Something Borrowed

I couldn't hardly sit still.

I knew Tora would be walking through the door in less than 10 minutes. It was her birthday. She would be expecting a surprise from me - not necessarily wanting one. She had asked me several times in the past weeks, what I was up to.

I would just feign innocence and mischievously say, "I'm up to you," then paw at her sinewy thighs.

I was excited. I think it is only natural for the one who is planning a surprise to have all the expectations.

One way or another I had been planning this night since our first date, the night we went to Le Chance. That first night I already knew what I wanted from Tora - before she walked in the door. I had only seen her once before and briefly at that, but lust had been a overriding emotion. On Tora's birthday, the excitement and desire was the same, perhaps more.

That first night Tora had wore an outfit she had created from an oversize tuxedo. She had altered the the pants into shorts. Forgoing the traditional shirt she wore a sheer camisole instead. I requested the same outfit, "with different underwear if you like." It was a joke since I had stretched the elastic out of the pair she had worn that first night.

Tora had said she didn't want anything or to do anything special for her birthday. She thought that my request for the tux meant I was planning a night on the town. A quiet evening alone with me was all she wanted. I planned to give her that wish and more.

I planned for us to spend the evening (and, hopefully, weekend) in my apartment. My lease was up in five days and it would be one of the few nights we had left to stay here. Most of my belongings were now at Tora's place. The fact that we were going to be living together only gave my surprise evening more importance.

All that remained at my apartment was my bed, the microwave, cleaning supplies and personal necessities (toothbrush, make-up, etc.) There were also a couple of other items that only recently found their way into my apartment.

In the refrigerator was a bottle of champagne. With the champagne was Chinese food that I had ordered earlier. In the living room were two champagne glasses with our names engraved on them, that I had purchased for the occasion. Next to the glasses was a three-tiered cake.

Everything was in its place. I sat on two milk crates beside the cake and glasses. The overhead light was still on, but two candles flickered in opposite corners of the room.

I had moisture welling up between my legs, like tears of joy, uncontrollable, yet hardly embarrassing. I sat there, knees together, holding a bouquet.

My heart was reverberating to a much faster beat than the organ music coming from the boom box in my bedroom.

I was wearing the wedding dress I had been married in over ten years ago. I had kept it in storage since. I never stopped to rationalize the reason for keeping it. Even when marriage ended I believed that I would never use it again. When your husband divorces you, because he found you in bed with one of his friends, a woman, you never suspect you will be wearing a white wedding dress again.

Tora had told me that she was jealous of my marriage. She had never felt a need to be with a man, nor had she desired to walk down the aisle dressed in white. But she said, "It means I never got to have a wedding night, let alone a honeymoon."

That wish seemed somewhat funny to me since it came from the same woman who referred to my one year marriage as, "too long a ride on a broomstick." And if she was feeling a bit caustic she would add, "...even for a witch."

When I picked up the dress from the dry cleaner, the clerk asked about an impending marriage. "More to consummate one, really," I mumbled.

The clerk either ignored what I said or didn't understand, because he replied, "Oh, well, I hope you get lots of presents. Are you the bride?"

"Yes," I said and giggled.

Tora knocked and I told her to come in. As soon as she saw me the look in her eyes quickly went from surprise to absolute raw obsession.

She turned off the light and came over to me. Tora took my hand and I stood up. Pulling me close we began to dance slow. The room filled with the pungent smell of two women overcomed with ardor.

Wrapped in each other's arms swaying to organ music, the candles were no longer the only things burning in the room.

For the next two days we played honeymoon.