Kitabı oku: «Muse», sayfa 2

Chapter 3

They didn’t get a chance to talk again until the clothing exchange was over. The mothers took over, dragging them along to look at the wares, and Clara kept up a constant chatter, asking Dani a million questions.

When time was called and Dani had packed her chosen items and her mom’s in two separate bags, Chris helped her take the remaining clothes she’d brought that no one had taken and put them in the donation pile by the door. You had a choice: you could take your remaining stuff home or donate to the local clothing drive charity. Dani opted for the second, not wanting to haul the stuff home.

‘Those were some nice clothes,’ he said, eyeing the bags.

‘I’m kind of going for a Feng Shui kind of thing. If I don’t wear it, haven’t worn it in a year, or it doesn’t make me happy, I’m clearing it out. I’d rather they be put to good use.’

Clara and Helen had drifted out to wait in the parking lot, still catching up.

‘Sounds like you know more about yourself than you think,’ Chris said.

‘So tell me!’ she blurted. ‘Tell me what you have in mind. I’m dying to know but with Thelma and Louise hovering we couldn’t talk.’

He chuckled, reached out a hand and brushed a stray piece of hair from her eyes. ‘I told you I teach a night class.’

‘Yes.’ She drew the word out to show her growing impatience. ‘You don’t want me to paint, do you? Because, trust me, I’d be your first failure. I’d make you tear your hair out.’

He shook his head. ‘Nope. I need a model.’

She stood there, unsure of what to do or what to say. ‘A model?’

‘A nude model.’

‘A nude model!’

He pushed his hand over her mouth, laughing. ‘Don’t shout, Dani.’

When she inhaled she could smell the scent of him. It went right to her head like a drug. Chris somehow always managed to smell good. Even in the dreggy, soupy climate of an August in Maryland he’d always smelled good. Nothing had changed.

He looped his arm through hers and tugged her along toward the entrance. But they didn’t go out lest they be set upon by the mothers. That was how Dani was starting to think of them: the mothers. Almost like a horror-movie title. She giggled nervously.

‘Are you insane?’ she hissed by the door as the last of the attendees straggled past.

‘Nope. I’m perfectly sane. Look, you want to do something you’d never do. I need a beautiful model for my students to do a series of poses. It’s perfect. And it pays. You can use the money to restock your closet.’ He winked.

‘I … can’t. I mean … I couldn’t. That would be crazy.’ Her pulse pounded in her throat and she felt like her heart had lodged there.

‘No? See, I think you could.’

‘I …’

‘Just think about it,’ he said. ‘Give me your phone.’

Dani dug it out of her purse and handed it over without comment. He dialled a number and the phone in his pocket rang. He silenced it and then handed hers back.

‘There. Now you’re in my phone and I’m in yours. Just think about it. We can talk if you want. I can explain more.’

‘Christ,’ she said. ‘I’m thirty-two.’

‘You say that like it’s bad,’ he said, shaking his head. Those blue eyes bored into her and she felt naked right then. Was that what it would be like to shed her clothes in front of a bunch of strangers?

‘It’s not young.’

‘It’s not old.’

‘I’m probably not what you’re looking for.’

‘I wouldn’t have asked if that were true. I think not only do you know more about yourself than you think,’ he said, touching her elbow. ‘I think you’re more beautiful than you realise.’

‘Christopher!’

Dani and Chris turned, as if caught misbehaving, to see Clara in the doorway. ‘Let’s go. I told Virginia I’d be there at four. We have to go!’

He rolled his eyes so only Dani could see. Then he leaned in, gave her a quick, warm peck on the cheek and said in her ear. ‘Call me.’

Goosebumps sprang up along her neck from his warm breath and she nodded. It had been her first instinct to turn him down flat, right then, right there. But instead she said nothing. What the hell did that mean? Was she honestly considering standing nude in front of a classroom full of people?

In the car her mother was rummaging through a trash bag of clothing. ‘You should see this sweater I found. Amazing. It’s cashmere.’

‘Goat,’ Dani said, laughing.

‘Don’t be crass.’

‘It is goat!’

‘But cashmere sounds so much nicer, don’t you think?’ Her mother finally located her prize and pulled it out. A medium shade grey sweater with dark-dark red trim at the collar, cuffs and hem.

‘Doesn’t look like something you’d wear,’ Dani said. She turned the car back out onto the main road.

‘It’s not. Good Lord. I got it for you.’ Helen shoved the sweater into her lap as she drove.

‘Thanks for the goat sweater, Mom.’ She tried not to laugh, pressing her lips together in a tight line.

‘Let’s go eat. I’m starving.’

‘Where to?’

‘Bradley’s? I’d like a crab cake. Maybe two. Shopping for bargains makes me hungry.’

‘Too bad you couldn’t find an angora sweater,’ Dani said. ‘Then we’d have goat and rabbit.’ This time she failed to suppress her laughter.

Her mother swatted Dani’s arm. ‘Well, speaking of farm animals, did you see the cow eyes Christopher was giving you?’

Some foreign feeling that Dani couldn’t quite pin down flooded her system. Her ears buzzed slightly and she remembered him brushing that stray wisp of hair back. ‘Mom, Chris and I are just friends. You’re mistaken.’

Her mother snorted. ‘Hardly. I am an expert at spotting a smitten man. Besides,’ she said, rolling down her window just enough to let a little fresh air in, ‘he was madly in love with you in high school. Why should anything change? Clara said he’s single. She worries, you know. All that art, all the drive and fixation. No woman in his life. There was a girl, she said, once, they were together six years or so. She had hopes. Grandbabies, don’t you know. But it fizzled. And then poof!’

‘Poof?’

‘Poof! We run into them today and he’s making cow eyes at you.’

‘What exactly are cow eyes?’ Dani asked. They’d stopped at a red light and her mother took the opportunity to lean in, force her eyes wide and look somehow sorrowful and hopeful at the same time.

Dani barked laughter.

‘Those. Those are cow eyes.’

‘I think I’d remember Christopher looking at me that way. Because I would have run.’

‘Bah,’ said her mother. ‘You’re too wrapped up in denial. You should meet him for a drink,’ she said, helpfully.

‘I might.’ But in her head it was I will. Because I think I’m going to take my clothes off for his class …

* * *

She’d made it through crab cakes with her mother and her monologue about Christopher. Then Dani took her mom home, helped her with her bags and begged off home instead of staying for tea. Her excuse being she had laundry to do for work Monday morning.

It wasn’t a lie. But the solitude and quiet were the most important part. A full-blown introvert, Dani needed to decompress after the crush of people, the two older women, Chris’s proposal and just being around all that energy.

She hauled her bags inside, the cashmere sweater tossed over her shoulder, and dropped the whole shebang down the basement steps. She checked her messages, poured a glass of wine and turned on a cooking show. Something about grilling outside, something she’d never done in her entire life.

Her ironing stood in the corner of her bedroom, beckoning. Usually, she loathed the chore, but it was a necessary evil, at least when it came to work clothes. The doctors she worked for were sticklers about appearance and professionalism. Today, though, it seemed a good thing. She found it, occasionally, to be a Zen kind of activity. A way to clear her head when she was thinking in circles. There wasn’t anything much more straightforward and mundane than ironing. It could be as soothing as it was boring.

She started with her turquoise striped blouse, keeping one eye on the grilling guy on the screen. She abandoned him soon enough, lining up seams, humming, trying to picture herself naked in front of a room full of strangers.

And Christopher, she realised. A small, cool chill shivered up her spine. He’d be there. He’d see her without her clothes. Her old friend, her childhood buddy … that would be … weird.

‘Wouldn’t it, though?’ she mumbled. She caught sight of herself in the large dresser mirror. Standing there behind her ironing board, with a few tendrils of hair coming loose from her knot. Her cheeks were flushed and she looked like a woman who had a secret. Or was about to.

She stepped out from behind the ironing board and removed her boots and socks. After shucking her jeans, she stood there in her grey tunic regarding herself.

‘You’re not nineteen any more,’ she told the woman in the mirror.

But maybe nineteen was overrated. Maybe a thirty-two-year-old single woman who took fairly good care of herself was just fine, thank you very much.

Dani took a breath, pulled the tunic over her head. The heavy silver pendant fell against her chest with a thud. She pulled the periwinkle lace bralette over her head, letting her breasts fall free. Then, without looking at herself, she pushed her panties down and kicked them across the room.

She stood there, staring at herself in the mirror, attempting to see herself as a stranger would. Which was damn impossible, she realised. Impossible to shed her own hangups, worries and criticisms. But she tried.

She struck a pose and then covered her face. Despite being alone she felt the heat in her cheeks. She was blushing. Like an idiot.

Dani squared her shoulders, shook her hair out of its messy knot and fluffed it. Then she stood there, trying to look calm and unassuming as she’d seen nude models do in the movies and on TV. These artists – newbies, unassuming novices, she thought – wouldn’t be painting a pinup model. They’d be painting the nude form in a neutral pose.

She was a bit rounder than she was when she’d run through the woods and gone swimming in the local lake with Chris. Her hips had filled out, flared in a most feminine way. The slight swell of her lower belly seemed ripe and fertile instead of ugly. Her ribs still showed and around them the muscles she’d developed doing God knew how many down-dog poses and planks. Her breasts were still relatively where they belonged. Much fuller and rounder than in her teen years. She smiled, cocked her head. Moved her shoulders so that her collarbone stood out in full relief – the most fetching bone in the entire body, she felt.

‘Not too shabby,’ she whispered.

Her cellphone rang, vibrating in the middle of her bed, and she squealed, covering her breasts as if she’d been caught doing something shameful.

She grabbed it and answered without looking at the caller ID. ‘Hello?’

‘So, have you decided?’ Chris. She could tell just by the way he spoke that he was smiling.

That blush returned in her cheeks as if he could see her here, primping and preening in her mirror while the iron hissed and spat in the corner.

‘I have.’

‘And?’

‘And … I think … yes. But …’

‘But?’

‘But I need to know more. I mean, the details. It will help me decide for certain.’ Her tongue felt too big for her mouth. Her head felt fuzzy and light as if hovering a few feet above her body instead of actually being attached. ‘Can you tell me more?’

‘Sure. Of course. Why don’t we meet for a drink tomorrow? Justin’s on the Water down in Middle River?’

‘What time?’

‘Well, it’s Sunday tomorrow. We could go with the oldster crowd. Early dinner and drinks at threeish?’

‘I’ll be there.’

‘I think it will be good for you,’ he said, his voice deep and comforting.

‘Do you?’

‘I do. An emotional shakeup. Something to make you feel wild and brave and free. Instead of some crazed road trip where you roam the blacktop highways of our great nation, you can just come at night after work and take your clothes off.’

She shook her head. ‘You are so weird, Chris.’

‘Always have been,’ he said. Then he laughed, said goodbye and disconnected.

Dani put on a pair of sweats and a huge Henley that she’d stolen from Bob years before. She pulled her hair into a ponytail and went back to ironing and half listening to the TV grill master. Cinderella back to her scrubbing and mending …