Page 15 of Painted

“Oooh!” Rebecca elongated the syllable teasingly, which went a long way to make them feel at ease. “And what did you have hidden in your underwear drawer?”

“Underwear,” Early said, their face heating to a ridiculous degree for what felt like the millionth time that morning. “Lacy, silky underwear.”

“No!” Rebecca gasped, her eyes bright with amusement and affection. “Early, you naughty narwhal!”

That had Early laughing out loud. It felt so amazing that at least half of the tension and dread they’d been carrying around all day melted away.

“So what if I like something soft and silky against my narwhal bits?” they asked with a fey shrug of one shoulder, switching to another rack of more feminine clothes.

“I take it your dad didn’t like it,” Rebecca said, continuing to the back of the room and the dozen or so plastic bins stacked against the wall.

“No,” Early said as they flicked through the racks of shirts and blouses with a lighter heart. “Once he found the panties, he decided to help himself to a look around the rest of my room.”

They paused and glanced to where Rebecca was taking a bin down from the top of one pile, then let go of the last of their hesitation and spilled the whole story.

“I haven’t really told my parents that I’ve been giving the whole non-binary thing a try,” they said. “I mean, they know how I like to dress and that I like my hair long. I’ve never tried on make-up at home, and honestly, I don’t know if I’m that kind of enby, because I don’t really like the feeling of make-up on my face. They know I like boys, and for some reason they’ve been marginally okay with that. I think my dad is just sore that his son doesn’t really feel like hissonanymore, if you know what I mean.”

“Well, as a practicing pansexual with barmy, pan-poly-free love-hippie parents, I can’t really say I identify with your exact situation,” Rebecca said, her voice strained as she carried the bin she’d chosen up to the front of the room. She put it downon a table near Early with a grunt, then went on with, “But I am sympathetic to what you’re saying.”

“Thanks for that,” Early smiled. “It means a lot.”

Rebecca smiled and winked. Then her expression shifted to a combination of shock and sentiment as her gaze dropped to the dress Early had taken off the rack.

“That was one of Raina’s favorites,” she said, full of emotion.

Early immediately felt like they’d accidentally taken a holy relic from a museum shelf. “Oh, sorry,” they said, quickly putting it back.

“No, no, don’t be,” Rebecca reassured him, stepping away from the table. She ran her hands over all the clothes on that particular rack. “All of these were Raina’s. I guess Nick moved them up here to make room for the kids’ stuff.”

“I won’t touch any of it, then,” Early said, moving to a different rack. “I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“I’m sure she wouldn’t mind,” Rebecca said, picking out another dress on a hanger from Raina’s rack. “She had such fabulous taste.”

“She did,” Early agreed. “But honestly, I’m not sure I’m ready to go the full ballgown look yet.”

Rebecca grinned at the sparkly dress she held, then put it back on the rack. “Whenever you’re ready,” she said, then nodded at the sliver of sparkly material that was still visible.

“I don’t know if I ever will be,” Early said, relaxing a little as they looked through a more masculine, but definitely retro, rack of clothes. “That’s the thing about, well, everything in my life right now. I don’t know who I am yet. I don’t know what I want.” Except Rhys.

“I don’t think it’s a race to find out,” Rebecca said, going back to the bin she’d taken down. “There are days when I don’t have a clue who I am or what I want either, and I’m thirty now. You’ve got time.”

Early hummed. “Tell that to my parents.”

Rebecca laughed as she removed the lid from the bin. A moment later, she said, “Here you go. These should be perfect for you.”

Early glanced over from where they’d just picked out a plain black pair of slacks that looked like they were the right size only to find Rebecca holding up an enormous pair of sateen granny panties.

They burst into laughter and shook their head.

“God, no!” they said, taking the trousers over to look into the bin. “I’m not that desperate. Ooh, but these look nice.”

They pulled out a pair of cotton lace bikini undies that just might have been enough to keep them contained.

The next fifteen minutes was spent going through more of the contents of the clothes room and finding something to wear. It was one of the most fascinating rooms Early had yet been in at Hawthorne House, and that was saying something. Whenever Ryan Hawthorne returned from Milan to teach his fashion design course, he would definitely find a lot of interesting pieces to work with and from.

In the end, Early went far more conservative than they could have. They walked out of the clothing room dressed in the plain black slacks, but with an androgynous, nineteen-eighties silk shirt of blue, purple, and turquoise. The panties fit well enough, but their big gamble was the modest heels they’d found at the bottom of a bin of shoes. Some woman at some point in the history of the house had been blessed with enormous feet. Early’s feet were average for their height, even if they thought they were huge, so the heels fit.

They’d never worn heels, though, and walking in them turned out to be slightly more of a challenge than they’d anticipated.

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