Body Chemistry

by Dara Girard

  But then again, what was wrong with her clothes? She had her system down. During graduate school, she had been introduced to a tailor who made her custom clothing. Brenda wore primarily black or white, with only a few gray or dark blue items, so that she never had to worry about matching.

  Besides, she had spent over ten years working in laboratories wearing a white lab coat. Clothing was not a priority for her. Aside from limiting herself to basic colors, Brenda had no idea of how to select styles that fit her shape. She left that job up to her tailor, and he had done a great job.

  Brenda read the instructions again, then shrugged. She could do this. What was there to lose? Flash her membership card and get some new clothes, which she would make sure matched her color scheme. How hard could that be?

  Several days later Brenda stood in the large warehouse-like atmosphere of Big and Beautiful, where mannequins loomed large and clothing hung at eye level. She glanced around and found the Customer Service counter. A striking, tall woman stood there looking bored. When she saw Brenda approaching she perked up and smiled. “How can I help you?”

  “I believe I’m suppose to show you this.” She held out the card.

  The woman took the card, then grabbed a pair of scissors.

  “Wait. What are you doing?”

  “Making sure this is the real thing. Some women have tried to make copies. Don’t worry, if it’s real, it will pass the test.”

  She conducted her test, nodded then replaced the scissors. She handed it back to Brenda. “I notice you don’t wear heels.”

  “They’re not comfortable. Besides—”

  “You don’t like towering over people I bet. You’ll get over that.” She snapped her fingers and an older woman rushed up to them. “Take Dr. Everton to the lounge,” she said enunciating the word.

  “Yes, yes. Follow me. I’m Mrs. Gilbert.”

  “I’m Brenda.”

  “Glad to meet you.”

  Mrs. Gilbert led Brenda to an elevator. Once the doors closed she punched several numbers into the keypad and the elevator descended. When it eventually opened, Mrs. Gilbert led her down a small corridor, then stopped in front of a dark red door. She knocked, said “Goodbye,” then hurried away. Seconds later the door opened and a woman around Brenda’s age, with olive-toned skin, and sharp, pointy features, popped her head out. “What are you doing down here?”

  “Someone, I mean Mrs. Gilbert brought me down here.”

  The lady remained partially hidden behind the door. “Do you have identification?”

  “I have my driver’s license.”

  “That’s not what I mean. Something that you showed to them up there.” She pointed up. “That had someone lead you down here.” She pointed down.

  “Oh, you mean this?” Brenda handed the woman her card.

  “Yes.” She inspected it, then said, “That silly woman, she’s supposed to take you to the lounge. She’s going to get fired.”

  “She seems sincere,” Brenda said, not wanting to be responsible for Mrs. Gilbert losing her job.

  “That’s not good enough.” The woman turned and said something to someone inside, then looked at Brenda. “I’m Marci Jacobs. Follow me.”

  Brenda tried to hide her surprise when the woman emerged. Her protruding belly made it out of the door before the rest of her. She caught Brenda’s look and proudly patted her stomach. “Enormous, isn’t it? His father’s really tall, so it’s expected. I’m not even due for another three months. I wonder what I’ll look like then?”

  Brenda wasn’t sure whether to offer her pity or congratulations. “You must be happy.”

  “We’re thrilled. I never thought this would happen to me.”

  Brenda made a noncommittal sound, then changed the subject. “Are you part of this Society thing?”

  “It’s not a thing and no, I’m not a member, but I am an associate and I take my responsibilities seriously.”

  “How can you be an associate and not a member?”

  “Easy. The process of selection is the same. I just don’t get certain privileges.”

  “And that doesn’t bother you?”

  “No. This Society has helped a lot of women and I’m proud to be a part of it.”

  “But does it really need all this secrecy? I mean it seems a bit overdone for just getting a bunch of clothes and meeting a guy.”

  Marci stopped walking and turned, looking directly into Brenda’s eyes. In one moment she switched from looking like Mother Earth to a Warrior Woman. “This Society is very serious and if you just want to see it as a bunch of clothes and makeup, and meeting some guy, then I suggest I take you back upstairs right now.”

  Brenda opened her mouth to protest, but Marci continued. “This club is for women who want to change their lives, who have the courage to do what they have to, to find the love they want. There’s power in being a member of The Black Stockings Society. That’s why you can’t tell anyone.” She turned and continued walking.

  “When invitations are sent out how does the Society know that the women selected will keep it a secret?”

  “We have spies.” She smiled. “We know more about you than you think Dr. Everton.”

  “Can someone find out why they were chosen or who nominated them?”

  “No, that’s immaterial. You were selected, just accept that and follow the instructions. Women, such as yourself, are selected based on very strict criteria.”

  Finally Marci stopped in front of a green door and keyed in a number. Brenda briefly wondered if she had dropped into Alice’s Wonderland with all the different colored doors. The door opened. Marci flipped on the lights, revealing a large number of racks with an array of clothing items and accessories.

  Brenda looked at them with mild panic. “Where’s the black?”

  “There’s no black and no white here. You will be wearing color from now on.” Marci could see and feel Brenda’s anxiety. “Don’t worry. The items that have been selected for you will complement your existing wardrobe. We consulted with Mr. Anthony, your tailor, to help with our selection. Matching the items won’t be difficult; your new pieces will all be interchangeable. He also informed us that you’re used to having your clothes delivered so we will also continue that service for you.”

  “I see,” Brenda said, unconvinced.

  “No, you don’t, but you will.” Marci walked around Brenda, looking her up and down. “You have beautiful hair. Do you ever wear it down?”

  “Rarely. Except in a ponytail. It’s so dry and fly-away.”

  “I’ll show you how to control it by wearing broad, classy headbands. You need to let your hair out, especially on weekends, for a different look.”

  Brenda touched a purple blouse. “I don’t think this color looks good on me.”

  “Don’t worry, it will work.”

  “I think I need shorter sleeves.”

  “No, you don’t. I have selected every item you see here and trust me, they work for your build and body shape.”

  After hours of trying on several of Marci’s selections Brenda still hadn’t been reassured, and did not trust Marci’s judgment with some of the items. However, if wearing an assortment of colors would help her find her ideal man, she was willing to do whatever it took.

  Brenda took copious notes. She did not want to forget anything. She detailed each item Marci selected, including specific instructions for which accessories she should wear with each outfit.

  “This fitted long-sleeved turquoise blouse will be able to go with many items in your wardrobe,” Marci said, with a heavy sigh as she watched Brenda’s hand race across her notepad.

  “Which ones exactly?” Brenda asked.

  “Any. You can’t go wrong. Remember your basic colors are black and white.”

  “I know that,” she said with impatience. “But that particular shade of turquoise appears to be too subdued to wear with something black, and definitely too loud to wear with anything white. And—”

  “T
hat’s enough!”

  Brenda held out her hands, sending a worried glance to Marci’s stomach. “Don’t excite yourself.”

  “I’m not going to go into labor, although it’s possible, because you’re driving me crazy. I have been doing this for years and never in my life have I met someone like you.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “The notes, the questions. They’re just clothes. So what if one day you don’t match?”

  “I’m a professional. How I conduct myself is very important. I don’t want to come across as some, some…” Brenda tried hard but couldn’t find the word.

  Marci didn’t give her time to find it. “Top business people have been known to wear two types of shoes to work, or have gone to the office with their trouser leg stuck in their sock. It’s not the end of the world. Lighten up. You’re too hard on yourself.”

  “But—”

  “New rule. No more questions. You have to trust me.”

  Marci walked to one of the clothing racks near by and pulled out an outfit. “This is what you will wear on your first date.”

  “My what?” Brenda asked, barely able to register what Marci had said and what she was holding up.

  “Date. You’re going on one shortly. For dinner. You’ll wear your first pair of stockings, the seamed black stockings with a sequined rose embossed on the ankle and this.” Brenda looked at the red two-piece tailored suit.

  “You have to be kidding. I’d never—”

  Marci narrowed her gaze. “Trust me.”

  Brenda bit her lip. She never wore the color red. Her mother constantly reminded her that red was too loud a color for a woman her age. And whenever she wore a suit, it was always a pantsuit. With her height, her mother had repeatedly pointed out when she was growing up that her long skinny legs looked like corn stalks.

  “It’s you,” Marci said, not giving her a moment to respond. “We’ll ship everything to you. Good luck.” Marci opened her arms for a hug.

  Brenda hesitated, wondering how she was supposed to maneuver herself around Marci’s stomach, and she didn’t feel comfortable giving her a hug straight on.

  Marci tilted her head to the side and let her arms fall. “I make you uncomfortable, don’t I?”

  Brenda felt her face grow hot. “No, it’s not—”

  “This Society isn’t about wives and mothers if that’s what’s worrying you. We’re not giving you clothes and accessories just so you can get a man. The time we’ve spent selecting these items was done with a great deal of thought. For a real change to happen in your life you need to get in touch with you and what you want. You joined the Society because you want a man in your life, right?”

  Brenda started to respond, offended by Marci’s description of her as some desperate single, but Marci continued. “There’s nothing wrong with expressing that desire. It doesn’t make you weak.” Marci walked Brenda to the door. “It took me a while to learn that lesson. You’ve spent your life fighting so much for everything that you’ve denied yourself many of life’s pleasures. It’s time you stopped fighting and started making love. It’s a lot more fun.” She winked.

  Brenda laughed, feeling more relaxed than before. She hugged Marci, glad she understood. “Thanks.”

  “Don’t leave yet. We’re not done with you.” She handed Brenda a card, and told her she had an appointment at the hair salon behind another door.

  With the help of a petite, energetic stylist and beauty consultant, Brenda learned about taking care of her skin, how to apply makeup for a natural look and had her hair done. She emerged wearing her hair in a smooth style that went past her shoulders.

  “Wow, is that me?” Her hair felt soft to the touch and for the first time, in a long time, looked healthy and tamed!

  “Don’t forget, moisture is very important for your hair, and your hair is delicate. Just because it’s thick doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be gentle with it.”

  At the end of the hair and makeup sessions, Brenda received a full body massage, manicure and pedicure.

  “How much do I owe?” she asked the stylist, as she prepared to exit.

  “It’s all part of the membership. We’ll send you six months’ supply of beauty products. They’ll come with your clothes when they are delivered. Enjoy the rest of the day.”

  Brenda wanted to share her new look with Marci, but she’d left for lunch. Disappointed, Brenda followed Mrs. Gilbert back upstairs and left.

  The clothes and other items arrived at her house that evening and Brenda immediately put them away. Although clothes didn’t interest her, she kept her closet organized. She took time to put the colorful items such as scarves, belts, sweaters and shoes in close proximity to the appropriate black and white items.

  Once finished, Brenda made some soup, then flopped down on her couch. She grabbed the remote and turned on the TV. She began flipping channels, and there he was: Dominic. It was a rerun of one of his early documentaries. If you need anything just call me. She thought of the Society and a chance at a new beginning.

  Yes, she needed something and she definitely knew whom to call.

  Chapter 5

  She shouldn’t have tried to hide from him, Dominic thought. He sat at his desk with his feet on the table absently listening to Natalie give him his messages and remembering the funeral. No, Brenda shouldn’t have tried to hide from him. He would have left her alone otherwise, but that one action had put his predatory instincts in overdrive. If she wanted to hide, he was going to seek. And it surprised him how glad he was to find her.

  He toyed with the yo-yo in his hand, amazed at his response to her. She was a little older and cooler, but she still made his blood run hot. Nothing had changed those deep brown eyes, smooth skin and body, which still suited him perfectly. He hadn’t held her only to comfort her; he liked having her in his arms again.

  He swore. He should have gotten over her by now. It had been three years. He’d given up hope that she’d ever come back to him and he definitely wouldn’t beg.

  “Dr. Ayers?” Natalie said.

  “Yes?”

  “You haven’t answered my last question.”

  He watched the yo-yo go up and down. “What is it?”

  “The Board wants to know if you’ll speak at the unveiling of the pavilion at Children’s Hospital next Saturday.”

  “Sure.” The yo-yo went up.

  “You have a two o’clock appointment with Dr. Haag the marine biologist from Sweden, who is in town for a conference.”

  “Okay.” The yo-yo went down.

  “Brenda Everton asked that you return her call.”

  “Fine.”

  “Your accountant needs to schedule a time when you and he can meet, or at least talk over the phone.”

  “Okay.” He paused, then his feet crashed to the floor and he sat up. “What did you say?”

  “That your accountant needs…”

  He waved his hands impatiently, pulling the yo-yo from his finger and letting it clatter on his desk. “No, before that.”

  She glanced at her notes. “That Brenda Everton asked that you return her call.”

  “Yes.” He wiggled impatient fingers. “Please give me that message.” He took it from her and stared at the note. “Yes, I heard right,” he said with wonder. “You said Brenda Everton.”

  “Is there a problem?”

  “No, at least I don’t know. What did she sound like?”

  “I’m not sure. She was very direct.”

  “Not depressed?”

  “No, very controlled.”

  He nodded relieved. “Yep, that’s my Brenda.”

  Natalie looked at him both curious and intrigued. “I could handle this for you if she’s a bother.”

  He shook his head then looked up at Natalie and grinned at her concerned expression. “I’ve been wanting this woman to bother me for three years.”

  “Would you like me to read your other messages?”

  “Um…no. Just leave them.” S
he placed them on the table, then left. Dominic slowly sank back in his seat. What did Brenda want? What was she up to? He picked up his yo-yo. He had to approach her with the right strategy. What should he say? Heard that you called? What’s wrong? What do you want? He’d follow her cues, if she was cool, he’d be cooler.

  Dominic lifted the phone receiver and began to dial.

  Natalie rushed into the room. “Dr. Ayers?”

  “I’m on the phone,” he snapped.

  “I know, but it’s an emergency. I have Mr. Woods from Science In The News on the line.”

  “Can’t you take a message?”

  “He said it’s urgent. One of the hosts for this evening’s live TV broadcast had a terrible accident, and he needs a replacement immediately.”

  Damn, he’d have to fly out immediately if he was going to do it. Richard Woods was a very good friend of his and wouldn’t have called him if he didn’t have to.

  Dominic swore and slammed down the phone.

  “They said the host will be all right and you’ll be compensated handsomely,” Natalie said quickly, misinterpreting his anger.

  “Fine.” He stood and grabbed his things. Brenda would have to wait.

  Three days. She’d been waiting for a response from Dominic for three days. Brenda sat in her living room, fuming. Nothing. Not a phone call, not an e-mail. Not even sky writing. No reply. Call me if you need anything. She’d been foolish to believe him. Each day was a reminder of why Dominic was her ex-husband. He was always busy. Why would this time be any different? She was probably at the bottom of his list of priorities. She’d been so preoccupied, she hadn’t tried on any of her new outfits and went to work dressed as usual. Once the ordeal was over regarding where to find funding, she would start wearing them, but presently she was too angry.

  The phone rang.