Gwen went over her mental checklists Saturday morning while cleaning and re-cleaning the house. She knew she couldn't leave it anything less than spotless for her daughter and son-in-law, but occasionally found herself distracted by doubts about what she had packed prior to Tim returning home the evening before.
The dress she intended to wear to dinner that evening was hung by her small suitcase and ready to go while the items to wear under it were tucked safely out of sight in the bag. Still, she checked several times to make sure she had included everything she felt she needed for their evening at the Inn.
Tim's gifts were in there, too; more than once Gwen considered leaving the album at home to be given later, when the time was right, and even went so far as to take it out of the bag once. Only the thought of having to explain her delay to Natalie made her return it to its hiding spot underneath her packed clothes.
Bringing the objects under the magazine in her nightstand had been briefly considered as well. It was dismissed, though; using them might be too brazen given the romantic circumstances this trip was intended for, and besides, what if someone went through their bags while they were at dinner and found them? The idea of returning them to the closet crossed her mind as well, but Alison already knew about their existence, and Jason too, she thought ruefully; they were probably better hidden where they were.
The time she had spent with Natalie the day before weighed heavily on her mind as well. She had mentioned to Tim that they had ridden together, hoping he would ask for more information, but had apparently been too occupied with several phone messages to ask whether they had done more than ride. She had not told him of their activities after, and it bothered her that she had not been more forthcoming about their activities, despite the fact he had not been upset with her past dalliances. She would offer to tell him more, as much as he wanted to hear, Gwen decided. After this trip was over, though—she had enough to worry about as it was.
Tim and Gwen were on the road that afternoon well before their housesitters arrived. They took their time, stopping several times along the way to browse local shops one or the other found interesting.
It was a little past 4 when they made the turn onto the long driveway of the Inn At Little Falls. "More cars," Gwen murmured, remembering how empty the parking area had been the last time she was here. More cars meant more people, more people meant more risk of others finding out why they were here, and why she had been her before...
"More cars than what?" Tim asked, a smile on his face.
"Oh, uh more cars than I expected would be here," Gwen quickly lied. He would find out soon enough this was not her first visit; no need to start the explanations and apologies now. Steven and Norman awaited them at the top of the stairs that opened on to the wide porch. Gwen was mildly relieved to see they played their part perfectly, greeting her as if this was her first time in their establishment. It was only when Steven was leading Tim forward on a tour of the premises that Norman fell back, slowing Gwen as her husband turned a corner up ahead. "Natalie told us why you're here. Don't you worry about a thing!" She smiled, but a wave of panic rushed over her. They knew?
Her memories were vivid as they were shown to their room. The afternoon sun lit the space rather than the morning light she had remembered from that day, but everything else was the same. Tim whistled appreciatively. "Nice place," he told the innkeepers. "This is perfect!"
"We like it," Steven, replied casually. "We're glad you do, too. I understand you have reservations down at Levi's?"
Tim nodded. "Our children set that up for us as an anniversary gift. Good food, I hope?"
"The best this side of Atlanta! In the meantime, please feel free to wander the grounds, have a glass of wine or a beer...the porch is wonderful for sitting this time of afternoon. If you need anything at all, just let us know."
Gwen thanked them, and the door closed with a quiet thunk as they took their leave. The room produced adrenaline and fear, like the recollection of a memorable unbroken horse or a roller coaster...
Tim looked at her. "We've got a little while before dinner," he motioned to the French Doors. "Want to sit out in the garden?" A quick test of the bed would be fun, he thought, but she seemed too distracted for that just now.
"Maybe later. I think the porch might be nice, though."
"Porch it is."
They were not the only couple out there, and Gwen was grateful for the distraction of other people, quietly sipping her wine before excusing herself as Tim talked fishing with another middle-aged gentleman. As good a time as any to get ready, she decided.
Closing the door behind her, she took her bag and retreated to the bathroom to sort out the items she had worn that morning not so long ago. I won't show him this until he's seen the album, she resolved. If he doesn't like the pictures, he won't like this. The corset and stockings were fitted as quickly as possible, the possibility of being interrupted and prematurely exposed hurrying her efforts. The Slut suggested it might be a good night to go pantiless, but the Lady loudly squashed the idea, reminding her that the underwear was so wispy and brief as to be practically non-existent anyways, and that she was going to dinner with her husband in a nice restaurant, for goodness sake! At least pretend to be raised properly! The dress itself was the black one she had worn to the Chamber of Commerce dinner, more racy than she was used to, but presentable for a dimly lit restaurant. She reluctantly had to admit it managed to not hint too broadly at what lay underneath. Somewhat satisfied, she exited the bathroom as Tim returned from the porch.
"Hey, I was wondering where you—" He stopped as he took in her transformation. "Wow."
"What, is something wrong?"
"No, no, something is very right, but uhh, wow, different. You look incredible."
She could tell his words were genuine. "Well, thank you. I figured this dress would be alright since we're out of town anyways."
"Of course it is." The dress is great, Tim thought, but there's something more, something he couldn't put his finger on...he looked to her feet. "Have you ever worn shoes with that much heel? I like 'em. A lot."
Once before, the Slut slyly replied, but Gwen did not put voice to the answer, instead looking at the floor.
He took her in his arms. "Wanna skip dinner and get to dessert?"
"Plenty of time for dinner and dessert," she said with that soft firmness he had first seen all those years ago. "Get dressed."
Tim almost seemed to pout. "Yes, ma'am."
Gwen made her way out to the garden on slightly unsteady legs and sat while he changed, confident in the privacy the lush greenery afforded, smiling when her husband came out in a shirt and tie. The only time she ever got to see him like this were weddings, funerals, and planning board meetings, she mused, but darn, he cleans up nicely. She could not deny the pride she felt in the anticipation of being seen with this handsome man. "Shall we go?"
Their hopes of a romantic setting and good food were not disappointed. They exchanged their customary gifts before ordering, a fishing supply gift certificate for Tim, a tack shop spree for Gwen. They stayed for some time, just enjoying each other's company, before deciding it was time for bed.
