“i haven’t seen you in almost a month, aren’t you interested anymore?” Clara asked despondently.
“I’ve been busy but i’m free tonight. will you meet me in the park, when you get off work.”
“sure.” he couldn’t see but her eyes were red rimmed and overflowing with the fear of rejection. the corners of her mouth were turned down and her hands were trembling uncontrollably.
she hung up and turned to finish as much work as she could get through but with swollen eyes, blurred vision, shaking hands and a feeling of nausea she wasn’t hopeful about accomplishing much.
****
getting to the park early gave him time to prepare for a late night picnic. he laid out his favorite blue, blanket on the warm, soft grass. it had been crafted by his grandmother of scraps of his baby clothing and not only held memories of his childhood but carried a lingering scent of her toilet water. it was home to him and he hoped Clara would appreciate its significance because she was also home to him.
Skeeter added several small, flameless candles. He knew Clara loved candles and amber - the scent of these, was one of her favorite fragrances. He had also packed some of her favorite foods. he put those out and was turning on music from his Ipod when Clara arrived.
****
Clara got off work, signed out, slunk to her car, got in and crept to the park. Once there, she parked and walked hesitantly to the agreed upon location. the closer she got, the slower her steps but, when she saw the spread, her heart lightened.
“Hi.” she mumbled, peering at him from beneath lashes and half-closed lids that hid the secrets in her eyes.
“Hey beautiful.” he smiled and pulled her into the safety of his arms. He wrapped her in a fierce bear hug; leaning into the hug with his heart as well as his body and when her body began to relax against his, he whispered; “I’ve missed you.”
the words gave solace to her mind, comfort to her soul and hope to her heart.
“I know i’ve been missing lately.” he continued, pulling away from her and holding her at arms length, while looking into her eyes. “so much has happened and i have so much to tell you.” he sat down and pulled her with him onto the blanket.
as Clara sat and crossed her legs, she rubbed against the blanket. it felt nice - like it had been well-used and washed often. it felt like softened memories and she reached out to touch it but her hands were shaking. instead, she grabbed a strawberry from inside an open container and nibbled it to steady her nerves.
“what do you have to tell me?” she might as well get it over with.
“where do i begin?” he said and paused. he looked down at her but she she would not look at him. his heart was filled with love and all he wanted to do was share it with her. he had been away because of an emergency in his family and, being the oldest, it had fallen on him to take care of it. initially, he hadn’t told her because he didn’t think he would be away long. but, as time went by, he felt he couldn’t tell her over the phone. the opportunity had passed. he would tell her when he got back. he was certain she would understand.
being away from her did many things to and for him. most importantly, it helped him realize how much he loved her. each day that he was away brought home to him just how much she mattered. she had unwittingly become a part of him and the discovery was a revelation he wanted to share with her. but he had so much else to share, he didn’t know where to start.
“It doesn’t matter where you begin,” she asserted, her heart in her throat. “all that matters is that you begin. please, just begin.”
Dior would have preferred her face, as a whole, to be commonplace which would have kept her within the realms of normal but her face had its own share of uniqueness and she had learned to live with it and accept it and, while she had never thought of herself as pretty, she could say she was interesting and that worked for her. Interesting. She liked the word. It implied chat-worthy, noticeable without standing out in a crowd and worth taking a second look at…. but… just. Since people always seemed to take a second look at her, anyway, interesting worked. Her face was interesting.
Her eyes were enormous and the palest of gold; the tinge of color melting away beneath sunny days, blinding snow and bright lights. Above her eyes she had thick, bushy, deep, burnt-gold colored eyebrows. Honest to goodness gold but incredibly deep. She didn’t need eyebrow filler instead she had to make appointments every four weeks to keep her eyebrows trimmed and neat. To match her enormous eyes and thick, bushy eyebrows was a wide mouth with a full, bee-stung, bottom lip. Her eyes and mouth took up all of her face and to add a final artist’s touch, she had an actual mole just beneath her left eye. She was a golden girl with an impish smile, a quick laugh and a sensitive soul. Not pretty, she was interesting to look at and people looked at her.
When she wasn’t busy playing a sport, she studied hard and applied herself in school. Though her parents didn’t have a lot of money, she knew they wanted her to go to college as much as she did. She decide early on to work towards a college scholarship and spent all of her time in healthy activities such as soccer and track or in studying. Her neighbors and schoolmates were so impressed with her brains and athletic prowess, they almost forgot her looks but she never gave her looks a thought.
Her work ethic served her well and the first chance she got, she left her hometown to make her way in the world. She went to Yale University, got a business degree and then got a job as a fitness instructor, eventually opening her own small fitness center which specialized in helping customers set and achieve health and fitness goals. She was most proud of her online fitness coaching which included phone and email coaching, tracking programs, food logging, calorie tracking, and workout guidance. She worked hard and rarely went home to visit. But, when her mother died of a heart attack and her father had a stroke, she came home.
Her father had suffered a stroke months before her mom died. Everyone had thought her mom was in the best of health but that had been a lie. Her mom had been sick and had refused to reach out for help. Fiercely independent, her mom had taken care of her father until her heart gave out and she collapsed in their backyard, picking tomatoes for their nightly salad. Dior came home for the funeral but had been overwhelmed by her loss and left almost immediately.She had been very close to her mother and was devastated by her mom’s unexpected but fatal heart attack.She loved her father as well, but they were not close and staying seemed pointless.
But a few years later, her father suffered another stroke. This one left him unable to adequately take care of himself. When Dior came home and saw the condition of her father, she called her fitness center and set things up immediately. She left her employees in charge of the center and moved back to Queens to care for her father. She didn’t have to be at the center to run the online business and things were in place at the center for emergencies such as this. She would visit her business regularly but she trusted her employees to keep things running smoothly - everything would be okay.
Dior quickly and easily moved back into her childhood bedroom. She visited all of her father’s doctors and settled into an easy routine that suited her lifestyle and yet left her plenty of time to take care of her father. Knowing that she had a tendency to be a bit of a slob, she hired a woman to come in twice a week to keep things neat and keep food in the refrigerator. The blessings of this arrangements were many. Her father was thriving, her business was stable and she and her father were actually getting to know each other.
As she settled in, she kept to herself. Few of her neighbors knew she had returned home. She had seen most of her neighbors at her mother’s funeral and though everyone had been nice, she felt uncomfortable. This no longer felt like home and the adjustment was slow. She had few friends growing up and most of them had either also moved away or she had lost touch touch. Besides, she was shy and unwilling to make the effort to reconnect with people from her past, choosing instead to focus on the recovery and comfort of her father.
****
One Monday, in fall, her father expressed a desire to attend a special church event that Saturday. Dior hadn’t been to church in years. She knew he and her mother had been regulars at their neighborhood church; her father had been a member of the men’s choir and her mother a Sunday School teacher. But upon leaving home, she found Sunday was the only day she had to sleep late and relax and so she had given up mass in favor of late breakfasts in bed with the New York Times crossword and the latest movies.
Still, it was important to her father and so she agreed to attend the event with him. It was the church’s annual October Masquerade Ball. It had started one year as a replacement for Halloween parties for young adults and had morphed into the church’s biggest event. Women wore gowns, men tuxedos and children their best outfits. Everyone was required to wear a mask and the first thirty minutes was done in silence. In the last hour, masks were removed. As she thought back to the many balls she had attended, she remembered all the couples that were created. Without knowing who the person was, real connections were made that went beyond skin and outward beauty.
Even she had made a connection at one of the balls. Or so she had thought at the time. It was at the last ball she attended. She had come home during her first year of college to attend the ball because she had heard that David, a guy she had a crush on in high school, would be at there. She had spent the evening talking to who she thought was David. She was sure it was David. The guy she was talking to was sensitive and kind, funny and warm, smart and open - all the things David was. But when he had removed his mask, he had turned out to not be David at all. He had turned out to be Drew, a popular guy she had always assumed was just another sports jock with no real ambition. That was the impression he had given and she had never taken the time to get to know the guy behind the image. They had spent that night together and the rest of the weekend. She thought they had made a connection. She was deeply attracted to him and thought he felt the same. He had said she was beautiful and had talked about spending the holidays together. He said he would come to visit her at school and that he would take her to his school’s formal in the spring. He had taken her number and promised to call when he got back to school. But her phone never rang.
At first, she had made an effort to keep in touch. When he didn’t call, she thought something was wrong and called instead but he seemed uninterested or preoccupied. He rarely called and when he did, it always seemed he either had nothing else to do or it was filling up space - like when he was in the car, traveling. She started to think she had been mistaken about their weekend together and the attraction they had shared and winter-break confirmed it. When she came home for winter-break, he never came to church, never called, never made any attempt to get in touch with her. She gathered he wasn’t interested and stopped calling him. When he never reached out, she accepted that the night had been a fluke and though her heart hurt, she moved on. She never saw or heard from him again.
The day of the ball, Dior got up early, fixed her father breakfast and left him with an aide. Then she treated herself to a day of shopping and spa treatments. She bought an elegant, lilac and silver grey gown, silver sandals and a small evening purse at a quaint boutique in Manhasset. When she finished, she got a facial, body scrub, and deep tissue massage. She had a manicure and pedicure and her makeup done at a spa she found online. Then she got her hair trimmed and styled at her old hair salon. New people worked there but they seemed to know what they were doing and when they were finished, her face was framed by soft, warm, deep brown curls that shimmered and bounced as she moved.
When she got home, she helped her father dress and listened as he expressed his excitement at being able to attend the ball. He was sure they would have a great time. All of his friends would get to see his daughter again and he would be able to tell them how much she was helping him. Once he was in his own tuxedo and his favorite mask, she left him in the living room and went to get dress. Her hands shook as she pulled up the dress and she was thankful she did not have to do her own makeup or hair.
Once the dress was up and zipped, she grabbed her full face mask and checked her reflection. With the mask in place, her eyes, mole, and lips were not noticeable. So long as she kept the mask on, she might be able to get through the evening without being recognized and that was a relief. She knew her father had been telling everyone they were coming and that many of his friends would be looking for her. Once she got him to his friends, she would be on her own and she would enjoy the party from a distance.
When she went into the living room to get her father, he looked up at her brightly. “You look lovely” he smiled. “No one would recognize you. It’s been so long and you’ve matured into such a lovely woman.” His words lifted her heart and she was able to walk to the car with a lighter step. But, as she drove to church, her heart was racing a little and she had a slight film of sweat above her upper lip. The last time she had seen a lot of the people she would see tonight had been at her mother’s funeral. The focus then had been her mother and her father, not her. That was what she wanted from this evening. She wanted to go unnoticed. She did not want things to be as they had been when she was young. She liked anonymity.
At church, she wheeled her father to the basement where some of his friends were already waiting for him - he must have called them while he waited for her, in the living room. They hugged and teased her as if she were still fourteen. But it was good-natured and they meant well. They told her not to worry about her dad and sent her off to”play”. She loved their consideration of her, had forgotten how loving the people of her church could be. Perhaps she had been worrying for nothing.
She kissed her father, told him she would check on him later and strolled to the bathroom. Once there, she took a deep, calming breath. She didn’t understand why she was so nervous. If she ran into a old friend all they would do was catch up. That would be okay and if no one recognized her, she could laugh and chat in anonymity and that was good as well. What was wrong with her? She washed her hands, shrugged off her anxiety and walked out of the bathroom and into a man who was passing by the bathroom area while yelling at someone behind him. He had not been looking where he was going and she had been closing the bathroom door.
They both said sorry and then smiled. In front of her was a tall man with a full head of salt and pepper waves and a warm smile that managed to reach his eyes, despite the mask.
As he opened his mouth to say something to her, the music began. The first song of the night - In a Sentimental Mood by Duke Ellington and John Coltrane. It signaled the beginning of the dance and and the ending of any conversation for the next thirty minutes.
With flourish, the man in front of her, tipped his hand to his head, swept it in front of himself and then offered his arm. Did she want to walk with him? If so, his arm was available. She smiled and slipped her arm under his and let her hand rest on the curve of his elbow. He smiled down at her and escorted her into the main hall where couples were dancing. He stopped, turned to her and pointed to the dance floor. When she nodded, he escorted her onto the dance floor and proceeded to pull her into the circle of his arms.
As she took her first steps, she concentrated on making sure her movements matched his. She held herself away from him and kept her head down. With the masks on, after all, there was nothing to see. The music’s tempo changed; the bass grew more intense and the melody lightened. She began to enjoy herself and as she loosened up, he felt her muscles relax. He spun her away from him and pulled her in closer so that there bodies were almost touching. She could feel the heat radiating from him and smell his cologne mixed with his body. Unable to stop herself, she leaned in for a sniff. He smelled of vanilla and citrus and maleness. She could smell his attraction and in response, turned her head and tried to pull away from him. He understood her reticence and spun her out again and when he pulled her back, gave her some distance.
When the music changed again; this time to rhythm and blues, he took her hands and placed them around his neck. He put his hands around her waist and pulled her close to rest against the length of his body. Then, as the music slowed, his steps slowed and grew smaller until they were barely moving. They swayed to the music and once again her body betrayed her inner emotions. She leaned into him, letting her head rest against his chest and her hand lie over his heart. She closed her eyes and let the music take her to a place she did not often venture. She felt surprisingly safe and secure. As her body began to flow into his, he pulled her so close she could hear his heart beating. Once again, she smelled his scent beneath his cologne, his rising attraction and she wondered who this man was. Why she felt so attracted to him. She didn’t know him and he didn’t know her. She had promised herself not to let something like this happen to her again. She knew better. What was wrong with her? But maybe this time would be different. The music changed and “The Wobble “ came on.
It was time to talk again. The tempo picked up, voices slowly melded with the music and the spell was broken. She stepped back and looked into the eyes of the man she been dancing with for the last half an hour. Deep brown eyes with a hint of mischief twinkled behind the mask and a smile lifted the corners of his mouth. He was clearly happy. Who was he? She knew she couldn’t ask. Maybe he would let something slip when they talked. She definitely wanted to talk.
“Thank you for the dance. Would you like something to drink or eat?”
“Yes, thank you,” she answered easily. The mask hid her discomfort and made conversation easier - that and her curiosity.
“By the way” the silver-haired gentlemen murmured as he leaned down close. “You smell delicious.” Then, he took her hand and led her to the buffet table and poured them each a glass of the champagne punch.
They spent the rest of the ball together. They danced, ate, and talked about everything other than that which might give away their identity. The more they talked, the more curious she became. She listened for a clue as to his identity. He spoke in a hesitant voice that hinted at a true, deep resonance while she spoke in a whisper that hid her distinctively high pitch. They spoke of their jobs, their present lives, their hopes, dreams and fears. They left out their past and their families. He shared that he was a coach, a good friend, and a part time referee who loved the outdoors, keeping in shape and a good book. She shared that she was a business owner who had few but deep friendships and loved sports and music. His only hint was that he had always lived in Queens while she conceded that she had just moved back. As he spoke, something nudged at the back of her mind but it kept evading her, as though it did not want to get caught. She gave in and let the mystery swirl around her. She would find out soon enough.
An hour before the end of the ball, the music changed again and everybody began removing their masks. She watched as couples laughed, friends hugged, and surprise registered with those who did not know who they had been talking with. She remembered another time ... when she had been happily surprised only to later be incredibly disappointed by a guy who pretended to care and then moved on without so much as a by-your-leave. As her memories came flooding back, she looked up at the silver-haired man. He was removing his mask. She put her head down and closed her eyes. Her heart started pounding in her ears and she felt nauseous.She suddenly had an all-consuming urge to flee to the safety of her bedroom. But she was a grown woman, no child any longer. This was just one night. The similarities to her last ball were just coincidental. She was not a freshman in college and this man was not Drew.
He put a finger beneath her chin and forced her head up.Then, with his other hand, he removed her mask. Reluctantly, she opened her eyes and looked at the man she had spent most of the night with.
“Dior,” he said. “I thought that was you.” She closed her eyes and shook her head. Drew. She had no idea. She never thought. She hadn’t imagined. She should have. How. Dare. He.
She opened her eyes again and glared at him. “You knew it was me?”
“It was your eyes... and your mouth. I wasn’t sure. It’s been so many years but your eyes, your mouth… they haven’t changed. I hoped it was you.”
“How dare you.” she sneered, “If I had known, I would never have spoken to you… danced with you... spent the evening getting to know you.” The more she spoke, the angrier she got. “You’re a liar and can’t be trusted. I’m just glad I didn’t you my number or anything.” She turned and stormed away.
“Wait Dior, wait. Can’t we talk about this. It’s been so long, I’m not the same.” he followed behind her, trying to get her to talk to him but she was determined to ignore him.
She hurried away in search of her father and eventually found him in a small side room with many of the older couples and widowed members of the church. They were laughing and reminiscing about previous balls when she entered. The conversation stopped when she went to stand in front of her father’s chair.
“Hi everyone,” she grinned at the group. These men and women had watched her grow up. They had loved her and encouraged her. She had been away so long she had forgotten how much she had loved being here as a little girl. It was where she had always felt loved and accepted. Life beyond these walls was harsh and demanding. Fit in, play the game, follow the rules or pay the consequences. But here was acceptance. Perhaps coming home had been the right thing to do after all.
They all smiled back at her and many spoke. “Hello child.” “Looking good.” “Heard you were back, how come I haven’t seen you.” “Doing a great Job with your father.” “We’re proud of you.” “Glad you’re back.” “You’ve certainly grown into your face.” Their acceptance was heartwarming and she felt guilty coming to in to take her father home.
“Thanks everyone. I'm back for good. I’ll come and visit.” she tried to answer all the comments as best she could and then looked at her father. “Hi, dad. Are you okay?”
“Hey baby girl. I’m fine. Are you ready to go home? Bill said that he will bring me home if you don't want to stay any longer.”
“I’m fine dad. I’ll stay as long as you want.” She said, hiding her disappointment behind a smile
Bill came over and laid a strong hand on her shoulder. “Listen girl. Go home if you want. I’ll take him home. No big deal.”
His wife, Debbie, chimed in,”That’s right, honey. We’ve taken him home before so it’s no problem. We usually stay and help clean up, and we gossip. Events like this give us a chance to get together so don’t feel guilty if you’re ready. Go on. We’ll call you when we’re on our way.”
With much encouragement, Dior agreed to leave her father to his friends. They would keep an eye on him and bring him safely home. With a huge thanks, hugs to everyone and a kiss on her father’s cheek, she departed. She was eager to get home and sort out the evening. She headed back out through the big room to her car, looking around to avoid Drew. She was passing the buffet table when he saw her.
“Dior. I’ve been looking for you, I”m glad you haven’t left yet.” He put his hand on her arm and implored... “Please let me explain.”
She turned, shrugged his hand off and pushed him hard. “Get away from me. I’m not playing with you. I’m not interested”
There was a man behind Drew who was, at that moment, bending over to pick some chicken that had fallen from his plate.As Drew stepped back to keep his balance, he bumped into the bent man. The man wobbled into Drew’s knees causing Drew to lose his balance. Drew toppled over the bent man and, due to a slippery floor from a spot of spilled punch that had been missed when it was cleaned, the chicken and a bit of bad luck, Drew came down hard on his ankle and head and a loud “snap”and clunk was heard.
Dior watched as Drew struggled unsuccessfully to get to his feet. He was clearly in pain. “I don’t know which hurts more, my head or my foot.” Drew moaned as he gave up trying to stand. He looked at Dior and shook his head apologetically. “I think I’m in trouble here. I think I need help.”
Part of her felt bad for him and part of her was secretly grinning and chanting “yeah, just what you deserve,” but she hid her spiteful grin and said. “I’ll go get help.”
She walked to where a priest stood talking to a group of young adults and apologized for interrupting their conversation. “I believe there was a fairly serious accident by the buffet table. A guy was injured probably needs to go to the hospital.” She pointed to Drew and as everyone rushed to help she turned and left the ball.
She got in her car, tossed her purse and her mask in the seat next to her, started up and drove home. That was some party she thought. Drew… again… Drew. What was it her soul recognized in him that she once again fell under his spell? True, his voice was intoxicating, his words charming and he could make her laugh. but it was more than that. Something in her soul seemed to recognized something in him. Thankfully, this time, she had been able to walk away from him, even if he would be unable to walk away from the night. She had emerged unscathed even if he hadn’t. All in all, it seemed like the gods had been on her side tonight and she pulled into her driveway with a smile. You know what they say, “all’s well that ends well” and for her, the night had ended well.
****
Christmas Eve at her church was always beautiful. Lit candles sat in the windows, a huge wreath filled the front door and fat poinsettia plants shared space with the priest on the altar. She and her father were early; getting a spot that gave her easy movement, her father room to see and others access past him. She had not been to mass since she had been back to Queens and figured Christmas eve was a good time to start back.
As church members came in, most came over to greet her father. He was one of the oldest members and was well known and loved. She was proud of him and honored by the outpouring of love. As she sat back, watched, and chatted with Miss Debbie, she heard an uneven walking pace behind her. She was about to turn to see who had such a strange walk when it stopped. Shrugging it off as her imagination, she turned to continue her conversation when she heard her name.
“Dior, as I live and breathe. The prodigal daughter has returned.” Dior turned from Miss Emily and looked up into the warm, deep brown eyes of Drew Beckles. She blushed. She had not seen or spoken to him since the ball. She had heard he had to have surgery and was in a cast. Apparently it was true. She had never bothered to check on him or apologize or anything. She had known she would see him at some point but she had intentionally put it out of her mind. Now, here he was and there was no place to run.
“Hello, Drew. I see you’re out and about.”
“Thanks for the interest.” He leaned over to kiss Miss Debbie and whispered in her ear. She smiled, gave him a small slap against his shoulder and moved away from Dior to make room for Drew.
“Thanks Miss Debbie.”
“Miss Debbie, you don’t have to...”
“Now, now, Dior, be nice to Drew. He means well.” Miss Debbie said, smiling and winking at Drew.
Dior sighed and opened her prayer book as Drew leaned across her to say hello to her father. “You should have done that before you sat down.” She pushed him back.
“Uh, uh, uh,” he said. “Remember the last time you pushed me.”
“Very funny.”
She stared at her open prayer book and attempted to ignore Drew. “It’s good to see you. I missed you.”
She pretended to read the prayer book. “You look good.” She ignored him.
He leaned down and sniffed at her neck. “You smell good too.”
She looked to Miss Debbie who was busy laughing into her hand. She looked to her father; he was smirking. She looked at Drew, He had a huge cake-eating grin on his face. He raised one eyebrow at her, tilted his head, looked in her pale gold eyes and blew her a kiss. “You might as well give in now, you know. We’re a done deal.”
She turned her head and ignored him. She was going to let this moment last as long as possible. She wanted answers but she also wanted him. She hated to be a foregone conclusion and would hold out as long as she could but she was fairly confident this time would be different. This time was for keeps.
She had given him every chance but every time they became intimate, he would bolt. Sometimes for days, sometimes for weeks, sometimes longer than that. Each time he tried to stay away, each and every time, something would happen to unite them. It was clear to her, they belonged together, But that was not clear to him. Three weeks ago , however, she had been in a different place. She couldn’t say what had happened, what had triggered the new attitude, but she had a new attitude. She was done.
She called him to let him know where she was but he would not take her call. He chose to text instead. He needed to keep his distance. She cared about him enough to respect his need. She laid her feelings out on the phone like a hand of poker. But he threw them back at her. He knew her feelings, knew where she stood; he just wasn’t crossing that bridge. It hurt, but she let him go and this time promised not to look back.
Then, of course, life got in the way. First he got busy at work and then she had to go away on business.They seemed to be unable to have a second date. She got discouraged. Maybe this wasn’t supposed to happen. Maybe the universe was warning her not to get attached. A week later, while sitting at home, lamenting her situation, her old boyfriend called. He was going to be in her neighborhood, could he stop by. She said sure. She didn’t think anything of it.
When he showed up, he said they needed to talk and told her how much he missed her and how much he wanted to try again. She was surprised and didn’t know what to say. Her throat closed and she couldn’t breathe. At that moment, her phone rang. It was the new guy, finally calling. She panicked and excused herself and went to the bathroom to get herself together. While in the bathroom, she opened the window and took heaving gulps of air. What should she do? She had cared for her old boyfriend for years. No man had ever been able to get her to stop thinking about him. At least not until this new guy. She felt he had the potential to be the one. He could be the one she could finally experience love with. But she wanted, needed closure with her old flame
Her connection with both of them was amazing. When she and her old flame were together, their attraction was palpable. With the new guy, she laughed and smiled and glowed. When they were together, she felt female and sexual yet shy. With the old guy, she felt womanly and yet a little self-conscious. Both brought out the good she could be as well as the scared little girl that had never grown up.
“Sweetie? Are you okay in there?”
“I’m fine,” she answered as as her phone rang again. He was calling again. One on the phone and one in the other room. One here and one there. One choice. One decision. One chance. The past revisited and a chance at a new future...maybe. Maybe not. Maybe he was calling to say never mind. But, it didn’t really matter why he was calling. It shouldn’t matter what he was going to say. The man she chose should be her decision. She should not let either man’s choice sway her. It must be her choice, her decision. It was her life after all and she was a grown woman capable of making such decisions. But. Which. One. Was. The. One.
She used the facilities and then washed her hands. She sprayed a bit of perfume behind her ears and added a touch of gloss to her lips for courage. Then, she opened the door and made her way slowly down the hallway to the living room and her decision. She couldn’t catch her breath and her heart was racing. Her cheeks were pink and the air around her crackled with energy. She couldn’t, at that moment ,say what she was going to do or what was going to happen but she knew it was going to be an interesting night.
