Muse. Sommer Marsden
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 …
‘You look lovely,’ he said.
She looked down at the cashmere sweater her mother had snagged for her at the clothing swap. Atop black trousers and ankle boots, it made her look a bit dressed up without having to go all out. ‘My mom found it yesterday. It still had the dry-cleaning tags attached so I figured it was safe to wear.’
He touched the sleeve. ‘The colours work great with your skin tone.’
Despite the chilly weather and the cool breeze coming off the water, they’d opted for the deck. A big gust blew and Dani was grateful she’d decided to pull her hair back in a tight French braid. It blew again and her dangle earrings tinkled.
Chris grinned. ‘Human wind chime.’
The waitress, Cari according to the nametag on her sweatshirt, brought them two glasses of wine and two menus. Dani opened it but didn’t even look; she knew she’d be getting the Chicken Chesapeake. ‘So tell me. What would I do?’
He shrugged, glancing out at the water, his face lit by the softening colours of the sky – gold, pink, light blue. ‘You’d come in. I’d introduce you. You’d remove your robe. Then I’d tell you how to pose and then you just stay there. You just … model.’
Her stomach flipped as if something small and anxious lived within. ‘Utterly nude?’
Chris smiled. ‘Utterly nude. Unless the assignment calls for a drape or similar.’
‘How many nights?’
Cari the waitress returned and they ordered, Dani going with her favourite chicken, Chris opting for the surf and turf. A filet done medium rare and a crab cake. He spun his finger in the air over their drinks and smiled at the young woman. ‘And two more.’
Dani noticed that Cari lingered when taking the menu from him, making sure to brush her fingers against Chris’s.
‘I think you have an admirer,’ she teased.
He shook his head. ‘I think you’re imagining things.’
She opened her mouth to argue but he said, ‘And back to your question. I have a class that meets Monday and Wednesday from six to eight. And a Tuesday/Thursday class that meets six forty-five to eight forty-five. The first class are full-on newbies. Green as green can be. Just learning. The other class is a little more advanced. People who took my beginner class in the past and have returned. These particular courses run only three weeks. Four nights per class.’
‘So two hours a night … nude?’
‘Well, I get them set up, we go over class notes, assignments. I deal with questions and all that good stuff. So I’d say most classes you’d be in the buff maybe an hour to an hour