Brooke (Orphans 3)

"Should I get out now?" I asked. I didn't want to interrupt her, but the water was getting cold.

"What?"

"Should I get out of the bathtub?"

"Oh, first we want to rinse out your

conditioner," she said, and went to the small hose again. "From now on, you'll be able to do this yourself, and if you're too tired, you can have Joline do it."

"This is the first time anyone's washed my hair that I can remember," I said.

"I imagine they did when I was a baby."

"You're always a baby when it comes to being pampered, especially by men. Never, never let them believe they've made you happy," she advised.

"Why not?"

"They'll think they've done enough. They can never do enough. That's our motto. Okay, step out," she said, and I rose.

"Just as I thought, You have a perky little figure, not an ounce of baby fat," she remarked. "Actually," she said, letting me stand there naked and not handing me my towel, "you're a bit more muscular than I expected. We don't want to be too hard," she warned as she pinched the muscle in my thigh. "Men like their women to feel like women," she said.

She handed me the towel finally, and I wrapped it around myself quickly, drying my body as she studied me. She looked at my pile of clothes.

"Weren't you wearing a bra?" she asked. "Your breasts are forming. It's never too early for a woman to worry about sagging," she declared. "First thing we do tomorrow is buy you more under-things. Sit at the table, and I'll dry and brush out your hair."

"Thank you," I said, and sat with the towel still wrapped around me.

She started the blow dryer and ran the brush through my hair. "It's nice having someone else to nurture and develop. It's as if I'm starting over. Of course, I couldn't do this with just anyone. I had to have a young girl who had promise. I'm just surprised at the size of your shoulders," she muttered. "I wonder why I never noticed they were so broad."

"My shoulders?"

"How did you get them to be so . . . manly? You don't do those exercises with weights, do you?"

I shook my head. What was wrong with strong shoulders?

"I suppose it's just something that happened. I'm sure it will change as your hormones do. And we can help them along," she whispered in my ear.

"We can what?"

"Make our female hormones more efficient. I have some pills, some nutritional supplements my nutritionalist has provided. I'll tell you all about it. Oh, there's so much to do. Isn't this fun?" she said. "See how much nicer your hair feels? Go on, touch it," she said, and I did, It did feel softer. I nodded.

"You're going to be a contestant faster than you think," she said.

"A contestant?"

"For the beauty pageants." She laughed. "Maybe I'll enter you in Miss Teenage New York this year. Yes, I will," she decided instantly. "And you'll win, too. Think of what they will say." She stepped back. The headlines flashed across her eyes as she envisioned them and drew them in the air with the brush. "'Pamela Thompson's daughter declared Miss Teen-age New York.' I love it."

I stared at her reflection in the mirror. She was still fantasizing some scene on a beauty pageant stage. My eyes went to the toilet again. "What's that?" I asked.

"What?" She looked. "Oh, that's a bidet. Don't you know what that is?" I shook my head. "You poor thing. That's to keep us clean in our private place," she said. "You have to do it every day, too. Women don't realize how they can, .

I looked at it, my eyes wide.

"It feels good, too," she said She laughed. "Men want that to be the healthiest place on our bodies, but I bet you know all about that, don't you?" she asked guardedly.

"No," I said, "not really,"

"Not really?" She stared at me a moment. "You're a virgin?"