Surprise

She undid the towel wrapped around her modest frame and placed on the hook next to her shower. Sliding the curtain aside, she gingerly dipped her right foot into the bathtub, and she was instantly greeted with the warmth of the water as it enveloped around her.

Letting out a long breath, she placed her left foot inside and nestled down into the bath. She could feel the intensity of heat as the water brushed up against her shivering body.

The weather outside was always unpredictable and today was no different. It was supposed to be warm outside, but instead she had worn so many layers of clothing to school she thought it was ridiculous. Why do those weathermen get paid if they can't tell us what I have to wear?

Ah well, that was the worries of earlier today, and those thoughts slipped easily into the background of her mind.

To the forefront emerged a lone figure, and he was not at all a stranger to her. Not a stranger to occupying her thoughts that is.

While she had never technically crossed paths with him, she felt a closeness she could not put into words.

And trust in the fact she had tried to do so on many an occasion. He had fallen into her lap through the circuits and static of the information superhighway. And she has not let him stray from her ever since, though that has been quite the challenge.

She chuckled at that thought, as her right thigh emerged from underneath the water and her hands absently ran soap across her smooth skin.

As she continued to wash her legs, she could not help but notice the uneasy feeling in her gut. Her abdomen was completely tied in knots, and she felt as if someone had unleashed a bevy of butterflies within her.

Hardly could she really complain at the fluttering that occupied her tummy, as she has long since had this sort of feeling for anyone, let alone someone she had not physically met.

Someone she could touch.

Look into his eyes.

Someone she could hold.

Place his hand within her own.

Someone she could simply see.

Inhale the rarity of his presence.

She had waited for so long, playing an extended game of cat and mouse with her quarry. Though at this stage, truth be known, she was uncertain if she was not in fact the one being hunted.

The thrill of the chase. Of the hunt.

And it was nearing its end.

The final stanza.

Climax.

She turned her attention to her shoulders, and then spreading the suds across the length of her arms.

What will he be like?

Will he be all that she has hoped for?

All that he has seemed to be?

This wasn't something she really did often. Yeah, sure, she had met people online and even ventured out to meet them before. A couple here and there. However, when it comes right down to it, those encounters have never lived up to her expectations.

For the most part, each episode has been one she would rather forget than hold on to for even the length of time it takes to brush her teeth. Oh, she thought, I need to make sure to do that before I go.

It was unusual for her to think the first time they would meet would be at night and she very well may spend the entirety of it with him.

She considered that for a moment. Doesn't that sound awful?

Who in their right mind meets someone for the first time and stays the night? What does that say to him about her? What does it speak of about her in general?

She buried her face in her hands, and after a few moments she just started laughing at herself.

It turned out to be quite the chuckle, and while she attempted to recover by closing her eyes and resting her head on the back of her bathtub, a loud shrill echoed throughout the bathroom startling her.

Her phone.

She reached out of the tub, grabbed the towel, and as she dried her hand she flipped open her cell phone. As she went to place the phone to her ear while still clutching into it with her towel, the phone slipped from her grasp. As it fell softly on the mat, she scooped it up and realized it was him.

"Sorry! I dropped you."

Oh, jeesh. What a klutz she was.

"I hope you don't mean for tonight?" was his reply.

He always was like that. So in control. He came across so cool, calm, and collected.

It only heightened her already intense fascination with him.

"No! Definitely not! I mean, of course we're still on for tonight, right?"

She stammered out her reply, the cool air leaking in through the bathroom door she had carelessly left slightly ajar.

"I can think of no better way to spend my evening than with your company, sweetheart. So I hope today went well? How was class?"

He was using that voice.

God, he always got to her with it. He was doing it on purpose, this she knew, and it was already starting to drive her wild.

It was so low and soothing. Almost hypnotic with the way he spoke. He had gotten her to say and do quite a few things she never thought she would using this voice. Grrrr!

"What's with the voice," she inquired playfully, hoping to provoke him, "you know what it does to me."

She could have sworn she heard him laugh, but if she did it was so abbreviated that she left it alone.

"I'm just trying to find out how your day went, dear, I thought that was something you liked about me?"

What a tease. He always did this, playing her own words back on her. Daring her to a battle of wits, a game in which he adored engaging in, but above all else one he absolutely loved winning.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. It was okay. I had to teach again today, and I really enjoyed the outcome of the lesson plan I made. I think it was well-received."

She tried to stay on topic, something he made difficult, as she began to drip dry in her bathroom.

Continuing in his awfully enticing voice, he said, "Well, that's good. Would that be the lesson plan you almost didn't finish?"

At which point he began whistling as if he was innocent of any treachery.

Of course, he was not.

"Oh, right, as if you had nothing to do with that. You know between school, work, and trying to sleep it was hard enough. Add you into the mix and I'm worn out!" she stated firmly but with an excited hint in her tone.

He smiled on the other end.

A smile for none to see.

"So you're saying I have worn you out, are you?"

The smile gone. Now he was grinning widely on the other end of the line.

"Yeah, that was lame. So you mentioned you had a request for me to wear?" she inquired with great consternation and an abundance of trepidation.

"I do."

Hmmmm. What was he up to?

"Okay. Well, what is it?"

He wasted no time in replying.

"What are your measurements. I will have a few gifts for you when you arrive later this evening."

She got very quiet. Unsure how to accept this statement and in what way to process it, she was at a loss for words. What was he up to? She doesn't just tell anyone her size! And what were their plans anyway? He always hinted at a surprise she'd love, and he'd never come off his stance of not sharing any information on what that was.

"So? What are they, sweetheart?"

She gave in.

His voice.

Intoxicated with his smooth delivery and tantalizing personality, she rattled off the figures and asked once more what his plan was.

"You'll see tonight. I'll expect you at not a moment after 8 o'clock, deal?"

"Deal."

"Guess you better hurry up and finish getting ready then, huh? Oh, and I hope you like surprises."

She was about to reply when he cut her off.

"See you soon, dear. Mwah!

Click.

What was she doing?

What has she gotten herself into?

How was he able to make her feel so alive?

So real.

When for so long she felt so alone.

So out of touch.

Was he real?

She could only hope as she glanced down at the time on her phone.

She would find out soon enough.

Only a few hours away now.

There she stood.

Just a short ride away from everything she wanted and feared.

There was a sense of finality to it all.

This born in that of a new beginning.

Her mind had been racing all day, and it seemed rather intent on continuing to do so for a good while longer. He seemed so smug and confident when he spoke with her, and she could hardly say it wasn't an attractive quality. In fact, it was one of the things she liked most about him.

For reasons she could not explain, he simply had this way about him that came across as confident and even a bit conceited while maintaining a shred of modesty. Almost as if he was simply stating a commonly shared idea when he spoke glowingly about himself.

After some thought, he probably was. She found him to be everything he had said and so much more. The leaves of sincerity that tumbled so easily as he spoke were caught up in the winds of their courtship and were swirling about her from head to toe.

She felt like she knew him on so many levels.

It was as if she had known him for years before they spoke, and after conversing he only cemented that feeling. There was a connection between the two that was undeniable to either part, and he often spoke of her, which drove her wild.

All of this when she simply was browsing online and reading about random individual's personal lives to pass the time late one evening.

Now look at where that curious glimpse into his life had seated her.

At the altar of making a change in her life that she did not expect nor entirely desire when they crossed paths.

Never was it her intention to actually coax along a potential personal relationship from her online escapades. Idle chatter was one thing, but to develop such a deep and intimate personal affection for someone through cable wire and telephone lines?

Almost unthinkable.

Almost.

There she stood in tight blue jeans and a form-fitting burgundy shirt as she sneaked a peak in her mirror.

Looking at her reflection, she pondered whether it was too overt for the evening's affairs. While she was presenting a rather casual attitude, she didn't want to come off as attempting to show off her delicate curves.

Truth be told, she was never very secure with her body, and that lack of comfort has taken her years to come to grips with.

It was a double-edged sword for her, really, either someone was only enticed by her physical features or they wrote her off due to those very same traits.

Don't mistake her, though, she was not at all displeased with the way she looked, in fact in recent time she had learned to appreciate her beauty all the more and find ways to accentuate it, but her body would always be a source of both pride and frustration.

She enjoyed some photos of herself, yet others she despised. It had little to do with herself, but more the feeling each picture represented. It became a way of life almost for her to live through these moments.

You are only young once.

Savor those precious seconds before one turns old and gray.

So she straightened the shirt some, and adjusted the way the jeans hugged her hips, and still she was unsatisfied.

She retreated to her closet and began rummaging once more for something a little less provocative.

Buzz.

Thump.

Rubbing her head frantically, as she hit her head on the clothes rod in her closet, she stumbled into her bedroom to turn off her alarm.

Earlier she had set it to allow herself ample time to leave so as not to be late for her date, if she could even call it that.

Trying to catch her breath and not freak out, she again pondered another shirt to wear.

Looking down in her hands they contained one simple off-white blouse. Now, for some reason this seemed the perfect thing to wear, and she shrugged it on after quickly discarding her previous top.

Her keys?

Her purse?

Her wallet?

Her cell phone?

All of the identification one would need under any given circumstance?

Check.

She pulled the door to her apartment closed, and locked it behind her. Staring briefly at the wooden frame, she considered the prospect of never again returning to the confines of her home again the same person as she is leaving it.

Ordinarily this would give her great worry in such a pause, but for some indescribable concept she found a serenity in it all.

Pleased.

Nervous.

Excited.

Scared.

Alive.

So very alive, she felt, and it had been so long since someone was capable of stoking the hidden embers within smoldering flames she kept deep inside and away from all.

Whatever the outcome, she was going to be different, and for some reason this was not a bad thing.

Not bad at all.

Descending the stairs with a hop, skip, and a small leap she landed cleanly in front of her car. Unlocking her door, she seated herself smoothly behind the wheel, shut herself in, and began the long trek to see the prospective new firefly in her jar.

Fiddling with the radio, she flipped from station to station and from song to song without much of anything capable of stemming her nerves.

As if anything could at this moment.

Finally, she shut it off in favor of her CD player. What a Godsend it was for long drives alone to and from new places and new experiences, she thought.

Oh, my.

Figures.

The disc she had left in her car was a burned copy of an artist he had turned her on to. She was a singer born in Canada with a powerful voice and a tender heart. The artist's life has led her all over the world, though, and in some ways she has lived as a gypsy. A traveller with something to say. Something to sing, and sing she could.

The artist's name? Tara MacLean.

The music had such a soothing tone that it would at various times in her car ride steal her away from her thoughts of the impending meeting and lead her back more toward a state of numbed bliss.

Such a beautiful voice, she thought, when arguably her favorite Tara song came on the radio as the first wave of lazy raindrops pelted her car.

"Let Her Feel The Rain"

How appropriate was that?

Either an omen of good fortune to come or a portent of concern. She took it for the former, and discarded the latter almost as quickly as the thought popped into her head.

Here she was driving along the interstate with a rainstorm falling from the overhead skies and she was settled warmly inside her car singing along to a song that made her feel beautiful.

He often said that of her.

She was beautiful.

Don't guys always say that to you?

Especially one so charming as he, and with as many females as he has that covet his attention and his affection.

Yet right now she felt beautiful.

And sexy.

She was wearing some of her most enticing underwear beneath her clothes, and she was enjoying every moment of it.

The anticipation.

The trepidation.

The desire.

Hell, she was just excited to finally have some reason to wear them. Shopping for cute bras and panties was something she loved to do, as her plethora of Victoria's Secret receipts could attest.

In their conversations she knew that he had a fondness for thongs, and on this night she was not going to disappoint him, and while he was a fan of large chests, she could only hope she lived up to his desires.

Why was that?

Why did he matter so much?

He should like me for me, she thought.

Agh! He did. She knew he did.

Would her skin even see the light of his eyes, she wondered. It wasn't that she was easy, far from it, she had not been intimate with someone since her last relationship quite a while previously. In fact, this had been the longest she had gone without the tactile touch of another since she began dating period.

Was he worthy?

Would he even want her?

Quiet.

One step at a time.

Just be yourself, she thought.

Repeat that.

Be yourself.

Ring.

Her phone! Good Lord, it scared her half to death. She quickly turned the music down and flipped open her phone without even bothering to look at the person calling.

It was him.

"Hey you," she said excitedly, "I'll be there shortly."

"Of course. Nervous?"

"How'd you know?" she countered.

"Because I know you, silly girl. So I like your choice of music."

"Oh, yeah, isn't that ironic?"

"Wrong Canadian. That would be Alanis. Ick."

"That was bad." She laughed.

"You smiled, so how bad could it be?"

"Gr, you! So what's my surprise? Tell me!" she pleaded earnestly which seemed very much like it was bordering on whining.

"You'll see soon enough. I was just calling to make sure you were alright with the rain and all."

She nervously chuckled, "I am. This isn't my first time driving in it."

"Good. I'll let you focus on driving then. Oh, one other thing, I'm leaving my front door unlocked so just let yourself in. Bye, sweetheart."

With that he hung up the phone.

Damnit.

Why does he do that?

So unfair of him.

She turned the music back up, and listened to the rest of the song, another one of her favorites by Tara, and continued her drive.

Now I don't know what to believe This girl made of steel with Her heart on her sleeve Looking for someone To love and leave me That's me

"That's Me" by Tara Maclean

Those lines always had resonated deep within her, almost as if they had been written, recorded, and sung just for her. Heart on her sleeve. Someone to leave.

So her.

That's me, she thought to herself.

Not tonight.

She pulled up outside of a white house peeking out behind a line of bushes with a long driveway and a screened-in porch. It was only one story, and the house's steps led up to a wooden framed door with a large knocker on the front.

Checking the address and description for the fifth time, she was so tempted to call him.

She didn't.

Instead she dialed her parents number and spoke to her mother, just letting her know she was safe and that she would talk with her later. It was a short conversation, and she was stalling.

Enough.

Bravely, she climbed out of her car, beeped the locks behind her as she ascended the walkway that escorted her between the hedges and up to the front door.

As she took the knocker in her hand to knock, the door creaked open, and the mist of small raindrops brushed against her exposed skin. It was very windy here.

She said a brief hello as she crept inside, closing the door behind her, when she heard a voice from another room.

"I'm in here, sweetheart."

She opened the double doors that led from the entry hall to the den, and the house was completely dark. Not a room in the house had even one light on.

Then she saw from beneath the door leading to the right a flickering of illumination.

She pushed open the door and she saw him sitting in the dark with two large candles on the dining room table dancing about the room.

On the walls she could make out a few paintings, a shelf here, and a china cabinet there.

Seated at the table he sat, and she looked down and there was a chair directly opposite him already pulled out.

"Please, be seated."

That was it.

He said nothing else.

She stared at him, the light from the candles wavering back in forth in his eyes like a firecracker dances on the ground as it reaches its term.

Such beautiful eyes he had.

Pulling the chair in behind her, she finally examined the contents of the table.

There was a beautiful tablecloth made of a silky fabric with a deep blue hue to it, and resting on top off to the side was a large package wrapped in gift paper with a bow and some ribbons adorning it.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

His fingers drummed the table before her, and she looked between him and noticed that there were three large white bowls covered on the table.

"I thought you might be hungry after your drive over, and I could think of nothing sweeter to dine on than you.

So I prepared the next best thing."

With that he removed the covers and she saw some of the most plump and fresh strawberries she had observed in quite a while.

"They look delicious." she said as she reached to take one.