A Life That Fits (4 page)

Tears filled my eyes when the first strokes
of paint hit the wall. Alex had picked that color, and I was
obliterating one of the few things he'd left behind. But I blinked
hard and kept going, because I had to, and soon had one full wall
covered.

Standing back and staring at it, I tried to
decide if I liked it. More important, would Alex like it? I didn't
want him to come home and hate what I'd done with the place. It was
definitely a lighter and brighter color than before, far prettier,
and much girlier. Did it work, though? I thought maybe, but I
wasn't sure.

I'd never thought of myself as a particularly
indecisive person but since Alex left I'd been the queen of the
wafflers.

"Do you like your paint, your highness?" I
said out loud, then laughed at myself, laughed for the first time
in weeks. It felt good.

I gave the rest of the walls their first coat
and then took a pizza break before applying the second coat.
Finished, I went out for a walk to get a little paint-fume-free
air. The day was cool for mid-June, and I walked fast to keep warm.
When I returned home I felt a million times better, my body
energized and my mind relaxed.

I opened the door, and the sight of the
living room multiplied my mood by another million or so. The paint,
which had appeared more blue when I left, glowed purple in the
sunlight sneaking through the half-open window blinds, and the room
felt bright and fresh and happy. More like the room in the magazine
that had made Alex pick the gray paint. He
would
like this,
I was almost sure of it.

I dropped onto the couch and looked around,
feeling surprisingly proud of myself. I'd made a change and it was
a good one. Small, but good. I was on the right track.

Time to move it up a level. Though I so
didn't want to, I would go to work on Monday, and I would go every
day that week even though I didn't usually work in the office
daily. My freak out at the home improvement store made it clear
that I shouldn't be alone much longer.

But I'd so much rather be alone than see
Alex. Not that he'd want to see me either.

That made me think, and I opened my laptop
and checked his company's web site. They did have another location,
and maybe...

Relief filled me. Alex had transferred to the
other location, a good twenty minutes by subway from my building. I
almost certainly wouldn't see him.

I might see his new woman, though. One of the
few things he'd told me was that he'd met her at work. But I had no
idea what she looked like, except that she was my opposite and on
at least one occasion she'd used a black hair elastic, so unless
she was wearing an 'Andrea, I stole your man' t-shirt I wouldn't
have to worry about her.

Thinking of clothes made me wonder what I
should wear on Monday. Going back to work after three weeks off,
when everyone knew why I'd been away, was monumental. People would
be looking at me. I needed to look good.

I checked out my closet but found myself
yawning within moments. Being so short and tiny, and blonde to
boot, I'd gravitated to highly professional clothing so people
wouldn't assume, as had happened to me when I was twenty-three,
that I was in the office with my dad for 'bring your daughter to
work day'. Black and brown and gray suits, blouses in white or
black, sharp creases, no curves, nothing soft or relaxed... my
closet was all business. Even for work clothes, surely there was
room for a little flexibility. A little reversal of my usual looks
and styles.

I would go shopping tomorrow, and I would
find myself three work outfits that fit my body and shook up my
life.

*****

After breakfast and coffee while admiring my
new living room, which had taken on yet another different but
pretty color variation in the early morning light, I was at the
mall when it opened at ten. It wouldn't be so busy then, and I
could ease myself into seeing people again.

I generally hit the same three stores
whenever I needed clothes, but this time I roamed the mall and
window-shopped and went into whatever store seemed the most unlike
me. I did need to look trustworthy and solid, since no company
wants its data analysis done by someone in a Pooh bear sweatshirt
and track pants, so I stayed out of the casual stores and the ones
clearly targeted to teenagers. But otherwise I went everywhere I'd
never gone before, and even ventured into a teenager-type store
when a hot pink blazer in the window caught my eye though I just
knew I'd hate it on me.

"I'll take it," I said to the gum-chomping
store clerk, surprised at myself but unable to deny that the blazer
fit me perfectly and would add a much-needed dash of color to my
wardrobe.

"There's, like, a skirt that goes with it."
She pointed to a very few inches of matching pink fabric.

"Thanks, but I think that might be a bit
short for me."

"Yeah, maybe."

Her tone said "definitely", and I wanted to
fight back but I couldn't since I'd started it. So I made myself
fight back. Reversals everywhere. I had to keep reminding myself I
wasn't being myself any more. "Actually, I'll try it on."

I'd nearly need a bikini wax every time I
wore it, but the surprised look on the clerk's face when I came out
wearing it made me feel good. I didn't buy it, though: I'd never
wear something that short.

I struggled with that as I wandered from
store to store. Should I buy it anyhow? What exactly were the
parameters on this project? I couldn't flat-out reverse everything
I did, or I'd be eating when I was stuffed and denying myself food
when I was starving. The point was to shake things up, change my
life and change myself too. Do things I'd never have done before.
Well, I'd never have bought that skirt, so...

After I went back and bought it, fighting
back a giggle at the clerk's grudging, "Looked good on you," I
carried on through the mall. A gorgeous brown dress, soft and
flowing, caught my eye, but I looked away because I had enough
brown and shouldn't be getting any more. I needed to be my
opposite, and brown wasn't opposite.

I pushed the dress from my mind, which took
several tries since it really had been pretty, and kept shopping,
and besides the hot pink outfit I soon had a pale purple
long-sleeved dress made of some lovely soft fabric with a full
skirt that grazed my ankles, an ivory cardigan so soft I couldn't
stop myself reaching into the bag and fondling it every chance I
got, and a cobalt blue pullover.

I'd never tried bright colors like the pink
and blue, afraid I was too pale to be able to stand up to them, but
by making myself test them out I found that in the right shades
they made my eyes so much bluer, and instead of 'pale' my skin
looked creamy and soft. I'd stayed away from pastels before since
Alex didn't like them, and I'd never bought anything white, either,
afraid it would get stained. I promised myself I would wear that
gorgeous cardigan constantly and not stress over its possible
damage.

They were all gorgeous, but with the
exception of the pink skirt also professional. I didn't have to
wear suits to work; I'd been doing it to make myself feel more
grown-up. But maybe I didn't need that any more?

As I tried on a green dress, standing in my
bare feet because my cheap black flip-flops made the dress look
ridiculous, I realized that maybe I didn't need my high heels any
more either. I hadn't worn anything less than a three-inch heel to
work in years, since I felt I had more power and presence with a
few extra inches of height. But I didn't like them. They never fit
me properly, no matter how carefully I shopped, and my feet ached
every night after work and often during the day. Did that mean they
weren't right for me?

The green dress needed a bigger bustline than
I could supply even with ten padded bras, so I changed into the
purple dress and headed to the nearest shoe store. My usual heels
called to me but I resisted and instead tried on pair after pair of
shoes I'd usually have ignored.

In most cases, ignoring would have been the
right move, but I found an amazing pair of black sandals with a low
thin heel that were somehow both sexy and work-appropriate, then
fell hopelessly in love with suede flats in a stunning shade of
teal. I didn't have anything teal in my wardrobe, and usually that
would have been an automatic no, but I loved those shoes so much I
bought them anyhow then continued cruising the mall to try to find
their match.

I found it in the drugstore, of all places,
in the nail polish aisle. I generally wore pale gold or neutral
pink, to keep up my 'professional corporate woman' image, but when
I spotted a teal nail polish in the exact color of my new shoes I
couldn't resist. Those sorts of colors always screamed 'teenager'
to me, but in some ways I'd be back to being a teenager again if I
didn't get Alex back. A twenty-eight-year-old teenager. I hadn't
dated, or flirted, or any of that stuff, since I was fourteen, and
barely even then. I had a lot to learn.

But no, I didn't, because I would get Alex
back. No question.

"Can I ask you a question?"

I turned, startled. "Sure."

The man smiled, a dimple forming in his
cheek. "My sister sent me to buy a pink nail polish that's shimmery
but not glittery for her high school graduation tomorrow. I'm
hopelessly lost. Do you have any idea what she means?"

If a woman had asked, I'd have been able to
discuss the merits of the different pinks available without a
second thought. But this cute man left me tongue-tied, and I shook
my head and said, "No, sorry. Maybe the cosmetics counter can
help?"

His smile was less bright than before and the
dimple didn't make an appearance. "Maybe. I'll ask. Thanks."

He left, and I bought my nail polish,
avoiding the cosmetic counter so I wouldn't see him again because I
felt like an idiot. I was halfway home before I realized he might
have been trying to pick me up. I had no sense of those things. I
didn't know if I ever had, but fourteen years of not caring whether
anyone else wanted me had put whatever instinct I might once have
possessed to sleep more thoroughly than a thousand mugs of warm
milk could ever manage.

When I got home, feeling miserable about all
I had to learn, I hung up my new outfits and immediately both my
closet and my mood seemed brighter. The beautiful brown dress
lingered in my mind but seeing all the brown in my closet told me
I'd done the right thing leaving it behind. I was trying to reverse
everything and more brown simply didn't fit with my new life.

My dark clothes huddled together at the back
corner, sending nervous glances at the shiny new intruders, but I
wanted them all to work together so I pulled out a few of my old
standby work outfits and spent a good hour trying out all possible
combinations with my new pieces. I made a chart to make sure; I
didn't want to miss any potential way to spice up my life.

The irony of using an analysis technique to
make my life more open and free didn't escape me, but in the end I
was glad I'd done it, because the new blue sweater made great
friends with my dark brown dress pants although I'd never have
expected that and wouldn't have tried without the chart. The teal
shoes gave a kick of color to my most monochromatic outfits and I
liked it, and also liked how the black sandals made my feet and
ankles look great while still being more comfortable than my old
heels. Neither pair was perfectly cozy, though, so I would keep
looking. The perfect-fitting footwear for me was out there
somewhere, and I'd find it.

I adored the pink blazer, which somehow went
with nearly every bottom in my closet, but I couldn't help feeling
I'd made a mistake with its matching skirt. It hit me about six
inches up from my knees, and though I thought my legs looked good
in it I couldn't imagine myself marching into work wearing it. Or
sitting down at work wearing it.

Well, not all of my reversals would be
successful. This might be my first mistake, and I'd have to accept
that there'd probably be more. Can't make a whole new self without
breaking a few eggs, or flashing a few coworkers.

I didn't sleep well Sunday night, too afraid
of every last thing in my office building reminding me of Alex, but
slipping on the purple dress and new sandals made me feel better.
Every time I caught a glimpse of the lovely pastel fabric, or felt
it swishing about my legs, I remembered that I was my opposite now,
stronger and more confident, and I could survive whatever memories
tried to attack me.

On my way to work, I was surprised to get
several smiles from random men and to have one of them offer me a
newly vacated seat on the subway instead of taking it himself. I'd
never had even a first glance from guys on my way to work, never
mind a second one or any sort of interaction. Was it the clothes,
or that I had my hair down loose around my shoulders instead of in
its usual braid or updo? I hadn't changed my appearance to get a
random man, of course, and I did wonder whether Alex would like my
new look as much as these guys seemed to, but I couldn't help
enjoying their validation. I didn't do anything about it, except
blush and look away, but I enjoyed it.

I didn't enjoy arriving at work, though,
where the sight of the glassed-in coffee shop where Alex and I had
had lunch together a few times a week for four years hit me hard.
Would we ever sit there again? My hands began to sweat, and the
handle of my briefcase slid within my grasp.

I took a deep breath and set the briefcase
down, pretending to read a note by the front door about upcoming
maintenance or something and 'absently' rubbing my hands together
to dry them off.
You can do this, Andrea. The girl in this dress
can do this. Think of those lovely teal shoes. And your new
sweaters. They believe in you. Get going.