in the mirror.
“Hah!” she said, satisfied. “It’s much better!”
She noticed that her color of choice showed her as less the innocent one and more the sexy young woman. It affected her likewise.
When she turned, she resembled a magic lizard. She was a goddess, but a goddess of lust. She loosened her hair and the gold mane made her look like a Nereid or mermaid.
She twirled and pirouetted enjoying the feel of her wonderful frock, so smooth and swishy against her body, so complimentary to her figure, so reflective of her joie de vivre as a young woman in love with a rich powerful sweet man like Robert. She was flushed, blushing and extremely sensitive when she finally took a breather.
“Wow!” Mary enjoyed the result of her experiment. “Watch out, party! Here I come!”
Keeping her eyes on her reflection, she took the phone, and dialed the number.
“Yes?” She heard Robert’s reserved voice and hazarded a guess.
“Are you busy?” Mary closed her eyes, desperate for her instincts to be completely wrong.
“I’m in the middle of a conference,” he answered. “Is everything all right?”
“Yes, sorry! Take care!” Mary quickly hang up, disappointed not to be able to share her excitement.
***
In the accessories store another wonder was waiting for Mary.
This time she surprised herself.
She could not choose the pumps! She liked them all. Never in her life had she experienced the choice of such fabulous footwear; so comfortable, light and soft!
“I can’t even feel them,” Mary mumbled, trying on the next pair. “My Goodness! It’s like I’m barefoot! I bet I could even prance wearing them! But which ones should I take? I’m not a centipede, for God’s sake!”
The pile of the shoes on the floor became bigger, and bigger. Mary wanted to cry.
“You can take a few pairs,” the worker finally offered.
This phrase sobered Mary up. Ashamed and amazed about herself, she chose the three pairs that she liked the most, and left the store.
***
As Farther Frank requested, Mary went to his office, and over the course of two hours, they discussed and browsed the orphanage’s promotional material.
Mary took a pack of brochures, and leafed through them. She adored the design.
The second page made her smile. There was an article about Noirson’s Corporation, and hot wave of excitement washed her all over when she saw the photo of her beloved Robert.
But then, with her heart in her mouth, she carefully read, and re-read a section of text.
Frowning, Mary pointed her slender well-manicured finger at a line that had grabbed her attention for rather less warming reasons than she expected from studying a brochure about good works in the community. She addressed the priest. “Look, Father.”
Frank obliged and read out loud; “I, the LORD, do all these things. Isaiah 45:7. So, Mary, what’s your point?”
“Out of context this phrase sounds as if Mister Noirson is the Lord, and it is his Corporation that the rules the world!”
Father Frank was surprised with her words.
“Mary, you did study marketing, didn’t you? The designer just abbreviated the passage to save some place. They pay by the word, you know, and every penny counts!”
He frowned at the irony of his words, picturing the sorry state of affairs with the orphanage budget. He continued, “And, anyway, it sounds okay to me.”
“Read it again,” insisted Mary. Frank sighed, shook his head and repeated it slowly. He looked at her again. “Mary, when I read it, I do not detect any connection between Mister Noirson…” He paused, and added, unable to hold back a smile. “However, I do understand why you did.”
Mary blushed, ashamed, Oh My God, is my crush on Robert so noticeable?
She grabbed a mouse-pad with combined logos of Noirson’s Corporation and her team, and subtly used it as a fan to try and disperse the warm feelings that had made her mouth dry and her fingers tingle.
Making a complete hash of staying cool after Father Frank’s throwaway comment, she stuttered, “Nice work!” and treated the mat like an antique dealer would a delicate Etruscan vase, studying it all over, practically holding it up to the light. “Who designed this?”
The priest was enchanted by her naive reaction.
Not all the youth of today have lost their innocence, he mused. “You probably know this girl. Last month she won the award in the art contest for the best sports sketch.”
“Oh, yes!” Mary beamed. “Sure, I know her! She’s a gifted girl all right. We should send her to design classes.”
“I don’t know,” Father Frank drawled, thinking. “I’m not sure we have that sort of spare money on hand at the moment.”
Drawing on another aspect of her charm, a quiet but clever line in persuasion, Mary persisted, “Father, you paid for my management training. Isn’t that investment paying off?”
“Yes, my child, of course it is. We are a non-profit organization with limited resources, but thanks to your skilful management we now enjoy the luxury of a successful gymnastics’ team.”
Flattered by his appreciation, Mary’s heart again pounded in her chest. Unable to press Father Frank further, in an attempt to calm herself down, she lowered her eyes, placed the mouse mat back on the desk and took a bookmark instead.
But what she observed did quite the opposite of reduce her body temperature. On one side was the information presenting the orphanage, and on the other, smiling young soldiers and the quotation from the Bible; “‘I have not come to bring peace, but a sword.’ Matthew 10:34”
Oh, dear, here’s another example, Mary thought. This phrase has been torn from the text and now it is conveying a completely different message to the one intended originally!
An awful suspicion struck her like a lightening bolt from the highest heavens. Her hands were trembling. Unable to breath properly, she browsed through the promotional material again.
“Oh, my!” Mary blurted. “Look at this, Father, all of this stuff contains Biblical quotations, but the context is so…”
Without looking up from an article he was speed reading, Frank sighed, “So what, Mary?”
“It is so strange, Father. What is this all about, do you think? Editorial errors or blasphemy?”
She looked intensely at the priest, who seemed totally unmoved by her concerns.
After a brief
