About Last Night

“Drink up, sugarplum,” he muttered, careful not to touch anything as he looked around my apartment wearily, as if being unfashionable was catching.

“What…” are you doing here? “What…” is the time? “What…” is the purple sludge in the glass?

There were so many what questions, so little time.

He leaned against my kitchen counter. “Well.” Then looked down at the counter with wide eyes and thought better of it, straightening and wiping at his t-shirt-covered hip. “I know you would never ask, and after you said you were going out tonight, I thought I’d help you choose an outfit before I went to work.” He smiled graciously, leaned forward, and whispered, “You’re welcome.”

I wasn’t sure if that was sarcasm or not. Hell, I didn’t know if Terry knew if that was sarcasm or not.

I opened my mouth to respond, but my mother always said if you don’t have anything nice to say, zip your lip. He placed his fingers under the glass in my hand and lifted it to my mouth. “Drink. Protein. Good.”

Lifting it to my nose, I sniffed. Then I sipped. It wasn’t bad. I sipped again.

He rounded me and walked toward my bedroom, muttering, “Bedroom this way? Great! Let’s do this.”

Terry made his way through my room, pushing open the curtains. As sunlight streamed in, I fought hissing and hiding under my bed. Then Terry turned. His horrified gasp scared the crap out of me. Now awake, I jumped and yelled a petrified, “What? What?”

He covered his mouth with the fingers of both hands and mumbled, “Oh, honey.” He sounded disappointed. “What is that?”

I glanced around my bedroom and shrugged. “What?”

He pointed firmly to my bed. “That!” He made his point by slowly taking the three steps toward my bed and picking up my floral duvet with his fingertips.

I answered slowly, as if he were asking a trick question. “My comforter.”

He looked down at the retro, old school floral print before asking a mocking, “Are you an eighty-year-old spinster who quilts on the weekends down at the ‘ole community hall?”

Just to peeve him off, I crossed my arms over my chest, careful not to spill my glass of sludge, and replied a defiant, “Yes.”

His eyes narrowed and he looked me up and down before declaring, “You look good for your age, Mia.” Then he turned his face from my bed and stated, “Just…no! We are going to fix that.”

Throwing open my closet, he glanced at the clothes inside then asked, “Where’s the rest?”

I sat on my bed with a sigh, sipping my sludge. “Rest of what, Terry?”

“The clothes, Mia.” He turned slowly, his eyes crazy-like. “Tell me you have more clothes.”

I didn’t have an answer for that, so I didn’t answer. Instead, I sipped my berry protein shake and blinked up at him. Letting out a string of curses, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell. Placing it at his ear, he waited then spoke, “I need to book in an urgent appointment with Eddie.” A pause then he rolled his eyes. “I know she’s booked. Tell her it’s Terry,”—he glanced down at me then whispered into the receiver—“and this is an emergency.” He waited a little while then went over to my desk, writing on the notepaper. “Excellent. Thank you!”

Ripping the paper off the pad, he handed it to me. “Edita is the best. She owes me, so she won’t cost you a dime.” He tilted his head then added, “The clothes, however, will cost you. Big time.”

I held the paper in my hand and asked, “What are you talking about? What clothes? Who is Edita?”

Terry beamed. “Why, honeybuns, Edita is your personal shopper.”

An hour later, a sophisticated woman with a black bob in a gorgeous tan, cream, and caramel patterned dress reached up to pull off her sunglasses. Her gaze lingered on me as she muttered, “This is an emergency.”

I looked down at my jeans and sweater combo. Personally, I didn’t see anything wrong with it. I got my sweater in a bargain bin. It cost me eight dollars, because of a snag in the back. I couldn’t see the snag when I wore it. I was sold!

Unlike some of my peers, I worked through college. Every year, I found something new to do. I went from working in a bakery to serving coffee, checking out groceries, and finally, working in the college library. I had a wad of savings in my bank account. That didn’t mean I wanted to waste it all on clothing.

The woman held her hand out, taking mine without permission. “Edita Warshol. Please call me Eddie. And you’re Mia.” Dropping my hand, she placed her arm through my elbow and dragged me along. “Now that we’re introduced, let’s get going. I only have two hours to spare.”

Two hours?

Surely I didn’t hear that right.

Two freaking hours?

Ugh. I was going to kill Terry.

Eddie dragged me from store to store, and I quickly stated that I was on a budget. Without meaning to be mean—at least, I thought she did—she looked down at me with a smile that said, ‘I can see that’.

I hated to admit it, but after a short while, I was pleasantly surprised with Eddie’s services. She asked me to show her a few items of clothing I would choose for myself, took my style into consideration, and then went to work. She pushed me out of my comfort zone with some items, but when I tried them on, I loved them. She made me buy some new makeup, asking the clerk to show me how to apply them, and three pairs of heels I secretly adored from the moment I saw them, and then took me to get all new lingerie.

As quietly as I could, I warned her I wasn’t into sexy lingerie. I was more into plain and comfortable. But she assured me that plain and comfortable could still be sexy. I was miffed to admit she was right.

Ten pair of panties and five bras later, I walked out of the store with a shy but excited smile. Soon, it was time for Edita to leave, and I was surprised when she stopped to hug me. “Thank you for letting me do what I love, Mia.”

“Thank you for helping me. I never would’ve chosen half of these clothes without your push.”

She beamed. “Music to my ears. Knowing you’re going to look fabulous in them is all I need to feel satisfied with my day’s work.” She glanced at her watch. “I have to go, but it was lovely to meet you. Send my love to Terry.” Then she was gone.

I looked down at all the bags by my feet, carefully picked them up, and then hailed a taxi. There was no way I was getting all this on a bus.

A nap seemed like a good idea at the time, but when I woke, I felt even more tired than when I got home from shopping.

Ella had sent me a text confirming we were still on for tonight. When I told her we were, she immediately responded with a ‘YAY!’ and that she would come pick me up around nine. That was when I fell asleep. I woke at 5:35 p.m. and blinked down at the bags of clothing I just bought.

Slipping out of bed, I sorted my new clothes, folding, placing, and hanging them where necessary. The mix of colors in my closet was new. Wearing black most of the time became a habit when I was bigger. Black was slimming, so I wore it always. Unfortunately, black couldn’t hide forty pounds of extra weight.

Now I had reds, pinks, blues, and greens. It made me happy. I couldn’t wait to wear these things. I even had dresses. I never wore dresses. Tonight, I would wear a dress for experimentation purposes. I wanted to see the reaction of myself in a dress from the opposite sex.

Suddenly excited about my night out, I undressed and walked to the bathroom. I needed to Nair.

At 8:59 p.m. a knock sounded at my door.

I must’ve looked like a newborn calf running over in my heels, but I didn’t care. I threw open the door to find Ella standing there with a bottle of wine in her hands. She looked down at me then shrieked, “Get the fuck out!” She hu

gged me hard. “You look amazing, Mia!”

She wore a long black and white maxi dress that molded to her curves, her curls splaying down her back in a chaotic mess that looked stunning, with bright red pouting lips. Ella was one sexy woman.

The door across the hall opened and Terry spotted me. He gasped then shook his head, looking at Ella. “She does look gorgeous, doesn’t she?” Then he gloated in true Terry fashion. “It was all me. I hired the woman to help her shop, so, yeah.” He blew a kiss to me. “You’re welcome.”

The black dress I had on was lovely. It was a sweetheart cut cocktail dress that came a little too high on my thighs, but when I added the heels, I quickly realized it was beautiful. And I felt beautiful in it.

I had left my hair down, clipped back at one side, lightly applied makeup, and secretly slipped on a new pair of slightly sexy underwear. I was surprised by how great they made me feel. I knew no one could see them, but I knew they were there, and the silkiness of my panties gliding along my dress felt awesome, sensual.

Ella held out her hand, smiling. “You must be Terry.”

He took it, but gaped at me. “You’ve told people about me?”

I grinned. “Of course. You’re one of my two favorite guys.”

He smiled then and it was so tender, so un-Terry like, that my heart warmed. Then he turned. “Hi, Ella, so nice to meet you. I love your hair. It’s wild! Curls are so hot.” He spotted the wine in her hand. “Oh, bubbly. Mind if I have some?” Before Ella could answer, he was already dragging her inside his apartment.

Shaking my head with a smile, I retrieved my purse, locked my apartment, and then joined them just in time to witness Ella fall in love with Bill as I had. Then Bill looked over at me and his smile turned soft. He looked down at my dress and simply uttered a gentle, “Stunning, sweetheart,” before taking my hand and kissing my knuckles. I could have sworn I heard Ella whimper.