Homecoming (14 page)

“Ooo...” the baby cooed.

“I agree, Molly.” She stroked Molly’s head as she stared at the dress. It was the color of lilacs, the most delicate pale lavender she’d ever seen.

“I put our salads in the stock room—Auntie’s going to set up a little table for us. Hi, sweetie.” Sara sidled up beside Cory and scooped Molly from her arms. “Why is it that she stops fussing whenever you hold her? Maybe you need to start thinking pink and blue before time runs out.”

“What do you think?” Cory asked, nodding at the dress and ignoring Sara’s reference to her biological clock.

“Try it on.”

“There’s no price tag.”

“You know the saying: if you have to ask....”

Cory sighed. Maybe it would look horrible. She should try it on and then it would look absolutely awful and she’d stop thinking about it. With any luck.

“Do it now, before you have time to change your mind,” Sara said.

Cory went to the dressing room alone while Sara went to help Ana. Her fingers shook as she slipped the dress off the luxurious padded hangar that was made of the same material as the gown.

This was no mere dress. This was a
gown
.

When she pulled it on and zipped up, she knew. Even before she looked in the mirror. When she stepped onto the platform and finally dared to find her reflection, she gasped at the transformation.

She brought shaking hands to her torso—the bodice fit like a glove and hugged her so her breasts pushed up just right, creating the illusion of more; her waist looked tiny and delicate, the fullness of her hips completely hidden. She dropped her hands to smooth the full skirt. The color was simply delicious, making her skin shimmer, making her eyes bigger and darker.

It was perfect.

Cory saw Ana’s reflection in the mirror and she turned around on the platform; when their eyes met, the woman smiled and nodded. No words were necessary between them. Cory knew. Ana knew. She wasn’t leaving without the dress.

Ana broke the silence with a long, satisfied sigh. “My work is done—except shoes. What size?”

“Six and a half.”

“I have the perfect pair—good for dancing all night and it has a matching purse. And Sara has already made an appointment for you at Tony’s, for after lunch. Now, come, eat, and I shall wrap up your gown.”

***

“Tony!” Sara hurried in the door, with Molly in her arms and Cory at her heels.

“An angel, you bring me.” The man whisked Molly into his arms and made the rounds while Cory made her way to be shampooed and conditioned before her cut and style.

When she was in Tony’s chair, she took a deep breath. “Do whatever you want.”

“You sure?” he asked. “Your beautiful hair—you have not cut it in so long...you will not miss some of the length?”

“You’re the expert.” Cory caught Sara’s nod in the mirror. This was a time for bravery. It was only hair. It would grow.
I need a new “me” to go with that dress.

Tony sectioned off her hair and began to snip. At first she watched as the long strands slipped down the cape to the floor. Then she relaxed, put her fate in his hands, and practiced dance steps in her head.

As the weight of her hair lessened with each snip, she began to feel a bit light-headed, and finally forced herself to take a peek in the mirror.

Her hair no longer reached half-way down her back; instead it waved and curled in long layers that still reached well past her shoulders at its longest. He hadn’t cut it short at all.

Tony dramatically spritzed some kind of lotion or spray gel in a cloud above her, then drew his fingers through the layers, scrunching the curls as it dried under heat lamps that created a red-bulbed halo around her. “You like?” he asked.

Cory blinked, then nodded. It was a perfect blend of the past and the present. A good compromise.

“It will be so easy—you finger fluff as it dries; but it is still long enough to put up...you see?” He piled her hair on top of her head in a simple twist, spinning her chair around and handing her a mirror so she could see the back.

“Oh, Cory, it’s so great!” Sara appeared with Molly. “I already put the dress bag in the car. Give me your foot and—”

“No-no-no,” Tony interrupted. “Let me put the slipper on the princess.” After she’d slipped off her sandals, he took the shoe from Sara and put it on Cory’s foot.

“Ah—this shoe, she is made for you!”

He slipped on the other shoe and Cory looked down to see lavender lace pumps. Shoes for dancing. With a shiver of vivid recollection she remembered her last dance with Jake; her lips tingled from the memory of his kiss. She was stepping into dangerous waters with a magical dress and princess shoes.

And she didn’t care.

Pronouncing their shopping trip a complete success, Sara tucked a newly fed Molly into her car seat and they headed back toward Faythe.

After they’d been driving a few minutes, Cory said “Sara, can I talk to you about something?”

“You thinking you’re going to look a little too stunning in the dress?”

“Maybe. I feel like I’m not sure what I’m doing anymore.”

“Confused about Jake?”

“I think I’ve always been confused about...men. I thought my marriage was okay for a long time, you know? When Ed told me he wanted a divorce, it was more like being let go from a job. He recruited a better wife, then demoted me from the position.”

“All men aren’t like that, Cory.”

“But I think my judgment about men—any of them—is...oh, I don’t even know what I’m trying to say. I guess I just don’t trust myself to even know what I want.”

“Well, what do you
think
you want from Jake?”

“When I saw that dress, the way I looked in that dress...I started thinking about the type of women Jake dates. Women he treats well but doesn’t expect anything from, and they don’t expect anything from him.”

“That’s how he described his dating history?”

She nodded.

“And you think you might want to be one of those women?”

She nodded again, keeping her eyes on the road, not daring to face Sara’s undoubtedly wide-eyed stare. “You think I’m nuts, don’t you?” she finally asked.

There was a long pause before Sara answered. “I think you’re an intelligent, stubborn, wonderful woman who could be headed for trouble, or, you’re just headed for a great time. If you can control your heart enough to have a little no-strings-attached fun, then maybe you should. A little dancing, share the limelight, a little hot sex....you’re both adults, right? Just think about it, and go in with both eyes open, girlfriend, and you’ll be fine.”

Cory considered Sara’s thought, rolling it around in her head until they reached the outskirts of Faythe. Could she really
be
the kind of woman Jake wanted...just for one, magical night?

Thousands of years ago, cats were worshiped as gods. Cats have never forgotten this.

Anonymous

Chapter 9

“This must be one big dress,” Jake said as he struggled to fold the garment bag in half to place it on top of the overnight bags in the tiny trunk of his two-seater convertible.

Cory hadn’t shown the dress to him, and she’d kept her hair in a bun so her haircut too was still a mystery. She was enjoying the game. When she’d arrived at the house after her shopping trip, she’d ignored his questions and lugged her purchases up the stairs to her room.

Now they had a five-hour trip ahead of them in his cramped sports car, and the butterflies in her stomach felt more like a crazed flock of seagulls. As they left Faythe behind them, she popped an Altoid mint into her mouth.

“Want a mint?”

“Sure.” He kept his eyes on the road and opened his mouth for her to pop one in.

Cory took a mint from the tin and carefully placed it on his tongue; at the last second he closed his lips catching the tip of her finger. It was an innocent thing, but it produced a quiver inside, low and hot, in a place where she hadn’t felt anything in a long, long time. How could the simple touch of Jake’s lips make her feel something more intense than she had in seven years of marriage?

She turned her head away so he wouldn’t see the blaze in her cheeks. If this was a hint of what might come later—if she decided to go through with her plan—she wasn’t sure she would even live through it.

“You think I should try to say my speech again?”

When her brain finally registered Jake had spoken to, she pulled herself back to reality. “What?”

“Where were you, just then?”

“Oh. Nowhere, really.” His disbelief hung in the air between them

“So, should I rehearse my speech some more?”

“I think it’s is as good as it’s going to be. Like they say, you don’t want to leave your best swing on the driving range. Why don’t you tell me more about your work instead, and some of the people I might meet tonight at the gala.”

He paused for a long moment then said, “I still can’t quite believe how lucky I was—”

“Wait a minute. You always said there was no such thing, that a person makes their own luck.”

“Okay. So, it was simply a matter of choosing the right time to get on the elevator one day,” he teased. “I was shooting the breeze with a coworker—a fellow newly hired flunky—about this idea I had for the company’s new account. I hadn’t noticed the big boss get on the elevator at the last second, plus he had his back to us.”

“Ah, so
he
chose the right time to get on the elevator.”

Jake turned his head and looked at her above his sunglasses, wiggling his eyebrows. “Don’t get all metaphysical on me.”

She held her hand up. “Promise. Go on...”

“Mr. Shelton didn’t say anything then, but the next day my position mysteriously had been modified. I got invited to observe at some of the planning meetings, which were pretty much free-form brainstorming sessions.”

“—that you’re so good at,” she added.

“Mr. Shelton—Carl—asked for my input one day, and my ideas were added to the pot. They ended up presenting
my
campaign to the client and at that moment I started climbing the corporate ladder. I still can’t believe he took a chance on me based on one idea, but thank God I’ve managed to pretty much keep my streak going.”

“He sounds like a rarity in the corporate world.”

“Oh, he is. He’s mentored me since day one, so he and I have gotten pretty close over the years—more like the father I
should
have had, maybe. I’ve got it made.”

“And it sounds like they appreciate you there.”

“Tillie always told me I’d ‘found my niche’ at Think Tank. I enjoy the work and the people I manage are great—my assistant takes infinitely good care of me, like I told you before—benefits are good, and the future looks promising. I have no complaints.”

“And you’re up for a promotion.”

“It would mean more travel, and a much bigger salary that goes with increased pressure and responsibility. It’s everything I’ve been working for all these years.”

“Competition?”

“Primarily Rod, who’s been snapping at my heels for years. I’ve managed to ignore him for the most part, which really irritates the hell out of him.”

“Seems like he plays dirty.”

“He’s really pretty good, though. Better qualified than I am if you consider his MBA from the University of Michigan, and how independent he is. I’ve seen him go through a slew of secretaries, though. He’s pretty aloof, holds onto everything pretty close, keeps everyone in the dark as much as he can. And he puts up a very convincing front that he’s a big team player, but I think he’s really just trying to build some kind of dynasty there. He’d love to be president one day, and doesn’t care how many people he steps on along the way.”

“Does Mr. Shelton know all this?”

“I think he does. Sometimes I think Carl might be giving Rod enough rope to hang himself—testing him to see if he’s got what it takes. He’s so self-sufficient....”

Cory heard the wistfulness in his voice and an ache squeezed her heart, knowing he had bared his soul when he’d shared his disability with her, revealing his vulnerability. If this Mr. Shelton had any sense or intelligence, he was probably aware of Rod’s dirty little tricks and hopefully put more weight on Jake’s creativity and problem solving abilities than Rod’s education.

“Sounds to me like you’re the perfect person in the perfect job. Can’t ask for much more than that.” Except maybe to share it all with someone at the end of the day. Did he feel that way?

“I’m happy with what I’ve accomplished.”

But are you happy?
She buried the question as soon as it formed in her mind, instead asking, “Does your father know how successful you’ve become?”

Jake raked his fingers through his hair which had become tousled in the wind, then he gripped the stick to downshift around a tight curve, using the time to gather his thoughts. Was he ready to answer these kinds of questions? This was Cory, he reminded himself. If anyone would understand, she would.