Valentine's Day was always a bore. Wanda had reached the seemingly mature of age twenty three and had yet to find anything special about February the Fourteenth. Each year she waited for that life shattering event that all her friends seemed to be constantly gushing about and sure enough the day passed like any other in humdrum familiarity. Not that Wanda hadn't tried. She had trolled the bars to find some passion, even placed an ad on Craigslist in the hope of getting a decent one night stand, but that had just ended with the usual unsatisfactory grope from a well-meaning but otherwise mediocre guy without much clue about anything, especially the kind of wild sex she fantasized about in the privacy of her loft.
The parcel had arrived ten minutes before she was due to leave the office. Wanda had checked the name on the tag twice before even allowing herself to acknowledge it was for her. Nothing ever came addressed to her at the office, even work related items would have a department or extension reference, never her name.
She read the label again just to make sure. Wanda Ringsome, private and personal. The package was very neatly wrapped and sealed, the hand written address label outlined in heavy black marker and the whole finally tied for extra security with red wax string. Wanda wanted to tear it open immediately but too many people where passing through the reception area on their way home for the night and she just couldn't concentrate properly. Sighing she decided it would just have to wait till she got home.
"You going to come for a drink tonight Wanda?"
Mary was a good enough sort and Wanda liked her company occasionally but just recently she had noticed that the accidental touches seemed to last a little longer than was comfortable and the friendly pecks on the cheek occasionally involved the tip of Mary's tongue touching her skin.
"Not tonight Mary I have a lot to do when I get home."
"Got a hot Valentines date tomorrow?"
The innuendo in Mary's voice was heavy as was the not so subtle request for more information.
"No date. Just laundry and correspondence."
"Night then, maybe early next week."
The goodbye hug was warm, very warm. Mary's hand was a little too low on Wanda's back for comfort and her lips a little overly long on her cheek. Wanda extricated herself and retreated behind the desk and in a helpful but rather pointed way pushed the automatic door opener button on the counter. Mary spun on her heel and sauntered into the street, her hips swaying remarkably similarly to a cat on heat.
The TriMet ride from West Burnside to 6th Street took no time at all. Wanda exited the compartment and quickly walked the short distance from the station to her apartment. Everyone was forever telling her how lucky she was to have inherited her grandmothers loft slap bang in the City Center but to Wanda the area was dirty, smelly and far from her ideal location. Homelessness and vice existed in the open here and no amount of street cleaning ever got rid of the stench of prostitution, urine and drugs that permeated the doorways. Certainly at night it had a bohemian atmosphere but like all city red light districts it also had crime and usury.
"Evening Miss Ringsome."
Chad the doorman pulled the heavy double door open just long enough for Wanda to enter but not long enough to allow any hope to the few miscreants lounging by the gutter.
"Sorry about the audience Miss. Have been trying to get the Police to do something about it all day. Seems there is some sort of parade tomorrow and they are busy putting up barriers and such."
Wanda smiled at Chad warmly. He was quite new but was very attentive and she always felt secure when he was on duty. In his early thirties he had the stance of an ex-military man and wore the uniform the landlords supplied with great distinction.
"A parade? How wonderful!"
Wanda's sarcasm wasn't lost on Chad and he laughed heartily.
"I am sure they won't be any great bother Miss. If you let me know when you need to go out I will make sure to be on the door."
The private elevator to the loft was at the very end of the hallway. Wanda's grandmother had owned the building for most of her life and when she eventually sold to the new owner insisted that the loft and elevator were free and gratis for perpetuity. The elevator opened when Wanda punched in her code and the ride to the fourth floor, entirely her floor was fast and silent. The doors opened and revealed her sanctuary. Luxury was something her 'Nana' had courted all her life. The furniture and decoration was beyond anything Wanda could have hoped to accomplish on her meager salary, although of course her work was simply for her own amusement as the inheritance that came with loft was staggering even in these days of multimillion start-up companies.
Wanda placed the parcel on the glass topped bar and stared at it wonderingly. Her inclination was to open it immediately but then she decided that perhaps a better plan would be to build the anticipation to an even higher fever pitch. Carefully straightening the box so it exactly lined up with the parallel edges at front and back of the beveled glass she began the usual nightly ritual that fulfilled her need for minute organization.
Dinner was easy. Being a good planner there was a full quota of nutritious ready to heat meals in the freezer compartment. Once a month Wanda prepared a selection of soups, meats and vegetables, carefully weighing and packaging them ready for consumption. There was always a choice of at least four entrees and three desserts, quite sufficient to ensure boredom wouldn't cause the dismissal of meals. Wanda had suffered from a minor eating disorder in her teens and now rigorously stuck to a strict dietary schedule. As with all recovered addicts she fully understood that just a few slip ups could easily lead to a downhill spiral and she had promised herself firmly never to travel that road again.
Dinner finished and dishes safely rinsed and in the washer Wanda at last felt she had piqued her curiosity quite sufficiently. All through the previous hour she had glanced over to the bar and wondered, imagining what might be hidden behind the masque of boringly plain brown wrapping paper. The handwriting seemed a little familiar but for some reason the perpetrator just wouldn't come to mind. Several times she had mentally listed all the possibilities from A to Z and each time had reached Zachariah without any further clue.
Carefully she began to attempt to remove the string. It had been very cleverly knotted in a fashion she had seen used to tie together the bamboo poles in some Japanese fences on her vacation in Hawaii. Try as she might there seemed no place to start to undo the intricate design so with a sigh she reached behind the bar and retrieved the knife reserved for slicing lemons. The blade was nicely serrated and a few quick strokes removed the first obstacle to the packages contents.
The package was three foot in width, two feet in diameter and four inches deep. The wrapping paper was very neatly folded and creased and then fastened with packing tape on every edge. Several minutes of fruitless searching for a loose corner and once more the knife came to hand. Slipping the blade into the paper at one corner Wanda passed the blade along the top edge till the layer came clean away.
"Well that's very odd!"
Beneath the brown postal packing paper the box was wrapped again, this time with a very bright paper of fluorescent pink and yellow stripes with "queen of the fucking universe" printed every few inches in shadowed black typeset. Wanda was starting to get hot and this little frustration suggested to her that a drink was in order. Again squaring the package very carefully on the counter she walked over to her refrigerator and retrieved a can of Root Beer from the interior. The ring pull made a satisfying hiss as it released and Wanda carefully poured half the can into a glass tumbler. Returning the can to the cooler she retrieved a straw, red because red is always best and sipping thoughtfully returned to the task in hand.
The fancy paper had been creased and folded perfectly but Wanda was glad to see that it was only taped sparingly. It occurred to her that this wrapping had probably be done by the store assistant where the item had been purchased and she quickly slid her fingers along the partially open edge and drew the paper aside.
The box beneath was of a very fine quality, matte black in color with a very striking pink and white heraldic design overprinted 'Designed and Handmade in England.' Wanda brushed the back of her hand across the cardboard almost expecting the texture to be somehow velveteen but was surprised to find it smooth and with a slight sheen. The box lid opened as a full flap and beneath was revealed the contents enclosed in multiple folds of black tissue paper. Carefully lifting the flimsy tissue Wanda gasped and her eyes opened as wide as possible to take in the wonder now exposed.
"A Countess De Femme Dress, a Countess De Femme Dress, A COUNTESS DE FEMME DRESS!"
Wanda leaned against the counter and fought for breathe. Her eyes never left the dress for a second for fear that somehow it might vanish if she even blinked. She had seen the dress at the Montreal Fetish Show the previous year and had regretted not purchasing it every day since. Certainly she had no real need of it, no particular use for it, but some items of clothing are beyond want and need, they are essential to the soul and now, now she had her dress.
