Claire Roselli paused at the sound of the doorbell, glancing up from the last of the dinner dishes in the sink to the wall clock above. The clock read a quarter to seven, pointing out to the forty year old that she was running about thirty minutes late. At least according to the evening's original plans.
Laying that last dish on the drying rack, Claire dried her hands on a nearby towel and then walked the short ten feet to the apartment door. It only took a further few moments to undo the double locks, the bulk of that time used to glance through the peephole to verify the identity of her caller. Not that she had any doubt of it at all.
The locks undone, the door opened to reveal a stout, curly haired, black woman about ten years older than Claire. Dressed in a pair of jeans and a non- descript blue blouse under her coat, the woman also wore a look of impatience on her face, one that quickly became more intense once she saw that Claire wasn't even dressed yet.
"You do remember that the class starts at eight sharp," Patricia Grant said without preamble as she stepped inside the apartment, "and that you were supposed to meet me at the bus stop almost twenty minutes ago."
"I remembered... both," Claire said as she closed and locked the door behind Patricia. "I meant to call you, but I lost track of time."
Patricia's look said that she wasn't going to buy that as an explanation. Not with her friend's almost compulsive obsession about always being on time for things.
"Okay," Claire admitted, knowing that her lie was a poor one, "I guess I was just thinking that maybe I'd skip the class this week and..."
"And you figured," Patricia said, completing Claire's train of thought, but not in the way she had planned, "that if you waited until the last minute to tell me, like you're doing now, rather than mention it at work this morning, or even call me at home an hour ago, that I wouldn't have time to talk you out of it. In fact, I wouldn't have time to do much of anything if I had any plans to catch the bus and make it there on time."
Now it was Claire's expression that gave a non-verbal reply, one that said her plan had been something like that.
"Well, my friend, it wasn't a bad plan," Patricia smiled. "In fact, it probably would've worked. The only little flaw in it is that we're not taking the bus tonight, because Benjamin left me his car when he went out of town for the weekend. So we still have just enough time for you to march your little tail into that bedroom, trade that old housecoat for something more appropriate, and still be on time for class."
Claire hesitated for a moment, considering if she should say she also wasn't feeling well, but then thought better of it. Even if she was a better liar, she would never be comfortable lying to a woman who had become her best friend these past few years. And it was quickly obvious that Patricia wasn't going to take any excuse short of her being ill.
"It's taken me almost six months to pry you out of this apartment and there's no way I'm going to let you slip back into that pattern of spending Friday nights camped out in front of the television set eating junk food," Patricia said. "If I can't convince you to go out and meet someone, then I'm going to make sure you at least go out."
Claire wanted to say that she liked television and junk food but thought better of it. It would've been a poor thank you for all the trouble Patricia had gone through over her this past half year. So keeping her retort to herself, she instead gave her a smile of surrender and said she would be ready in a few minutes.
Stepping into the bedroom, while Patricia waited in the living room, Claire undid her light blue housecoat and tossed it across the chair by the bed. Since she wasn't expecting anyone other than Patricia, she hadn't bothered with any undergarments when she had changed clothes earlier. Standing naked in front of the dresser mirror, the short haired brunette took a few moments to look at the reflection facing her. Her first thought was that she didn't look bad for her age, certainly better than her mother and both her aunts had looked at this point in their lives. Women today, she reasoned, were better informed and more motivated to take care of their bodies.
Of course she could afford to lose a few pounds, but what woman of any age didn't think that? Her breasts, while comparatively average in size, were still firm enough to defy gravity on their own, and those proverbial extra pounds were spread evenly enough across her body that she did not look overweight. Not that anyone had ever used that term to describe her. Her legs were still trim and well defined, and the tiny bush that sat at the junction between them might have been lighter in color than it once was, but not excessively so. Men still found her attractive, she believed, so why was it so hard for her to move forward and put that thought to the test?
The answer, she knew, was closer than the mirrored glass. It had already been a year since her relationship with David had ended, but she was still finding it impossible to take that first step forward. After almost three years together, the unforeseen collapse of that relationship had left her in a state of free fall that she seemed unable to pull herself out of.
Eight years older than Claire, David had been a mathematics teacher at the same school that she and Patricia taught at. While the prestigious academy tended to frown on staff members dating, there was no official policy to prevent it. Besides, when she had first begun spending time with David, the idea of it developing into something more serious never entered her mind.
It had started off innocently enough, first shared lunches with a few other staff members, then more private ones with just the two of them. That led, in time, to an occasional drink after the day was done, again in a group at first, changing to a more intimate pairing after a while. By the time they went on an actual date, people had begun to wonder why it had taken so long. The dates quickly became more frequent, and in what Claire considered a surprisingly short span, given the pace that everything had proceeded at, led to the two of them sharing a bed. The public knowledge of which didn't make some of the more conservative members of the school's executive board happy, but there was little that they could do about it.
David had been twice divorced and understandably gun-shy about making a third trip to the altar, not placing much faith in the old saying that the third time was the charm. Having had her own marriage of over a decade end in divorce some years earlier, Claire understood his concerns, or at least felt she did, and was willing to settle for less than the ideal. They didn't need a piece of paper, she told herself, and on the first anniversary of the night they had consummated their couplehood, Claire suggested that they move in together. After all, it wasn't like either of them was a kid anymore, and there were few people in their personal or professional lives that didn't know they were already married in all but name.
To her surprise, David was adamantly opposed to the idea, insisting that he wanted to maintain his own apartment. Claire thought that a considerable waste of money, given the amount of time he spent at hers, but decided in the end not to push the point. After all, it was his money that he was wasting. Better, she told herself, to concentrate on what they had together rather than what they didn't.
With their living arrangements settled, things went along their merry way for the next few years, with hardly a ripple of discontent from either of them. Therefore, it was something of a shock when, a week before the last school year ended, David unexpectedly announced that he was relocating to Florida to accept a teaching position there. Claire had been devastated by the pronouncement, especially since he hadn't given her an inkling of his intentions. Not even when they had gone to Florida on vacation during the mid-semester break, and he had left her on her own for a day while he took care of what he termed personal family business. It was now clear that the family business had been an interview with the new school's administrators. There hadn't even been time to discuss it, because he was expected in Florida the following week for the start of the summer session.
Once the initial shock wore off and the summer began to wear on, Claire had tried to take it all in stride. She reminded herself that, in all their time together, David had never promised her anything more than what they had. Any promise for a more permanent future had existed only in her hopes.
While the logical part of her mind tried to concentrate on those facts, the emotional half took a far different tract - that David had been a lousy lying bastard who had used her and then tossed her aside. In the end, the emotional side had won out, but in that victory it had left her so mortified that she had retreated into a cocoon, locking most everyone out. At least until Patricia had stepped in and begun to drag her out of it. Kicking and screaming at first, symbolically if not figuratively, but then with a little less reluctance at time went by.
"Now that's better," Patricia said as Claire emerged from the bedroom wearing a dark blue, mid-length denim skirt and a white, sleeveless, button- downed blouse.
"I'm only doing this for you," Claire said as she slipped her bare feet into a pair of black loafers that she had left by the couch. "I don't want you to think that I'm unappreciative of all the things you've been trying to do for me."
"I'll take any reason as long as I get you outside these four walls," Patricia smiled.
