Snapping out of it, the slender young artist suddenly became aware of her image in the bathroom mirror. Ready for her shower, she must have been standing there naked for ages in the early morning chill lost in her thoughts. The interruption had been that ominous tingling that warned Amelia that what she had nicknamed her affliction was about to flare up.
Even alone, she felt embarrassed. Yet she was unable to tear her eyes away this time as the dreaded spectacle unfolded. At its peak she winced and turned away, reminding herself how much it ruined the look of her well-shaped chest. Although she had been careful to hide it in its worst moments, she knew Rob had spotted it a few times in their four years together. Thankfully although he had stared, he had never made any adverse comment.
The thoughts she had been lost in had been about Rob. It was only a few weeks ago that he had come back to her after four months of separation. And only two days since they had bought the brand new king-size bed that she had seen and fallen in love with. When it was delivered that afternoon, they had taken their time tenderly making love on it. When she had felt his warm fluids finally spurting into her, she had never felt more in love.
But Rob had left her yet again just yesterday. This was his third Navy tour of duty overseas in under three years and would last at least five months. As she had helped him pack yet again, the salty tears had flooded down her cheeks making her pretty face a blotchy mess.
Standing beside her, Rob had tried to cheer her up by half-joking that her creative time would be freed up with him out of the way. When he saw this didn't help, he reminded her that they would be in regular touch. But she knew the brief calls, letters, emails and occasional gifts wouldn't compensate her for not having him around for such a long period.
Before his last stint overseas, he had decided the problem was just that she lacked company. His solution had been to put her in touch with a group of Navy women who got together socially while their husbands were away. She dutifully turned up a few times before finding out that all their occasions were the same - weekend afternoons at someone's house, warmed-up finger food, cheap beer, cask wine, and bawling babies. Worse, their conversations never strayed from the Navy, their menfolk or kids. Amelia quietly gave up and refusing all invitations, sank her social time back into her art.
She relived yesterday's sombre walk down the wharf, her face buried into the shoulder of his uniform. She had only lifted it when he took her chin for that last goodbye kiss before he strode up the gangplank. Feeling abandoned, she had stood there waving despite a constant blur of tears. Her battle to cope with the 'feast or famine' aspect that came with Navy husbands had been lost before his ship was out of sight.
An hour later, alone in her car at the pier, Amelia had felt the void close in with its vast all-consuming silence. She'd had to sit there for ages, dabbing tissues around her red eyes until she had recovered enough to drive home.
Thankfully the random outbursts of tears had dried up overnight. She better have that quick shower before more time slipped away. Drying and throwing on some old overalls, she started to bury herself in her painting. Taking a break around noon, she nursed a coffee before suddenly remembering a promise to go next door for a few hours and help Julie set up for her party tonight. Talking with her best friend would help take her mind off things for a while. But she really wished she hadn't accepted her invitation three months ago not knowing Rob wouldn't be there to accompany her. Then again, she really didn't want to be alone in the house tonight either. She fought the niggling thoughts that insisted Rob should be around more, like normal husbands.
That night, to hide the girlishness of her figure, she threw on a loose pale yellow T-shirt top and slid an off-white mini skirt on under it. She was pleased with the look of her long bare legs in the mirror, and put the stockings back in the drawer. Leaning to the side, she aimed the hand dryer at those last damp patches in her light brown hair before running a final brush through it. Standing up straight, she used her hands to finish arranging it around her shoulders. Now, which sandals should she wear?
Cradling a chilled bottle of sparkling wine, she nervously set off on the short walk next door to Julie's. It was still just after eight, but the summer sky was still light. Somewhat shy by nature, she hoped she would meet some extroverted souls early on. From past experience, she knew that could provide the boost needed to become more confident and outgoing.
It was such a relief when Julie was there at the door to greet her. Behind her rang the uneven din coming from groups of people spread throughout her large house. A lot of the early evening was spent mingling with Julie at her side, meeting her friends and guests and listening to group chatter. Amelia soon felt at ease. She surprised herself when catering duties began to call Julie away by mingling alone among the small groups.
She soon found she liked Julie's acquaintances. Male and female alike, they were the type of creative and articulate individuals she wanted to find out more about. They were totally opposite to the Navy set; sensitive, unorthodox, opinionated and yet informal, yet openly warm.
In one group, she found herself drawn into a discussion between some actors about the importance of enjoying or avoiding solitude. To her surprise, she found herself caught up as a regular and fluent contributor after being challenged for her initial thoughts, calling on her current and past experiences. She felt pleased when the others around not only listened to her, but built their own ideas on her insights.
It was just after ten. Amelia needed a drink and withdrew from socialising to catch her breath. She found an ideal spot to sit down on an empty two-seater couch in the corner of the living room. This was her first time alone, and she felt pleased that it had nothing to do with feeling left out. She had only just put her glass to her lips and taken her first sip when Laura walked over, sat down beside her and re-introduced herself.
Amelia had met the leggy model earlier in the night, and they had exchanged smiles across various circles since. She was struck by how beautiful Laura was. A little taller than her, the slender, tanned young woman had loose strands of chin-length honey brown hair that framed her high cheekbones. Khaki shorts highlighted a narrow waist. But it was her top that kept catching Amelia's attention. Or more precisely, the perfectly pointed breasts she could clearly see through the sheer grey material. Each time she had spotted Laura earlier in the night, Amelia found herself trying to fathom how anyone could choose a top which blatantly displayed her nipples in public. But she was astute enough to notice everybody else there except her was quite blasé about it.
The young artist decided to just ignore the top as she half-turned to Laura. Keeping her gaze above Laura's shoulders, she looked into her glowing coffee-syrup eyes only to get totally lost in them. She surprised herself with the first words that finally stumbled from her lips.
"Your top is lovely. But I couldn't wear it. I'm not that bold."
Laura looked down her front in surprise, then slowly back at Amelia.
"Bold?" Laura responded, eyebrows rising. "Trust me, once you get to know this crowd as well as I do, you'll realise it would be very hard to shock them let alone with this."
The dark brown eyes looked into Amelia's, her head curiously tilting on a slight angle. "But let's look further at that assertion that you couldn't wear it! Given my field of work, I think I may be a better judge than you about that. Let me get a better look."
Laura lowered her glass to the floor and angling her own body towards Amelia, ran an astute eye up and down her.
"You're reasonably tall, have a beautiful face, lovely hair and eyes, nice shapely legs, and a perfect figure," she slowly listed approvingly. "You even look about my size across the bust." She put a reassuring hand on Amelia's knee as she leaned and delivered her verdict.
"I've no doubt you would carry this top off superbly." Amelia heard, bashfully lowering her gaze although pleased with the flattering assessment. She even imagined herself in the top for one daring instant. But she came back to earth as she reminded herself that an outbreak of her affliction would ruin the whole effect.
"I'm still not convinced. I'd be too aware I had it on," she stammered.
"Can I let you into a secret?" Laura advanced. "I shouldn't say this, being in the fashion industry. But once you put on anything, you usually forget what you're wearing pretty quickly unless someone comments on it. For example you chose that striking T-shirt carefully tonight for effect but honestly, how often have you been aware of it until now?"
"I haven't given it any thought at all now that you mention it," Amelia admitted, looking down.
