A couple of weeks after Jerry got his new boss, we were invited to dinner over at their house. Bob and Hannah Keller. “They’re from the East,” Jerry said, “Been here less than a month.” One look at their huge home doubled my nervousness. “If I spill something or break something just shoot me,” I told Jerry. “Don’t worry, honey,” Jerry told me, “Bob’s a really nice guy, easy to get along with.” He was. A graceful man in his mid-forties, one with easy, off-hand charm. His wife, Hannah, was much younger, I’d say barely out of college, which would make her three or four years younger than Jerry or me. Right away she grinned at me as if we’d been best friends for years.

“We’ve got a long way to go,” she said, sweeping her hand across a room which was completely beyond my imagination. Nothing in my education had prepared me to look at those paintings, to sit on those chairs.

“They’re nice,” I said to Jerry on the drive home. He squeezed my hand. That night we had the best fuck in a long time. I came so hard I couldn’t stop crying.

“We’re not having them here,” I said to Jerry, when I’d finally calmed down. “We can’t.”

He just continued soothing me, stroking me, and then I started coming again.

After Jerry left for work, I just lay in bed for hours.

About ten Hannah telephoned. It woke me from a strange dream. I was a splash of water, and then a waterfall, and then mist, the kind you see climbing rainbows. “How about some shopping?” Hannah said. “Can you pick me up? In about an hour?” There was no way I could get ready that fast. But her questions weren’t really questions.

“Oh, dear,” I said. “I haven’t even showered yet.”

“Don’t shower,” Hannah said. “Just throw something on and come over.”

I did the best I could. No way was I going to leave the house smelling so strongly of sex.

“Is Gracely’s ok?” Hannah asked as she stepped into my car. “I’ve heard it’s good.” Her iron gates swung open and I eased onto the street.

The Gracely is a little up-scale for me. I like looking there, but I do most of my buying at discount places. K-Mart, Walmart, Target. The Gracely’s huge west parking lot was already filling up. We began the long walk to the nearest entrance. “This is going to be so much fun!” Hannah said. Her voice was like a teenager’s, no, like a little girl’s on Christmas Eve staring at the glittery tree and the mounds of elegantly wrapped packages underneath. “I am greedy,” she said, squeezing my hand, “In a nice way, of course.” She showed me a mischievous smile.

We stopped to admire a beautiful young woman setting a pair of small children into their double stroller. “I always wished I were twins,” Hannah said. “I guess that’s another example of my greed.”

“No brothers or sisters?” I said.

“None that matter.”

We walked slowly, letting the young mother keep ahead of us. Sunlight gleamed upon her lustrous hair which coursed rich and thick all the way down her back, drawing our eyes to her narrow waist, her tight linen trousers, so snugly shaped by her tidy bottom. It was hard not to watch her bottom as she walked. She had lush hips for someone so elegantly slim. “Isn’t she pretty?” Hannah whispered. I nodded. The woman’s babies babbled brightly. “I bet she has some oriental blood in her,” Hannah said. Such a thing never occurred to me.

At the mall entrance I stepped ahead, held the door open. First one, then the other. The woman with the babies smiled at me. Hannah’s reflection flared as the inner door swung. “You have good manners,” Hannah said a moment later. “It might have been fun to watch her trying to open.” The remark made me feel a trifle strange. “You’re a good person, aren’t you?” Hannah offered. Her eyes twinkled.

For never having been to Gracely’s, Hannah knew her way around. First we stopped at the Blue Bottle shop. Everything inside was deep blue glass. Oceans of glass in all sorts of seductive shapes. “I like the ones you almost can’t see through,” Hannah said, and she rubbed her thumb along the rim of a tight-necked wine crystal. “I should get one of these,” she told me. “Last night I broke one when I cried...” Her voice trailed off, and a wistful look crossed her face. “Maybe I’ll get seven,” she said then, brightly. “A week’s supply!” But she settled for one. The saleslady wrapped the azure vessel in cottony bunting and slid it carefully into a small, nearly diaphanous shopping sack.

“Would you like to carry the package?” Hannah asked me. She handed it to me before I could say anything. “I do adore fragile things, don’t you?” she said. I nodded. The wineglass cost more than Jerry and I would spend on two weeks of groceries.

“Don’t you want to get anything for yourself?” Hannah said as we walked out of the shop.

“I’ll just watch,” I said.

We stood side by side on the up escalator. “I’m so glad you drove,” Hannah said. “I have bad luck with parking. I can never remember where I’ve parked. One time at a mall like this I walked around for hours. I was sure my car had been stolen. It got so bad I wasn’t sure I could even remember what kind of car it was.”

“I’ve had dreams like that,” I said, “But it’s never really happened.”

At Le Petite Sourire we sampled some perfumes. “This is mine,” Hannah said, showing me a small bottle of expensive scent. “Sometimes it’s the only thing I ever wear.” Deftly, she unscrewed the tiny glass stopper, touched her forefinger to the jar’s small opening. “I notice you don’t pierce your ears,” Hannah said. “I like that.” Her forefinger nibbled the bottom of my earlobe, and I’m sure I reddened a little. “Mm,” Hannah said, “Your heat goes good with this.” She pinched my earlobe lightly, and I felt about to melt.

“Bob asked me one night if I thought he should pierce his ears,” Hannah remarked as we walked the upper level. “How silly men are!” I couldn’t help but think of Hannah’s tongue scraping Bob’s ear, and then the tip tickling its way inside. Below us, a man was playing a piano. A small girl in a yellow jumper stood on tiptoes to look at a bird inside a tidy bamboo cage. I had to hurry to find Hannah. She was examining underwear.

“What do you think of these?” she said. “The nice ones are the naughtiest, don’t you think?” Before I could offer an opinion, Hannah took my hand, and we wandered through dresses. At the far end we found maternity. She fingered the bodice of a silk gown.

“You’d look good in this,” she said. “You’re so sweetly slim ... a baby bulge would be so special. I do hope you’re working on that.” She was looking at my middle, and I felt certain she could see quite through my clothes. I shivered. She looked up, her round face grinning, pleased as that cat that ate the canary.