”

Colleen chuckled and gave Joanne a look. “He’s secretly enjoying himself. He just doesn’t like to show it. He’s really into the details of what we do. He actually figured out our new sewing machine before I did and he’s teaching me all about it.”

“Is he now? Well now, that is very interesting.” Joanne squinted at Ethan. “Tell me, sweet pea, do you know the difference between invisible zippers and regular ones?”

Once again Ethan looked up at his mother. She nodded, indicating that he should answer. “Um, well, invisible ones have the coils on the back so you don’t see them in the seam.”

Joanne let out a delighted laugh. “Listen to him! Not many boys know that.”

Colleen nodded proudly. “None that I know of, that’s for certain.”

He heard laughter. The two little girls had moved closer, staring and pointing and whispering to each other. Worried that they might want to start a conversation, he moved close to his mother and clung to her skirt. His ballet slippers squeaked softly on the linoleum.

Colleen continued bragging, her voice echoing throughout the shop. “Ethan’s a very helpful little boy. He also does our laundry. And he keeps the kitchen in order. He even does all the vacuuming and the dusting.”

Ethan scowled as the girls burst out laughing. More whispering ensued. “He’s just like Cinderella!” one of them declared, a bit too loudly for polite company.

“He washes the clothes, too?” Joanne gasped, clutching her chest. “Oh, Colleen, you lucky thing! You’ve got yourself a gem.”

“He’s a gem all right,” Colleen agreed, ruffling her son’s hair. “Though sometimes he raises a fuss when I dress him up.”

Joanne’s eyes sparkled. “Aw, you look just precious.” She touched the barrette on Ethan’s hair and cooed: “I hope your boyfriend appreciates how cute you are.”

Ethan’s jaw dropped. “I do not have a boyfriend!” His ears and neck burned as more snickering came from his surreptitious audience.

“Omigosh, he’s got a boyfriend!” one of the little girls stage-whispered. “How funny!”

“Oh, honey. I’m only teasing.” Joanne patted his cheek. “But you let me know if you get the hankering. I will hook you up!”

“Mom--”

Joanne snickered. “You do make a beautiful model, though. Just plain adorable!”

Colleen chimed in, “Joanne, you ought to hire him. He’d be great here. Keep your thread rack tidy and greet customers looking cute as a button.”

“Mom!” Ethan’s voice shot up an octave. “No, thank you!”

Joanne pretended to pout.

“Oh, shucks. Well, sweetheart, if you ever change your mind, I’ll pay you in fabric scraps and peppermint candies.” The shopkeeper leaned in and whispered, “And if you ever decide to run away from home, Auntie Joanne will adopt you in a minute!”

Colleen burst out laughing. Ethan glared at her.

“I’m moving to Australia,” he muttered.

“You keep saying that.”

Colleen made her purchases and the two women gossiped for a while. Ethan tried to ignore them. He watched with relief when the mother of the two little girls finally appeared. There was more whispering and laughter, and the family left the store, the girls chatting excitedly about the sissy boy in the dress.

He hoped they didn’t have any brothers or sisters who went to his school.

After a while Ethan grew impatient. His mother and the shopkeeper were laughing about something he was pretty sure he didn’t want to know about. Frustrated, he pulled out his lip balm--Colleen often included hidden pockets in her creations for “baubles and secrets”--and he applied a quick coat, more so to pass the time than any real need. He smacked his lips and fretted over the odds that someone he knew might come through the front door at that very moment.

He was contemplating the fragrance of cherries when a tap on the shoulder startled him. He looked up to see Colleen and Miss Joanne grinning at him. Realizing he’d been caught doing something “cute,” he quickly put away his chapstick, his cheeks pink as the two women exchanged knowing glances.

Colleen pointed to a shelf. “Sweetheart, isn’t that the Little Miss sewing kit you were drooling over in that catalog?”

“I wasn’t drooling over it!” Ethan blurted.

His mother lifted an eyebrow. “Oh really? As I remember it, you wouldn’t stop talking about the pink-handled scissors. Or how the tailor’s chalk was nicer than the cheap stuff.”

Ethan’s face burned. “I was just…looking, that’s all. I… I didn’t really want it.”

Joanne leaned forward, elbows on the counter. “Do you like sewing, sweetheart?”

Ethan shuffled his feet. “A little. I guess.”

“What’s in that kit that caught your interest?”

He tried to look indifferent, but his mother gave him a hard stare. He just sighed and gave up. “Well, the tailor’s chalk is pretty nice. And it’s got the good bias tape, not the cheap stuff. And it’s got real metal thimbles. Plastic ones crack.”

Joanne clapped her hands. “You see? I love a boy who knows notions.”

Colleen crowed, “That’s my Ethan!”

“A boy who’s as special as you are deserves a special reward.” Joanne lifted the pink and white box containing the kit off the shelf and held it out. “Here, hon. It’s yours. A gift from your Auntie Joanne.”

He stared at the proffered gift. “I can’t take that.”

“Yes, you can,” Joanne insisted. “Smart kids deserve good tools.”

Colleen nudged him. “Say thank you, Ethan.”

He took the kit carefully, as though it might explode. “Th… thank you, Miss Joanne.”

The shopkeeper sighed. “Please, darlin’, call me Auntie Joanne.”

Ethan glanced up to see his mother’s raised eyebrow. He swallowed, then said, “Thank you, Auntie Joanne.”

Joanne gave him a loving hug, pressing his face in between her breasts. “You’re very welcome, sweetheart.”

As he pulled away, Ethan looked down at the box, trying to fight a silly grin. He wished he could vanish, and yet… a tiny spark of pride lit in his chest, warm as sunshine.

* * *

Back in the car, Ethan sat hugging the Little Miss sewing kit. He tried to hide it in his lap as they pulled away from Joanne’s, but failed miserably.

Colleen glanced over. “See? That wasn’t so terrible.”

“I guess,” Ethan muttered. He thought about the two girls and sighed. “Well, a little.”

Colleen reached over and flicked his skirt. “We should stop for shoes next. Maybe something with a little bow at the toe? I hear your favorite color is yellow.”

“Mom!”

“Just kidding,” she said, laughing. “Mostly.”

“I don’t want shoes.”

“How about ice cream then?”

Ethan hesitated, then nodded.

* * *

They ended up on a park bench away from the crowd, shaded by a big willow tree. Birds chirped above them as Colleen handed Ethan a cone dripping with vanilla.

“Mom,” Ethan said between bites, “I thought you had a deadline. Aren’t you supposed to be sewing right now?”

Colleen leaned back, eyes half-closed against the breeze. “Sometimes it’s all right to take a break. Besides, Joanne was half my work today. I knew she’d help me feel better. You did, too.”

Ethan licked a drip off his cone. “She embarrassed me.”

Colleen smiled. “A little embarrassment is good for you. Builds character.”

Ethan scowled. “I have enough character.”

Colleen chuckled. “Maybe. But it makes me proud when you’re brave.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, then peeked down at the sewing kit in his lap. The case was childish, pink plastic with molded flowers all over. The contents were interesting enough, though. “I really didn’t want this.”

“I don't believe that for a minute.” Colleen winked at him. “You do know you’re allowed to like pretty things, even if you’re a boy.”

He opened the kit and picked through its contents. “It’s kinda…cool. The scissors are the good metal ones. Like the ones you have. Just pink.”

Colleen nodded. “They’ll last you forever.”

Ethan sighed. “I still don’t want new shoes.”

“I know,” Colleen said, laughing. “But it was worth a try. Next time, though, I won’t take no for an answer.”

The very thought sent a shiver down the cross-dressed boy’s spine. He immediately pictured a store filled with little pony-tailed girls standing over him as he tried on shoe after shoe after shoe…

He tried to shove the image out of his head, but it stuck.

As they finished their cones, a breeze rustled the maple leaves overhead. Colleen brushed a smear of ice cream from Ethan’s chin, then licked her finger.

“You know,” she said, “I think you’re going to be the best dressmaker in the family.”

“I’m not gonna be a dressmaker.”

“Of course not,” she teased. “You’re going to be a world-famous fashion designer.”

Ethan groaned. “Mommm!”

But he couldn’t help the tiny smile tugging at the corners of his lips. As much as he wished he could hide, a small part of him felt special, sitting there in a strawberry-print dress with melted ice cream on his fingers, a brand-new sewing kit on his lap.

And if he ever decided he did want to be a designer… well… at least he’d have the right scissors.

Next up: Maid to Order