Chapter 28: Suits

Background color
Font
Font size
Line height

Finally, Friday night. My cozy apartment welcomes me when I stumble through the door in the evening after the nightmare of a drive through what must have been the worst downpour of the century. There's no work until Sunday afternoon; I finished grading and submitted the latest chapter of my thesis on time, and Angie's away working all weekend. That means freedom. Freedom to complete my fun to-do list of making hot tea, reading a good book, and going to bed at a decent hour.

Coffee is for a jolt of energy in the morning, but the rest of the day it's tea. M collection of teas is something Angie teases me about. I let her. Some people buy fridge magnets or plates with a picture of the destination they visited—I get teas. If I ever have a big enough apartment, my dream is to have a closet just for tea. I brew my traditional loose tea in a glass teapot and watch the liquid turn from light to dark as the tea steeps.

My comfy PJs on, warming my hands on the steaming mug, I sit on the couch with Sue Grafton's "Y is for Yesterday" I've been trying to finish for over a month when my phone buzzes.

B: I am home.

No nightcap at Linda's then. A small smile creeps onto my lips.

Me: ... and? how did the dinner go?

B: Adequately.

That sounded like trouble in paradise. I should be upset.

Me: what happened?

B: She tried to kiss me.

OMG. OMG. OMG. He did get his first kiss.

Me: ..and?

B: And nothing. I leaned away from her.

Me: why? we talked about it. it's totally OK to kiss her at this point if you are both into it.

I stumble over my fingers as I type.

B: I wasn't into it. I will not be interested in kissing at this time.

At this time? I wipe off my sweaty palms on my PJs.

Me: you aren't interested in her anymore?

B: Not as a date.

Me: did anything bad happen?

B: No. We can talk more about it tomorrow.

Me: nope. no walk. the crazy rain continues tomorrow.

B: I have been thinking about it e, and I have an idea.

My heart beats a little faster, knowing he didn't want to skip Saturday morning time together.

Me: and what is it?

B: We should still exercise. Come here for a swim . After you can help me cook. I'm taking lunch to my parents.

I choke on the tea I'm sipping. It sprays out of my nose all over the open book on my lap. I reach for a napkin with one hand and type with my other hand while wiping up the mess.

Me:???

B: You said you like swimming, and you know I always cook lunch for my parents on Saturday. It will be our chance to discuss my dinner with Linda.

B: Then you come with me to visit my parents, Tall will be there too, and you mentioned you wanted to meet him.

Ben can be persuasive when he wants something. He has an answer for everything, and it's hard to argue against the fact he presented: I do love swimming, but we won't be able to talk about Linda while swimming, and meeting Tall's too much of a temptation to decline the invitation. Plus, to me, the fact he spent time concocting the plan means he cares.

Me: OK

B: OK, to all of it?

Me: yes. send me your address.

The address is in the Lake Shore East district in a unique Aqua building practically on the water. I immediately google it and pick my jaw off the floor when I see the rent for a two-bedroom: twice the amount Angie and I are paying. The high-end apartment complex and the building's amenities I see online explain Ben's highfalutin talk about money.

A modern fitness room sparkles with chrome, and mirrors and the indoor pool looks bright and welcoming. A tan lady in a big hat and tiny bikini lies on a chaise-lounge by the outdoor pool. Bikini. Dammit. I'll need to wear a swimsuit and expose my body that hasn't seen the sunlight this summer, or the last one, and is probably a size bigger than when I bought my latest swimsuit. Which was? Mom's wedding.

I find the chic one-piece in the stuff I never unpacked from Dad's apartment, tucked away in my closet. She really tried that summer amid her wedding preparations to take me to the beach and the shopping-spree included helping me pick out a bathing suit. This can not be my only option. Can I run out tomorrow morning and buy one before the 8am time Ben and I agreed on? Probably not. I don't have a fashionista room-mate for nothing.

Me: do you have a swimsuit I can borrow?

Angie: Lucky you got me between the sets. Look in a green duffle under my bed.

Me: it's your skiing gear.

Angie: Right! It's the black canvas bag on top of the closet.

Me: found it, you're the best.

Angie: I know. You better remember it.

Me: need your help choosing one.

Angie: Going back on stage. . You'll figure it out.

She has five swimsuits. One looks like shoestrings, so I put that one away. The second one has tiny triangles that cover Angie's assets perfectly but will only cover my nipples. Of the three left there's only one bikini I think I can fit in. That leaves two contenders: Mom's chocolate brown one and Angie's colorful bikini. Blow out a huff of air. I hate choices. I need a tie breaker. It's Ben's pool. He's been there, he knows what people wear, what's appropriate.

Me: awake?

B: Are you backing out already?

Me: no way, no backsies. i need your opinion

B: OK.

Me: i have two swimsuits, and i can't decide which one to wear. help me choose? i have a major case of dmd right now

B: dmd? I do not know what you are talking about.

Me: it stands for decision-making disorder.

B: Sorry to hear you have to struggle with something like that, although I have never heard of it.

Me: ben, no, it's not a real thing. it's my dad's way of calling my occasional decision paralysis.

I had to stare at the screen for a couple of seconds, waiting for Ben to reply.

B: Send me photos of both, and I can help you choose.

Me: OK. hold on.

The chocolate brown swimsuit has a plunging V-neck, open back and high thigh cutouts that showed off my not too shabby legs, strategically covering up the body parts I was less confident about. The problem is it's a bit faded.

Me: taking the pictures.

B: OK.

I've never attempted to take full-body selfies. Channeling my inner Kardashian, I aim the phone's camera at the mirror in the hallway and take several shots. Those aren't going to qualify for the Swimsuit Illustrated cover but give a decent idea of what the swimsuits look like.

The bikini is next. I look at it and groan. Five inches taller than I, Angie's bra size is also a cup smaller. This bikini has a pushup bra with inserts that I removed, and it ties around the neck and back, which helps. I loosen it enough not to bust out of the top. It makes my boobs look top notch. The bottoms are boy shorts with a cord laced through both sides in an X pattern and made my legs look good. My stomach, the least favorite body part, is utterly exposed. A significant advantage is its newness and the added whimsy of the bright blue and turquoise pattern that makes me smile. I take more pictures.

Picking one photo of each suit, I hit send.

B: You are wearing swimsuits.

Me: that's what i need your help with. pick one.

B: Wearing. I thought you would take the photos of the suits, not of you in the swimsuits.

Oops? That was an option? Chills run down my back. I could've avoided the embarrassing stomach suck-in and hip-pop? And the rest of that selfie nonsense?

Me: sorry.

B: We will have to go swimming twice tomorrow. Wear one and bring the other one with you.

Me: LOL, you promised to choose one. now choose.

B: OK. I will choose but when you come swimming again next week, wear the other one.

Me: let me see how this swim date goes first.

Date. Did I just type 'date'? An utter brainfart. Ben better not read anything into it. I've been cautious calling our meetings anything but date: meetups, hangouts, walks, talks—there were many ways to avoid saying the word date.

B: I like you in both, but as I must choose, I am going with the brown one-piece.

No reaction to 'date'. I'm in the clear, but a bit surprised he chose the one piece, but relieved. It's way more comfortable.

Me: thank you for making the choice! ms. brown swimsuit accepts your rose. would you care to share why you prefer the brown one?

Unsurprisingly he ignores my 'The Bachelor' reference.

B: I love the way certain parts of your body look in it.

My cheeks heat up. He doesn't mean it. Although, he's Ben. He means exactly what he says. Which parts is he enjoying, specifically? I turn my back to the mirror. Probably the butt. It's one of my best features. Legs are looking good as well. Not that I would ever ask, but he'd probably answer. Tempting. So tempting. What do I do? The phone buzzes again:

B: I am probably too forward.

Me: I may need to put on a coat on top.

B: A joke. Good. I didn't cross your boundaries this time.

Me: oh, you most definitely did, but i am choosing to let it slide. see you bright and early.

B: I will meet you in the lobby. Bring a towel, flip flops, and any shower items you may need. I have shampoo, conditioner, body wash, but if you need anything else after the swim, please pack it.

Shower. In his apartment. After the swim. I didn't think about that. Why does my brain refuse to think things through before agreeing to stuff? My heart was beating in my ears, and I regret about yet another thing I let Ben talk me into

B: You don't need to bring anything for the lunch at my parents'. I have all the ingredients already.

Yep. It's official. I'm the least forethinking person in the world. Showering at his place is bad enough, but I have to worry about meeting his parents and decide how to dress for that.

Me: how fancy should I dress for lunch?

B: Dress casually as you would for lunch with friends. They will not care.

Maybe they won't, but I will. I don't say that to Ben, though.

Me: OK

B: Good night.

Me: gn

I need to pack a bag, decide on my outfit, make sure I have time to shave and figure out how long it'll take me to get there. I wasn't going to bed for another hour, at least. The extra sleep I was counting on would have to wait until another night.


You are reading the story above: TeenFic.Net