by SL Naeole
My chest felt warm as several feelings all piled in together to fill up my heart. They were all trying to get my attention, but the one I ignored was the melancholy that seemed ready to shout "Why now?"
I grabbed his hand and pulled him in for an awkward hug. His tall, athletic frame against my thin, moderately short one, hampered by stiff, plastered limbs made for an odd pairing, but we managed to make the embrace work. "Thank you, Graham. You really are a good friend."
"Of course I am. I know my talents." He pulled back, forcing my release, and opened the front door for me.
"Dad, Janice--I'm home!" I shouted. I stared at the little table that sat in the little hallway that was supposed to hold your keys, wallet--whatever it was one took when they had an active social life. I had nothing to place there, and that fact suddenly caught me off guard.
"Graham, remind me the next time we're near the mall that I need to get a purse," I said to him as we walked into the living room. Dad was sitting in his recliner, reading a very thick book--it had babies on the cover. "What are you reading Dad?"
He looked up over the pages and smiled at me. "Hey kiddo." He nodded to Graham. "Hey Graham, there're sandwiches in the kitchen." He waited until Graham had left us alone before he continued, "This is supposed to be the best baby book on the market, and since it's been so long since you've been in diapers, I thought I'd bone up on what to do. Did the weather hold up at the cemetery?"
I nodded. "It was a nice day. The ground was a little wet, but it always is this time of year." I sat down on the couch next to him, my face anxious for him to tell me how the appointment went. "So, where's Janice? How'd the doctor's visit go?"
He looked at me, puzzled.
I could have slapped myself. He hadn't told me about the doctor's appointment. Robert had, and not having much experience in the lying department left me at a loss for words to try and recover from the gaffe.
"Did Janice tell you about the appointment? I thought she had wanted to keep it private, what with the worries she's had and all. Oh well," he looked at the page he had been reading, committing it to memory, and then put it down to focus on our conversation. "According to the obstetrician, the baby is doing very well. Janice is a little over thirteen weeks pregnant, and if she can make it three more weeks, then she'll be past the most dangerous point. This book says that we can find out if it's a boy or a girl by your birthday. Wouldn't that be a great present?" He was beaming.
I couldn't help but smile back. "Not to mention cheap!" The fact that my birthday fell on Christmas had always meant dual purpose presents, so the idea that he was referring to it specifically as my birthday felt good.
"So, tell me about your morning. What did you do besides visit Mom's grave?"
Did I have the courage to tell him? He'd find out sooner or later... "Well, Robert stopped by this morning--he brought over a flower for me to take to Mom's grave--and he asked me to go with him to a wedding for a family friend--the flower was really beautiful."
Dad's face held absolutely still, his expression frozen on his face. It was dismay. I didn't even know if he had taken a breath in the last few minutes, he seemed so distracted by what I had told him. I was ready to shout out for Janice to call 911 when he sighed, his shoulders slumping, and started speaking again.
"I guess I knew it was going to happen sooner or later, the two of you dating I mean."
I bit my lip, trying to figure out what exactly I could say to bring back the cheer he had had when reading about changing dirty diapers. Mostly though, I was trying to figure out how it was that he knew something like this would happen when I didn't.
"Is he going to pick you up, or are you going to be needing a ride to this wedding?"
My hands were gripping my knees very tightly, the plaster against plaster on my right side making it a bit easier to try and not focus on the next bit of information I had to share. "Um, Dad--he's coming to pick me up. He kind of has to, since he's bringing my dress."
"He's what?" Dad's eyes grew wide with shock. "He's bringing you a dress?"
I nodded, "He's buying it, actually, since I don't own anything even remotely dress-like."
And then I saw it. Saw something that I didn't expect to see on his face. He smiled. The corners of his eyes crinkled up, and in that moment, he looked very young. He was pleased, happy.
"He's actually getting you to wear a dress. Will wonders never cease."
I wanted to say that it was only because Robert was an angel, and had supernatural sway when it came to my reservations but I knew that wasn't true; and even if it were, Dad would have laughed at me, and agreed without knowing that I was being serious.
Instead, I simply shrugged my shoulders and threw his words back at him, "It was going to happen sooner or later."
Graham came out of the kitchen then, his hand wrapped around a massive submarine sandwich, his mouth full of food. And still, he managed to spout out a question.
"Did she tell you about the dress?"
I threw my hands up. "Really, is this as momentous an occasion as you two are making it out to be?"
The looks on their faces echoed the answer that my conscience had started screaming before the question had even left my lips. Yes, this was a momentous occasion. I was going on my first date, and I was doing it in a dress of all things. There wasn't anything more momentous that that. Not in the life of your average teenager. Unless, of course, you weren't average, and that first date happened to be with an angel...who could fly...and read minds.
PREPARATION
Graham had insisted on waiting for Robert to arrive. Dad seemed to think this was a great idea, and the two of them had no problem sitting on the sofa and watching one guy related movie after another for the next few hours while I tried to figure out what exactly I had to do to get ready.
I took a long shower, scrubbing my skin until it glowed red from all the friction. I shaved my left leg and my armpits, and even borrowed a pair of tweezers from Janice to trim the stray strands of hair that floated above my eyes. My eyebrows, thank goodness, were the only things on my face that I believe are perfect. No need for zealous plucking or shaping. They had just the right arch, thickness, and length, and I cannot believe I just said that.
In my boxers and tank top, I sat on my bed, waiting. I smelled like a fruit salad, having allowed Janice to drench me in some of her pastel body lotions and sprays. She even gave me a tube of lip gloss that, she said, "would look good with anything because it's sheer." I'd take her word for it because that was as far ahead as I'd allow her to get.
I knew I'd have to wear a little bit of makeup, but I just wasn't sure to what degree. That dress was becoming more and more of an irritant to me and it was mainly because I wouldn't know what it would look like until it was here. What color would it be? What length? I certainly hoped it wasn't short. I didn't want my casts to be the focus of conversation, and unfortunately, as useless as they were, I simply couldn't remove them either. Only two weeks had gone by since the accident and by all accounts, I shouldn't even be out of bed, much less walking around without crutches.
Robert's healing ability had saved my life, but it had also made me one big fraud as well, and that was weighing on my conscience.
I looked at the clock on my dresser and scowled. It felt like the clock was teasing me; I had no doubt that if it could, the numbers would scroll backwards, drawing out the tension for as long as possible in the hopes that I'd explode from being wound too tight. My fingers began a tapping rhythm against my leg, my impatience rapping out a beat that grew faster as each minute ticked by.
I had my window open, willing the sound of a motorcycle, car, bus--anything to announce Robert's arrival. I was beginning to feel the twinges of doubt that he'd even show up when I heard the doorbell ring. I rushed to the window to see if there was another vehicle outside, but I saw nothing.
"Stupid solicitors," I mumbled. I stared at my fingernails, deciding whether or not it would be acceptable to start chewing on
them when I heard Dad call my name. I looked at the clock on my dresser. Five o'clock, on the nose. Of course he'd arrive exactly on time, just as he'd said.
Trying to look as uninterested and as calm as possible, I descended down the stairs and walked into the living room. Three male figures were standing there forming a triangle of male aggression. Graham had his arms folded against his chest, while Dad had one hand braced across his abdomen and the other was rubbing his chin, as though he were contemplating something of dire importance.
The apex of this unusual triad was a beautiful creature dressed all in black, his face serene, as though the tension that seemed to choke even me had no effect on him. He was holding up a garment bag in one hand, a large, separate store bag in the other. He knew I was coming down before I had even taken a single step out of my bedroom door, knew that I had been excited, knew that I was trying to keep all of my emotions reigned in. And he liked it.
"Hello, Grace."
My cheeks hurt, I was smiling so widely. "You're on time."
"I told you I'd be here at five. I hope you didn't doubt me," he said, smiling back.
Dad's cough and Graham's grunt reminded me that they were still in the room. "Is that the dress?"
He handed me the two bags, and nodded, "Your dress, a pair of matching sandals, and some extras to pick and choose at your discretion."
I eyed them warily. "Will I know how to put them all on?"
A voice from behind me answered, "I'll help you." Janice grabbed the bags out of my hands and nudged me towards the stairs, pulling me when my feet refused to budge. "Come on, let's get you dressed."
When I climbed up the first two steps, I turned to look behind me. The triad were now all looking in my direction, watching me leave an awkward caterpillar. Would I return as a beautiful butterfly? Or would I return as the caterpillar version of James Gumb?
I swallowed my fear and apprehension and continued up the stairs. Janice was already in my room, the garment bag hanging up in the closet, the other bag's contents dumped out on my bed. I closed the door behind me, needing the few moments that doing so required to commit to what I was about to do.
Taking a deep breath, I walked over to Janice. Her face was lit with excitement. I could see that she was looking forward to this about as much as Dad wasn't. "Are you ready to see it?" she asked me.
I could do nothing else but nod, my voice simply not cooperating with me at the moment. I took another deep breath as I watched her pull the zipper of the garment bag down, and push the bag around and away from the material that lay within.
At first, it looked like a waterfall of shimmering moss had spilled from the bag. I took a few steps closer, curious at the strange color. Janice pulled the dress completely out of the bag and held it out so that I could see it better.
It was strapless, the front bust area covered in rough cut crystals that ran through every shade between a rich golden amber to deep chocolate browns, ranging from the size of a pea to that of a quarter. The crystals extended only a few inches down the bust, and where they ended, two streams of moss colored chiffon flowed down. The dress itself was constructed of satin in the same gray-green color. The shimmer of the satin and the delicate and flowing chiffon trailed to the floor; it wasn't a short dress. My first wish granted.
"Well, there's really nothing else to do but put it on," I sighed. It was definitely much prettier than I had expected. I took off my shirt and shorts, when a seemingly important question came into my head. "What kind of bra do I wear with this?"
"You wear a strapless bra or a bustier with a strapless dress," Janice answered me before recognition dawned on her. "Oh."
"Yeah. Oh. I don't have one of those." Of course I didn't have one. I'd never needed one.
Janice put the tip of her thumb between her lips, chewing on it as she thought about what could be done. "It would be completely inappropriate for him to have done it. He wouldn't have. He couldn't...but let's see if Robert has something that might work in this pile of packages."
She sat on the bed and contemplated each package that she'd emptied from the larger bag. "Ah-hah. I'll have to have a discussion with him about this--highly improper--so expensive, too..."
She grabbed a pale, opalescent pink box with black lettering and handed it to me. I looked at the elegant script that listed the name. I lifted the lid and gasped. I covered my mouth, and looked at Janice. Provocateur indeed! Amongst the tissue was something I had never thought I'd ever wear: a shiny, satin corset.
"H-how am I supposed to get this on?" I looked at Janice, terrified that I'd strangle myself with it.
She smiled. "I'm more concerned with how it was that Robert came about purchasing that for you, but that can be answered later. Let's get this on you. Come here."
She took the foreign-to-Grace device out of its box and proceeded to undo about eight hooks, then wrapped the corset around me, refastening the hooks in the front. She turned me around and pushed the garment up over my bra, then began to tighten the strings. When she had worked halfway down the back, she unhooked my bra. "You can take that off now, Grace."
I pulled the bra out from beneath the corset and then let the straps fall down my arms, all while Janice proceeded to strangle me from the chest down. "Oomph" I groaned as she pulled the strings as tight as they could go without forcing me to bend over, and then tying them into what I hoped was an easily undone bow. I would want nothing getting between me and oxygen when I came home and could take this medieval torture device off.
Janice turned me around again, assessing the job she'd done, and raised her eyebrows in...surprise? Shock? "Wow. I'm going to have to ask Robert where he found this so that I can get one of these for myself."
Looking at the clock on my dresser, she quickly grabbed the dress and unzipped it. "Okay, you're going to have to sit down on the bed. I'll slip this over your feet, and then you'll stand and I'll pull it up."
I did exactly as she had instructed, allowing her to slide the smooth fabric over my legs. I stood and felt the fabric rush over my waist and the corset. I felt her pull the zipper up my back, tucking the corset strings in so as not to catch them, and then she stepped back to give me room to allow the material to fall around me. It was a perfect fit. Of course it was. He'd made sure of that.
Janice looked at the pile of boxes and bags on the bed and started rummaging through them. In one box she found a set of hair clips with jeweled dragonflies on them. In another, she found a pair of strappy bronze sandals that were exactly my size. She emptied out the contents of a small bag and discovered two small velvet boxes. One contained an amber pendant in the shape of a heart, while the other had amber drop earrings.
"I've got to say this much about your Robert. He's got incredible taste. He's spent an awful lot on you for one evening, Grace. I have to wonder what exactly it is he expects from you after all of this," she said, holding up the jewelry boxes to emphasize her point about cost.
"He doesn't expect anything of me," I told her, knowing that it was the truth far more than it was anything else. "And even if he does, he's not exactly going to be getting anything out of this other than perhaps extreme embarrassment and regret."
The clicking sound of Janice's tongue told me that I probably didn't know what I was talking about. I just didn't know which part. Sighing, she grabbed my brush from the dresser and began detangling my hair. In less time than in took to dress me, she had my hair pinned up in a French twist, loose strands tumbling out near my ears and down the back of my neck.
She took the necklace out of its box and fastened it to me, the pendant resting nicely against my chest. She took the earrings out and a surprised "oh" came out of her mouth. "They're clip-ons."
I looked at the jewelry in her hands and she was right. I didn't understand how Robert could have gotten everything else right but that. "I guess he didn't know that I have pierced ears," I mumbled.
Janice looked closely at me, her eyes scrutinizing something that I couldn't see witho
ut a mirror. "Um--your ears aren't pierced, Grace."
"What?" I quickly went around her and shoved my face into the mirror that sat above my dresser, zeroing in on the lobes that I had had pierced when I was only five, the little golden star earrings having never left them since. Only there were no golden stars. There were no holes. "How in the-" I kept turning my head to the left and the right, thinking that when I flipped back, there'd be a glint of gold there. Each time, I was disappointed.
He'd gotten it right after all. How had he known something about me that I didn't? And where were my earrings? I ground my teeth as this newfound information and lack thereof dug itself a nice hole in my mind, intent on settling in there until I found out the circumstances that led to this.
I sighed and grabbed the earrings from Janice, apparently amused and slightly alarmed that I had been oblivious to my lack of earring holes. I clipped the amber pieces to my ears, and reached for the sandals. Well...sandal, really. I wasn't going to be wearing the right one, after all. I put it on my foot and tried walking around. The slight heel on it cause me to limp as I took several steps around the room, but it wasn't uncomfortable, and I sent a little prayer of thanks his way for finding a pair of women's shoes that weren't created for the utter destruction of my feet.
Janice took a look at me and nodded her head a few times, obviously thinking about what else was needed to complete the gift-wrapping she was doing to me. She went over to the dresser and picked up something that was definitely not mine and a little pot that also wasn't mine, and started unscrewing the lid off of it.
"I'm going to line your eyes, apply a bit of mascara, and then you'll wear the gloss. That'll be it. You don't need anything else," she said as she came toward me with the brush, wielding it like the tool that it was, only it looked more like a weapon to me. "Close your eyes, Grace."