Chapter 14

My father-in-law took me to his home office and asked me to take a seat. He looked at me, trying to figure out what I wanted to talk about.

“Before we start, I always like to have a little glass of Scotch when I meet someone in here. Would you like a glass?”

“I’ve never had scotch, Mr. C. The few times I’ve had anything alcoholic it was a bad light beer.”

“That’s two words describing the same thing. Well then, this may take a bit to get used to. It is much stronger than beer. Some say it’s an acquired taste. I think it’s the nectar of the gods.”

“Well, I guess if I’m going to the Army, I should get used to something stronger than beer.”

He turned his chair around and from behind him produced two glasses and a dark green bottle. He pulled the stopper out of the bottle and poured a little less than an inch of liquid into the two glasses.

“Some people like a little water or ice with their scotch. I prefer mine neat. That means just the scotch.”

“I’ll try it that way then.”

He handed me the glass and told me to take a sniff of the aroma and then to take a small sip.

“Son, scotch is not to be gulped or taken as a shot. Taking in a bit at a time and inhaling the fumes is part of the process.”

He took a sip and I could see him inhale as he sipped. Then he swallowed and smiled. I put the glass to my lips and sniffed the strong liquor. I looked at Mr. C and, for just a second, I wondered if it was a test of his new son-in-law. I took a sip and found the fumes to be strong but not as bad as horseradish or wasabi. Then I swallowed.

For a few seconds I let the burning liquid make its way to my stomach. I felt the sensation on my tongue and palate.

“What do you think?”

“I can taste oak and something else. It’s not horrible and I could see myself sitting down for a glass and taking a considerable amount of time to drink it.”

“As it should be, son. As it should be. That other flavors you taste are peat and smoke.”

“I like it.”

“Good, before you leave for the Army, I’ll give you a little class in scotch. I prefer single malts, but you might like the blended sort. Now, what did you want to talk to me about?”

“So, Mr. C.” I took a breath and prepped myself. “Tell me about Jean’s mother being a stripper and how you dealt with it.”

Leo Carlesetti paused in mid sip and looked at me before slowly setting his glass on the desktop. Rubbing his temples and pursing his lips he slowly turned towards me and spoke.

“Yes, Sandra was a stripper.”

“And she was a stripper while you were married?”

“Oh yes, and very beautiful. I walked into the club where she danced and saw her. She was different from the other girls who were dancing. She was dancing to the music and not just humping to a beat. She was actually graceful and very sensual.

“I spoke to her after she got off the stage and got a private dance. I asked her out and she refused because dancers weren’t allowed to date customers because it looked like prostitution. But I was persistent. It took me six private dances at $25 a dance before she agreed to go out with me on her next day off. She gave me her number and told me to call her on the following Tuesday. I did. We went out and four months later we got married.”

“And she kept dancing?”

“And she kept dancing. She made it a condition of our relationship. It was even in our pre-nup.”

Pre-nup. I hadn’t thought of that and no one had mentioned it. I wondered if that was going to be a problem in the future. No! Why was I thinking of a divorce on my second week of marriage? I shook my head.

“Are you OK?” Leo asked.

“Yes. I’m just trying to get my thoughts in order.”

Leo took a breath, another sip of his scotch and sighed.

“It took me some time to get my thoughts in order about Sandra dancing as well. Jean wants to dance doesn’t she?”

“Yes.”

“And you don’t know how to deal with it.”

“Nope.”

“And you don’t understand how she could do that and still love you.”

“Right.”

“And you’re wondering if you should have married her.”

“Nope.”

I never hesitated with my answer. The speed of the reflexive reply surprised even me.

“No?” Mr. C asked.

“No,” I paused and then with a lot of conviction I added, “I hope I never wonder about that.”

“But you are wondering how she can show off her body to other men and still be faithful to you.”

“I’m concerned about her being naked in front of drunk frat boys and risk being groped or raped or worse. It’s more of a safety thing.”

Mr. C looked at me and it seemed that he knew right where I was coming from.

“Son, after we became an item, I would go to the club and sit in the back and watch her. When she got naked and the guys were going nuts, she would make eye contact with me and that look said, “Don’t worry. I’m only yours.”

“And with every guy in the room wanting to bang her, it actually made me feel good. Not sexually aroused, mind you, but proud. On a Saturday night, there would be a couple of hundred guys in there all lusting after my Sandra and she was mine and mine only. Guys waved twenty- and hundred-dollar bills at her and she acted ... I guess the best word would be ... professionally. I don’t mean professionally like a hooker. But professionally like a business person. She had a product. She sold it; she didn’t give it away. Men paid a lot of money to her. Some thanking her for her work and some admiring her body and, yes, some wanting a piece of her.”

“That’s what worries me, Mr. C. What if some guys wave a grand at her? Or like on that movie, offers a million dollars to sleep with her? Then, when I think of that, I feel like shit because I’m not trusting her feelings for me.”

“I understand that.”

“She dances really well. I’ve never been so turned on in my life as I was when she danced for me last night. And all I could think of was how much other men would be turned on. The other thing, is that I don’t know how she can show off her body to other men. I would think it was for me to admire.”

“I thought the same thing. I mean about thinking that it was my body to admire. Sandra grabbed me by the hair one night when we were in bed. She let me know that admiring a car didn’t mean it was mine or I was going to steal it. If men looked at her, it didn’t mean that she was going to look back. As a matter of fact, that’s what almost broke us up.”

“Jean didn’t tell me about that.”

“She didn’t know, Paul. I was in the club one night and there was this guy there. He was tall and by any measure he was a good looking man. I thought she was spending too much time giving him the eye and I walked up to her in the club and told her so. She waved at the bouncer and he was there in a flash and he took me outside. He kept me there for about ten minutes until Sandra came outside.

“Sandra told me that she was working the room. She paid attention to the guy because he was a big tipper and that was all. At the time I wasn’t making much money and we needed every penny we could raise. There were a few months when her earnings were the only thing that kept my business out of bankruptcy. Anyway, she drilled it into my head that it was her body and what she did with it was her responsibility. It didn’t mean that she was going to fuck another man. It didn’t mean that she was going to let them touch her inappropriately.”

“Jean told me that the bouncers would come down on customers who acted up.”

“Oh, they will. I’ve seen the guys ‘accidentally’ break a rowdy customer’s arm or leg or both.”

“Mr. C. what about the drugs? I know that most strip clubs are connected to bad guys. I’ve read about sex trafficking and how the women can so easily fall into addiction and prostitution.”

“Paul, that is where the woman’s responsibility kicks in. Most places have rules in place that disallow drugs and play for pay, but they are also controlled by criminals who encourage those activities. The place Jean will want to dance is owned by an old friend of mine. He’s a straight arrow who owns the place because it was always his dream to work with a lot of naked women.

“His girls are extremely careful at the club. The dancers take no drinks directly from the hands of a customer, so the chances of being drugged are minimal. The dances, even the VIP and private ones, are no touch. The dancer can touch the man but not the other way around.”

“So, a woman could give a guy a hand job outside his pants in the VIP room and it would be technically within the rules?” I asked.

“Yeah, I guess that’s right. Sandra told me that she would do what she wanted to do with her body. What she also told me, and made me understand without a doubt, was that she wanted to physically share her body only with me.”

“Jean kind of said the same thing. She told me that if she went to a nude beach and men saw her naked that it wouldn’t be cheating whether I was with her or not. I guess I finally figured out that I’m just insecure.”

“And you should be,” Mr. C said, surprising me with his response. “I mean, seriously how long have you known Jean in more than a distant friend’s way. You need to be careful and you need to talk to her and listen. You got married, really, before you were dating or even out of the friend zone. I know it felt right, like with me and Joyce, but your mom and I are a bit more experienced than you two.”

“I know. That’s why I wanted to talk to you. You said that you know the club where she wants to dance. How?”

“It’s where Sandra danced. It’s still owned by the same guy. That’s the big reason I’m not overly concerned. They know she’s my daughter.”

“That’s another thing. Are you going to go to the club and watch your daughter parade around naked?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. Paul, I’ve seen Jean naked a lot. Jean used to dance around the house naked all the time when she was younger. She would join Sandra when she practiced in our room. And sometimes they would dance naked through the house. Jean stopped after Sandra got sick,” he paused, remembering better days. “But either way it’s not my problem. Jean’s eighteen and she can legally dance in a strip club. She can run around naked but can’t drink or smoke. Crazy. However, you are the one who has to worry. She’s your wife. She’s not your girlfriend or BFF, she’s your wife. She’s going to be the mother to your children.”

That hit me like a brick. The idea of a pregnant Jean prancing around on a stage naked kind of appealed to me. Then I heard the lewd shouts of drunken frat boys and that fantasy flew out the window. But Mr. C had driven the point home. Jean was MY wife. She was my responsibility. And ... she not mine to own but was mine to trust.

“Mr. C thanks. It looks like I need to sit down and have another chat with my wife.”

“Yup. Wives are very different from girlfriends or friends with benefits. When they said “I do” they bought into a partnership. That partnership needs to be honored by both parties. You have the right to be upset that she didn’t drop this bomb on you before your vows but you also have the right to expect that she honor those vows under all conditions.”

“Thanks again.”

I finished my Scotch; we shook hands and I left to find my wife.

Joyce and Jean walked into the breakfast nook, while Paul and Leo went to the office. Joyce took out the coffee cups and Jean took a seat. While Joyce was pouring the coffee, Jean thought that it was the first time in a while that Lois wasn’t there to serve someone. She always thought Lois was a bit spooky. She was there when she was needed and not there when privacy was required. Spooky.

The two newlywed wives looked at each other for a few minutes before Joyce broke the silence.

“OK, Jean, it looks like the boys are talking and that means we need to as well. We can’t let them get ahead of us.”

“Mom, Paul and I had our first ... disagreement ... sort of today.”

“OK, what about?”

Jean’s face screwed up and she had to stop to figure how to tell her mother-in-law that she wanted to be a stripper. She wondered if Joyce’s moral compass was anything at all like her son’s. Well, she thought to herself, here goes.

“Mom, I told Paul that I want to get a job.”

“And not go to school?”

“No! I’ll still go to school. The job will be Monday through Thursday and in the evenings.”

“Will you have time to do homework?”

“Yes, I can do it at work during my breaks. And I won’t be working Friday through Sunday.”

“Really? What sort of job is it?”

Oh boy. Deep breath.

“I want to be a dancer.”

“A dancer?”

“Yes. You know ... an exotic dancer.”

“An exot ... a stripper!?” I could hear Paul’s voice in his mother’s.

“Yes.”

Joyce set her coffee cup down before she dropped it. Taking a moment to gather her thoughts, Joyce finally spoke.

“Jean, I assume that Paul didn’t go for that idea.”

“You could say that. Did you know that my mom was a dancer when she met my daddy?”

“No.”

“She was. He got over it and she quit dancing when she got too pregnant. But went back to it after she lost the baby weight. I used to watch her dance around the house naked for daddy. I thought she was beautiful. Before she got sick, Mom and I would dance around the house naked all the time.”

“Now I understand the brass pole in our bedroom. I thought your mom was into the pole dancing for fitness thing.”

“Nope. She was working on her moves with me ... and making Daddy crazy.”

The two women sat in silence for several minutes then Joyce had to ask.

“Jean, will you be totally nude?”

“Yes.”

“And doing lap dances?”

“No! I’ll only be on the stage. That was the deal I made with the owner.”

“Leo knows the owner?”

“Yeah, from when mom danced there. He’s a nice guy. He’s not involved in the drug or sex work. The girls who dance there are clean for the most part. If any of them do drugs or sell sex, they do it far away from the club.”

“So Paul won’t have to worry about you selling your body or getting hooked on drugs. What else is he worried about?”

“That I don’t love him.”

“Because you are showing your naked body to strange men.”

“That and I think this will hit him soon. There may be guys from college there who will hit on me at school when I don’t have the bouncers protecting me. He hasn’t said anything yet, but I know it will pop into his head eventually.”

“He does like to plan things out before he does them. That’s why he never gets speeding tickets. He knows when the police are going to be at certain spots in town. I’ll bet he hasn’t figured out that he can’t get into the club to watch you dance because he’s under twenty-one.”

“Damn! I didn’t think of that either. I was going to tell him to come and watch me a few times before he leaves for the Army.”

“Has he said anything about the amount he’s going to worry when he’s gone?”

“No but I’m sure that’s coming, now that you mention it. Mom, why is he so insecure about me?”

“Jean, he’s admired you from afar for a long time. You were always with some other guys, and the guys were always jocks and ... frankly ... assholes. He was just a kid who worked in a motor shop and took care of his mom. If there had been another girl in that alley, he might not even have noticed. I think you have been on his radar forever. Now you have taken a vow to forsake all others and you want to take your body and show it off to others. Other men, or women, who, in his mind, may be better than him. Taller, richer, smarter. The only thing he knows that he has on any other guys in the size of his dick.”