684: “There I was . . .”
What a Piece of Work I Am, Chapter 16 begins
“THERE I WAS, standing there, in the locker room—”
“—in the harsh light of the locker room, outlined against the deep shadows—”
“—struggling to get into Renée’s dress—”
“—chewing your lip with anxiety about being discovered, tiny beads of perspiration misting your furrowed forehead—”
“—and I came to the realization that Renée was a smaller woman than I was. I had been deceived by her position. She had seemed bigger than she was.”
“And you also realized that there was another emotion, mixed with the anxiety and tension that you were feeling—”
“There was?”
“—an emotion that would have surprised you if you had noticed it or thought about it.”
“Are you kidding?”
“I’m willing to bet on it.”
I leaned toward her, put my hand behind her head (ran my fingers into her hair, to tell the truth), and pulled her toward me so that I could whisper into her ear.
“Oh!” she said. “You’re right! But I didn’t notice that until later. I could tell that I looked good in the dress. It was the simplest of them, and the sexiest. I loved the way the fabric felt. It was much finer than anything I owned, anything I had ever worn.”
“With your hands behind your hips, aping that odd pose that fashion models used so often then—”
“Aping?”
“Mimicking.”
“Emulating.”
“Emulating that odd posture, you turned this way and that to look at yourself in the mirror—”
“—and I saw Guy—”
“—the handsome Guy—”
“—standing there in the doorway. For an instant I was terrified, because I was aware of him only as a—shape—”
“—a looming shape, a vaguely threatening presence.”
“Then I realized who it was, and I felt guilty, ashamed, and profoundly embarrassed. I thought, Well, I got caught. And I got caught by the one guy I would not want to be embarrassed in front of. Serves me right. I started fumbling with the damned zipper, and he just stood there in the doorway, watching me, very cool and nonchalant, wearing a kitty-cat grin.”
[to be continued]
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