“Okay, sure.”
A young man stopped at the table and dropped off our bruschetta with a small plate for each of us. We tucked in, and our main courses arrived soon after. The food was sublime, perfect texture on my pasta and sauce, and Sandy’s risotto was creamy and rich.
We talked about the match, with Sandy telling me that she thought Paige had played wonderfully. Adrienne, well…
“She’s got a lot of talent. If I could just get her to listen to me she might really be something.”
“Her parents were very pleased with themselves and their daughter.”
Sandy nodded, smirking. “I Imagine. I’d’ve been a lot more pleased if she ever passed the ball. She left at least three grade A chances out there by taking bad shots.”
“We won, though. That’s good.”
“We beat a team that was below five-hundred last year, and graduated seven seniors, including both their starting defensemen and their center mid. I wouldn’t get too excited about it.”
I smiled at her. “You’re getting a little excited, though, huh?”
Sandy let go a giggle. “Maybe a little. It didn’t suck.”
When we finally got up to leave there were only two other groups still in the restaurant. We talked about everything, her playing in Europe and Asia, my summer trips to the mountains with my dad. Christmases and spring breaks, crazy things from college, she was so easy to talk to, and as we walked back out into the evening, I slipped my arm into hers without even thinking.
We got to my car, and I fiddled with my keys, not wanting the evening to end. I felt her hand on my shoulder, and I turned to face her, leaning back against my minivan. She moved closer, brushing a strand of my dark hair behind my ear.
“I had a lovely time tonight, Melanie.”
I nodded, my lips parting as she moved closer. “Me too.”
And then she was kissing me, my insides dissolving at the contact. I moaned, my hand sliding behind her head, and my mouth opening and admitting her searching tongue to caress mine. It was the deepest kiss we’d ever shared, and my body was heating up quickly.
“Melanie? Come home with me?”
Reality came crashing back, and my head dropped.
“Too soon, I’m sorry.” Sandra kissed my forehead, which felt amazing, by the way, but I didn’t look up.
“No, I’m sorry.”
“Melanie, it’s okay. We can take it as slow as you need, okay?”
“Okay.” I played with the collar on her polo. “I really like you, Sandy. I just, I don’t know.”
She touched my cheek with her fingertips. “You don’t have to know. We’ll get there together.” One side of her mouth lifted into an adorable smile as she looked into my eyes. “It’s going to be so much fun falling in love with you.”
I whimpered, my mind trying to wrap my head around what she’d just said. I felt a tear leak free as she pressed her lips to mine again. I don’t know how long it lasted, but it was wonderful, and I wondered why the hell I wasn’t getting into her car instead of mine.
Way too soon she pulled away. “Goodnight, Melanie.”
“Bye.” As I watched her walk away my emotions were swirling. Falling in love with me? Holy hell, what were we doing? What was I doing? My thoughts chased themselves around my brain the entire drive home.
I’d managed to get ready for bed, the simple tasks of taking off my makeup and putting on my nightgown calming me down. As I was plugging in my phone I saw a text had come through while I was in the bathroom.
Sandy – Dreaming about you, beautiful.
I covered my mouth with my hand, a tear slipping free. Oh, god, I was falling in love with her, too. Or maybe it was just because she was paying attention to me. I mean, it’s been so damn long since anyone did that. Was it real? Damn, those kisses were real, and the way I could barely breathe when she was close to me, that was real.
And tomorrow night I was going to have to be fake, again. I didn’t want to think about it, so I didn’t. I thought about Sandy’s pretty green eyes, her wry smile, the way they softened her aquiline features. I could be in her bed right now. What would she be doing to me? Or would she have just taken one look at me naked and thrown me out? That was more likely, probably. I looked at her text again, my eyes fixing on the last word. Maybe she really did think that.
As I lay back in the chair, my stylist washed my hair and I tried to pretend I was getting ready for a date with Sandy. The dark skinned young woman was stoically going about her business, trimming off any damaged ends, not asking about what I was doing tonight. I wouldn’t have minded, but this was a high end boutique, and my mother would no more make small talk with a hairdresser than she would clean her own toilets, so they probably just assumed.
“Has my mother been here, yet?”
“No, Ma’am, she has an appointment in about an hour, I think.”
“Scheduled conveniently after I leave.” I chuckled. “Typical. Have you worked on her?”
“No, Ma’am. She wouldn’t let, um, she’s very particular about who she trusts to set her hair.”
I laughed. “Yeah, that sounds like her. We’re both cast-offs then. Not good enough.”
I could see a shadow of fear and shame pass over the pretty young woman’s face. “I’m sorry. Do you want someone else?”
“Absolutely not. I think I’m in excellent company.”
She gave a shy smile, nodding and continuing her work. My faith in her was well rewarded, as the highlights she put into my dark hair looked amazing, and I loved the easy waves that fell down around my shoulder. They were free and bouncy, but still somehow elegant. I gave her a hug and a sizable tip, and when I got back into my van I took a selfie, something I do not do often. I lifted a shoulder, letting my head cock to the side, putting on my most coquettish smile, making my eyes soft.
I sent the picture to Sandy, and I almost instantly got a text back, the emoji with hearts for eyes.
Sandy – I still want to see the dress
Me- You will, I promise.
I started up the engine, glancing over my shoulder to the garment bag hanging in the back. My new dress was inside, altered and fitted. It had felt good when I’d tried it on, even without the industrial strength undergarments I was planning on using tonight.
I was too nervous to eat anything since breakfast, which was just a bowl of Special K (the kind with strawberries, I’m not a total masochist). There was supposed to be a dinner tonight, but we’ve already talked about me, food, and groups of people. So I was starving, but also queasy enough with nerves not to do anything about it.
It was getting to be six, so I set to my least favorite task of getting ready, pulling out my most effective shapewear. At least it would smooth out the worst of my lumps and bulges. My triple D bralette went on first, and then I lay down on my bed and prepared for the battle to come. After much grunting and groaning and sucking it in, I was able to zip up my medieval torture device (the aforementioned shapewear) and examine myself in the mirror. It may not be comfortable, but it definitely did its job.
I took time to put on my makeup, channeling everything my mother had ever taught me about understated elegance. I mean, she wasn’t always wrong about everything. It looked good, which meant it was time to put on the dress and face the music.
Looking at myself in the mirror my mind flashed back to the first time I’d done this, or at least, the first time when I felt like a young woman instead of a kid. It had been homecoming of my freshman year, I was a member of the varsity cheer squad, and I looked completely different than I had just two years ago. It was a woman’s figure looking back at me, with sultry eyes and a full bust. My mother had been standing next to me, smiling, and she’d called me beautiful for the first time I could remember.
Now I could barely see the echoes of that girl. I still had the hourglass figure, granted it was oversized and assisted by form shaping underwear, and somewhere the face of that bright-eyed girl was buried under all the years.
My phone buzzed from my bed stand, shaking me out of my reverie.
Sandra – Are you wearing your dress yet? Heart-eye emoji.
The clouds crowding my mind immediately dispersed, and a smile stretched across my cheeks.
Me – Yeah. Wanna see?
Sandra – Are you kidding? Tongue out emoji.
I giggled and turned to set my phone on a stand, setting it to take a picture. I stepped in front of it and posed. I took two more, and as I was setting it for the last one I caught my reflection in my mirror. I was smiling, and for the briefest moment I saw that innocent kid again, full of life and hope.
I took more pictures, eventually sending her a string of them, front, side, even one from the back while looking over my shoulder with my best ‘come hither’ look. Somehow it was easy. I mean, I knew that I didn’t look great, not by the world’s standards, anyway, but for just a moment it didn’t matter. Sandy was different.
Sandy – Wow, Melanie, you look gorgeous.
Me – Thanks. Bashful emoji.
Sandy – God I wish I could dance with you tonight.
Me – Me too.
I closed my eyes and imagined dancing with Sandy, her strong arms around me as my head rested on her shoulder.
For a minivan, my Chrysler Pacifica was really nice, but the fact remains – luxury automakers are not in the business of making minivans. When I pulled up to the valet line for the party I was behind a Mercedes-Benz and what I think was a Maserati. As I made it to the front of the line I watched the red-vested kid’s face fall when he saw what he was going to have to go park, but he managed to be polite as he took my keys and I headed up the marble steps into the ballroom.