Chapter 2: Summer Job

WE SPENT a couple of days in Tenbrook, visiting family and receiving congratulations on all our various accomplishments. I kind of hedged on my plans since I still wasn’t sure how this was going to work out. Of course, that wasn’t adequate for my parents.

“What’s happening, Nate? You aren’t talking about your job with the State Department. Isn’t it a go?” Dad asked point-blank.

“It’s complicated, Dad. I got a letter from the draft board.”

“If those bastards are trying...”

“It’s okay, Dad. Sort of. They reclassified me I-O, like I’d requested. And then they told me that all I-O registrants had to serve. So, I’m supposed to start alternative service in September.”

“That’s when you were supposed to start with the State Department,” Dad growled. “This is vindictive. I’m sure there’s no such requirement.”

“Probably not, but you can see what they’re doing. If I contest the assignment, they’ll trash my reputation and claim the whole upset about the draft board was just me dodging the draft and not a matter of conscience at all. I really have to do the alternative service,” I said.

“And interrupt your career for two years to satisfy the egos of three old men,” Dad said.

“Not exactly, but we’re kind of keeping the rest of it quiet. It seems that the State Department has sort of bought my contract. When I report the first of September, I’ll be assigned to the job I was supposed to have in the first place. Only now, I have a two-year contract with the State Department, and it’s no longer employment at will. I have to stay with them for two years.”

“I hope the job is as good as it sounds, since you’re stuck with it,” he chuckled. He shook his head and I could tell he was still cussing out the draft board in his head. Dad was like that. He’d accept whatever the verdict was, but it would eat at him inside.

“How’s your health, Dad? What have the doctors said lately?”

“Oh, they don’t seem to be too concerned, so I try not to be. Say they got rid of the problem and I should get back to work. I’m working. Can’t say that I’m as good at this job as I was at installing heating and air conditioning, but I know what I’m doing. Nobody gets a shock when they touch one of our speakers.”

“That would be a rude awakening,” I said.

“It happened,” Dad chuckled. “Not on a job I did, but on one I had to repair. When they installed the speaker, they put a screw right into the electric line. I had to tear the whole thing down and rewire it. At least the problem wasn’t my fault.”

“Will you visit us in Stratford this summer?”

“Your mother has a bee in her bonnet about needing to check up on Naomi. She says we need to vacation in Germany and go see our daughter. Of course, I need a passport and that’s been a little tricky since I was born at home in Virginia and my parents never filed a birth certificate. I’ve had to find three people to attest that I was born there and am a citizen.”

“Any problem with that?”

“No. Interesting. I had to contact my brother and get him to attest that he was there when I was born.”

“I thought Uncle Lewis was dead. Why don’t we ever see him?”

“We had a falling out. He gave me some advice and it nearly cost me my marriage and my family. Then he didn’t like my solution to the problem. I finally decided I could have one family with your mother, or I could continue to be part of a family with my brother. I chose your mother.”

“That’s pretty difficult. Do I have ... like ... cousins?” I asked.

“Yes. But I’m not sure where. When Dotty divorced Lewis, she took the kids and hasn’t been heard from since. They might not even have the Hart name anymore,” Dad sighed. “Families are tricky things to negotiate. Better to just leave things as they are.”

Well, that was a little depressing. I had an uncle and some cousins that I didn’t know. I remembered what a surprise it had been to Chris when she found out she had a half-brother. And to find out Dad almost lost Mom due to that uncle’s interference was a real shock. Families and dark secrets. Who knew what stories might be hidden in my family.

It made me more determined than ever to cherish what I have and to protect it to the best of my ability.

We got home to Chicago Tuesday night with all the good wishes from our families for a great summer. We had a bit of a debate about whether we’d continue to keep the apartment in Chicago. It wasn’t really a requirement to live in the city since Ronda and I would be traveling for our jobs most of the time. I thought we should look for a house a little way out of town, but we didn’t really have time to do it before we needed to be back in Stratford. I needed to start photographing the next show on Monday. And we’d need to move all our furniture out of the apartment. We just didn’t have time or a place to move it to.

We ended up packing up everything we could fit in either the microbus or the Rambler and taking it with us to Canada. Technically, now we could sublet the apartment as furnished and probably get a group of students in before fall. Our clothes and personal items were all removed, as well as Toni’s toys. We even managed to cram the beanbag chair into the trunk.

Wednesday around noon, we took off and drove through to Windsor, where we chose to spend the night at the Holiday Inn. Somehow, moving out of the apartment felt more final than stripping the studio over Camera Warehouse before Anna and I went to Canada a few weeks ago. As usual, we had a nice room and the friendly manager at the hotel gave us a couple of two-for-one meal passes and a lollipop for Toni. We had a good meal and all cuddled together for the night before we headed on to Stratford the next day.

“Oh, I’m so glad to see you guys,” Melinda said when we came in through the back of the studio. “We’ve got two requests for photo sittings and I had to put them off because I wasn’t sure of your shooting schedule.”

Anna went straight to work as keeper of the appointments while the rest of us moved our possessions up into the apartment over the store. This apartment was significantly larger than the one in Chicago, so bringing our things in didn’t overcrowd us at all. We didn’t bother to bring pots and pans and dishes from Chicago. We had all that in Stratford. It would be a challenge integrating the art we had on the walls and cramming the closets even more full of our clothes.

I went downstairs to see how Anna was doing. She was on the phone with a potential client.

“We can get you in tomorrow,” she said. “I’ve already filled our Saturday slot and the photographer is not available next week because he’s doing production photographs for the Festival.— Yes, he’s the official photographer of the Festival.— Okay, I’ll put you in for noon tomorrow. Please bring any specific clothing you would like in your photos and an object that is significant to you. It always makes a nice accent.— No, ma’am. Nudity is not required. Many clients want a boudoir photo that is partially nude, but that is entirely up to you.— Thank you. We’ll see you at noon.”

“Are we okay?” I asked as she hung up the phone. She collapsed in my arms.

“I wasn’t expecting to be in negotiations so soon after we got back,” she said. “We have two clients set up. The one at noon tomorrow has just arrived in town for a long weekend of theatre and was desperate to get an Attic Allure photo. She said she heard about you in Minneapolis of all things! The Saturday morning appointment is with an actress who was in As You Like It and she liked her photo so well she wanted a full sitting. She seemed to think it was important to get to you before your schedule fills up for the summer.”

“Wow! I’d better get the studio in shape and ready to have customers,” I said. “Fortunately, we didn’t leave it in bad condition when we went back to Chicago.”

I headed into the studio wondering what kind of experiences I was about to have with the rush to get things photographed. Next week I’d be photographing The Three Penny Opera at the Avon Theatre and Orpheus at the studio theatre, or what was now officially called the Tom Patterson Theatre. They were both operas and I wasn’t sure how the photography might differ from the staging of a play.

It really wasn’t too much of a task to get the studio dusted and vacuumed. Everything was set for my first client on Friday. Ronda would assist me in the studio.

“Hi! Hi! I’m Beverly Young,” the bright young woman said upon entering the studio.

“Hi, Beverly. I’m Nate Hart. Welcome to Attic Allure. Come on in and take a look at our gallery while we talk a little about what you’d like today.”

“Oh, these are all so cool!” Beverly said. “Rachel told me I couldn’t expect to come in and get a full body paint job, but I could really get a fun and sexy shot.”

“Rachel?” I said. Something finally clicked about Minneapolis.

“Oh. Yeah.” Beverly took a deep breath and let it out explosively. Then she smashed her lips against mine and began to probe with her tongue. After only a second or two, she backed off. “Rachel Hannity is one of my best friends from high school and she wanted me to give you that from her.”

“Well, thank you very much. We had a lot of fun when Rachel was here for photos.”

“I could tell. But she said I didn’t have to go all the way. I mean naked, you know. I mean, maybe I will, but I’d just like something sexy without being really exposed, you know? I’ve got, like, a negligee with me that is sort of see-through for the bedroom photo, you know? I just want something that will make me finally look as pretty as Rachel, you know?”

“I know,” I affirmed.

Beverly was a bundle of nervous energy, practically bouncing on her toes as she told us what she wanted. She was about five-seven or five-eight and was a full-bodied woman. Nothing was really out of proportion and she wasn’t fat by any means, but she carried more weight than Anna, who was about the same height. She had straight red hair, and her makeup was nicely done.

“Beverly, I’d like to start with a couple of nice portrait shots of you. It will give us a chance to work together and see about things like lighting and backdrops,” I said.

“You can call me Bev. Okay. Like, whatever you think is best. I signed that release thing.”

We pulled a neutral backdrop and I started moving lights, shifting her position, taking a picture, and starting over. I found that it worked best if the model was just used to having me touch her as I positioned her, and trust that I will put her in the best light. Her red hair was a softer auburn in the right light and I liked what I was seeing with the contrast against her pale skin. I was envisioning different images as we worked and knew she wanted a boudoir photo, so that was what I would move us gradually toward.

I was shooting black and white in the Hasselblad and Ektachrome slides in the Nikon. I had the 4x5 ready to move in if I saw a perfect shot. It would come. Bev was leaning into me when I positioned her, and responded well when I unbuttoned her blouse a little. It wasn’t enough to make her uncomfortable, but did reveal some nice deep cleavage. I thought maybe those breasts actually needed a more supportive bra than she was wearing.

“Okay, Bev, let’s see what you’ve brought for outfits and I’ll see if we can enhance it a little.” We went into the dressing room and she showed me a couple of cute little sets. I was surprised though, that nearly everything she brought was underwear—and most of it was see-through. I pulled out a black body stocking that was a cutwork torso with a mesh panel over the breasts. “What do you think of this one?” I asked.

“Oh, that’s one of my favorites,” Bev answered.

“Okay, let’s get you into it. You know, don’t you, that we’ll be able to see through this mesh and see your nipples?”

“Shh. Just don’t mention that. They’ll be covered, right? If you can see through my clothes, that’s too bad. I’m wearing clothes,” she said. Hmm.

“Okay. Let’s get you changed and then I want to work on your hair a little.”

“You can’t stay in here while I change clothes! I mean ... um ... well ... like, isn’t that your girlfriend out there?”

“Yes, I always work with an assistant. She’s called one of my other girlfriends in from the shop to help change the backdrop.”

“But she doesn’t care if you, like, um ... see me naked?”

“No. You talked to Rachel, right? Did she tell you about how we painted her in front of an audience?”

“Well, yeah. I just thought ... How ... how ... how do you help?”

“I just help you out of what you’re wearing and into the next outfit. I make sure what is supposed to be covered is covered and that the clothes fit you right. It also gives me ideas of what I should show in the photo,” I said. I finished unbuttoning her blouse and stepped behind her to take it off her arms.

“Oh ... okay ... I guess. Um ... Thanks for hanging up my blouse. Here’s my skirt.”

I guess something in her head clicked and it was now okay to have me with her. I turned and unfastened her bra, taking it from her before she had a chance to react.

“I’m kind of floppy,” she sighed. “I thought if you only saw me when I had my clothes on, you might not notice.”

I reached around her and gently lifted her breasts.

“They’re beautiful,” I said. “You don’t need to worry about them looking floppy in the photos. We’ll make sure you are positioned in such a way as to have them look like great cleavage and nothing else. Your nipples are very pale, so even under the mesh body stocking, they’ll be almost invisible. I see you have a full bush. I like that. We just need to make sure the hair is tucked into the suit. What we don’t want is stray hairs hanging out around the edge. Now, let’s get your arms in and adjust the front panel so it’s offering a little support to you. This is nice, Bev. Let me look to see if we got all the hair tucked in. That’s good. Now have a seat here while I brush out your hair. I think we’ll want it fanned out around your shoulders. Are you feeling better now?”

“You’re so nice, Nate. You really watch and observe. You don’t just stare at my bits. I ... I don’t mind you touching me a little. If it helps the photo, you know.”

“Good. Let’s head back out and see what Ronda has for us in the way of a setting.”

Ronda and Anna had set up a blue backdrop with a green turf carpet. On this they had placed a number of fake potted plants and half a dozen pink flamingoes. I just had to nod while Bev looked at it curiously.

“Now, Bev, this is your new setting. You look quite delicious in your little lace body stocking. We’re going to catch you at home with your flamingoes.”

“That’s...” she paused as she considered it and began to smile. “ ... actually kind of cool. Um ... Maybe I should have a hat and a watering can. Or a pair of binoculars.”

Ronda went to work finding what we needed, as I tried Bev in a couple of positions and adjusted lights on her. It was, in fact, pretty cool. We were going to get a few nice pictures in this setting.

Bev didn’t object when I slipped the straps of her leotard off her shoulders and pulled it down to fully expose her breasts. We did some creative things with positioning flamingoes or plants strategically, so she wasn’t exposed any more than she’d been in the holes in the costume. I took her back to the dressing room and told Ronda we were ready for the bedroom scene.

“How are these feeling now that they’re out in the air?” I asked, gently stroking her breasts.

“Mmm. That feels nice. It’s all been okay so far.”

“Let’s take this off now and try on the little white nightie. I’m thinking we’ll want everything to be very soft and light for your boudoir photo. Something that will let the real you show through.”

I pulled the body stocking the rest of the way off and spent a moment fluffing the reddish brown hair around her mons.

“That tickles kind of nice.”

“I just try to make sure nothing is matted down. It’s a similar thing with your nipples. When we are taking a sexy photo, nipples should be hard and protruding.”

“I wish my areolae were smaller and rounder. They’re a little oblong and huge.”

“Oh, but look at this,” I said, leaning forward to suck one of her nipples between my lips and give it a few lashes with my tongue. I switched to the other nipple and repeated the process with her holding my head to her big breast. “Now look in the mirror,” I said. “Your areolae are so pale they almost completely blend in with your skin tone. Just a little flushed. But your nipples get brighter red when they’re erect. They’ll be the only thing we can see beneath your nightie.”

“Um ... uh ... You can ... um ... make sure they’re really hard, then.”

I took the invitation and feasted on her nipples for a few minutes, letting my hand stray south to continue to ruffle her fur.

“Now, let’s get you into the little nightie,” I said, pulling the scrap of white nightdress over her head. It was as thin as a piece of tissue. I led her to the bed and picked her up to lay her in the position I wanted.

“Are you going to make love to me now?” she whispered.

“With the camera, my sweet.”

I tried several positions for her that would show her bits, but not make them the focal point. I wasn’t quite satisfied, though I repeatedly stroked her breasts to make sure the nipples stayed the hard red points they’d become. For the first time I could remember, I thought what fun it would be to clamp a clip-on earring onto them like I’d done to Leslie for our class project. Only I didn’t really care about making a better photo. Her nipples just looked like they would be that fun to play with.

Abandoning that idea, I came up with another.

“I think I know what we need. I’ll be right back.”

I headed into the dressing room, thinking I would get water, but instead, my eyes fell upon a bottle of baby oil. Perfect. I went back to her and began pouring oil on the top of her breasts and then spreading it over the whole melon with my hand. She was panting by the time I had enough oil on her breasts to soak through the nightie and plaster it tight to her skin. I rolled her to her side so her breasts were compressed together with a lot of cleavage on display.

“This is perfect,” I said, wiping my hands on a towel so I could handle the camera.

“I never thought anyone would want to see my breasts all oily.”

“Oh, Beverly. Any man who sees your breasts oiled like this would want to see them oiled when you are together.”

“Really?”

“Think about it, dear.” I took pictures as I adjusted her position slightly, moved her hair and got her into different facial expressions. “I think we have what we want, Bev. This is a unique and beautiful boudoir photo.”

I picked her up from the bed and carried her to the dressing room, where I immediately removed her nightie and held her as I continued massaging her oily breasts.

“Why would men want to have me oily like this?” she asked.

“Well, if you put your hands on either side of them and push them together slightly, you’ll find a very slippery channel between them. Guys like slippery channels.”

“Oh. OH! I get it. It would be like ... I have to try it. Please. I know you’ve been as hard as my nipples. Let me feel your cock between my breasts.”