Amanda's Maid
by
Anne Marie Bauer
© August 2005
Part I
The quiet applause in the crowded country club ballroom at the end of our little gig could be described as 'polite'. At least we weren't booed or razzed. Most of those attending were members which meant well-educated, mature and wealthy.
The guys in our band hadn't played badly; it was my part that was off at 'talent show'. The 'gimmick' for this popular annual gala was that in every skit or gig, one of the performers had to be cross dressed. Charlie, Mack, Wally and Zeke had signed us up and then combined to elect me, as the lead singer, to be the 'girl'.
It had taken only a few beers to be talked into it. Zeke's sister, Trish, my current squeeze, along with Cindy, Charlie's girlfriend had been brought in to help convince me.
On stage, I had just been too nervous; appearing in front of all those people wearing a red crop-top, black leather micro-mini, fishnets and high-heeled thigh boots to perform.
I helped pack up our equipment then made my way to the bar for a much needed beer.
"Seven fifty, Ms," the bartender said when he set down the pint. I'd never paid that much for a beer in my twenty-two years, but then I'd never drank one in a posh country club before either.
I reached for my wallet and only felt the smooth leather covering my rear instead of the bulge in the pocket. Remembering I wore a small purse on my studded belt instead, because of the long acrylic nails that had been applied, I fumbled to extract some money.
"Allow me," I heard a sultry voice say and saw her manicured hand offer a ten to the barkeep. "Keep the change, George."
"Thank you, Mrs. Buford."
"Come with me please, young lady?" She was stunning. I guessed Mrs. Buford to be thirty-five.
"Please sit?" I remembered to smooth my tiny skirt under as Trish had taught me then to keep my feet and knees together.
"Allow me introduce myself; I'm Amanda Buford. What's your name please?"
"Kevin Thomas, ma'am." She started to chuckle and it turned to a full blown laugh.
When she'd settled some, but still chuckling, she said, "I lost fifty dollars. I bet it was the bass player."
"Bet what was the bass player, ma'am?" Her diamonds and black velvet gown had said 'money' and I put on my best behavior.
"That the cross dresser in your group was him, or her." She extended her hand and tugged the tendrils of hair hanging beside my face.
"This fooled me. I knew it couldn't be a wig the way it's all up in curls on top like that."
"Trish and Cindy took me to a beauty salon for the makeover this morning." I looked at my long red nails then compared them next to Mrs. Buford's. Mine were longer by a quarter of an inch.
"That was a real 'trip' including a full body wax, ma'am.
"How can a girl ever get used to these?" I said it rhetorically, not as a real question.
"You will – it's just a matter of time, Karen."
I laughed and hadn't caught that she'd addressed me as that at first. "I'm cutting them off as soon as I get home."
"Do you have a steady job, Karen?"
"My name is Kevin.
"No. We pick up some bucks with the band, it's enough to just eat and for beer, but until we get a contract with a label, none of us will be eating lobster or drinking champagne," I stated. "I get some occasional work from Zeke's old man when he has a big cleaning job.
"I've a degree in theater and music, but a hell of a lot of good that does me. That and a buck will buy you a lottery ticket."
"When you sang, you'd a soprano voice; can you talk that way, Karen?"
"Sure," I shifted my voice up an octave; it was easier to do that than shifting it down lower for me.
"Why do you keep calling me, Karen, ma'am? My name is Kevin," I repeated.
"Because if your name was Karen, I think I'd be interested in considering offering you employment," she smiled.
"A job if I appeared to be a girl?" I shook my head. "My performance tonight sucked. I guess I'm not very good playing a female role."
"Please stop swearing, Karen? It is very unbecoming for a pretty girl like you."
"I not a pretty girl, ma'am."
"You didn't take a very good look in any mirrors today, Karen." Mrs. Buford looked about.
"Hi Marge, Karl," she said to a passing couple. He wore a tux, as did most of the male members there, and his wife, a floor length pastel green gown. "Please join us?" I wanted to hide.
My first thought was to stand and extend my hand to shake the gentleman's, strangely, I checked that and remained sitting as they came over to exchange pleasantries.
"Karen, this is Mr. and Mrs. Goodwin.
"Karl, Marge, Karen Thomas."
"I loved your performance tonight, Karen. If only I could dance like that." Mrs. Goodwin complimented me. I guessed them to be in their fifties.
"Splendid singing too. You've a beautiful voice, Karen," her husband added.
"You look gorgeous tonight, Amanda," he complimented.
"Yes. It is so good to see you smiling for a big change," his wife added.
"Thank you." Mrs. Buford smiled at me.
"Karen, if your group ever expects to win a drag concert like this, I must tell you, that girl playing guitar didn't fool anyone. I could tell she wasn't a boy as soon as she stepped on stage."
"Thank you, Mrs. Goodwin. I'll sure tell that to Zeke and bet he will just love hearing it," I joked.
"That false moustache..." her husband added and shook his head. Zeke sported a quite real handlebar and kept it waxed.
They chatted together with Mrs. Buford and mostly ignored me until everyone's glasses were empty. The Goodwin's said good-byes and Mrs. Buford ordered us another round.
"We were discussing employment, Karen. Have you plans for tonight or the remainder of this weekend?"
"No, there is nothing, ma'am." Mrs. Buford was quite friendly, but there was an aurora she projected that told me to be polite, I sensed it especially after she'd told me to stop swearing in her presence.
"Ladies and gentlemen may I have your attention please?" the loud speakers amplified the MC's voice. "It is time to announce tonight's winners. Since this is a charity event there are no trophies or monetary awards ... however ... one of our members has most generously decided to award one monetary prize and double that with an additional contribution to our fund raiser.
"We'll do that one last...
"For the best comedy..." Blah, blah, blah.
Our band, as I expected didn't even place.
"Now for our last prize, a gift certificate for a one thousand five hundred dollar wardrobe ... the best cross dresser ... the girl with zero votes from the eight hundred twenty-three members attending tonight...
"You fooled everyone! Kevin Thomas ... please step forward?
My face flushed then I felt faint. This could not be happening!
"Kevin?
"Kevin, if you are still here, please come forward to accept your prize?" I sat frozen in my seat; I'd never felt so exposed!
"Are you here, Kevin?" I couldn't move!
"Kevin?"
"She's here!" Mrs. Buford stated loudly. She was urging me to stand up and a spotlight illuminated us. I was numb!
Holding my shaky hand, Mrs. Buford pulled me to the stage amid the crescendo of loud applause.
*****
"Will you please stop crying? Karen, it's over and done!" I remembered her saying that as I was placed her car.
"I ... I've never been so ... sob ... humiliated..."
I was taken up a staircase to a bedroom. "We will talk in the morning. Anything you'll need is in the bathroom.
"Good night."
The sun had just started to lighten the September sky when I awoke in a small bedroom. I was in a canopied bed. Looking around, I saw a very femininely appointed room in shades of pinks and lilacs with white.
Still wearing my stage costume, I found the bathroom. Pulling up my tiny skirt and the tight elastic thong down, it just didn't seem right to stand facing the toilet. I sat.
Fortunately for me, I'd drunk only two beers the previous evening and wasn't hung over. A hot bath refreshed me.
There was nothing else to wear, but what I'd arrived in. Dressed, I stared at the makeup-laden vanity and it stared back. My delicate red nails glared at me when I looked.
"What the..." I didn't finish aloud. Using my theatrical education, I carefully tried to duplicate, not the stage makeup, but what a normal girl might wear for daytime, despite that it didn't go with my outfit. Getting my hair to look decent wasn't too hard. After it had been dyed blonde with dark 'highlights' the beautician had given me a perm then emptied two cans of spray to hold it in place.
I'd replaced the two dozen silvery bangles on my left arm and silver colored rings on my manicured fingers. The girl staring back at me in the mirror was one damn hot looking chick!
Downstairs, I found the kitchen in the large house and started coffee. After what I'd been through the previous day, I didn't give a rats who might see me dressed as I was in a leather micro and black leather thigh boots with five-inch heels. I walked outside and retrieved the newspaper from box at the end of the long drive.
After reading the headlines on the front page I looked up at the fairly large, Tudor styled house. Mrs. Buford obviously had money.
"Ah there you are! Good morning, Karen." Mrs. Buford turned from the coffee maker with a full cup. She carried it to the table and sat.
"I peeked in your room, but didn't find you. Thank you for coffee.
"Join me?"
"Thank you. Ma'am, I was too nervous to eat last night, might I make us breakfast?"
"That would be nice, what do you have in mind, Karen? My refrigerator is pretty empty."
"Yes, ma'am. I can make pancakes, if you'd like?"
"Pancakes?" she laughed. "I know I don't have a box of mix!"
"I didn't even look, ma'am."
Mrs. Buford stood, turned her chair to face the kitchen and sat, "Sure, go ahead, pleasantly surprise me?" It was said as a challenge. An amused smile played on her lips and in her eyes.
"How many will there be for breakfast, ma'am? There are only two eggs; I can only make about thirty, if they are small."
Her look changed, "You are quite serious, aren't you? You are actually thinking to make pancakes from scratch?" I just stared blankly.
"I've lived in this museum alone since my Frank was killed of 9/11. There is just you and me today, Karen.
"I've a service every Friday to clean the house and do the laundry. The pool girl comes Tuesdays and Fridays and the landscape crew every Wednesday, if it isn't raining."
Wondering why she'd told me that information, I turned and devoted my attention to locating the ingredients and utensils I needed to make us breakfast."
She stared blankly at me when I'd squeezed the only three fresh oranges in the basket on the counter into a small glass and served it to her as the griddle cooked the first batch. I then set the kitchen table after I flipped them over.
Mrs. Buford ate with a small smile on her face, but said nothing. Occasionally, I saw her pretty blue eyes glace in my direction.
"I'd like another cup of coffee, please?" I walked over and retrieved the pot. There was only enough for half a cup.
"Should I make another pot, ma'am."
"None for me. Make it if you'd like more while you clean up the kitchen." She was reading the paper and didn't look at me.
Not thinking then, I cleared the table, put the dishes in the sink and condiments back where they belonged.
"Sit," she said after I'd done the simple chores.
"Do you do drugs, Karen?" Her question was so unexpected I didn't have time to think of why she'd asked.
"Can't afford them, not that I even want to."
"Pot?"
"No, ma'am."
"Smoke cigarettes?"
"At five fifty a pack? No way!"
"Room, board, medical, small allowance and use of a car ... oh, forgot, uniforms too. Do you want the job, Karen?" Her eyes were still looking at the newspaper on the table.
"Excuse me, ma'am, what job?"
"Full-time, live-in maid. My home isn't too large, so you'll probably have time to do the pool too and tend the flowers." Mrs. Buford still wasn't looking at me.
"You want me to be your maid, but I'm a guy?"
"Fooled me and about a thousand others last night, Karen." She straightened and turned to face me.
"Listen to all you've told me, girl. While you aren't actually starving, you don't have a pot to piss in. I doubt you even own the clothes you're wearing, especially those two hundred dollar boots." Of course she was right, the boots were Cindy's and rest was from Trish, even the red panties.
I just stared blankly and she stared back for a few minutes without speaking.
"You want me to work as your maid?" my words just came out as I considered everything. "But..." I really didn't have a real, 'but'.
I'd no money, I lived with Wally, Charlie and Mack in a filthy, leaky old trailer. I didn't have a car. Whoever thought that being a rock musician was a fun way to earn a fortune was nuts – it wasn't!
"But..." I still hadn't thought of one.
"What would be the conditions of my employment if I accept, ma'am?"
"Good, you are at least thinking positively, Karen.
"We'll work out all of the details as you get settled. The only thing I'm going to insist upon is that you are Karen, one hundred percent of the time, 24/7 with no time outs for any reason whatsoever."
I had a 'but'; "But what about Trish?"
"Who's Trish ... your girlfriend?
"I've no problems with you having a social life. Certainly I'm not insisting you break with your friends.
"I won't have to; they'll ditch me as soon as they find out.
"This was all done for a stupid contest. Trish thought it was all one big joke what they put me through yesterday at the beauty parlor." I looked at my long red nails. "She couldn't keep from laughing about it with the guys.
"None of them will ever accept me when I tell them I'm going to be a maid. They'll think I'm a queer faggot ... a real weirdo."
"No one, but some of the performers perhaps, thought that of you last night."
"No one knew I was a guy all done up like this until the end either, ma'am."
Abruptly she stood. "Come, we've shopping to do." Still in a bit of a daze, I stood and followed her out to the garage.
"You may use the van to do your errands," Mrs. Buford waved to a green Honda Odyssey® then unlocked her Mercedes®.
"Ride in front with me."
"What are we shopping for, ma'am?"
"Casual clothes for you to begin with. You can't very well expect to go around like that all of the time, but I do think those boots look great on you and I'm sure you'd like them for a hot date." I wasn't sure if she was teasing me.
"You were right, they aren't mine, none of this is."
"I didn't think so, but you wear them easily."
"The girls had me practice all week."
We started in one of the cheaper chain stores in the mall by looking at denim skirts. At first, my head just wasn't in gear, but I quickly started searching when I saw a few guys gawking at me and remembered how I'd react seeing a girl dressed as I was.
"What do you think of this, ma'am?" I held up a faded skirt with what I'd learn was a 'dropped yoke' waist and tier of pleats below it.
"Cute. Here," she handed me a plain one with a front zipper top to bottom.
"You look like a size seven."
"Trish measured and said I'm a five ma'am." After an exchange of skirts, I was sent to try them on. It felt so strange to be doing what I was, but I didn't hesitate.
"Try these on," Mrs. Buford passed three blouses beyond the curtain.
"If you like anything, wear it, Karen," she instructed.
"Very nice," she complimented the pleated skirt and long sleeved pink blouse with small ruffles up the front to cover the buttons.
"These are OK too." We put back the printed blouse and Mrs. Buford paid for everything.
"Well just look at you!" Cindy was entering the store as we were just turning from the register. Trish and Zeke burst out laughing.
"My, I didn't know my ex-boyfriend was such a sissy!" Trish declared.
"Friggin' faggot chick with a dick! You are fuckin' disgusting." There was no way to avoid them.
"Here's your jewelry, skirt and top, Trish," I offered the bag.
"You're disgusting. I'll never wear anything you've contaminated. Keep them, you pervert!"
"You can keep my boots too, sissy! They should protect your knees while you are suckin' cock!
"Get the fuck out of my sight!" Cindy straight armed me against the display and I knocked over a mannequin as I fell."
Mall security was there as Mrs. Buford helped me up. "What's going on?" the man demanded.
"This woman assaulted my employee," Mrs. Buford explained. The sales girls confirmed what had occurred.
"Did you strike her, Ms?" he asked Cindy.
"Her? That's no her, it's got a dick! Yeah, I hit it!"
"Do you wish to press charges, Ms?" he asked me.
"Karen will not be pressing any charges," my employer declared.
"Karen!" Trish screeched. "The freakin' fag even has a girl's name now! I can't believe I ever let you touch me, Karen!" She started laughing and walked out with Zeke.
"I sorry that happened, Karen."
"There in nothing for you to apologize for, ma'am. You did nothing to cause the incident." We were in her car driving towards the exit.
"We'll go home."
I'd made a decision and touched her arm. "Ma'am, don't you think I need a uniform if I'm now your maid?" I asked softly. I no longer had a girlfriend and that had been my main argument. As soon as the others were told, I'd no longer have friends.
"You need a lot more than just uniforms, Karen. I just wish that scene had never happened."
She drove to another mall about twenty miles away. There, she bought me five pairs of shoes, stockings, socks and pantyhose. When sent to try on a white blouse and pleated plaid skirt, she also told me to put on a pair of white stockings and the black shoes with blocky three-inch heels and a strap across my foot.
"I look like a sexy schoolgirl in this, ma'am."
"You look very nice."
In Macy's® we bought a plain black leather shoulder purse and a wallet then went to a specialty lingerie shop. At least I was spared embarrassment when she bought an expensive pair of silicone breast forms without explanation.
"You still need bras, panties and nightwear, Karen." It took a bit of looking to find thongs like the one I was wearing. She had accompanied me into a changing booth so she could read the label.
"Your ex-friend has expensive taste in panties, Karen." But for colors, duplicates cost nineteen dollars each for a tiny bit of fabric and elastic.
"That should do you for starters." The trunk was filled with our shopping. "We'll get your uniforms now." She drove back towards her home.
"Just so you understand... With few exceptions, I've let you choose just about everything I've bought you today. When it comes to uniforms, the maid has no choice, none. In fact, I don't even want to hear you to talk in the shop."
"May I know why, ma'am?"
"Because it is a job like all other jobs that require uniforms. The Army does not give soldiers a choice and maids don't either."
"OK." She suddenly pulled the car over to the side of the road then handed me the keys.
"I almost forgot. Open the trunk and find the boobs I bought you and one of the white bras that I said you're to wear on duty, Karen." I did as I'd been told and got back in.
"I want you to change your bra, please? Just face the side and I'll hold your blouse so you're not exposed."
"Good afternoon," my employer greeted the shop woman. "I'm Amanda Buford. I require uniforms for my maid, please?"
"Certainly, Ms. Buford, this way."
I was first measured then told to wait. As it was a rather large store, it took some time for my employer and the woman to look over the selections. Occasionally, the woman carried over a uniform and told me to put it on. Once I'd modeled it, I just stood until given another.
"That style will do nicely for her chores," Mrs. Buford declared of the pale pink one I then wore. "Please show me suitable aprons?"
The style she picked was very full; almost covering the dress and buttoned up the back of its bodice. Her selection of a white mobcap was quickly made and she switched her attention to black uniforms. The cap was of stiff organza or crinoline and covered my pile of curls.
"That should do for today. Put everything in the car, Karen." I was ordered.
"One more stop then we'll go home." Mrs. Buford pulled into the lot of a large strip mall. "This is where I've done most of my food shopping. It's only three miles from home," I was told.
"Before we do that, I want to get you a watch and different earrings that you'll wear when on duty." As a rock musician, my ears were pierced to wear two in my left and one in my right ear.
The pair of silver colored post earrings was plain balls less than a quarter of an inch across and the odd one was of similar size and heart shaped. The watch she selected was not very decorative; just a stainless close mesh band half an inch wide with a circular case three quarters of an inch in diameter.
"That is the only jewelry you are to wear when in uniform, Karen," I was told as we walked to the supermarket.
"We'll only get the necessities now; you can do the major shopping tomorrow after we develop a shopping list and I tell you my preferences."
I attracted attention wearing the long-sleeved black uniform with its white bib-front apron and headpiece, but it was of an entirely different sort than the leers and gawks early that morning when fitted out like a rock star or hooker. Even rock stars didn't dress like I'd been except for a performance or nightclubbing. The attention I was getting seemed to be mostly curiosity. Even though I was only twenty-two, I'd never seen a formally uniformed maid out shopping.
It was five after four when we returned to the house. "The uniform you have on is fine for tonight except I want you to put on black stockings, Karen.
"Put the food away then carry everything up to your quarters and put it all away properly.
"Well eat in the kitchen together at six-thirty, so set the table for two. I'll be in my den at that time." Mrs. Buford instructed then started to leave the garage.
"Ma'am? I've not seen any more of your house than the kitchen and my room. Where is your den please?"
"From the kitchen go into the living room, turn left then at the end of the hall from the foyer, Karen." She smiled and left me to follow her instructions.
I did a lot of thinking as I put all of my clothing away; removing the tags as I did. The previous day I'd allowed Trish and Cindy to take me to a beauty salon to make me look like an attractive girl. I let them dress me in about the sexiest outfit imaginable then performed before a big crowd. I'd majored in theater and performed before audiences before, but never costumed like that.
Amanda Buford had sought me out then offered me the opportunity to star in a very different role. The script wasn't a very difficult one, but the stage costumes certainly were. As long as I was a member of the cast, I had to stay in character one hundred percent of the time; that was different. The stage and audience kept changing too.
I paused to look around the pretty set. Yes, I'd concluded my room was pretty, not the rat hole I'd sunk into. Looking in the big wall mirror, I saw a pretty actress standing center stage and costumed as a maid. She wasn't wearing a fetish French maid's uniform, but a proper one with a straight skirt that ended in the middle of her knees. The fitted bodice covered her torso from its high white collar to its buttoned white cuffs.
The stark white apron had eyelet lace all around, matching that at the top of her headpiece. The only things that looked out of place were the ten, long scarlet fingernails; a proper maid would never display them while on duty!
I glanced at the utilitarian watch on my left wrist – seven after five. I had time before I cooked supper and set the table. I wanted to play my role properly.
Smoothing my skirt under, I sat on the stool before the vanity and sorted through the bottles there. 'Nail Polish Remover, Non- acetone Formula, Safe for Artificial Nails'.
The nail technician had instructed me that the secret to applying nail polish was to allow it to thoroughly dry between coats; as if I was going to be doing it after my performance. Ha! Little did I know then!
It was ten of six when I clicked across the kitchen floor on five-inch black patent heels to start supper. First thing, I selected a bottle of white wine from the small rack in the kitchen. White wine goes with fish, doesn't it? Admittedly I didn't know Chablis from Sauvignon Blanc or any of the others. I put a bottle of something from Germany that I didn't attempt to pronounce into the freezer then took out fresh green beans, made a salad and prepared the swordfish.
While in the refrigerator, I found an open jug of California Rhine wine and splashed that on the fish after coating it with olive oil and bottled lemon juice.
I found her den easily and knocked on the open door. Mrs. Buford glanced at me briefly then returned her attention to the computer screen she'd been facing. I debated saying something, but thought it was better not to. She knew what I'd been told to do and her screen most likely told her the time. After a minute or two, she stood and waved me out then followed me to the kitchen.
Once my employer had sat; I put the food on her plate from her left side. I desperately wanted to do it right and hoped I'd correctly remembered 'serve from the left and remove from the right' and that it wasn't the other way around.
"Ma'am, you didn't tell me what beverage you'd like with your meal... I chilled a bottle of wine."
"Let me see, Karen." I presented the bottle on a towel. "That will do. You may pour."
Once I'd filled the glass I was told to get my food, fill a wine glass for myself then sit and eat.
"Please talk with me? How was your day?"
"Thank you for buying everything for me, ma'am."
"You are welcome. When I ask you to talk with me, I mean just that. Since I lost Frank, it has been damn lonely here. My name is Amanda. Do not shorten it to Mandy as you'll hear many of my friends will.
"I'm usually pretty good reading people. After that unfortunate scene this morning, I found I couldn't read you very well and, after I'd put you in uniform, I couldn't sense you at all."
"Mostly, I was trying to reconcile to being your maid ... Amanda."
"You are a very good cook. This is delicious.
"So, have you reconciled it?"
"I'm sure that there is a lot I'll need to learn and get used to, but think so. The biggest adjustment is going to be pretending I'm a girl." She laughed and I didn't know why she thought that was funny.
"In every way, you are far better looking than Trish or that bitch, Cindy. I can't imagine that you presented a very macho image, but as Karen, even that uniform, you are one hot looking chick."
"What happens with us next, Amanda?"
"With us? Nothing. Don't even fantasize about fondling me in bed or vice versa. You are my maid. We can be friendly, like we are starting to now, but our relationship is going to remain at that level, Karen.
"Before you question, there is a man in my life. Hank is currently in California and I expect him back on Wednesday. He normally comes over Friday evening's and stays until Sunday afternoons.
"You'll not be having very many weekends off, so don't ask. If you want time off, please ask me before you commit to anything. I'll not be unreasonable, but my plans will come before yours – that goes with your job."
"May we talk about that, please?" I asked. "What do you expect from me?"
"OK. Let me start with the basics. On duty, you are to be in an appropriate uniform and properly groomed.
"Oh! Before I forget again, I meant to comment on your nails. You really surprised me by changing them to that color, pale pink is far more appropriate, very good!" she smiled.
"I didn't think the bright red was right," I stated.
"Duties – you do all the shopping and cooking. Unless I invite you, you'll eat after I'm finished. Make up the rooms, yours before you come down in the morning. Clean the house, do the laundry and ironing. You'll run any errands I want done.
"In addition to Hank on weekends, I've guests over once or twice a month. You'll serve."
"What about time off duty, Amanda?" I asked. "It sounds like I'll be kept working all of the time?"
"No at all. I can't imagine that if you keep up with your housework and not get behind, that it will keep you busy all the time. Between lunch and dinner you should have a few free hours. If you'd like a day off, you just need to ask before you've made commitments.
"The only absolute restriction I've placed on you is that you are Karen one hundred percent of the time and there are no time outs.
"Before you do the shopping tomorrow, take the time to go to wherever you lived and gather up all your important papers and whatever else you'd like then close that part of your life, your future is here." I shuddered at the thought of my roommates seeing me like I was, but Amanda was right. I needed my birth certificate, social security card, bankbook and other things.
"Will I have to wear a uniform?"
"Does being my maid embarrass you?"
"I didn't mean it that way, but I'd rather the guys didn't see me wearing one."
"I'd prefer that you do, but for tomorrow, I'll not insist. You may wear anything in your wardrobe, Karen."
She stood. "Your cooking is very good. Thank you. Clean up here then you may enjoy the rest of the wine in your quarters.
"I'll expect coffee about eight. Good night."
*****
After a restless night debating what I had to do, I dressed in one of my three identical pink uniforms with white tights and white shoes, similar to the black strapped ones I'd on with the schoolgirl costume while shopping.
My hair was still in tact, but I knew that I'd need to set it that night if I was to keep that look. I toned down my makeup considerably from the day before, especially my eyes.
Amanda came in the kitchen before eight. I served her coffee and remained silent, while she read the front page of the Sunday paper.
"Get a pen and pad then sit; we'll develop a shopping list together, Karen." We spent forty minutes doing that.
"Clean up here then my rooms. I'll leave money for the shopping on the table," she said softly.
"I don't like your makeup that way; it's too subtle. Normally for day, fix it like it was yesterday morning, Karen." She stared at me a moment.
"I've given a lot of thought to what I told you to do this morning... Expecting you to retrieve you papers and whatever else you'd like to retrieve while in uniform is a bit too much. My jeans and sweatshirt will cover you and the sneakers I bought you should be OK."
"Thank you, Amanda." The departure from her previously stated 'rules' was a big concession.
"Come up to my bedroom and we'll get you changed." I followed her there.
While looking through the dresser drawers, my employer told me to remove my uniform.
"Slip too." I pulled it off. She handed me a pair of white jeans.
"Those fit me well, but I'm a size seven." She chuckled. "Other way around, Karen. That's a back zipper, not a fly." I pulled them up my legs then closed the zip behind. Because I'm a size smaller and have no real hips, the pants were loose, but not baggy.
The white sweatshirt was baggy, but mostly hid my figure. Across my breasts it was emblazoned, 'Cancun'.
"Where is this place you used to live?" I told her. "Be more specific – address?"
Mrs. Buford found a white baseball-type cap in the closet and, removing my mobcap, put it on my head.
"That should do. Take your uniform to your room and put on socks and the white sneakers I bought you then come to the kitchen with your purse.
"Oh, take the time to fill it with all the things like makeup that every girl carries in theirs."
She was on the phone when I returned. "I'll let you know shortly. Thank you." I heard before she set the phone down.
Together, we reviewed the shopping list and Mrs. Buford told me more of her likes and dislikes, which I noted on the back of one of the pages
"That should do for the shopping then." She placed three hundred dollars on top of the list and slid them towards me.
"If you see anything you'd like for yourself while out, go ahead and buy it, Karen.
"Will you be alright retrieving your things or would you feel better with a bodyguard, Karen?"
I laughed nervously; mostly defensively. I felt very vulnerable. I thought she was kidding me. "I'd feel better with bodyguards," I joked.
Without meeting my eyes, Amanda picked up the cordless phone and pressed one button. "Amanda. That is a go Manuel," she hung up.
"What did you just do, ma'am?"
"Arranged for your bodyguards. They will be in an old, beat up white van that says, 'Baja Landscaping'. Introduce yourself to the men and wait for them to accompany you." I was handed a twenty dollar bill.
"They probably won't speak much English, but can get by. Tip them when it is finished."
Still questioning just what was going on, I drove to the town where I'd lived and to the lot where the trailer was. As predicted, the van was in front and three men were standing beside it smoking. All had black hair and dark skin. I'd not want to encounter them alone in a dark alley.
"Buonas diaz," I smiled using my Sesame Street® Spanish, which is very limited.
"Hi, muchacha. I'm Emilio, that is Miguel and Juan." Though accented, his English was fine.
"Are you ready? I will come in with you." Emilio was short, but very stocky and solid. The muscles in his arms rippled as they moved.
"Thank you."
Instead of using my key, I knocked. Mack, wearing only grungy boxers opened the door. His BO and the stench of stale beer drifted out.
"Yeah?" He chuckled when he recognized me.
"Hey guys, look at this; the little fairy cock sucker's here.
"Whatcha want?" My bodyguard gently pushed me aside and knocked my former roommate out of the way then waved for his companions.
"You, shut the fuck up, gringo!" He waved his finger in Mack's face.
"Yeah, man." The other guys took the hint when they came into the room.
It took me several minutes to find my birth certificate. My other things were in my wallet on the dresser. At least they'd not taken anything important.
"There is nothing else, Emilio." He picked up the few CD albums and handed them to me with a smile. "Thank you." I placed them in my purse.
"Hey, sissy boy, look me up when ya want a real man to ream yer ass instead of these greasy Spics." Miguel drove his fist into Charlie's gut with a sickening sound and he crumpled to the floor.
"Mucho gracias," I said beside the green van. I handed Emilio the twenty and motioned to the others. "Thank you." It disappeared in his pocket.
"We follow a way and make sure no one bothers you, Karen," he smiled.
I don't know when I lost my tail as I drove to the supermarket.
Even though I'd permission, I didn't look for anything to buy for myself and just filled the cart with everything else and a few other items I thought appropriate for the way I cooked.
"How did everything go, Karen?" Mrs. Buford inquired when she entered the kitchen as I was putting the groceries away.
"Thank you for arranging for the bodyguards, ma'am. I don't think it would have gone well at all without them."
"You are welcome.
"Did you buy anything for yourself while out?"
"No, ma'am, just some things, spices mostly, that I use cooking."
I took a breath, "Ma'am, may I request a favor?" She nodded for me to proceed.
"I was very comfortable; mentally I mean, doing the shopping dressed like this. Yesterday, wearing my uniform, it bothered me the way everyone stared. Would it be alright if I could do the shopping dressed like this instead?" She frowned and didn't answer immediately. I worried I'd asked for too much. I was very lucky that she'd given me the opportunity to work for her.
"I understand that a lot has happened in less than two days and I've asked a lot from you, Karen. It's not going to all come easily, both being a girl and being my maid. There will be a big adjustment required until you are comfortable being both.
"Listen carefully to me, please? I would like it if my maid did the shopping and other errands in a proper uniform, but I'm willing to compromise. Yesterday I bought you several outfits that are appropriate for girls your age to wear in a variety different situations. Until you feel at ease being out in uniform, I will permit you to wear any of those clothes to run the errands."
"That is very generous. Thank you very much, ma'am." She smiled at me.
"You're welcome.
"Finish up here then go up to your quarters and put your uniform on again then put my things back in my bedroom. Just leave them folded on my bed.
"I am going out to visit friends and don't expect to return before tonight. I'm sure you can find plenty to do to keep busy.
"I'll see you in the morning." Again my employer smiled then turned and walked towards the garage.
By mid-afternoon, I'd cleaned her suite and started the laundry then went down and started dusting and vacuuming. When the phone rang, it startled me.
"Hello ... Buford residence." It took me a moment to think of something appropriate to say. The caller ID display said 'Unknown caller' with no other information.
"Who is this?" a male demanded.
"This is, Karen,"
"Is this 555 – 0837?"
"Yes, sir?"
"What the hell are you doing answering the phone?"
"I'm the maid."
"Mandy doesn't have a maid!"
"I was just hired."
"Where's Mandy?" I debated telling the pest that it was none of his business. He wasn't very polite.
"Mrs. Buford is out. I do not expect her to return until late tonight."
"Tell her I'll be at the airport at three twenty tomorrow!" He slammed his phone down before I could ask who the H he was.
I wrote a note then placed it on her bed on top of her clothing. 'At three ten a man called and didn't identify himself. He told me to tell you he'll be at the airport at three twenty tomorrow, Maid Karen' I was amused that I'd signed it that way.
As an after thought, I carefully turned down the corner of the bed covers to expose her pillow and placed my note on it.
*****
I was shaken awake at ten thirty. The bedside light was on. "I apologize for waking you, Karen." Mrs. Buford was wearing her robe. She sat on the edge of the bed.
"Tell me about this phone call, please?"
"My note explains it, ma'am. A man called; there was no caller ID displayed. He told me to tell you he'd be at the airport and hung up without identifying himself."
"How would you describe him on the phone?"
"Rude." She laughed.
"How? In what way?"
"He asked, no demanded is better, to know why the hell I was answering your phone. He practically shouted that you don't have a maid. Things like that.
"He shouted louder until he hung up.
"Oh, and he called you, Mandy', ma'am."
"I wonder what got into him?" Mrs. Buford stood patted my arm and turned out the light.
"Go back to sleep, Karen."
*****
"Thank you, Karen," Mrs. Buford said as I placed her lunch before her.
"Sit for a minute."
"The call yesterday was from Hank, my boyfriend. He was in a foul mood because of something going wrong with his business deal and he'll apologize formally to you when you meet.
"I'd like you to accompany me and drive back from the airport. You may go change into something casual. We'll leave in a half hour, Karen."
"Yes, ma'am. I'll go change."
Because she seemed to like it when I'd tried it on, I dressed in what I'd dubbed my 'schoolgirl' outfit. When I looked in the mirror, I thought I looked like a sixteen year old.
"You drive, Karen, so you can get used to the car. Hank and I will ride in back when we return." She handed me the car keys after unlocking the doors then got in the passenger side.
"I'll need directions, ma'am."
During the drive, she told me a little about her friend. He was forty-five, was retired from the army and dealt with electronic security and surveillance.
"I'll not go into any details. Not that it will ever be a problem with you, Karen, but I want you to be aware that my entire house is monitored off-site.
"Thank you for your trust, ma'am. I have a question though."
"Go ahead."
"Does that mean that someone is watching me when I use the bathroom and I change my clothes?"
She smiled at me. "I'll tell you this; the answer is no. You are not being watched in your quarters. Likewise, the guest bathrooms are not being watched. One more thing then we'll drop this discussion.
"Get off at the next exit.
"My rooms are being monitored and I can disable that when I'm there."
I laughed. "I'll remember not to borrow any of your jewelry, ma'am."
"Karen, if you ever have a special occasion that warrants it, you may borrow my jewelry and my furs.
"Thank you, ma'am. I don't see having much of a social life that will require them."
"And why do you think that? You're a pretty girl and should have no trouble at all finding a nice man."
"Mrs. Buford, have you forgotten what I am under my makeup? I've absolutely no desire to find a nice man."
She laughed, "No, Karen, I'd not forgotten. I wish that secret to remain exactly that and never to be discussed.
"OK, finding a nice girl then."
"Where do you suggest I find a nice girl while I'm a maid?"
"I'll think of something."
As we approached the terminal, Mrs. Buford's cell phone rang. "Hello...
"That is great, Hank..."
"Be out front and I'll see you in a couple of minutes.
"Bye."
"His plane was early, Karen.
"When I tell you to stop, shut off the engine, get out and tend my door then open the rear door for us. Take Hank's luggage and place it the trunk before you drive us home."
"You'll need to get me a proper chauffeuse uniform, ma'am," I joked.
"Remember that it was your idea when I tell you to put it on," she giggled and patted my thigh.
"That's Hank in the beige sports coat." I pulled over and stopped her car.
A little nervous when I got out, I did what I'd been told. Hank was about six foot tall with a strong, athletic build. He wore his graying dark hair in a flat-top and had penetrating blue eyes. As soon as he saw my employer, his arms embraced her in a crushing hug to kiss her. As they were still kissing passionately after I'd opened the door, I placed his three bags and attaché in the trunk then went back to the door. I don't think he even looked at me as they got in the car.
During the return trip, they held hands, kissed occasionally and talked softly.
"Place Mr. Carlson's luggage in my bedroom, please?" Mrs. Buford instructed as they got out of the car.
He turned to smile at me. "You must be Karen. I'm Hank Carlson."
"Please to meet you, sir." Without even thinking about it, I dipped a little curtsey.
"I'm sorry for how I behaved on the phone to you yesterday. I'll not make excuses, but I'll show you I'm really a nice guy." He was checking out my legs with a grin and handed me his laptop case to carry, turned away then went inside with Mrs. Buford.
I had to make three trips to carry everything upstairs.
"Thank you, Karen." Hank was only wearing his trousers when I entered with the last of his luggage.
"Put that on the bed," I barely caught the keys he lobbed them at me. "Open it up and find my red swim trunks and jock." A bit startled, I did as he'd requested. He took them from me.
"These are all clean, I use that chifforobe when I'm here. Those two bags need dry cleaning and washing." He went into the bathroom. When he came out with a bath towel over his shoulder wearing the trunks, he dropped his pants and shorts onto the small pile of clothes he'd already discarded in the corner then left the room.
Mrs. Buford entered as I was placing the clean underwear in one drawer that already contained more when I'd opened it.
"Am I to do his laundry and take his things to the dry cleaner's, ma'am?'
"Did he ask you to, Karen?"
"It was more implied then stated. I'm not complaining; I'm just trying to understand what my duties are."
"Exactly, please try to quote what he said?" I repeated the words.
"I would like it if you do that for me, Karen, please?" she smiled at me. "You are going to work out just fine."
"Please finish unpacking that, the rest can wait until tomorrow.
"Can you barbeque?"
"Yes, ma'am. What would you like?"
"Surprise us. We'll eat out on the patio.
"Please change into that short-sleeved blouse and black shorts I bought you in the uniform place with black pantyhose and those plastic shoes. We'll call that your pool uniform, OK?"
"That's fine, ma'am." Mrs. Buford had begun to undress as we'd talked.
"Should I leave until you finish?"
"Oops! I apologize; I didn't give any thought to what I'm doing." My employer stared at me a moment.
"Unless I'm embarrassing you, no, I don't want you to leave. You may help me if you'd like." I thought about it then moved behind to unhook her bra.
The 'pool' uniform was like one a cocktail waitress might wear. The blouse is white with a pleated front, fitted bodice and worn with a black bowtie. The black high-rise shorts have black satin ribbons on the sides. Their snug waist buttoned up on both sides in front and extended to under my breasts, I wore them with suspenders. I tied on the tiny half-apron and added one of my headpieces.
Those plastic slides she'd selected were going to take practice to walk easily in. They had platforms soles and spike heels over six inches high. When I crossed the patio flagstones they clacked very loudly.
"Extra dry martini with a twist," he stated curtly.
"Stop right now! Hank you are being very rude. Extra dry martini with a twist!" she imitated.
"Karen is first a very nice girl; second, she is my employee. It doesn't matter if her title is Executive Vice President or maid.
"Those bags need dry cleaning and washing. Did you say please and request that she do those things for you? I excused your rudeness on the phone with her. I will not tolerate your continued rudeness! You do not give her orders like she is some private no-stripes at boot camp!
"When you desire something, you will request it politely. Hank, if I ever hear you address her as, 'girl', or, 'maid', I'll kick you in the balls!"
"Karen, please accept my apology. I would like it if you make me an extra dry martini with a twist of lemon peel, please?"
"Would you like that stirred and not shaken, Mister Bond?" I grinned. They laughed.
"Shaken, please?"
"Karen, there is a small bar in that counter. You should find all you need there. I'd like a gin and tonic, please?"
I make no claim to being a knowledgeable bartender, but I could fill their requests and served each with a little curtsey.
"I should attend to your meal, unless you've further need of me here," I said.
"What are we having for supper, dear; even transcontinental the airlines don't serve real food today?"
"Delight a la Karen, monsieur," she giggled.
"That will be all, thank you, Karen."
Steaks would have been my choice for their barbeque, but they were not an option. I'd bought an eye round roast to cook as pot roast one night. I cut it up into cubes then made a marinade of wine, vinegar and packet of 'mesquite' spices that was in the cabinet. Once it was 'cooking' in the refrigerator, I cut up red and green peppers then onions and mushrooms to make kabobs. A tossed salad was next. I started to heat the oven to make fresh rolls.
Back outside, I collected their glasses, refilled them and served.
"Sir, what type of salad dressing would you prefer, please?"
"Creamy garlic, the same as Mandy," I curtseyed to acknowledge,
"Ma'am, I saw the things in the bar that are to be used out here, but thought, since it is Sir's first night back, that linens, china and silver might be more appropriate?" Plastic tablecloth, paper plates, disposable tableware and paper napkins just didn't seem right though their plastic glasses near the pool did.
"Remember who does all of the laundry and ironing, Karen. Use your judgment."
Aware that they both watched me closely as I set the table then set up to cook their kabobs, I pretended I didn't notice. Mrs. Buford giggled when I brought out the ice bucket.
"Dinner is served Madame et Monsieur." I curtseyed and moved to tend a chair for my employer.
Seated, I went to the kitchen and returned with the bottle of champagne wrapped in a towel which I'd chilled. "Monsieur?" I exposed the label.
"Dom Cleric Premier, '94? Really, Mandy," he grinned.
"That should do." I did know how to open it properly with just a pop then placed the cork before him and poured a little into the flute.
"You may pour," he directed after a sip.
As I filled Mrs. Buford flute, her hand caressed the inside of my thigh. She smiled and nodded when I met her pretty eyes.
"This is absolutely delicious," Mr. Carlson declared before fully clearing the meat from his mouth.
"Very, very nice, Karen, thank you." she complimented.
"Hank, I'm going to run up and change. Karen will serve you if you need anything."
He watched her depart then the patio door closed and said, "Sit for a moment?" I watched as he dipped the corner of his napkin in ice bucket and used it to clean the rim of Mrs. Buford's glass then emptied the bottle into it. Mr. Carlson extended the half full glass.
"You've earned this. Let me again apologize. I hope my rudeness does not make it necessary to do so again, Karen."
"Thank you, sir." I accepted the champagne, took a polite sip then set it down. By then, it was flat and didn't taste very good even if it hadn't.
"I'll be staying until Sunday afternoon." I just nodded with a small smile. "I hope I can make my stay very enjoyable for both of us," he grinned. I wasn't sure how to interpret that and wondered if it was an invitation for intimacies.
"Thank you, sir." I stood. "Mrs. Buford is strict about me doing my chores in a timely fashion. I need to clear the table with your permission and get on with them, sir."
Mr. Carlson pushed back and waved at the table.
Between clearing, putting things away and starting washing the dishes, I ate my cold meal. What he'd said bothered me, but I'd no answer about what, exactly, he'd meant. I thought it best to try to avoid being alone with him.
*****
Mrs. Buford found me ironing in the laundry room late the next morning. I'd the radio on and she turned it off then closed the door and leaned back against it.
"Ma'am?" I stood the iron aside.
"What's this about me being very strict with you about doing your chores in a timely fashion, effectively ending conversation, Karen?"
I took a deep breath, "Mr. Carlson invited me to sit and poured the last of the champagne in a glass for me after you went in last night, ma'am."
"And?"
"He said something I don't fully understand. I didn't know how to respond and could only think to excuse myself from the scene so that I wouldn't have to, ma'am."
"What did he say?" she asked.
"He smiled and said, 'I hope I can make my stay very enjoyable for both of us,' ma'am. I don't know what he meant by that." She frowned.
"Your thought though is that he wants to have sex with you?" she asked softly.
"In other words, yes, ma'am." Her hand motioned for me to resume my chore.
"You are too damn good to ever lose," she said after five minutes of silence. Mrs. Buford turned the radio on and left, closing the door as she did.
At ten before four, I'd finished the ironing and carried everything upstairs. After putting the tablecloth and napkins in the dinning room sideboard, I carried his shirts and pants up to Mrs. Buford's bedroom.
I opened the chifforobe and started putting everything away. When she spoke I jumped; I'd thought I was alone in the room.
"I sent him home to have a long hard think on just what the hell he wants, Karen." I turned towards her voice. Mrs. Buford was in her robe, curled up in a ball on the armchair. Streaks of mascara on her cheeks evinced that she'd been crying.
"I confronted him and questioned what he meant by saying what he had to you. We had a fight. The stupid shit meant just what you thought he meant! God damned macho crap, he wanted to screw you. 'Fuck your maid,' was among the things he said. 'You make him so fucking hot'! God damn it!
"I did nothing to lure him on, ma'am." I felt I should say something. She chuckled, but didn't sound amused.
"I was there. I know you didn't, silly."
She stood and came to hug me.
"I'll finish that. Go get yourself pretty and we'll go out to dinner at a nice restaurant, Karen."
"Excuse me, ma'am, I've nothing to wear to a nice restaurant."
She started to laugh; she has a delightful laugh. "Will you listen to you? Been a girl for four days and already you act like all the rest of us with a closet full of clothes and nothing to wear. Too much, Karen."
She stood, "Come over here." I followed her to the huge walk-in closet. She searched the hangers towards the back then took out one covered with plastic. It was a cream colored suit in a rough textured soft fabric.
"My Frank had this made for me, but it was always too tight. If it fits, you can have it. If not, you're on your own picking out something else to wear.
"Run along now and meet me in the kitchen in an hour."
As if made for me, the suit fit perfectly; its mini thigh-length skirt was snug. When I read on the label that it was of one hundred percent Thai silk and from a tailor's in Bangkok, I guessed Thai girls had hips more like mine.
When I looked in the mirror after finishing, my black purse didn't look right; it seemed to clash. I thought it should match the color of my shoes. The chunky heels on those I thought would look better as slender spikes. There was nothing I could do about changing either. Black shoes just wouldn't 'go' either.
*****
"May I please see your ID, Ms?" Amanda had ordered a bottle of wine to share with our dinner and the young waitress was doing her job.
"Karen, the young lady asked your see your ID!" Mrs. Buford was stern.
Very reluctantly, I took out my wallet and handed her my driver's license. I couldn't meet her eyes and was trembling. My face felt hot and I wanted to slip off my chair and disappear under the table.
"Kewl." She offered my license back with an ear-to-ear smile. "You look a lot better with makeup and your pretty hair like that. I heard, Karen, right?"
"Yes, that's correct, Sandi. This is my maid, Karen Thomas." I wanted to rip her tongue out for telling the waitress I was her maid!
"I'll be back in a moment with your wine and to take your order, ladies."
"Straighten up, that wasn't the end of the world, Karen. The girl works for tips; you'll never see her again," Amanda had let me stew a few minutes.
"I truly hope that isn't the case, ma'am. But why did you have to tell her I'm a maid?"
"Because that is exactly what you are. I don't tolerate lies and yours are not going to be any exception.
"There is nothing to be ashamed of about your job. The young lady is a waitress or, if we're politically correct, a 'food server' and everyone knows it. She has to wear a uniform in public that her employer picked and was given no choice; it goes with the territory. Does she act ashamed of it or her job? Tell me how her job is significantly different from yours." Mrs. Buford had said that all very calmly and it sank in quickly and began to register. I realized that I was really being silly. Still, she knew my deep secret.
When our waitress returned to serve the wine, she startled both of us by placing a piece of paper next to me. I glanced to read her name below a phone number, Sandi Martin, and placed it in my wallet, while she and Mrs. Buford went though the motions with the wine.
Amanda and I talked, mostly about her during our nice meal. That she was a widow, I already knew. Her late husband had been a very wealthy broker and investor – Amanda had no need to ever work again. She had an investment manager to handle the day-to-day.
She had loved to show off her home and to entertain guests and explained that now that she had me as her maid, she intended to resume doing that.
Amanda changed the subject, "Do you think you could bring yourself to slap a man hard in the face, no matter who he is, if he made a pass at you in a public setting, Karen, if you were fully protected from reprisal?"
"I'm not very confidant with what I am yet, ma'am."
I switched the conversation too. "Before we left the house, you made it a joke when I said I'd nothing to wear tonight. Oh, thank you very much for this suit. I really like it, Amanda." She just looked back at me.
"Anyway, when I put my purse on my shoulder then looked in my mirror, my first thought was that it clashed; black just doesn't go well with what I've on. I then thought that my purse should match my shoes, but those aren't right either; slender heels would look better with my suit."
She silently chuckled with a smile. "You really are starting to think like a girl, Karen." I wasn't sure if she meant that as a compliment, but didn't pursue it.
Later I asked, "May I use the telephone in the house for personal calls, Amanda?"
She grinned at me. "It isn't all the glum future you had thought is it? Did Sandi give you her phone number on that paper?"
"Yes, she did, ma'am."
"Amanda, remember?" She took a pen and small notepad and wrote my name and her phone number on it then 'Because she's a maid, please understand she may only receive calls between ten in the morning and three in the afternoon,' and wrote her name below that and passed it to me to read what she had written.
"Before you question, I'm paying for your services. I do not think it unreasonable for you to be interrupted at other than those hours, Karen." She took back the small paper.
"I'll arrange for a private line for you tomorrow.
Mrs. Buford passed the information when she signed the bill to her credit card.
Sandi read it and smiled, "Thank you Mrs. Buford. I'll obey your rules.
"You know my parents, Bill and Terry Martin. We've met before. It's been about five years; you were at a Labor Day party at our house just before I went away to college, ma'am."
"Oh yes. I didn't recognize you Sandi. You've changed."
"For the better I hope," Sandi laughed.
"Thank you. Good night, Mrs. Buford." She faced me.
"I really hope we can become friends. Good night, Karen."
"Me too. Good night, Sandi."
I was lost in thought as Amanda drove home quietly. Mrs. Buford broke the silence.
"You asked me a question the other day that I couldn't answer, Karen."
"What was that, Amanda?"
"Something like, 'Where do you suggest I find a nice girl while I'm a maid?' I recall." I saw her turn and smile at me as we passed under a street light.
I laughed, "And I don't even have to worry about her discovering my secret or what will happen if she ever finds out."
End of Chapter I
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