Scaredy Cat

Chapter 4: Obstacles

***

Everly was drumming her fingers on the door of the wardrobe. She wasn't going to wear something seductive -- there was no question of sex on a first date. Actually there was no question of a second date -- Constable Olsen was too macho, not refined enough, too short. She wouldn't be seeing him at all if it weren't for the book. It was almost comical to think of the two of them naked together -- his fuzzy little buzz cut would come up to about her chest. She could probably fit his whole head between her -- well, that line of thought was going nowhere. Maybe the old beige bra and undies, just as a security measure. Even if she completely lost her head, she wouldn't be caught dead in those ones in a romantic situation. They would be a guarantee of sober second thought, a sexual senate, so to speak. She absentmindedly took out a frothy peach-coloured bra and skimpy briefs, brand new and deliciously soft, and put them on the bed as she contemplated the rest of her outfit.

It was to be elegant, this dance, and she knew most of the female students would be wearing floor-length gowns. Last year, not wishing to appear too worldly among the sixteen and seventeen-year-olds, she had worn a loose floral gown, simple and unassuming. She wouldn't make that mistake twice. The same girls who showed up for class in shapeless jeans and oversized sweaters had transformed themselves into sophisticated and sultry young women, dressed in garments that would not look out of place in a James Bond casino scene. Everly had felt positively adolescent in comparison.

This year, she had worn a dress to Simon's office Christmas party which she thought would also do nicely for the dance. It was black, with a modestly scooped neckline and sequined bodice, and a snug bolero jacket on top. At the Christmas party she had kept the jacket on all evening; tonight she would remove it when the dancing began. She would be poised and elegant -- tastefully made up and beautifully coiffed. She would be cool and unruffled, in short, she would be everything she had not been in her previous encounters with Constable Olsen. Yes, dignity would be the watchword for the evening.

She had just finished shaving one leg when the buzzer rang. She stopped. Impossible, she thought. It must be someone selling door to door, despite the No Soliciting sign at the front. Another buzz, more persistent. Cursing, she stepped out of the tub, dripping water across the floor as she ran to the intercom. "Hello?"

"Hi Everly, it's Arne."

"Arne?"

"Arne Olsen. Your date."

"I know who it is, but you're early!"

"Six-thirty -- on the button!"

"I said seven-thirty!" A pause, while Arne checked his notebook and Everly fumed.

"My mistake! I'll just wait here in the lobby for you."

Everly sighed. "Oh, come up and wait here," she said, jabbing the entry button with a wet finger. She left the door slightly open, so he could let himself in, and hurried back to the bathroom. Unbelievable.

Arne was up in a flash, apologetic and charming. "Don't hurry," he called, "I'll just mop up this water for you while I'm waiting."

Everly scowled and turned off the shower; at least she had washed before he arrived. She had not brought her clothes into the bathroom with her though, so she wrapped a towel around her body and another around her head and waited until the sound of his voice indicated that he had gone into the kitchen. It would take him a minute to find the paper towel, she thought, and in that time she could dart across the hall into the bedroom.

"Oops, excuse me, didn't mean to sneak up on you -- I didn't see any paper towel."

He gave a low whistle. "You are one good-looking woman. But I think you forgot a leg." His keen eye missed nothing.