Mirrors, Elixirs, and Bloomers

Note: All action in the story takes place among characters all over the age of 18.

*****

"Good seeing you again, Ms. Brown. Have a great night."

I ran her order of some inspirational books and some trinkets through the barcoder. "Oh, now, call me Lori, please," she said, grinning at us as she headed her wheelchair out to the parking lot.

"Uh, oh, Ok Lori, thank you and we'll see you soon."

"She is new in town?" Mom asked leaning over me from behind the counter.

"Uh, no Mom, she was my eight grade remedial reading teacher. She moved nearby, teaches now at the community college."

"She in an accident?"

"I think MS, or maybe arthritis or something," I answered.

"Oh too bad. Very pretty woman."

"She sometimes comes in with just a cane," I said, "When it's pleasant weather, her affliction is almost barely noticeable at all. I never really said anything to her until she finally recognized me as one of her former students."

"She was nice?"

"Yeah, I liked the school," I said.

"I guess you didn't miss out not having me homeschool you like your sisters."

"Right. You and the girls did a good job. Holding down business at the store with stepdad away at the missions, and having home taught my sisters alongside it all. But obviously I needed the specialization of that school, plus of course the sports."

"Yes dear," Mom replied, with a wistful smile.

I had gotten to be a little out of control for Mom and stepdad just before age twelve or so. Stopping homeschool was a bit frightening, as was starting a new school where everybody all knew each other already. Or maybe it wasn't so much I was out of control, as we know now, as it was that putting a growing boisterous teenage boy like me in that homeschool environment with Mom presiding over my sisters and I in our religious inspirational book shop was akin to shoving the proverbial square peg into a round hole. Or was it a big round peg in a square...

Mom went back into the office while I continued to man the counter, lapsing into reminisce about our recently exited customer. When she started coming into the store I wanted to say something but was hoping she would recognize me to break the ice first.

One particular spring day my oldest sister Theresa stopped by and helped out at the store a bit, "like in the old days" as she laughingly put it. Even though the family decided that I, the middle child, could be the one to live in the apartment over top the family store for time being, both sisters seemed intent on pressuring Mom into handing over ownership to them now that they were married or as was the case with the younger one (actually step sister) Vivian, engaged to a guy she met at the ministry during a mission trip.

I stepped toward the counter to look into what was going on as Theresa waited on Lori Brown and a couple other customers as well.

"Oh, so you're his sister?" I heard her ask Theresa.

"Yes, but only Ed went to the school. Viv and I were homeschooled by our Mom. We used to live over top the store but now only Ed lives up there."

"Yep, that's me Ms. Brown. You remember me from eighth grade, do you?" Theresa stepped aside to allow me to ring up her order. She was purchasing some sort of fancy-covered dream interpretation book. Although our family was of a conservative religious bent, Mom and the girls implemented a sales strategy that allowed us to offer quite an eclectic mix of titles. Yoga, paranormal, even some romance and sci-fi/fantasy to go along with predictably inspirational/motivational stuff.

She looked like she was having a good day today, nimbly navigating her way out of her store with an elegantly carved wooden cane. Tilting her face toward the door slightly and scrunching her lips together she sighed, "Oh darn, I didn't know it was supposed to rain. I'm gonna get soaked."

Theresa nudged me saying, "I can go up and grab Ed's umbrella. Let him walk you out."

"Sure," I said enthusiastically. She wore her long dark brown hair much longer than I remember during my classroom days. Perhaps she wore it up during work. Her taste in clingy colorful printed dresses flattered her still svelte statuesque figure, her lush tresses streaked with strands of gray.

Heading out the door with my umbrella in one hand covering her head, the other holding her bags, I jokingly said, "That book looks interesting."

"Yes, it does," she laughed.

"I wonder if there's anything to it all about dreams predicting our future," I ventured.

She chuckled "Let's hope it's true of the pleasanter ones. So long as that nightmares don't come true. Perhaps your families Bible studies holds some answers for you."

"Happy reading, have a good night."

"Thank you. You too, dear. Bye for now."

I closed her car door and waved as she drove off.

Back at the store, Theresa grinned, attempting to grill me about my younger years. "Were you an A student for her?"

"It was a remedial language and reading class. And a couple study halls. I did fine. She was nice. Everyone liked her," I replied solemnly.

"See you at Viv's for Sunday dinner," she said, leaving the store for the evening so I could wrap things up for another workday.

Sunday dinner involved Mom, my two sisters with the significant others and one other guest. Part of the day involved all of us video conferencing with stepdad who was doing missionary and teaching outreach in Thailand with the children of a big telecom utility there. The other guest was Brenda who works with me coaching coed kids basketball at the chapel rec center. The family wants to fix us up. Brenda sports perky short blonde hair and is tall and athletically trim, though not as soft and gently curvaceous as Miss Brown. I find her attractive in that tomboyish kind of way. She played ball at a religious school and often speaks (especially to the team members) in that fiery coach-speak manner, sprinkled with spiritually inspirational evangelically edgy rhetoric. So I don't know how far I'd get with her, but she is in the wholesale book business and so the family likes the profit angle of me schmoozing her. Her specialty is athletic titles, coach guides, some martial arts. Monday was gonna be a long day of doing business with her at our bookshop followed by a hoops tournament that evening.

As expected, the big announcement concerned Mom's plans to husband and stepfather over in Thailand. It's a somber occasion as she doesn't necessarily want to go but there is suspicion of him being "involved" with someone over there, shall we say. Soon however, after the men started pulling away from the table to admirably assist Viv with after meal clean-up, conversation shifted to my goings on and particularly that teacher frequently seen shopping at our bookstore.

"How old would she be," inquired Theresa.

"She was not too soon outta college when I had her, so probably ten or twelve years or so," I answered.

"You stayed after school a lot," giggled Viv, "I bet you were the teachers pet, huh?"

"Seems nice, very pretty. Hobbling around on a cane maybe makes her look a bit older " Mom interjected as everyone rejoined the table to sip coffee and tea.

The comments made me twist my lips together a bit irritably. "Well, I did have a lot of remedial work but also played sports."

"She married," Brenda asked.

"No, never been I think. Lives alone far as I know." I said.

"Well Ed here went through formal schooling but you sisters were home tutored and yet you all turned out great, so..." interjected Theresa's husband Roy.

Brenda inserted an after-dinner mint in her mouth, gently glanced over and touched me on the arm before speaking. "Some of these academic types" she began in her subtle Southern twang, "When I played basketball and soccer at the college, there was this physiology grad assistant who worked as a trainer and assistant coach. Helga, I think she was foreign grad student... Hungarian, I think. I used to cramp up a lot late in games and she, uh, administer treatment, tape my ankles and all."

She glanced up at me smiling somewhat nervously, "Well, on the massage table she seemed a little too, uh, fixated on my tushie!"

The men kinda rolled their eyes, while Mom tilted her head back in kind of a disapproving way while the girls let out a collective sigh of mild disdain.

As I started wondering why she was telling this, as if it were confessional or maybe wanting covertly for me and the others to feel somewhat titillated, Viv prodded, "So how'd you handle that?"

"It was really cold during a soccer match. So I wore a pair of shorts under my uniform shorts that laced up tight in the back. I cramped up and got subbed out late in the game and went into the locker room where she was getting ready to work on me on the massage table. She's talking all sweet to get me to relax and then reached under the waistband of my soccer shorts and starts tugging on the lacing underneath. So I look back at her and say, 'No, no, no, Helga honey' and she's like 'Uh oh.' And I say "God can see your handiwork Helga!"

Everyone kinda giggled nervously and then there was a bit of a pregnant pause. She continued, "She was kinda cold and aloof with me after that, as you might expect. She left the college at the end of the year."

Mom quickly tried to change subjects, "So you are meeting with Ed at the store tomorrow? Before basketball?"

"Right, got some interesting new books for us, do ya Brenda?"

She nodded at me "Yep, Eddie, busy day tomorrow!"

Monday back at the store, indeed Mom and Brenda kept me busy going over wholesale book orders and all the paperwork that it entails. Later on in the afternoon we had Lori come in again.

"Your favorite teacher's here," Mom said smiling over at Brenda leaning against the stacks of health and fitness titles.

She was using her chair today, a lightweight blue chrome sporty looking thing.

"It's a type of arthritic condition," she explained as I waited on her and helped fill her bags with some books. This time the titles concerned dream interpretation, as usual, plus some subjects related to reincarnation, people with past lives played out during Victorian times, etc.

"After several days of cold very humid weather, my body tends to become tight and a lot less mobile she said with a sigh. Ah, I want to show you something," she pulled out some paperwork from her handbag. "I noticed you have meeting room space back there. My woman's group needs a place to hold our next event."

She smiled and handed me one of the brochures, "Kind of like an historical themed costume party."

The brochure had artwork and pictures of women and models dressed in 19th century period clothing. The title said: "Of Bloomers, Chemises & Corsets: Behind The Victorian Women's Wardrobe Closet Door."

"Uh that looks interesting," I said.

"There might be a dozen of us or so."

"Ok."

"Maybe I can come by middle of the week and you can show me around back there and get things set up for maybe Thursday or Friday?"

"Sure, Mom and I can pull something together for you."

Mom and Brenda came over toward us and Lori smiled again and handed them each a copy of the brochure.

"Come take a walk back there with me," and Mom motioned for her and Lori to take a look at the meeting room in back of the shop.

Brenda glanced at the illustrations on the brochure and smiled up at me with that odd sort of eye-rolling expression she showed last night at dinner during her training room massage table story, "I'd like us to offer these books for sale to players in the rec league. I think some of the players could really use 'em," she said, pointing out a couple titles relating to basketball strategy and tactics.

"Nice," I replied.

She started to gather up her things to leave the shop for the day, just as Lori and Mom came back out. I introduced them to each other and they exchanged brief "nice-to-meet-you's."

"See you at the game tonight, Eddie," Brenda said.

"Right, I'll be there."

Mom headed to the back office to tend to some computer work while I finished up with Lori at the counter so I could walk her to her car.

"Thanks a bunch for helping with our event," she said settling in behind the wheel while I gave her hand with folding her wheelchair in the storage area right behind her. Brenda waved by to us as she drove off.

"She family, er or you two just work together or what? You ever get married?" she asked in a rather joking manner.

"She sells us books through our store and we coach rec league basketball together. I think Mom and my sisters wants to hook us up," I answered in a somewhat sarcastic tone.

"Maybe she'd like to join our group at some point, "Lori continued, Say do you remember my friend Maureen, er Nurse Walters? She retired but is also part of the Victorian fashion group coming to you. We used to be roommates for a little while when I was first getting settled into the area."

"Oh, yeah. I remember her helping out the coaches and stuff with our school teams."

"Yep, well thanks again and good night!" she closed the door and drove off.

Later that evening, I arrived a bit later, allowing Coach Brenda to get everything started. There was to be a women's game, followed by a masters class coed game, and then a men's game. But Coach felt all frazzled and had to cancel the women's game. Some sort of bickering between two gossipy women on opposite teams and some arguing amongst the referees and coaches had taken place just as I arrived.

"I just don't know bout people these days," Brenda shaking her head as she filled and dragged off some equipment bags. She straightened up with her hands curled up on her hips and smiled as she brushed at her perky blonde bangs, "No respect for authority. No self discipline these days. And some of those bitches on the Hightown team could use an ass whuppin.'"

I smiled up at her from my metal chair not knowing how to respond to this same touchy subject matter she had brought up at dinner over the weekend. She certainly had a cute tight backside accentuated by that track outfit. I couldn't help but wonder if she'd be suggesting a need for someone like me to administer some tough love!

"I need to give a few of 'em a talking to next round," blowing the whistle to end the sessions for the evening, "If you don't mind putting the rest of equipment away in the meantime, I'd much appreciate," she requested of me with a cheery smile.

"Ok, sure."

Bright and early the next day was to include the meeting with Lori's Victorian ladies group for part of the agenda. A half dozen of them arrived with tons of hat boxes, dress racks and mannequins. Maureen, a school nurse was one of them. She was a short kinda plump freckly faced middle aged gal with a hyper high pitched voice. Lori towered over her and, even after all these years, and despite some medical issues appeared a bit younger than her old friend.

Even though Mom did most of the helping out with the ladies, it all still worked out to be a hectic day. The event was to go off very much like a Victorian runway show. We set up a couple full length mirrors, long tables, AV ports and sound equipment. There was only a smallish lavatory in addition to the full bath in my upstairs apartment so I we joked a bit about how they'd all manage with those large hooped-skirted period costumes. So good luck with that I thought to myself.

On top of it all I had to hurry back and forth out to the front desk for routine customer service. What's more, Brenda was up and down the stairs poking in and out of my apartment due to some snafu with her companies new book series. Apparently there were some erroneously placed pictures or texts in the latest edition youth basketball manuals and she needed to go back and forth to examine some of the old copies I had stored on my bookshelves.

"I need to go to that book and craft expo with Brenda the day of the fashion show, so you'll need to go it alone."

"Viv can't make it either?" I replied, but wasn't too concerned, as Lori and Maureen seemed to nod in approval over me handling things for the evening.

Lori nudged Maureen and laughingly interjected, "He'll be fine. We might even let him get a peek at the fashion show!." Maureen rolled her eyes playfully.

So all in all I left work that evening fairly exhausted yet my imagination ran wild a bit over the sort of flirty feistyness I'd experienced from Ms. Lori Brown and maybe even Brenda over the past couple days. Fixed myself a quick sandwich some coffee and a little ginger brandy with a lemon twist. I often have one of those days lately of being too tired to eat or even get myself off to bed, yet too fatigued to feel like doing anything else. Viv's guy recommended the brandy for relief of having to get up in the middle of the night, only to want to sleep in when time to rise for work.

As been the case the past few months, my sleep was interrupted by some sort of strange dream again. I slept Ok, and this one was odd, but given the circumstances of the last couple days very exciting. Lori and Brenda and Maureen were in the gym involved in some sort of wheelchair basketball game that they had me refereeing and/or coaching at some point. They were playing with maybe three other old ladies, a three on three affair it seemed, all decked out in clingy red or black jumper uniforms. The chairs were of the clunky hospital issue variety. A loud whistle blew and everyone departed.

As I headed to a locker room to use the bathroom, I happened by Lori and Brenda sitting in a huge cast iron whirlpool tub of some kind. Kind of monstrous looking with boiler room type gauges and all noisy and steamy. Lori leans back and smiles at me as Brenda gets out completely naked with her back toward me to fiddle with the nobs and gauges. Lori motions to direct Brenda's attention to me standing behind her and just then huge bubbles begin swirling amid steam wafting all around us with a loud steady wooshing sound of rushing waters.

And at that the phone rings and I awaken!

Sleepy eyed but confused yet aroused at first, I got dressed and checked the answering machine before going downstairs to open the store. It was Lori:

"Hi, Eddie. Can't wait for our show tomorrow. Listen, our little group got hold of an antique victrola. The kind with the big horn speaker you see in old time movies and stuff. I'd like to donate it to your family's store. So let me know if you want it cause it could fetch a nice price at an auction maybe. Have a great day. See you soon. Bye for now."

That morning I returned her call and she told me that Maureen would drive her over to bring the victrola.

It was a rather chilly day and she was looking jovial but a bit tired as she was using her wheelchair and cane with Maureen's able, cheerful assistance. We placed the victrola in the conference/showroom. I remarked that since the sound system we set up worked so well that it looked good as a visual prop and maybe eventually I might move it to my upstairs resident afterwards.

She ran her long slender fingers seductively over and around the horn of the victrola and said, "I'm glad you enjoy it. Thanks so much for all your help. She moved her wheelchair in closer, tugged on my arm to pull my closer to kiss me on the cheek. "See you tomorrow night," she said as Maureen stood by, giggling softly.

The night of the big show, I woofed down a quick sandwich and coffee while working the front counter. However, the group themselves did provide some refreshments that they allowed me to nibble on while they moved to the back. About a dozen of them all were all decked out in lavish retro 19th century garb. Lori was wheeled in by her assistant Maureen in a special wheeled whicker wheelchair that was most likely a replica of the ones that existed back then. Unlike Maureen, who wore a small pillbox type hat, Lori and a big grandiose one with a wide sweeping brim. She looked gorgeous and the wheelchair set things off in a way that made her look like royalty, as if she were on a wheeled throne moving amid her obedient hand maidens.