We decide on a place and time, and Shane copies my number into his phone. When he’s finished, he beams at me. “Whoa. My day just got so good. I always love it at the library!”
I laugh at his enthusiasm. “Well, I’m not promising to be as interesting as oak trees, but I’ll try my best…”
Matilda is busy tonight on a case, but her texts are mildly encouraging. He’s tolerable, she writes, which is pretty effusive, coming from her. Much more your speed.
Since Matilda is otherwise occupied, I enlist Nina for the time-honored tradition of helping me choose an outfit for my date. Honestly, it’s a little weird being on my own with Nina; Matilda and I spend time one-on-one together because we’ve known each other longer, but I never really do anything with just Nina. I think she’s a sweetheart, but truthfully, we have little in common outside of the very big thing we have in common, which is the whole nun thing. And even then, I was a sister for five years, whereas Nina left when she was still a novitiate, so there’s also that divide between us. Plus, as nice as she is, Nina always feels a little removed, like she doesn’t want to let anyone in too close. In a group of three, this isn’t that big of a deal, especially since Matilda often takes over the conversation anyway; but one on one…
#Awkward
“Do you want anything to eat or drink?” I ask, only realizing as the words come out of my mouth that I already made this offer when Nina first arrived. The answer was no, since Nina is planning to eat with her family when she gets home and since she always carries around a water bottle (how practical!). Not wanting to seem as if I just forgot (which I definitely did), I decide to add something new to the table: “I made brownies the other day…?”
Nina looks up from the clothes she’s perusing, giving me a small smile and a firm shake of her head. “No, thanks. I had that muffin yesterday.”
For a moment I just stare at her, not sure how to compute what I just heard. Is Nina suggesting that because she ate something sweet yesterday, she’s somehow filled her quota—for what, a few days? The whole week? That sounds like crazy talk. Then again, Nina is delicate and perfectly proportioned, so maybe she’s onto something. Something that I don’t particularly care to emulate, butsomething.
As I struggle for something else to say, Nina clears her throat quietly. “What were you planning on wearing?”
I truly haven’t given it much thought beyond the instinctive stress I feel at the decision. “Clothes…?”
Another small smile from Nina. “You should wear something you feel good in. Comfortable.”
“So, a muumuu?”
“Not that comfortable.” There is an unexpectedly sassy edge to Nina’s tone—a very quiet, muted sass, but sass nonetheless. She bites her lip, concentrating deeply as she pulls out a few items from my closet: a sweater dress, some boots, and a belt.
I stare at the ensemble. It’s the kind of thing I would think is cute on anyone else, but that would make me feel incredibly exposed. The dress is fairly conservative, as far as dresses go, but with the belt…that’s a lot of waist action happening there. Not to mention the exaggerated emphasis on boobs and booty.
“I usually wear my cardigan with that,” I tell her, reaching for an oversized, mustard-yellow cardigan, with an extra button at the top so I can feel all nice and snuggly and covered.
Nina reaches out a hand, stopping me. “Not tonight.”
Her voice is quiet and firm—so firm, in fact, that I can only gape back at her. “Not tonight?” I echo.
Nina shakes her head. “No.”
Nervously, I eye the outfit again. “I think the belt might be too much.” Without the belt, the dress will be looser and I might not feel so conspicuous if my shape isn’t showing.
“It won’t be.” Again, the firm voice. This is a side to Nina that I’ve never experienced before, and I would probably like it, if it weren’t directed at me.
Before I fully know what’s happening, Nina ushers me into the bathroom with the outfit in hand. It only takes me a few minutes to change, but I linger behind the locked door, half hoping Nina might just get bored and leave.
“Helen?” Nina’s muffled voice snuffs out that hope. “How does it look?”
I wordlessly open the door so Nina can see for herself. Nina takes me in quietly, critically, before meeting my gaze and giving me one of her little nods. “That’s a date outfit.”
“Are you sure it’s not too…?” I almost say the word “slutty” but stop myself. I don’t like that word, and it isn’t something I would use about anyone else, truthfully. At the library I see all kinds of people—people who wear way less than this dress covers—and I never think of them as being slutty. But for some reason I’ve always been more critical with myself. “Is it trying too hard?” I ask instead.
“It’s perfect,” Nina reassures me. And it’s so unlike my young friend to express an opinion of any kind so intentionally, that I find I have no choice but to go along with it.
Chapter 12
Helen
Iimmediately regret the decision to wear the outfit Nina picked as soon as I’m out of the house, on my way to meet Shane at the taqueria we agreed upon. As if the clothes weren’t enough of a step outside my comfort zone, Nina also persuaded me into a bold eye shadow and a jaunty little half pony that I never would have attempted on my own. It turns out Nina is sort of pushy, but in a sneaky, quiet way that ambushes a person out of the blue. Like some kind of fashion ninja…?
As I wait for Shane inside La Chaparrita, I’m half tempted to leave on my big puffy coat so no one can see my outfit. If it weren’t for how crowded the front room is, and therefore how warm it is with so many bodies filling the space, I might do it, too. But the thought of sweating through my dress finally forces me into taking off my coat. Surprisingly, there is no spontaneous sex riot at the sight of me in a formfitting outfit. I relax a little, reasoning to myself that the dress is a bigger deal to me than it is to anyone else. Shane probably won’t even notice.
Then again, he’s one minute late. Two, now. Maybe he won’t show up at all! The thought is strangely relieving.
