Chapter 19: The Goldilock’s Syndrome
The room is a sea of clothes, no matter where one looks one sees blouses, skirts, dresses, shoes, belts, scarves, nylons, and almost anything else a woman could wear. At first glance one would think the house was looted. Yet, upon closer examination one notices all the clothes are neatly displayed. If it wasn’t a bedroom one might conclude it was a rummage sale. Yet, many women have seen this scene more than they would like to admit.
Claudia sighed and looked into the almost empty closet. She was certain the right outfit existed, but so far it had eluded her. Austin would be over in a matter of hours, yet there was so much still to do.
Each outfit she tried on had some major flaw. This dress was too provocative, that one revealed too much cleavage. This skirt was too business-like, that one should be worn by a nun. These pants are too old, those are too tight.
The problem for Claudia was the outfit she chose must not only look nice, but send the right message. The outfit had to walk the thin line between being pretty but not quite seductive. She wanted Austin to find her attractive, maybe even to want her, but not to be totally focused on her body.
She wanted this evening to be about talking, resolving differences and acquiring an understanding. She wanted their discussions to be warm, but serious. She wanted them to be a new beginning, whereby they could start to rebuild their friendship, if not their marriage. Even though the entire week she found herself fantasizing their ending the evening in bed, she told herself she did not want that to happen.
Holding a royal blue silk blouse in one hand, she scouted around the room for a pair of pants which would do it justice. Since nothing leapt out at her, she returned her gaze to the blouse. She decided its shimmering blue color would be flattering, and since it was long sleeved, and if she buttoned all but the top button it would be appropriate.
Walking about the room she quickly excluded all the pants on the floor and the bed as feasible contenders. She stopped at the black pants draped over the night stand for a moment, but decided its shiny fabric was too much. When she walked over to the pair of black corduroy pants displayed on the dresser she leaned over and placed the silk blouse against the pants. In Claudia’s estimation, the black corduroy pants were new and snug enough to be attractive, but fell way short of seductive. The pant’s fabric seem to contrast and even tone down the allure of the silk. “Finally”, Claudia mumbled to herself, and she quickly found a matching belt and socks. Though she planned on their staying out of sight, Claudia couldn’t resist picking out Austin’s favorite black silk bra and undies to complete the outfit.
Next Claudia busied herself returning the contents of her closet and drawers which were displayed about the room. Occasionally Claudia interrupted her work to reconsider an article of clothing which caught her eye. Yet, it soon became apparent to her that no combination would oust her hard earned decision to wear the royal blue blouse and black pants.
After hanging tonight’s outfit in the bathroom, Claudia walked to the kitchen to face the next challenge. The meal for the evening should neither be too formal nor too intimate. If it were too formal, the mood would be stiff and elegant making it difficult to engage in intimate conversation. If the meal were too informal, like if they were to eat with their fingers or be huddled on the floor together over a fondu pot, than an amorous interlude seemed probable.
Claudia was proud of how quickly she thought of having baked ziti be the main course. Of course, this decision, like every one she made thus far regarding this evening came with many reconsiderations and recurring doubts. Yet, the more she thought about it, baked ziti was a perfect middle ground between formal and informal. It would be filling, yet wouldn’t cause them to feel stuffed. Claudia knew if she ate too much she would feel tired and, therefore, incapable of enduring a long discussion.
Once you settled on the main course of an Italian dinner, decisions regarding entrees were not too difficult. Claudia knew that with baked ziti a tossed salad and garlic bread were all but mandatory. The vegetable took a few minutes, but she had little trouble choosing green beans with almonds.
Over the next ten minutes or so, Claudia checked to make sure she had everything she would need. She took out all food supplies from the refrigerator and cabinets, including spices, and placed them on the counter. She, likewise, assembled all her cooking materials and set them on the stove and counter to make sure she would have no last minute emergencies. Before she could feel her initial dinner preparation complete, she had to set the table making sure everything from bread baskets and pepper shakers were present and presentable. A few items, such as her crystal water glasses which looked dull to her, had to be thoroughly cleaned before the table could be properly set.
After she finished with the dining room, Claudia walked over to the living room. Putting her fingers to her lips, she sighed, and began contemplating what changes would need to be done to set the right mood. Walking over to the windows she drew the drapes to make the room as dark as possible. Once she was convinced she had sufficiently recreated the dark of night, she began work on the lighting.
Though her initial intuition told her candles would not provide sufficient light and create a far too intimate atmosphere, Claudia lit several candles throughout the room. Claudia disliked artificial light and so preferred candles that she brought in and lit over ten candles before she gave up on the candle idea. Turning on the overhead light, Claudia immediately decided it rendered the room too cold looking and would give her a headache after a while. Claudia considered, for a brief moment, replacing the light bulb with one with a lower wattage, but her hatred of overhead lighting quickly ended that debate.
The only alternative Claudia had left was to use lamps. In the living room she had two lamps, one a floor lamp near the couch, and the other on a table at the far end of the room near the matching chair. Even before she turned the lamps on, she knew they would not provide sufficient light.
Claudia retrieved the other two lamps she had in the house, one from the table she had in the foyer, and the other the floor lamp she used for reading while in bed. When she turned on the two lamps already in the room she did indeed conclude she needed the other lamps.
The more she looked at the couch, the more uncomfortable she became with the thought of them having an in depth conversation seated on the same sofa. Claudia retrieved the matching chair and placed it near the couch creating an intimate, yet separated, conversation space. Sitting in the chair she realized the floor lamp near the couch was rather blinding and would make it near impossible for her to see Austin’s facial expressions. After moving the chair around to various angles from the sofa, she finally concluded the floor lamp had to be repositioned.
Claudia rearranged the furniture in the room numerous times, each time positioning the lamps in various places before shifting once again. Some of the potential arrangements she only tried once, while others she returned to time and time again reviewing their relative merits and limitations. Finally, after the best workout Claudia could recall having in weeks, she settled on an arrangement of lighting and furniture she found palatable at best.
Now that the living room was sufficiently lit, Claudia began to work on the rest of the house. The darkness of the foyer was particularly difficult to resolve since it had no overhead lighting. The thought of greeting Austin at the door in almost absolute darkness was a horrifying one to Claudia. If the little table in the foyer were covered with votive lights and candles it could only conjure up a ridiculous cross, she imagined, somewhere between a whore house and a dungeon. Luckily Claudia remembered she had packed away a few oil lamps in the closet.
The light from the oil lamps proved to be far from ideal. Claudia’s only hope was to usher him in as quickly as possible before he was able to focus on how hokey the foyer looked. Claudia then imagined how she would escort him into the living room and offer him the sofa, as she would seat herself in the chair.
Claudia figured the initial greeting would be awkward enough without her having to quickly lead him into the living room. Satisfied she could do little more, Claudia returned to the kitchen for one last recheck of dinner materials before she got ready for her shower.
Claudia took a long, hot shower and spent the rest of her time cooking and making last minute touches to the dinner table. The entire time her mind was absorbed with minute decision after decision. Nothing was accepted without endless analysis. Every movement brought new questions to consider. Was this bowl too big for the pasta? Should candles be used at the dining room table, or would that be too romantic? Should there be an ice bucket at the table, or would it better to have excuses to go to the kitchen?
In between decisions, Claudia rehearsed some of the things she planned on saying. Utterly nervous over the evening’s beginning, she role played her first words from the door to the sofa numerous times. She was very wary of appearing either cold or overly happy to see him. She rehearsed every transition the evening would entail, from moving to the dinner table to saying goodnight.
While she was still struggling to find a way to gently shift the conversation over to why she left, the doorbell rang. Claudia took a deep breath and walked towards the door, feeling totally unprepared for what was about to happen.