“Er, Hello. I’m Anthony. I’m here to apply for the designer position.”
Elly straightened up, her arms still around Snarky Teenager’s shoulders.
“Have you ever slapped someone with a broom?” she demanded.
Anthony looked appalled. “What? Oh, my heavens, no! Why would I do that?”
“Great,” said Elly, “You’re hired.”
CHAPTER
SEVEN
The next two weeks dragged on seemingly forever as Elly waited to hear from Isaac. Luckily, she was distracted at work by Anthony, who had been thrown into training, a true baptism by fire. Elly’s instinctual call had been spot-on, much to her delight. Anthony was upbeat, responsible and above all, dependable. He also was a quick learner and had already started making daily arrangements, as Kim trained him on wedding design. Having a man at the store felt strange, but it also had breathed new life into all the workers there. Anthony fit right in, and Elly’s afternoons were filled with the shrieks of hysterical laughter as he regaled the girls with stories of his past adventures. There was a buzz at Posies, and Elly fell in love with her store and her workers all over again.
When Elly arrived home on Friday night, after a beautiful Victorianthemed wedding, her feet were tired but her heart light. She padded up the stairs, groceries in hand and shrieked out loud. There was a familiar red-inked note on the door. She had a hard time lifting her arm out to reach the note while holding the grocery bags, so she dropped them by her feet (forgetting about her eggs) and tore the envelope open.
Elly, it read in his signature sexy scrawl, Some friends of mine are playing at a jazz club tomorrow night. Will you be my date? Wear something beautiful. Isaac.
Elly felt the stairway spin around her, every inch of her skin tingling. Date. He said date. Not friendly gathering, not hanging out, not occupying the same space, A DATE. She laughed and unlocked the door, where Cadbury greeted her with a wet tongue over her flip flops. Elly practically leapt for the phone.
That night, as Elly sipped white zinfandel on her rooftop patio, she stared up at the inky black sky and considered what this meant. She really liked Isaac. She didn’t know him very well, granted, but the spark was there. She could do this, right? Elly hadn’t been in a relationship since Aaron. After he had shattered her heart into a million tiny pieces, she couldn’t bear the thought of anyone touching her. Love was out of the question – a vague and painful idea made of broken illusions. The things that Elly had held so dear were made a mockery, and she was sure she would never again be at the beginning of something so magical. Elly hadn’t been sure who she was without Aaron. But she knew now. And when Isaac had smiled down at her from her doorway, she felt her heart unfolding, layer by layer, at the idea of him.
Elly finished her glass and leaned back on the soft weathered fabric. She let the cool breeze circle around her bare arms and watched her wine swirl around the glass. A date, she mused, her hand lingering on Cadbury’s soft fur. She hadn’t been on a date in about five years. Even then, she had very little dating experience. Aaron hadn’t courted her – no, he swept her off her feet and claimed her as his own. There had been very few dates to speak of.
What does one wear to a jazz club? she wondered. Should I eat first or later? Would there be kissing? Would he touch my stomach?
Elly was starting to hyperventilate. She took a sip of her wine to calm her nerves. She forced herself to focus on something else. Isaac’s eyes. Those deep brown cosmos, so much like hot chocolate… That was the last thing she remembered thinking as she drifted off to sleep there, on top of her roof, the bright stars above becoming bursts of light beneath her eyelids.
The next morning, after a panicked phone call to Kim, Elly stood in front of Figure, a popular plus-sized women’s store, waiting for Kim to arrive. She was now 20 minutes late, and Elly was both annoyed and warm. Her hair was frizzed out and she was seriously craving a crepe. She heard heels approaching and turned around with a smile on her face. It didn’t last. Snarky Teenager stood in front of her, shopping bags in one hand and her cell phone in the other.
“Oh hey” she mouthed, “Hold on.”
She was wearing what looked like a swimsuit cover-up and bright lemon heels. Elly raised her arms up in confusion.
“Okay. Okay. I know. No, there is NO WAY I am wearing a simple black dress. It’s demeaning. Whatever.” She hung up the phone. “Hey. Sorry.”
There was an awkward pause. “Umm…what are you doing here?”
“Kim called me. She couldn’t come. Something came up. She said you needed help finding a dress for your date?”
Elly hoped that somewhere today a bird pooped on Kim’s head.
“That’s very nice of you to come – I can’t believe Kim called you – but I should be fine.”
Snarky Teenager arched one perfect eyebrow.
“No, you won’t be. You totally dress like my grandma.”
Elly’s jaw dropped. “I’m your boss, you know. You can’t say stuff like that to me.”
Her young ingénue smiled. “Yes, I can. I mean like, whatever. Today is my day off. It’s all honesty from here on out.”
Elly sighed. This was going to be very painful.
“Okay – I’m going to kill Kim – but I could maybe use an extra eye. Here are the rules: You are not allowed to say the word ‘fat’ at any time, at any place. Also, I am not buying any sexy underwear. I’m not that kind of girl.”
“That’s fine,” Snarky Teenager replied. “I’m not even wearing underwear.”
And on that note, they entered Figure.
They were greeted by two curvy mannequins that were complete with large breasts and thighs and even little love handles. Elly wanted to hug them.
“Oh my God, how weird,” hissed Snarky Teenager, “They are, like, fat …” She trailed off as Elly shot her a death look.
“Fat-tastic!” she finished.
They ventured farther into the store. So many beautiful fabrics surrounded them. Plum blouses dripping with sequins, apple red halters, sleek navy dresses, earrings and belts and shoes and bras…all in sizes that could fit Elly. No praying, squeezing, tears or ripped zippers. There would be no crushing sense of just how round she was. Here, she was the smallest size on the rack, and that was a good feeling. She threw a couple of blouses and pairs of pants over her arm. Snarky Teenager reached for a lacy corset top. Elly slapped her hand.
“No way. Don’t even think about it. I want something classy, flattering and just a tiny bit sexy.”
“Okay,” said Snarky Teenager. “So, where are you going, anyway?”
“A jazz club.”
The sneer on Snarky Teenager’s lips showed that she could not think of anything more laughable, and she stalked off in the directions of the formals. Elly hated her life at this moment. She loathed clothing shopping. Candles, furniture, flowers – she didn’t mind picking out nice things for her place – but anything that required looking in a mirror that showed her from behind was the equivalent of dropping a hair dryer in the bathtub while bathing.
She heard a murmured “What the…?” and turned to see Snarky Teenager marveling at the size of a pair of pants. They were literally twice the width of her body. A small, round saleswoman approached her timidly.
“Miss, can I help you?”
Snarky Teenager spun around.
“Oh, I’m helping my friend.” She gestured in Elly’s direction. “She needs a dress for a date, and I guess she doesn’t fit into the clothes at, like, a normal store, so she’s shopping here.”
The woman looked ready to strangle her, so Elly jumped in.
“Sorry, sorry, my…uh, my niece is just helping me.”
The woman gave her a strained smile, glancing at her “niece,” who was trying to see if she could make a plus-sized tube top into a mini-skirt.
“Good luck, ma’am.”
Elly was mortified. “I’m going into the dressing room now.”
Snarky Teenager piped in. “
I’ll be right in. This tube top as a skirt is SUPER fly.”
Hiding her face behind her clothes, Elly walked quickly to the fitting room, a well- lit room with an elegant chandelier and leather bench. She quickly shed her clothes and tried on the first dress, a dark Cerulean frock the color of island water. It looked awful. Not only did it emphasize her short calves, but it made her breasts look like two bowling balls, struggling to be held aloft by straining fabric. The next dress, a bit slinkier, made her resemble a circus tent. She moved on to pants. After two failed attempts, she found a pair of black knee length pants and a light green sleeveless top with beading around the neck.
Maybe with some black sandals…
Her dressing room door wrenched open. “What the HELL are you wearing?” shrieked Snarky Teenager. “You look like a depressed social worker. Take that off, right now!” Elly stared at her, but didn’t move. “What are you waiting for? I brought these dresses.”
Elly crossed her arms. “I am NOT getting undressed in front of you. Get out.”
“I don’t care what you look like naked – I’m naked all the time.”
“Yes,” agreed Elly, “We know. Even when you are dressed you are naked.”
“Fine, I’ll turn around. Just put this on.” She tossed a dress, all poof, in Elly’s direction.
“I will look like a cupcake in this, just so you know.”
“Probably!” was the reply.
Elly slid the dress over her shoulders, turning to the mirror with an exaggerated sigh. To her amazement. She did not look like a cupcake. She was…pretty.
“Wow,” she whispered.
The dress was light and lovely, with black netting over rich mulberry fabric. The scoop neck top was covered in silk cream rosettes with a pale pink ribbon at the waist. It hugged her curves while at the same time making her look at least ten pounds thinner. Elly tucked her hair behind her ear shyly. She looked good. No. She looked great.
“I love this dress,” she stammered.
Snarky Teenager looked up from her phone, where she’d been furiously texting.
“Yeah. You look hot. That’s definitely the one. Make sure that you don’t wear your granny panties and get a decent pair of heels.”
Elly ignored her and pulled her clothes back on. She almost hated taking the dress off.
“Hey, um, thanks for coming with me,” she offered softly.
“Well, someone had to stop you from dressing yourself.”
That was a sweet moment, thought Elly as she drove home, the dress sitting on the seat beside her. She was still bothered that Kim had canceled on her –it was uncharacteristic of her – but the shopping trip had been surprisingly successful.
Two hours, one razor and two bloody band-aids later, Elly assessed herself in the mirror as she waited for Isaac to pick her up. Her blond curls – normally frizzy and thick – had been tamed into delicate tendrils that bounced when she walked. Her bright blue eyes stood out against a smoky granite shadow and her full lips looked pouty and moist. She could barely walk in her strappy heels, but it didn’t matter. Anything that made her look longer rather than rounder was a plus. Cadbury whined at her feet, sensing that Elly was about to do something out of their ordinary routine. She bent down and rubbed his head softly.
“I’ll be home late tonight. I know you’ll leave me a special little present for being gone, so try not to get it on the carpet,” she whispered to him.
Cadbury grunted as the doorbell rang. Elly quickly ran Cadbury into her bedroom and shut the door, ignoring his frantic barks. So much for a romantic start to the evening, she thought, as she opened the front door amidst a cacophony of dog protests.
Isaac stood in front of her and she watched with fascination as his lips turned up in a smile.
“Hey – are you ready?”
She noted his worn t-shirt and jeans.
“Yes, I’m ready.” She looked down at her dress. “I’m overdressed.”
“No” he said, “It’s a pretty nice place. I’m just a bum.”
He grabbed her hand, and Elly was unable to breathe.
“I think we might be already late,” he said, pulling her down the stairs.
Elly emerged into the afternoon sun and noticed Keith watering the flowers in front of both their buildings. As Isaac half-nodded in Keith’s direction, Keith gave Elly a friendly whistle.
“Wow, look at that dress!” Elly smiled at him. “Yeah, it’s nice. Thanks for watering my flowers.”
Keith eyed her. “Be good tonight!”
Elly laughed. “Thanks, see you later!” Isaac led her down the street to the parking area, towards a very sleek black Honda.
“Nice car,” said Elly.
“Its okay…I guess. It feels corporate to me.”
He left her by the side of the car and walked around to the other side. Elly stood awkwardly as he unlocked the door. Okay, try to not to flash anybody, she thought, as she clumsily ducked under the door.
Isaac’s car was incredibly messy. The back seat was cluttered with sheet music, empty plastic containers showing the remnants of some sort of vinegar salad from Groves, the world’s most expensive grocery store, assorted clothing, CDs and dirty used tissues.
Gross, thought Elly and forced her eyes to the front. She turned to Isaac.
“I’ve never been to a jazz club before. I’m kind of excited.”
Isaac raised an eyebrow at her and her heart went all tilt-a-whirl.
“It’s great for the senses. You have the smoke filling your lungs, sweet from cigars and tobacco, the hazy light of the stage, the wine on your tongue…” He lingered on the word tongue. “And then the music. The guy we’re seeing tonight, Jack Shepland, is a genius. Pure, unfiltered genius.” He leaned forward in his seat excitedly. “The things that he does with music are absolutely inspiring. He takes the erratic rhythms and turns them into something so intrusive you don’t even know that you felt that way until you heard these notes. Man, he awakens me.”
Elly really liked the way Isaac gripped the wheel, the way his mouth moved when he spoke and how his hair fell over his left eye. His words fell like rain around her, drenching her, and moving on without her consent. He talked of Jack and musicians with single syllable first names… Joe, Miles, Kay, Huck…all the way to the club, which was simply called Blues.
Blues was located in University City, in an area known as The Loop. It was a young, fresh college area filled with chic furniture galleries, indie movie theaters, contemporary art galleries and homeless people. It was a town of opposites, one that was filled with as many head shops as expensive eateries. Elly rarely ventured here, for it reminded her that she was completely un-hip and she feared getting mugged by one of the many shady individuals on the street. The Loop made her feel both boorish and scared at the same time. Isaac, however, fit in perfectly. He expertly parallel parked – a skill Elly envied – and was still feeding money into the meter when he was approached by some unabashedly cool people and they proceeded to talk in indie jargon that she could barely follow. Elly stood awkwardly beside him, clutching her straw purse with both hands and tottering on her thin heels. Isaac talked for a few minutes before introducing her.
“Hey, this is Elly. She owns a flower shop by my place.” He slipped his hand around her waist. Elly almost fainted. Isaac waved his hand at the group.
“Well, we better head inside before we miss our seats. I mean, I guess we could stand…”
No standing, thought Elly, please no standing. The thought of standing for the next three hours on her tottering heels was terrifying. Elly could barely stand now as it was.
“Hey, it was nice seeing you guys!” said Isaac and there were handshakes all around. Isaac, so cool and confident in every step, led her into the club, effortlessly shaking the line and the bouncer.
The club was dark and intimate, with deep wood walls making an elegant half-circle. A long iron railing that wrapped between the tables was covered with burning candles, and the overhead lig
hting cast a burgundy glow over the entire place. Elly thought that she had never been to a place that was so unabashedly sensual. As Isaac led them to their table, Elly stumbled into the corner of the bar.
“Ouch!” she winced. “It’s so dark in here!”
Isaac put his mouth against her hair, “It’s a shame. You’re gorgeous tonight.”
Gorgeous Tonight! Gorgeous Tonight! her heart sang back. Their reserved table was up front, near the stage. Isaac sat down and quickly hailed the waiter, while Elly situated herself in her dress.
“Two Scotch on the rocks,” Isaac told the waiter. He turned to Elly. “You can’t listen to jazz and not drink scotch. It would be a crime.”
Elly nodded furiously. The waiter brought over their drinks. Isaac smiled at her and raised his glass.
“To love and freedom and art.”
Elly raised her glass as the music began. She took a long drink, tasting all too late what was in her mouth. She gagged and grabbed for her water, her eyes filling with tears. It burned, dear God, it burned! Once her vision cleared, she saw Isaac laughing.
“You must have never had scotch before,” he mused.
Elly gasped, “I can’t imagine why anyone EVER would have scotch. This tastes like turpentine!”
Isaac grabbed her hand in his, while she coughed into her other. “It’s an acquired taste, not unlike myself. Have I mentioned that you amuse me greatly?” he murmured.
The night went on, and was truly wondrous. Elly felt the music vibrate over her in pulses, every fiber of her body attuned to each smile and head nod that Isaac directed her way. They were so close to the stage that conversation was impossible once the music started, but it didn’t matter. There was an undeniable connection, and every time Elly turned to marvel over his incredible features, she caught him staring at her. They stayed for the opening act, Jack Shepland, and then the closing band.
It was 1:30 am when they left the club and Isaac suggested pancakes. Elly had never been more tempted to kiss him. Over mounds of dripping amber syrup and ripe blueberries, Isaac and Elly talked of Clayton and all its intricacies. Isaac seemed to know the town very well, and told her about dozens of hidden gems throughout the city. Elly was sure she had never had such a good conversation while at the same time keeping so much unsaid.
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