The Portrait of Edward Gray

[sissyboy1212]

A Proper Wardrobe at Last

       With that matter settled, Aunt Patricia then turned brightly to Sabrina. “Well, I think that will do it, dear,” she said with satisfaction. She added jovially, “at least for today!” She continued, “please total everything up for us and put it all on my card.” As Aunt Patricia reached into her purse and handed over a sleek black credit card with silver trim, she exclaimed, “What a successful afternoon!”

       Next, Aunt Patricia nudged Edward forward slightly and kept one hand lightly between his shoulder blades as she spoke, “I know my nephew is just dying to wear his adorable new outfits, so why wait?” Edward’s stomach jumped as Aunt Patricia tapped a finger against her chin in thought. Then, having made up her mind, she turned to Sabrina and instructed, “please be a dear and put him back into that first charming blue dress—the one with the lace trim. The matching Mary Janes with it, I think, and a pair of the white anklets… and, oh yes, his delightful new petticoat. Our little ‘petticoat princess’ will wear all that home.” She smiled and concluded, “please box everything else up for us.”

       Edward cringed at being called a “petticoat princess,” but it seemed the sissyish nickname was growing on his aunt.

       A little later, as they prepared to depart Morgan & Tate’s, Edward stood near the fitting-room mirrors fetchingly attired in his new baby blue dress with the delicately embroidered lace trim. After pocketing a very substantial commission, Sabrina and Skye had taken pains over every detail to ensure he was picture perfect for his aunt! The white sash and bow complemented the vintage-inspired style of the dress, and his new petticoat rustled and swished gaily with each step. The lace at the hem of his skirt brushed his knees whenever he shifted his weight. A darling pair of white frilly anklets and his new pastel blue Mary Janes adorned his feet. He delicately clutched his dainty white purse because Aunt Patricia had told him not to let it dangle “like a sack.”

       Edward was taken off guard again when Skye said, “Please indulge me, but I’ve been wanting to add a darling last touch to your look.” Before he could react, she produced a small tube of pink gloss from beside the register.

       Belatedly, Edward drew back, “No, please, I don’t need—”

       “Hush sweetie… let’s just try a little,” she interrupted, smiling at him in the mirror, “Be still for me.” She twisted the cap free and dabbed the delicate shine across his lower lip, then the upper, quick and careful as if she were finishing a display. Aunt Patricia and Sabrina watched this little exchange with charmed smiles. “There,” Skye said, “Adorable!”

       Edward reluctantly pressed his lips together and tasted the sweet, waxy lip gloss with chagrin. Looking in the mirror, he saw the prominent shimmer it left behind.

       Skye slipped the tube into his new purse and patted the clasp shut. “My treat,” she said brightly.

       Aunt Patricia beamed. “How thoughtful.” Then, she urged her nephew, “What do we say, dear?”

       Edward’s cheeks warmed to pair sweetly with the fresh shine on his lips. “Uh… thanks,” he murmured.

       Aunt Patricia’s smile sharpened pleasantly. “Oh, darling you can do better than that, I’m sure! A proper thank-you is more than simply mouthing the words,” she prompted. “Tell Miss Skye what you are thankful for.”

       Edward swallowed and glanced toward the little purse. “Thank you for the… my… pretty lip gloss... Miss Skye,” he said, his voice small and sheepish.

       Sabrina then piped in. “Do you know what would make it absolutely perfect?” she asked, already reaching for the charming straw boater hat with its pretty chiffon bow. A moment later, it was settled daintily atop Edward’s curls, completing a fetching little picture.

       By then, word of the spectacle in the girls’ department had traveled farther than Edward realized. Clerks from other departments found excuses to linger near the main aisle. Even a few shoppers slowed with bags tucked against their elbows. A couple of college-aged boys from the men’s department came to gawk and snicker as well. As Edward emerged, the ordinary store noises thinned around him. Conversations dipped, then resumed in hushed little bursts.

       “Oh, isn’t he precious,” one clerk said, loudly enough that the words carried down the aisle.

       “Just like a little doll,” another called out. The tittering compliment drew a quick ripple of laughter from two women near the makeup counter. “I heard his aunt bought half the department!” she added.

       As he walked timidly beside his glowing Aunt Patricia, Sabrina pushed a cart behind them overflowing with ribboned boxes, shoe cartons, tissue-wrapped parcels, and shopping bags. Skye followed with a chrome luggage cart, its rail crowded with white hanging garment bags containing all his lovely new dresses.

       When they reached the car, Aunt Patricia turned to Sabrina and Skye and spoke to them gaily. “You girls have been marvelous with getting my little nephew into a much more appropriate wardrobe. We will certainly remember your help.”

       Sabrina and Skye chuckled gaily as they realized what a generous commission they had both just earned.

       “I can’t wait for you to come back for some more nice outfits, honey,” Sabrina gushed to Edward.

       “Thank you so much for letting us help you and this little sweetie pie today,” Skye added enthusiastically, patting Edward fondly on his shoulder, “See you next time!”

       Edward squirmed in embarrassment. “Next time…?” he thought dejectedly.

       When they finally returned home, Aunt Patricia looked more triumphant than ever, with Edward beside her in his baby blue dress and the car emptied of a startling number of boxes, bags, and garment sleeves. Edward’s mother stopped short at the sight of him, then at the parcels being carried in. Her eyebrows arched as she took in just how much Aunt Patricia had bought. For a moment she seemed ready to say something about the extravagance of it all, but the remark never came. Instead, she let her gaze settle on Edward’s straw boater and said, “What a precious little hat, dear.”

       Aunt Patricia smiled jauntily and said, “Now our little darling will have a proper wardrobe to choose from at last.”

       One by one, Aunt Patricia excitedly opened the packages in the den like treasure from a voyage Edward had not agreed to take. She relished describing them and holding them up against her nephew to show them off to her sister. His mother had an air of silent acceptance as she lifted the pink floral sundress, then the lavender one. She gave a barely audible gasp when she saw the elaborately girlish cream and apricot party dress. Her expression looked more thoughtful than surprised when the matching pink and purple satin party dresses were unveiled. She seemed to really like the sage green chiffon creation. Despite herself, she giggled quietly when she saw the rhumba tights with the pink hearts.

       Edward stood powerlessly in his dainty blue dress, wanting to recoil as each new garment was revealed. Everything felt so much more permanent now.

       Before his Aunty left for the evening, she took great pleasure in making sure all his pretty new things were hung prominently in his bedroom closet or folded daintily in his dresser drawers. She moved through his room with pleased authority, opening drawers, shifting stacks, making little decisions in a tone that invited no discussion. Hairbows were laid in careful rows like prizes; lace anklets were paired and folded; panties and bralettes were tucked into his top drawer where his ordinary underwear had always been.

       Aunt Patricia then cleaned out space for his new footwear, “Shoes do so much to finish a look.” The black Mary Janes were set side by side beneath the dresses, followed by the white summer pair, the ivory ballet flats, the T-strap sandals with silver buckles, the strappy white peep-toes with their tiny bowknots, the black penny loafers, and his glitter-pink “princess shoes.”

       To his chagrin, most of his boys’ clothes were unceremoniously shoved into large garbage bags and stored in the guest room closet to “save space.” Tee shirts, shorts, old sneakers, and loose pajamas disappeared with a sad rustle of plastic. Aunt Patricia smiled all the while, saying how much neater and organized everything would be now, but Edward felt as though his room had been quietly conquered. His closet door now opened on a girlish new wardrobe of frilly dresses and darling shoes. Everything in his room seemed to retreat behind satin, lace, ribbons, and the steady certainty of Aunt Patricia’s voice.

[sissybaby34]

Everyone needs an Aunt Patricia!

[sissyboy1212]

Aunt Patricia Stays for Dinner

       By now it was well into the early evening. With a small, barely audible sigh, Edward’s mother seemed to realize that Patricia was in no apparent hurry to leave. Her sister had settled in comfortably, and the row of newly arranged dresses in Edward’s closet had done little to satisfy her energy.

       Eventually, Marian glanced toward the clock and then toward the kitchen. “Patricia,” she said, with resigned politeness, “since you are still here, and we haven’t eaten, would you like to stay for dinner?”

       Aunt Patricia accepted at once, looking pleasantly unsurprised by the offer. “That would be lovely, Marian, thank you! Don’t go to any trouble on my account… just whatever you were planning.”

       Edward’s heart sank. He had hoped dinner would be the first normal thing to happen since morning, but that hope quickly faded. Of course, he remained dressed in the pretty blue frock from Morgan & Tate’s. Although the straw boater was now put away in his bedroom, Aunt Patricia had insisted on pinning a new blue hair bow neatly in his curls in place of the hat.

       Dinner was simple, but to Edward it dragged on forever. Aunt Patricia relished the opportunity to give Edward pointers on his table manners. She watched him with bright, satisfied attention, correcting the way he used his napkin and ate his food. “Little bites, dear” she chided. Then, when he reached for his glass, she added, “Napkin first. Just dab, sweetheart. A light touch—there, like that.”

       Edward tried to obey while heat repeatedly crept up his face. Aunt Patricia seemed to delight in each little bit of helpful advice. The conversation thankfully drifted to mundane things—the vegetables, the weather, whether the bread needed warming. As the meal finished, however, Aunt Patricia folded her hands and seemed to remember something with bright amusement. “Oh, Edward,” she said, “I noticed that lovely doll I gave you at Easter earlier in the den. I hope you’ve been enjoying him.”

       Edward nearly froze beside his chair. He had tried to forget the vintage doll on the shelf, posed stiffly in its little chair, but Aunt Patricia’s expectant look caught him off guard. With warming cheeks, he murmured, “Uh, yes Aunty… it’s very nice.”

       Aunt Patricia leaned back slightly now, with a playful and expectant smile. “Tell me, dear, I’ve been meaning to ask, what did you name him?”

       Edward blinked. “Name him, Aunty?”

       Aunt Patricia’s eyebrows rose in exaggerated shock. “Now Edward, don’t tell me you never gave him a name.” She placed a hand against her chest and grinned brightly, mock scandalized. “Oh sweetheart, a doll like that is not a paperweight. Dolls are meant to be treasured and loved, and they ought to have proper names!”

       With burning cheeks, Edward murmured, “Uh… yes, Aunty.” He had a helplessly bewildered look on his face. It seemed surreal that he was having this conversation at all. He added lamely, “I didn’t really think…”

       “Oh my goodness, dear, then we must think now,” Patricia said pleasantly. “Such a nice doll needs a proper name… He shouldn’t sit there anonymously after all this time.” She added cheerfully, “Luckily your Aunt Patricia is here to help! Why don’t you go fetch him so we can decide what we will call him?” It was phrased as a question, but her tone expected compliance.

       Blushing, Edward slipped away to the den, conscious of his rustling petticoat as he rose and skittered obediently away. This whole business of naming a doll felt utterly sissifying. It made him cringe to know that he would soon be doing it. When he returned, he held the doll awkwardly against his chest. The doll’s little blue knee suit was neat and crisp, with his tiny jacket, short trousers, stockings, and polished shoes. Edward winced as he remembered how Aunt Patricia had described it as his “little twin,” exactly matching the outfit she had given him for Easter. Dressed as he was now, however, he and the doll no longer looked like twins... at least not twin boys.

       Aunt Patricia patted the chair beside her for Edward to sit back down. Edward obeyed gingerly, folding himself into the chair with his cheeks already warm and the doll held stiffly on his lap. His mother watched with a faint, uncertain smile. Edward could feel his pretty blue dress spread neatly around his knees, and his petticoat gave a betraying little swish every time he shifted.

       Aunt Patricia’s eyes sparkled as she watched Edward hold his doll. “He really is a handsome little fellow, isn’t he?”

       Edward gulped, but he remained silent as his aunt seemed to draw out the moment.

       “Well now,” Aunt Patricia continued, “What should we call him?”

       It was obvious that Aunt Patricia expected him to suggest some names. She sat back with an encouraging little smile, patient and bright-eyed, as though they had all the time in the world for this decision. Edward stared down at the doll on his lap, and his mind went blank. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Teenage boys didn’t name dolls… little girls did! “I don’t know, Aunty,” he muttered finally, grasping for names, “Maybe… maybe Tommy?”

       Aunt Patricia tilted her head. “Tommy... short for Thomas?” she repeated, as if testing the name out. "Wasn't your little friend from lunch named Tommy too?" she giggled. After a moment, she gave a little shake of her head and said, “No, I don’t think so. That sounds much too plain. Try another one, sweetheart.”

       Edward gave a helpless little shrug. Then, he remembered a musical he had watched on television with his mother a while back. “Uh… Oliver?” he tried.

       “Hmmm… somewhat better,” Aunt Patricia allowed, smiling. “But not quite, I think. He doesn't look like an 'Ollie' to me. He has such a sweet, serious face, and he does resemble you so much... that was why I chose him for you, you know.” She said it fondly, but Edward felt a weight behind her words. Her smile sharpened with pleasure. “He needs a name with more breeding.” Then she smiled, as if she had just had a pleasant inspiration, “I know… what do you think of Percy, sweetheart?”

       Edward swallowed. “Percy?” he repeated, the effete name emerging more like a question than a decision.

       Patricia’s face brightened. “Percy,” she repeated, pleased. “Yes. I think that suits him rather nicely. Percy is the diminutive of Percival, of course—an elegant name, just like Edward.” She looked at him intently, enjoying the comparison. “Dear little Percy in his blue knee suit, sitting there like your pretty little double.” She chuckled, satisfied by the success of this little exchange. “There now. That feels right, doesn’t it?”

       Edward said nothing. Aunt Patricia’s smile lingered as she took another small sip of water.

       “Percy it is,” she decided approvingly, “I do expect he gets lonely on that shelf in the den by himself all the time…” Her gaze flicked to Edward for the briefest instant with a smile, “He really should stay with you in your room.” Then, as an afterthought, she set down her glass and said, “I also would think Percy is a little jealous of your pretty new wardrobe now.” She laughed at once, as if it were a charming little joke, and waved the idea away with her fingers. “Oh, listen to me. Imagine dressing dolls at my age.” But the laugh did not quite clear the air. Something in the casual way Patricia had said it, and in the pleased little glance she gave Edward afterward, made his skin prickle.