Ascent

by M. C. Zappitello

  The expression on Will's face penetrated all the way to my heart. "I know exactly who you are." He spoke slowly and distinctly, separating each word, "And . . . you . . . are . . . beautiful."

  There was no arguing with him. But I simply did not see myself that way.

  Heavy sigh. I knew what he wanted. And I knew he wouldn't ask me. "I will give it a try."

  He looked suspicious. "For you, or for me?"

  The truth? "For both of us."

  He searched my mind and face meticulously before responding. "Really?" Then he smiled.

  I smiled back. "Honest."

  "Alright. Then what about the, um, effusive gratitude that you stopped yourself from expressing earlier?"

  "Oh, yeah." It felt more like he was thanking me as he kissed me with commendable thoroughness. I sure liked it when he did that.

  When we made it to my room, he stood just inside the door and looked around. It was the first time, I realized, that he had actually come in. "This room suits you. It looks like you're bringing what you like about the outside world inside with you. In a way that won't overwhelm you." I hadn't looked at it that way before, but he was right. "What can I do to help?" he asked as I pulled Gina's old suitcase out of my closet.

  "Would you put things in the suitcase as I gather them up?" I asked.

  "Sure," he said, taking the suitcase from me and opening it on my bed. I started with a couple of sweaters and jeans and pairs of socks. Will took them from me as I got them out and placed them neatly in the suitcase. I got a pair of pajamas out and put them in his waiting hands, then opened my underwear drawer. And I just stood there. Why did I feel funny all of a sudden? Will came back to stand by me, and I still didn't move.

  "I've done laundry for both Mom and Melinda," he offered. "I've seen it all before, Cassie." Maybe so. But those hadn't been my bras and panties. Mine were clean and almost new, so no call to be embarrassed on that account. But, consistent with my overall approach of trying to keep life as uncomplicated as possible, they were all pretty much the same―white and rather plain. I had only ever seen Sam's as an example of what others my age actually wore, and hers were a rainbow of colors with a lot more decoration and . . . style? Was there something lacking in mine?

  Oh, well. I took what I would need out of the drawer and handed them to Will. Instead of putting them directly in the suitcase, as he had done with the other articles of clothing I had given him, he looked at them―feeling the fabric and fingering the simple trim on each one. When he was finished, he looked me straight in the eye. "Mom likes white, too," he said. Then he leaned over to whisper close at my ear, "I love you, Cassie. And I promise I'll still love you whatever you do―or don't―wear." He quietly kissed my ear, giving a gentle tug to the lobe between his lips, then went and put my underwear in the suitcase.

  "What next?" he asked, smiling.

  It took me a minute. Okay. "Toiletries," I murmured, and went into the bathroom to collect them.

  We managed to pack what I needed and get back to his house in a reasonable amount of time. And everyone had an enjoyable evening, especially―I believed―Mark and Gina. In a way, it was even more for them than for me. Without them, I never would have made it as far as I had, let alone be going even farther―academically or in any other way. They deserved it.

  And, I finally decided, so did I.

  .Chapter Twenty

  "Mom says I have to get your permission before looking through your clothes."

  Well, that was a first. It took a minute for me to wake up enough to be sure who was talking. It was Melinda.

  I raised myself up on my elbow so I could see her sitting in the chair Will usually occupied on mornings when I was in the guest room. Where was he this morning?

  "And why, pray tell, do you want to look through my clothes?" I asked while attempting to stifle a yawn.

  "Just between us girls, I'm convinced that you don't have the right underwear to go with your new dress. But Mom said I had to talk to you about it first, and I had to do it before we left for the store instead of 'ambushing’ you―can you believe she thinks I ‘ambush’ people?―after we're there."

  "Go ahead." Why not? "Where's Will?" I sat up to better observe what she was doing.

  "He left a while ago. Had to go pick up his tux," Melinda explained as she began going through the dresser drawers. "Didn't want to wait until later in case anything went wrong. You know, in case they didn't get the alterations right or something. Said to tell you good morning and stuff and he'd be back soon." She truly was not the sentimental type. At least, not yet. "He actually bought one, Cassie. Can you believe it? And the shoes and everything. He said he got a good deal on it, and it didn't cost any more than it would to rent one a few times. And, it was kind of weird, but he was saying something about maybe needing it again before too long. Are you two going to prom?"

  "Wild horses couldn't drag me there." But I could think of another upcoming event for which he might wear a tux.

  "Thought so," she muttered to herself and closed the last drawer. "Well, I was right. We're going to have to get you some underwear. Yippee!" She was certainly into clothes. And shopping. And dressing me up. I suppose it was good that one of us was, although I had to admit I didn't feel an aversion to it any more. But I still didn't really know what I was doing, either. "When will you be ready to go?"

  "When will Will be back?" Although I didn't really need him to go with me, I didn't want to go without him. I hope he gets back soon . . . .

  "Are you referring to me?"

  I felt myself smiling. Yes.

  "I'm pulling into the driveway as we speak."

  I giggled. Sometimes your voice tickles me inside.

  "Glad to hear it. Shall I tickle you inside some more, or tickle you outside when I see you?"

  I would love both, but Melinda is talking to me right now.

  "Oops. We mustn't be rude, I suppose. Be there shortly."

  "Are you finished?" Melinda asked, with her arms crossed.

  "Almost." Love you.

  "Love you, too."

  "Now I am. Uh, sorry?" I said, but I was still on the verge of giggling.

  "It was bad enough before the long distance stuff. But now . . . sheesh. You're impossible." In spite of what she said, she was grinning.

  "Thanks," I responded. "You were saying?"

  She came and sat on the foot of the bed. "Underwear. You know, a bra and slip that won't show under your dress―the neckline is different from what you usually wear―matching panties, hose. And what are you going to wear over it? It's going to be cold tonight."

  I hadn't thought of that. I had been wearing the same winter coat for three years now. It was familiar and comfortable, but very … used. "I don't suppose my winter coat would do?" I could hear her answer before she said it―

  "No way! That old thing!" She sat down on the bed and patted my knee reassuringly. "I'm sure we'll be able to find something." It was obvious to me that she already had a "something" in mind.

  "Incoming!" Will came barreling into the room and threw himself on the bed between Melinda and me. Melinda reacted by retreating back to the safety of the chair. I started to respond by unashamedly throwing myself at him. But I remembered. Aren't beds still off limits? I asked him.

  "Oops. Right you are," he replied, and immediately got up to stand by the bed.

  "Minor child in the room!" Melinda quickly pointed out.

  "I noticed," answered Will. "But I haven't said good morning to Cassie yet."

  "Go ahead." Melinda made a show of leaning back in the chair, interlacing her fingers, and putting her hands behind her head as if settling in for the long haul.

  Will's rebuttal was to offer me his hands, pull me off the bed, take me in his arms, and kiss me as he didn't dare do very often―for good reason. His lips moving so fervently against mine instantaneously stimulated an equally passionate response from me. And he knew it. He wanted it. So did I.

  Melinda didn't. "Alright al
ready! Come on, guys. We really do need to get moving if we're going to get Cassie all ready on time. Please?"

  A few seconds later, we parted. "I suppose she's probably right," Will acknowledged. "How long to get ready?"

  "A half hour?" I offered. "If I take time to eat some breakfast."

  He smiled. "Good idea." Then he looked at Melinda. "You're not leaving, are you?" he asked.

  "Nope."

  "Female stuff?"

  "Yup."

  "And you don't want me here?"

  "Nope."

  "I do," I interjected.

  "Thank you for wanting me," he replied, his expression giving more than one meaning to his words. Then he sighed. "But it seems I had better be somewhere else―for the moment." He gave me one more brief kiss, then disappeared. "Let me know the second you're finished?"

  You bet.

  "Okay. Go hop in the shower and I'll get some clothes out for you," Melinda directed as she closed the bedroom door. "And we'll have to take the dress to make sure the other stuff fits right underneath." So, with her able assistance―or, should I say, at her insistence―I was showered and dressed within twenty minutes. Melinda took my new, and only, dress and went downstairs. I checked Will's room, but he wasn't there. So I headed on down, too.

  Will?

  "Hi! All dressed?"

  Yes. Where are you?

  "In the kitchen."

  I was almost there anyway, so I waited to talk to him in person. He was sitting at the table. At the place next to him was a simple breakfast of one fried egg, buttered toast and orange juice. Enough, but not too much, for me. Will got up to seat me in the chair that belonged to it.

  "Thank you," I said as he sat back down next to me. I was impressed―the egg was done, but not overdone; the toast was brown and crisp, but not burned, with just the right amount of butter on it. The orange juice may not have required much preparation, but it was still thoughtful. "You really didn't have to, you know."

  "I know. But I wanted to. And I needed something to do while Melinda monopolized you," he added as he looked at her significantly.

  "Excuse me? Are you trying to say that anyone besides you has even the slightest hope of truly monopolizing Cassie? Ever?" retorted Melinda, who came and sat on my other side at the table.

  He shrugged his shoulders. "Well, when you put it like that . . . ." He paused. "I guess you might have a point."

  "That does happen once in a while, you know."

  "I know." He grinned. "Thanks for all your help, 'Pea."

  "You're welcome, 'Bud," she responded.

  Okay, I had to know. "What is this 'Pea and 'Bud thing?" I asked, then took the last bite of my breakfast and headed to the sink with the dirty dishes―before Will took care of that for me, too.

  Will and Melinda looked at each other and laughed. "Do you want to tell her?" Will asked.

  "You started it."

  He laughed again. "Yes, I did." He spoke to me. "When Melinda was little, Mom and Dad used to call her Sweetpea. At one point―I think it was a few months after you left, so I probably would have been eleven―I was joking around, complaining that I didn't have a nickname. So Dad and Mom and Melinda decided that I should also have a flower nickname: Rosebud. I objected strenuously, and told Melinda if she called me Rosebud, I was going to shorten her nickname to 'Pea―which she didn't like the sound of."

  "But I did it anyway. So he did, too," Melinda interposed.

  "To make a long story short," Will continued as he got up and walked toward me, "we finally reached a compromise. I didn't mind 'Bud―short for Rosebud―so we went with that for me. Oddly enough, Melinda decided she kind of liked the novelty of being called a vegetable, so 'Pea stuck. And that's it."

  "You two are strange," I observed, closing the dishwasher on my breakfast dishes. Will had reached me by now, and put his hands on my waist. I rested my arms on his.

  "But you love us anyway, right?" queried Melinda.

  "Sure do," I answered, getting up on the balls of my feet to better reach Will's lips as he lowered them to kiss me.

  "Okay. Time to go," Melinda abruptly announced, getting up from her seat at the table. "I've got the dress. Where's Mom?"

  "Here," Mrs. Stuart answered from the dining room doorway. "Cassie's right. You two are strange," she commented with a twinkle in her eye as she headed for the garage door.

  "Oh, yeah? And where did we get that from, I wonder?" asked Melinda as she pursued her mother into the garage. Will and I looked at each other, then followed them, laughing softly.

  Since this was a "girls' outing," per Melinda, Mrs. Stuart drove her car and Will sat with me in the back. I took the middle of the three seat belts so he and I could sit closer together. He kept his arm around my shoulders as we drove, occasionally depositing kisses about my head and face. I had his hand in both of mine, bringing it up to my lips to kiss random parts of it from time to time.

  Melinda put down the visor and looked at us in the mirror on the back of it. "Uh, Will?" she began.

  He finished kissing my right temple before looking up at the mirror and answering, "Yes?"

  "I forget―why are you here?"

  "Because Mom gave birth to me."

  There was a low growl, of sorts. "That's not what I meant, Will."

  "What did you mean, Melinda?"

  "Mom?" she whined.

  Mrs. Stuart chuckled. "You don't really need me to intervene, do you, Sweetheart?"

  Another growl. "No." She turned her attention back to Will. "I meant, why are you coming with us to get Cassie's underwear and stuff? You aren't expecting her to model it for you, are you? I mean, you know it doesn't work that way, right?"

  He chuckled. "Yes, I know." He looked at me. "Why am I here, Cassie?" "I was never really invited, you know."

  You have a standing invitation to be with me―any time, anywhere. "For moral support. And because I want to be with you, and you want to be with me," I answered him. "Right?"

  "Right," Will confirmed to me, then turned again to look at Melinda in the mirror. "That alright with you, 'Pea?"

  "I guess so," she responded rather grudgingly. "Just keep the PDA's to a minimum while we're there, okay?"

  Will took his time kissing my forehead before answering. "Okay."

  "Yeah, right," she muttered.

  "Just remember that you're going to be in the same boat one day," suggested Mrs. Stuart.

  "Yeah, but I won't be as oogly-googly as they are," Melinda announced.

  The rest of us laughed out loud. "'Oogly-googly'?" Will managed to ask in mid-laugh. "What's that?"

  Melinda looked directly at him via the mirror. "It should be self-evident, my dear brother. I just made it up. Creative, aren't I?" she concluded, putting the visor back up―undoubtedly to signal the end of the conversation.

  The three of us laughed until Melinda couldn't stand it anymore, and joined in.

  Will chose to be in another part of the store while his mom, Melinda and I selected underwear, etc. We went with black for everything―bra, panties, slip, hose. Seemed simpler to me. And I cooperatively tried on the dress over the relevant clothing to make sure it all fit together properly. Thanks to Mrs. Stuart's good eye and experience, it only took about a half hour for that much.

  I called Will as soon as we were finished with that part, and he joined us for the outerwear and makeup. This is too much money, Will, I told him as his mother and Melinda encouraged me to accept a very dressy, flared from the bust down, lined coat (also black) to wear over my dress, along with a scarf or shawl kind of thing, and a pair of fancy black gloves. When will I ever wear them again? I asked.

  "Oh, I'd be happy to make that happen. Give you more opportunities to wear them, I mean. Mom really wants to do this for you. It's not an imposition at all―financially or in any other way."

  They were pretty. And well-made―they should last a long time. And, truth be told, I was starting to get excited about dressing up for the evening.

  M
rs. Stuart and Melinda were still waiting for my answer. "Well, I'm still concerned that they cost too much. But I really like them. So, yes. Thank you."

  "Hurray!" exclaimed Melinda.

  Mrs. Stuart smiled graciously at me. "Money's not an issue on this, Cassie. Thank you for humoring us." She was thanking me?

  So, only makeup left. Although there was the option of letting one of the salespeople show me how to apply it and touch it up later, I was beginning to feel the effects of the crowded store―not to mention the excitement of the day―and knew that I wouldn’t last a whole lot longer.

  I was going to say something, but Will beat me to it. "Mom, we need to be finishing up," was all he said, but she understood.

  "You have a lovely complexion and great facial structure," she said as she strolled past the first aisles of makeup. "Ah, here we are. Always get hypoallergenic products, Cassie. Avoids all kinds of problems."

  She studied my face for a moment, then had me follow her down the next aisle as she selected foundation, blush and powder to match my skin tone, providing helpful application tips along the way (partly to distract me, I sensed). Then she picked out three shades of eye shadow to go with my coloring and dress. "One to use as a base for your eyelid, the dark one to create depth in the crease, and the light one to use as a highlight under your eyebrow and at the outside corner of the eye," she explained. And, finally, green mascara and a green liner pencil. "These will bring out your eyes quite nicely."

  She asked Melinda to bring the dress while she picked out a shade of lipstick. "The frosted finish looks better on most people than the matte finish, Cassie," she advised, selecting just such a finish in a color that matched the bodice of the dress almost exactly. A coordinated pencil to line my lips, and we were finished.

  Good thing because I was about done in. "Will, could we go on out to the car, please," I asked, my voice shaking slightly.