We've been at this awhile now, Readers, but there are new people to this site. New Readers, please click on the My Novel-in-Progress link to catch up with us. Thanks for joining us and any comments are welcome, even the bad ones. And yes, I already know that some of the language is offensive. Believe me, I've toned it down from what one actually hears when strolling the boardwalk or bars of Alaska.
“Hey, hey, hey, Baby,” Enrico slid over to me,” I got a bottle of peppermint schnapps, a quarter of the best doobie in South East and a couple of steamer tickets. What do you say?”
I looked at him blankly. “I’ve got to wash my hair.” I touched one slimy, gloved hand to my bangs sticking out from under my cap.
Enrico had a good, long laugh, then rebutted, “You can do that in the steamer, Baby, and I’ll even help you.”
I’m sure he thought that he was being charming and debonair. I was about to set him straight when someone tugged my arm from behind hard enough to make me stumble.
It was the Brat—Jaimie. “What?” I asked indignantly.
“Tell him yes,” she whispered urgently.
“What?” I repeated, but this time with shock and outrage.
“Tell him yes. I want to go, too, but I don’t want to be the only girl. I’m only eighteen for Pete’s sake. Give me a break. Everyone I was hanging out with left on the ferry. Please say yes. I really like Enrico.”
I rolled my eyes to the heavens and then looked at Joy for guidance. Enrico stood behind her waiting patiently.
“Don’t look at me,” Joy said bluntly. “I’m going to the room and sleeping. I’d just as soon you went to the steamer so you won’t be talking to me.”
“I guess so,” I told Enrico a little rudely.
He didn’t mind and whooped and hollered and danced away with a freezer truck.
I looked at Joy and Jaimie. “This feels a little too Shakespearean for me. I hope it all ends well, but I’ve got a bad feeling.”
************************************************************************
The village was quiet, the rain heavy and warm, for Alaska, that is. Jaimie and I walked down the boardwalk toward the Wet Goods together, clutching store bags filled with toiletries and clean clothes. I felt as though I were walking to the gas chamber and was silently cursing myself for being so damned pliable. Why say yes when I wanted nothing less than to shower with Enrico? What the hell was the matter with me? Meanwhile, Jaimie had been nervously talking non-stop under her breath ever since we left the bunkhouse and her nervousness was contagious. Why hadn’t I bothered to ask about steamer etiquette before agreeing to this?
“So, are you going to go in naked?” Jaimie asked me. “Or wear your bra and underwear or just your underwear or what? I brought shorts and a t-shirt I could wear in there, but I don’t want to look like some dopy little kid. But I don’t want to walk in there naked and find that they have their underwear on?”
“They?” I asked in an ominous tone.
“Oh, yeah, Enrico’s friend Bill, the Crab Plant foreman is going to be there, too.”
“What?” I was outraged. “But I don’t even know the guy and I’m supposed to sit around and shower with him?”
“Oh, don’t be such a prude!” Jaimie, who had brought along shorts and a t-shirt, snapped at me.
I rolled my eyes and shook my head and grimly entered the Wet Goods.
The man behind the counter looked grizzled and ancient, reeked faintly of sweat and booze and cigarettes.
“We’d like to take a steamer,” I told him.
“You want the little one or are you the gals Enrico’s expecting?”
“The little one,” I replied.
“With Enrico,” Jaimie said at the same time and kicked me.
The old man squinted at me a moment then grunted and gestured with head and hand to the side. “Meet you on the other side,” he said, disappearing through a side door behind the counter.
I looked around. One small building and I felt lost.
“This way!” Jaimie said impatiently. I followed her out the door and through another door just a few feet down.
The old man handed us each a small stack of towels. “There you go,” he said and pointed to a door. “Enrico bought plenty of Club Cocktails for all of you,” he said.
“It’s only just after 10:00 in the morning,” I protested.
“What’s your point?” the old man rasped and disappeared back to the other side.
“Let’s get this over with,” I said to Jaimie. She took a deep breath and we opened the door…
For some reason I had expected the guys to be right on the other side of the door. The sight of the small dressing room took me aback. I looked around trying to gauge what the guys might or might not be wearing. Enrico, unbelievably, appeared to be a neat freak and I didn’t want to rummage through his stuff.
“Well?” Jaimie whispered desperately, “what are you going to wear? Do you just want to leave?”
I gave her a look, tried to raise one eyebrow, but it refused to respond appropriately. The brat deserved to be tortured for getting me into this mess.
Silently, I raised one hand to silence and calm her. Then I leaned against the door jam, opened the door just enough to stick my head in and called out sweetly, “Hi, guys, we’ll be in in just a sec.”
“Ok,” they chorused politely through the thick fog.
“Tricky,” Jaimie said admiringly. “Were they naked?”
“Could be,” I said, “it’s hard to see in there, but I doubt it. And even if they are, I’m not. I’m not about to get naked with Enrico, then have to deal with him at work. Not to mention a foreman.”
“So what are you wearing?” Jaimie asked plaintively.
Again, I didn’t reply. I gave her a mocking smile and began to disrobe and fold my clothes. She stood there and watched. When I got down to my black thong-style teddy, Jaimie’s mouth dropped open.
“Wow,” she said, “I don’t own anything close to that.” She sounded a little wistful.
“We’ll have to order you one,” I said. “It’s no big deal and it’s hideous from behind because I don’t have the behind to pull it off. But, whatever; it is what it is and I like it anyway. Not like I have to look at my own butt.”
I sat down and felt oddly composed as I waited for Jaimie who just stood there and did nothing.
“Well,” I said. “What’s it going to be?”
She shook her head and sighed. Looking very unhappy, she stripped down to a ratty bra and even rattier underwear. Then she pulled out big, baggy shorts and a huge t-shirt.
“No way,” I said and stood up to help. “Take those off.” She took off the shorts and t-shirt. “Keep going,” I said.
“I am not going in there naked!” she whispered fiercely.
“Don’t worry,” I whispered back. “But you’re going to have to start being a little nicer to me.” I took my clean bra and underwear out of my bag and handed them to her. “Because I hate not wearing a bra or underwear under my clothes, but I will suffer through the walk back to the bunkhouse, just for you. And you are going to order some decent underclothes when you get paid. And I will pick them out.”
“Ok,” Jaimie nodded solemnly and stroked the garments I’d handed to her. “Thank you. They’re beautiful.” And they were—dusty lilac satin and lace from Victoria’s Secret.
“Yoo-hoo, girls!” Enrico’s idiot sing-song voice called out. “Are you coming in or not?”
I winked at Jaimie, wrapped a towel around her waist, then flung the door open and stepped in.
“Right here,” I said.
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