Neither of us said much at breakfast. Mom wore a white nightie I'd never seen before. The material was opaque, and I could tell she had on a bra. It was longer than her other selections, going below her knees. It dawned on me that Mom had worn different negligees for each client. Did color have anything to do with it? Suddenly it hit me; it was the style, not color. The green one exposed her arms so I could stroke her smooth skin. The pink one was short, allowing me to feel her thighs. What did this white one signify? I wouldn't know the reason until she retrieved me...