A Curious Affair by Melanie Jackson

Author:Melanie Jackson [Melanie Jackson]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9780428505018
Publisher: Dorchester Publishing Co., Inc.
Published: 2008-03-18T04:00:00+00:00

Queendom Come answered my couture prayers that morning—and at a steep discount, too. The sales rack in the back of the shotgun-style store rendered up two great dresses and a form fitting cashmere sweater in pigeon-blood red.

The dresses were both very different but shared one thing in common: while they would have been great in New York or San Francisco, they were a fashion risk for a store in our homespun town. I wondered how they had ended up here. Usually our merchants were more careful in their selections. Perhaps it was a special order that someone had rejected when they tried it on.

The first gown was a Joseph Ribkoff, a draping, black, burnt-out velvet, and possibly peeled off a flamenco dancer—probably by a handsome bullfighter lost in a moment of passion. I looked in the three-way mirror and saw a dress that outlined all my erogenous zones and lifted my breasts up into an anatomically impossible position for anyone over eighteen. It screamed sex and yet still struck me as a power frock. Only a woman who was very sure of herself would wear anything that sensually unapologetic. I took a small breath and then unzipped.

The other dress was by Save The Queen, imprinted with a phallic body-length graphic of the Eiffel Tower on lycra of antique gold and copper. Again, it was a dress for someone bold and fearless and unafraid of their sensuality. I felt that I needed both frocks. Not that I was actually having sex with anyone, or planned on having a series of hot dates with anyone in particular. It was the power and confidence the clothes exuded that attracted me. I had been lacking in both for a very long time. These garments, vested with the assurance of their designers, would help me be strong the next time I went into the world as a woman rather than a widow.

I turned back and forth on tiptoes, looking at myself from every angle.

Of course, I probably would date again—eventually. Hormones would drive me to it. Booze and pills—and memories of a lost love—were never meant to be a permanent substitute for sex. Nor did I want the sodden life of the permanently soused. Molly and Dell were all the example I needed to convince me of this. Still.

“I’ll take them,” I said to the new girl hovering outside the dressing room before I could change my mind. I winced a little at the total bill when it was rung up on the old black and gold register, but was determined to have something that I really wanted. It was the first time I had really wanted anything since Cal died. I looked at that as a good sign.

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