"Cornwall's, Merry Christmas."
"And a Merry Christmas to you, too, Andrew. It's Camellia, darling. How are you and yours?"
"Camellia, what a surprise. We're going very well, thank-you, and how are things at the Trevethlyn's?"
"Just lovely, thanks." There was a pause, "Andy, I was talking to Poppy last night and she told me that she and your dear Steven have never gotten past heavy petting. It seems that the farthest they've ever gone was a hand job or two. I thought you might want to know?"
"No! Oh dear, eighteen years old and they're both still virgins? Good Lord, who'd have thought?"
"I know. Surprising, isn't it? Whatever is wrong with the current generation, I sometimes wonder. Anyway, because she's still a virgin I'm going to start her on pompoir exercises after the New Year so that by June she will be fully trained."
"Are you? What an excellent idea. You know, Jane and I were wondering what to give the boy for graduation. A full course in tantric control might be just the ticket?"
"Really? Hmmm—Asphodel's doesn't usually accept clients as young as he is. The assumption is that young men will make their own arrangements but it does make a certain amount of sense. At least that way he won't have to
un
learn anything. And of course it would be all for Poppy's benefit—eventually. I wonder about the ethics of it, though. I mean, should I be training my daughter's fiancé?"
"For that matter, should I be sampling my future daughter-in-law? Presuming she and Steve continue to restrain themselves until they graduate Poppy will be a very expensive 'date' when June comes. I mean—a pompoir-trained virgin? Pricey!"
"You bet she will be and you can be sure I'm already thinking along those lines, my dear Andrew. Jane may have to put in some overtime to pay for your dalliance. Either that or you're going to have to win a very big case."
"That much? But you know, Jane might just do that since my birthday is June twentieth. Not that it would bother her to spend more time 'at work' whatever the reason. I'll talk to her on both subjects, sweetheart. Have Axel kiss you for me and I'll see you next Wednesday."
"Smooches, Andy. Pinch Janey for me. Bye, now."
*****
Poppy Trevethlyn kicked off her galoshes and hung her coat in the mud room. Then she stomped into the kitchen, sat down at the breakfast bar and rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Boys!"
Camellia raised her head from the roast she was basting. "Mmm?"
"Mom, where is Asphodel's?"
Her mother raised an eyebrow with a half smile. "Asphodel's? It's the sixth floor of the Hotel Gentian, right across the street from the capitol building."
Poppy froze. She looked up at the ceiling and sighed. "Why do I just know I'm going to wish I hadn't asked this? Mother,
what
is Asphodel's?"
Camellia put down the basting brush and reached up into the cupboard. Her smile broadened as she took down two mugs, filled them with coffee, slid one across to her daughter and sat on the stool next to her.
"Asphodel's is the oldest, most reputable and most expensive bordello in the state. Why do you ask?"
"I knew it, I just knew it," Poppy muttered under her breath. Aloud she continued, "A bunch of Steve's friends are talking about going to Asphodel's after the grad prom."
Camellia snorted. "In their dreams! I'll bet they don't even know where it is and even if they did they couldn't get there. One must have a key to open the elevator on the sixth floor and the stairwell door only opens from the inside. Besides, none of them can possibly afford it. A trip to Asphodel's costs a minimum of five hundred dollars and since I'm sure what they want is to get laid good and proper, it would be a thousand or more. Fat chance of that."
Poppy spewed coffee all over the counter. "Mom! How do you know that?"
Her mother sipped the hot coffee and winked conspiratorially. "Because we own it, or should I say, your grandmother owns it."
The girl was dumbfounded. After several tries she finally managed to squeak, "Grandma?"
"Mm-hm. And her mother before her and so on clear back to your thrice great-grandmother Asphodel, the one it's named after. You see, dear, over a hundred years ago your thrice great-grandfather Alonzo died of pneumonia leaving Asphodel a widow with two small children. He'd been a successful merchant but had encored considerable debt in an attempt to expand his business. Asphodel was able to pay off all the indebtedness but had to sell off most of his holdings to do so. By the time she was free and clear all she owned was their home. Admittedly it was a large one but she didn't have the money to pay for enough staff to run it.
She might have turned it into a boarding house. That would have been a proper thing for a widow of the time to do but instead she moved with the kiddies into a smaller house and turned hers into a house of assignation, that's a place where people having affairs can meet discretely. All she had to do was make sure the sheets were cleaned after each couple left. It was quite profitable, given that legislators often had (and still have) mistresses in the capitol when they are far from home."
"And later she turned it into a brothel? I'm shocked."
"No, later she bought a small hotel and turned
it
into a brothel. She moved back into the house. Unlike many of her contemporaries she didn't spend all the money she made on high living. Instead she bought property. When her daughter took over the business she bought railway stock and more income property.
Her
daughter bought oil and auto stock and even more property and so on. But the only business we ever actually run is Asphodel's and each of them, or should I say of us, has learned the business from the mattress up."
Poppy took a while to digest that. "Mother, I'm descended from six generations of . . .?"
"We like the word courtesan, darling. When a man is paying as much as we charge, it's way beyond whoredom. And yes you are. That's how I paid for college. That's how we all pay for college. Sure, Mama could have afforded to send me but earning your way through school flat on your back has become traditional."
"Does—does Daddy know?"
"Of course he does. We met there. I know you aren't aware of this but your father swings both ways and as a poor boy on the make, working Asphodel's was how
he
paid for college. He doesn't now, of course, he's too busy running the foundation. But once you children were old enough to spend the whole day in school I went back to work. I do the lunch shift because it is one of the busiest times of the day. There aren't many jobs a woman can clear a couple of thousand dollars between eleven and one, you know."
"Daddy. Swings. Both ways?"
"Yes. Of course now when he wants some cock he goes to his club where his like-minded friends all hang out. That's his way of getting a little variety just as working at Mama's place is mine. It obviously isn't the money, Poppy, not after six generations of intelligent investment. I do it for fun and getting paid is part of the fun."
*****
Poppy sat on her bed, her head in her hands. It had been too much information. And she knew where it was leading. With six generations of 'working women' behind her there was no way she was going to avoid working her way through college flat on
her
back—or on her hands and knees or reverse cowgirl or any other of the many positions people had sex in.
I'm a hereditary whore.
She needed to talk to someone about it but who? Ordinarily she would call her patient, tolerant grandmother O'Malley but it was Grandma who was at the root of the problem. Maybe if she called Grandmother Trevethlyn? No, not Nona. She was so proud that her son had pulled himself up by the bootstraps that it would be just rotten to tell her what some of that had entailed. On the other hand her Aunt Cora, her father's sister, had gone to college on a softball scholarship and was now a prominent attorney in the capitol. A much better choice. She popped open her cell phone.
"Auntie Cora?"
"Well, hello Poppy. What can I do for you?"
"I need to talk to someone."
"And your mother won't do?"
"Talking to my mother is why I have to talk to someone, Auntie."
