Friday, August 23, 2013

The Button

I didn’t ever explain it to him.  He wondered for years afterward, why after ending up in that hotel room, together, nothing had happened. 

Up to the last minute before I going down to reception I’d decided on the A line dress.  

We, he and I, had made a show of inviting his wife, but we had a pretty good idea she wouldn’t show.  They’d had marital problems for years and were, then, going through one of their stickiest patches.  She’d not have given a second thought to his meeting me alone because I was, after all, the wife of his best friend.  I’d never had any marital problems myself, but notwithstanding that even I had to admit the man was as fit as a butcher’s dog and so it was quite possible that he could cause me some problems along those lines in the not too distant future.

My God did I look good in that A line dress.  Then not knowing whether his wife [a jeans and track pants specialist] would be joining us I decided on a last minute change so as not to upstage her.  In a rush I pulled on the pants of a jeans suit combination and when fastening them, to my absolute horror, the button flew off.  Where it landed I could not tell.  All I knew is that I didn’t have time to find it.  Instead, away from home, and without my usual access to needle and cotton and with no time to effect repairs, I had to make do with a safety pin.  The safety pin was hidden by the slenderest of black leather belts and with that I walked quickly down to reception to meet them. Except she wasn’t there.  They’d argued, yet again, and she’d sent some shabby apology.

As he stood at the bar ordering drinks I couldn’t keep my eyes off him. After a lovely evening of drinks, idle chatter, and insufficient food, I invited him up for a hot beverage.  We flirted unashamedly and I could see he was searching for that look so he’d know it was safe to make his move.  Lack of marital problems or not I was about to give him that look, that all too well known signal, when I remembered the button, or rather the lack thereof. I had a momentary visual of him undressing me and then…  He thought me a “classy bird” to use his vernacular and so it just wouldn’t do.

So, I never did explain it to him and I never did find that flipping button.