Muse. Sommer Marsden

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      ‘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,

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