But first a word from Bernie: "Mom, do I look fat?"

As Gary and Lil decided what to do with the day, Gary's girlfriend Bernie was stepping from the shower.

Naomi Bernice Bernstein toweled herself from wet to damp and put on her glasses. Now she stood on the shower mat, surveying herself critically in the full-length mirror. Her brown eyes and hair and her clear honey-toned skin she took for granted. The curves of her cheeks, breasts, belly and hips came in for special inspection. She squinted at her deep navel.

"Mom," Bernie said. "Do I look fat?"

"Just a sec, Bernie," her mother said from the other side of the bathroom, "Still tinkling." Joyce finished urinating, patted herself dry, and flushed. After washing her hands, she stepped up beside Bernie. Joyce was nude, the way she usually went at home when not expecting guests.

"Darling," her mother answered. "You look beautiful. It's not healthy for women to believe they should look like underfed teenage boys. Did Gary say anything like that?" She frowned.

"No..." Bernie said. "But, well, all through high school, when I was feeling bad about not having a boyfriend, you kept telling me not to worry, that boys mature later, all that sort of stuff. But still, you know, he's the first guy...I still have to wonder about what he sees in me."

The two women stood and looked at the mirror. Bernie was a little taller than her mother. Joyce had more pronounced curves, though Bernie's breasts were more prominent. Joyce's hair was dark and frizzy. Bernie's hair was slicked down and dark with water, but it was less unruly, somewhere between wavy and curly, and a tone lighter than her mother's.

Joyce put her hands on Bernie's shoulders and looked at Bernie's reflected eyes in the mirror. "I see a beautiful young woman, smart, sensitive, and choosy about who she gets close to. Lovely, caring, and very sexy. I certainly hope that's what Gary sees in you. But more important than that is what you see in you. You can't depend on a man, any man, to tell you what to believe about yourself."

Bernie **** a little smile through her worry.

Joyce put her head on Bernie's shoulder and hugged her daughter from behind. "Let me comb out your hair. That always helps you feel better."

"Thanks mom," Bernie said.

They went to Joyce's bedroom. Bernie sat on the padded bench in front of her dressing table, and Joyce pulled up a chair behind her.

Joyce slowly combed out Bernie's wet hair, stopping now and then to blot it with a towel. Bernie felt ripples of sensation go through her head and shoulders as her mother pulled the comb through her hair over and over, rubbing the tension out of her scalp. Tears fell from her eyes as she let her tense shoulders go loose.

When Bernie's hair was combed into shining furrows, Joyce brushed it into shape, taking extra time to go several times through each lock of hair, over each part of Bernie's scalp. To finish, she tied it up in a Greek knot and brushed the loose strands out to fluff them up. She put the comb and brush down and stroked Bernie's shoulders.

Bernie sighed. "I feel a lot better, mom. Thanks."

"My pleasure," Joyce said. She kissed her daughter's cheek and stood up.

Bernie shifted her weight to get up and let a small fart. "Oops!" she said.

"Thank you, Bernie," her mom said. Joyce had learned to thank people for burps and farts at her massage school, so they could be more at ease with their bodies.

Bernie giggled. "Guess you've got me relaxed," she said. "I should go get dressed."

"That's right, you're going to see Gary later," Joyce said. "It'll probably take you hours."

"Mo-omm!" Bernie said.

Joyce laughed. "On second thought, maybe you should greet him just as you are." She looked at Bernie, nude but for her glasses, looking over back over her shoulder.

Bernie opened the linen closet at the top of the stairs and started rummaging through the shelves.

Joyce said, "If you're looking for the Magic Wand, I took it downstairs. I'm having a Sensuality Circle meeting here at eight-thirty, and we'll probably want it for then. Do you want to join us if Gary can't make it?"

"Oh," Bernie said. She had been looking for the plug-in Hitachi vibrator that usually lived in the upstairs linen closet.

"You can go down and get it if you want to use it now. Just wash it and put it back in the wicker chest in the living room when you're done," Joyce said. "Or you can use one of mine." She opened a bedside drawer to show Bernie the choices.

"Thanks mom!" Bernie said. There were advantages to having a mother who'd written a book called "Free To Masturbate." She looked over her mother's dildos, vibrators, beads, probes, and other toys. She seized a couple of promising ones.

"I was about to take a masturbation break myself if you want to do it together, darling," Joyce said. "Or in case you want a hand with that one," she said, indicating one of the toys Bernie had grabbed.