[milkman56]

Excerpt:

Again the next day she wore the blue dress. Again the bobby sock and penny loafers. I commented that I thought the dress ought to be dry-cleaned. And she looked worried and asked if I had seen anything spilled on it. I said I had not but that she had worn everyday to work for more than a week. She fidgeted when we got the jewelry shop. She did not seem to want to get out of the car. I asked again if she had to work late. She said: “Maybe a little.” She did not want me to pick her up.

She got out of the car. Mr. Miller at the front door, unlocking it for her, smiled and waved at me and I went off to work.

Karen’s own story about the day is the best that I have. Bob was not involved, or he didn’t think it was important, or Miller didn’t tell him. She was anxious most of the day. She did not know when things would happen or how. She only vaguely knew that some friends of Mr. Miller would show up and that she must take off her clothes for them. She was nervous about every middle-aged man who came into the shop. It was an unusually busy day. Mr. Miller stayed in the shop with her all morning. She began to hope that he had changed his mind, or had not meant it.

The shop was still busy at noon when Mr. Miller usually closed up. She had a customer. Mr. Miller had a customer. There were two young girls, browsing and waiting to be served. That is when the two Arthurs came in. She saw Mr. Miller nod at them and they stared at her. She felt a sick pang, a strange twinge in her groin, like a fear of falling. The customer, a middle-aged woman with more make-up and money than was decent, was obviously annoyed by her inattention. Mr. Miller finished with his customer and interceded to help Karen, excusing her, apologizing to the customer, “….the young lady has some work to do in the back.”

Karen went to the workroom. She did not know what she should do. The stool was in the corner where Bob had put it the day before. She sat on it. The two Arthurs came in. They looked at her, but seemed just as nervous as she was. No one said anything. They stayed by the door, waiting for Mr. Miller to finish with his customer. She sat without speaking, looking at the floor. If she did not look up, they stared at her. She did not look up, feeling embarrassed and anxious.

Mr. Miller was several more minutes while the three of them waited in awkward silence—these two “friends” whom she could not look at without embarrassment, old as her father, one of whom looked like a man she knew from church, who had come to see her take off her clothes; and my poor nervous blushing wife who was about to deliberately and willingly strip naked for them.

“You Mrs.____________?” One of them spoke to her. She did not look up.

They waited for her reply. “You that girl who works for Al?” The other asked.

She replied softy: “Yes….”

“You __________ ‘s wife?” Using my first name like they knew me. When she told me this Karen had asked me: “Do you really know them?” I said I may have met them. Then I remembered: I had seen them and talked to them the next night. The night after she had stripped in front of them. I remembered the strange conversation.

They said no more. Karen did not look up until Mr. Miller came into the room. He had locked the front door but he also closed the workroom door. The two men hardly moved. He had to suggest they step into the room, so that he could close the door.

They remained then at the distance of some twenty feet from where Karen sat in the corner, her hands in he lap.

Mr. Miller understood what he must do. He looked at his two friends and nodded: “You ready?”

They nodded.

He looked at Karen and asked: “You ready?”

She nodded. “Okay….” Miller sat on his stool against the workbench; he leaned against it. He poured brandy into his tea cup and looked up at Karen. “This is Arthur. And he’s named Arthur too. They know your husband.” They nodded.

He drank more of his brandy. He said again: “Okay…. Stand up….”

Karen stepped forward as she stood. She put her arms down. She looked quizzically at Mr. Miller with her head leaning; she could not look at these men. She did not want to do this. She did not understand why Mr. Miller wanted her to do this. It seemed especially bad that her husband knew them; it was like undressing for her cousins.

“Okay….” He looked at Arthur and Arthur and said: “Okay, boys…. This is Karen, __________’s wife. You can get closer to see her better, you know.” They did not move.

He looked at Karen and said with some deliberation: “You can stay standing right where you are, but once you’ve got all your clothes off, I want you to come over here closer to these guys.”

He turned back to look at the two men, who seemed as stunned as Karen felt: ““Once she’s got her clothes off, give her a feel…. That’s okay… But no fucking.”