Just Desserts

by Adrienne Koch

Aaralyn finished her last bite of pasta, trying to hide her excitement about the upcoming evening from her roommates. One had to be stealthy about these sorts of private encounters.

"Thanks for dinner. C'ètait magnifique," she said, putting fingers to mouth in a mock French flourish.

"What're you up to tonight?" Megan inquired as they cleared the dishes together while the other roommates sauntered off to watch TV.

"Oh, just some editing I have to finish before my client's latest deadline," Aaralyn answered, inserting a sigh and a roll of the eyes for effect, and turning to heat up water for cocoa.

"Poor you. Ya know, you should really get out more. There's a vibrant city out there!"

"I know. And I will, don't worry. But first I have to—"

"Yeah, I know, you have to finish the editing. Is there going to be a break between this project and the next? Maybe you can pencil me in for a night of debauchery. We haven't gone out dancing in ages, or even out drinking for that matter."

Aaralyn smiled. "It's a date. Next break I get." Seeing that her roommate was satisfied with this, she turned on her heel and walked calmly to her room, closing and locking the door behind her.

At last, she could prepare for the night she'd been waiting for. Putting the cocoa down, she made a mental plan of attack. First, music. Flipping through her collection, she came upon Dave Matthews, Sting, Morcheeba, Ani Difranco, Maktub. Flip. The Beatles. Flip. Miles Davis, Chris Botti. Not quite right for tonight. Soundtracks, techno, ambient…and the section of CDs she'd burned herself. Ah, yes. "Perfect."

She danced to her closet, shedding clothes on the way. "Bye bye sweats, hello cat suit," she thought, smiling and undulating to Conjure 1, which she'd turned up just loud enough so her roommates couldn't hear what she was doing. She slithered into the figure–hugging stretch body suit she'd bought just for such rare occasions.

Putting her hair up, "I Dream of Jeannie" style, she sang along with the vocals and misted herself with mango perfume she'd gotten at The Soap Box, one of her favorite shops at Pike Place. Nice scents always put her in a better mood.

Her cell phone rang. She opened it. Flip. "Are you ready already?" teased a familiar voice. Her friend Evan was on the other end, somewhat inebriated. He was begging, pleading, pressuring her to come out to the party he'd found, tempting her with descriptions of the various alcohols within his reach. "Silly, you know I'm not coming out until Saturday, when I'm done editing."

"Sigh. Okay, Ms. Freelance Editor. Who knew that while making your own hours you'd still be this busy? Anyway, I know you detest guilt trips, so I won't go there tonight. Just thought it was worth a shot."

"Thanks for trying, Evan. It shows me how much you care," she retorted, barely disguising the sarcasm.

"I'm so gonna kick your butt when we go out this weekend."

"I'm shaking in my boots."

"Ooooh, are you wearing boots? Are you wearing anything e—"

"Bye, Evan." Flip.

She smiled, applying some lip gloss.

Turning off her computer, she noticed she had new mail messages waiting for her. "Later," she said, lighting some candles, and then proceeded to do a few yoga stretches. When she felt relaxed, she looked at her watch, then took it off and dropped it into a drawer.

Aaralyn looked around the room, making sure everything was in order. She opened her roll top desk and sat down. In front of her was a stack of college ruled paper, a pen and two pencils. She settled in to write while she waited for her guest.

Suddenly, rethinking her earlier choices, she jumped up, reaching for Enya's latest album and popped it in. She let her hair down, allowing it to spill around her shoulders and down her back-much better. In her closet she found her favorite top—a white, billowy cotton shirt. Throwing it on over her bodysuit, she opened a window. Fresh air spilled in, a slight breeze caressing her. She moved her writing materials to her bed, and making herself more comfortable, curled up there, resting her eyes for a few moments.

As the city around her fell quiet, the night opened up before her. She could accomplish anything she put her mind to, venture anywhere her heart desired, and was on a natural high, knowing it. She looked forward to the future, had come a long way since her past, but didn't dwell in either. No, Aaralyn had found her center. She lived in, and for, the moment; this moment was hers and hers alone.

Suddenly, a knock on the door startled her out of her reverie—but it was a knock she'd been expecting. She opened it, welcoming her guest—the only one she wanted.

"You look simply divine this evening," she said as they embraced. "It's been way too long." Swiftly she was picked up, swirled around, and ever so gently, placed on her bed. Their union lifted her out of time and place. She felt like she'd been carried away, graciously transported into ecstasy. There, she touched down and began to write. She considered the last few moments, and smiled a silent thank you to her guest—Inspiration.

In addition to writing and editing, Adrienne Koch co–owns a pet care business in Kitsap County. She has been published in Manashtash Magazine, Subversive Secretaries, Ebbing Tide, Dazzling Mica, and Love Letters of a Lifetime: Romance in America. Visit Adrienne's site www.editorgirl.com.