Authors: Dorothy Phaire
Thursday was her housekeeper’s regular day to come clean so when Renee heard the front door swing open she knew it was Chizuko entering with her key.
“Good morning, Miz H. I come early for you. Make things nice for Mr. H,” said Chizuko in broken English, smiling broadly as she bowed often.
Chizuko Tanaka and her family had only been in the United States for less than a year. Although in her mid-fifties, she attended evening English classes at a high school near her home. Whenever she got the chance, she practiced her English on Americans and Renee always took time to engage her housekeeper in conversation.
“Good morning, Chizuko. How’re you doing today?” asked Renee. The housekeeper carried several baskets of fresh flowers that Renee had ordered from the florist and began cutting and washing the stems in the sink as she chatted away.
“People not so nice, Miz H. This morning at bus stop I see young lady with dark eyes and skin a little more light,” said Chizuko, pointing to her seashell-tinted arm.
“So I think young lady Japanese like me. I smile and bow to pretty girl and give greeting in Japanese. But girl speak English in mean voice. “What hell you want old woman? Why you no go back to China?”
“I say to mean little one,
Chizuko from Japan not China
! She say something again sound like mad words but I no understand,” Chizuko frowned and shook her head while arranging the flowers in vases.
“Some people stay in terrible moods for no particular reason Chizuko, but we can’t let them ruin our day, can we?” smiled Renee and sniffed a bloom full of pink lilies.
“No, Ma’am. Chizuko make things nice for when Mr. H get home today. I start downstairs first, okay Miz?”
“Yes, that’s fine and thank you Chizuko. Everything always looks lovely on Thursdays after you’ve been here. As a matter of fact, I’m planning a special evening for my husband.”
“Ohhh! Chizuko do good work for very special day,” she smiled and bowed, “Big house but you and Mr. H not messy people. I stay late to help, yes?”
“That’s great. Thank you, Chizuko. I’m planning an Indian-inspired evening, with candles, pleasant music, Indian cuisine and authentic dress. So if you can stay to help me I would really appreciate it. And you’re right, Chizuko, this house is awfully large for just two people but that’s about to change in the near future. There’s some wonderful news I plan to surprise my husband with tonight at dinner,” Renee smiled at her private thoughts as Chizuko glanced at her strangely.
Instead of asking her employer to explain and speak more slowly as she often did when Renee rattled on, the housekeeper took her supplies to the living room to start cleaning. She could tell her employer looked especially happy today and that’s all that mattered to Chizuko.
Renee drained the last drop of orange juice and went downstairs to her office to complete a few hours of paperwork, check email and return some phone calls before getting things ready for Bill’s arrival home. She was grateful for Chizuko’s offer to help her prepare for her husband’s homecoming. After her housekeeper finished her regular cleaning duties and decorated the rooms with flowers, she ironed the table linens and set the table using the best serving china and crystal. Renee guessed that Bill’s palette may still be accustomed to Indian food so she ordered a traditional meal from Bombay Palace: an entrée of Tandoori chicken in a butter curry and marinated lamb with a side dish of saffron-seasoned basmati rice and an assortment of Indian breads. Chizuko volunteered to go downtown to the Indian restaurant to pickup the food for her. Renee called Remy, her regular driver and prepaid for the round trip since Chizuko could not drive or read the traffic signs. Just taking the bus to work and back home was still a feat for Chizuko. Renee also asked Remy to stop at a nearby French patisserie so Chizuko could bring back a jewel-like tray of pastries and chocolate-covered strawberries that Renee wanted for dessert.
Renee planned to serve small helpings at dinner and not overdo the food tonight. If Bill stuffed himself, he’d be too sluggish for lovemaking afterwards. And that’s what their relationship needed to restart the fire and get him in a good mood before she announced her news. She drank lots of Evian water and nibbled on fruit and crackers so she wouldn’t get too hungry in case his plane landed late. The food was a secondary treat. Renee fantasized about the evening ahead. She’d lock her eyes on his while slowly biting the juicy, chocolate-covered strawberries. Her eyes would send a clear signal that tonight was more about reconnecting as a couple and learning to fall in love again. It would be the perfect setting to announce that she was pregnant.
Chizuko returned from her errands about an hour later, carrying packages brimming with a complimentary mixture of culinary smells. She arranged the food in re-heatable, serving platters and wished her boss good luck before she left. Chizuko’s help turned out to be a real timesaver because Renee had not anticipated all the time and effort it required to prepare for the evening. Her earlier attempt at creating a romantic evening had failed when Bill had unexpectedly left the country and threw out her invitation as junk mail. But tonight would be different, she smiled. The clock struck five—only a few hours remained she noted. Renee retrieved the matches from the kitchen drawer and sat them next to the dining room candles. She would light the candles just before he was due to arrive. She set out Bill’s favorite Cognac and chilled a bottle of champagne. She dimmed the lights throughout the house then went upstairs to get dressed.
Renee showered in Boucheron’s scented gel and massaged her skin with its lotion and cologne. Boucheron was one of her more enticing fragrances that she used only for very special occasions. She opened the gift box from Bill that had arrived at her doorstep yesterday, then pulled out the beautiful silk Sari from India. In addition to a sheet of decorative bindis, Bill’s gift contained everything needed for an Indian woman’s complete formal outfit: a hand-embroidered, purple silk Sari with gold, zari work on its border and end piece. There was a matching ‘Choli’ or blouse and a plain waist petticoat. Renee glanced at the picture of a lovely Indian woman wrapped sensually in her Sari pictured on the enclosed draping instructions. Normally not a flashy dresser, tonight Renee wanted to induce an adventurous side of her personality to come out by emulating the seductive effect of wearing this very feminine attire. Bill was in for a big surprise when he walked through the door this evening.
Renee recalled her husband’s response last Thursday night when he saw her in that shimmering, low-cut, blue-black Neiman Marcus gown that she first planned to wear to the Boys and Girls Club fundraiser dinner. Her tummy-tucking, cellulite-shrinking, bosom-enhancing ‘Flatter Me’ corset transformed her into a sexy diva for about five minutes. She wondered now if her pregnancy had something to do with her short temper that night. But when she had to change into something sensible like a pantsuit in order to maintain the trivial function of breathing, Bill had not bothered to hide his disappointment. Renee knew what to do to get her husband’s attention. She had tried the seduction plan the day before her birthday but an unlucky fluke of events kept Bill from reading her invitation to dinner where she intended to be the main course as well as the dessert. This time she hadn’t bothered with mailing him a secret invitation but would have everything ready and waiting for him when he walked in at seven tonight.
After reading the Sari draping instructions several times, it didn’t take Renee long to realize that she should have practiced wrapping her new Sari. She laid out the 242 by 45 inch rectangle of seemingly endless silk fabric on her white-carpeted floor and sighed. She decided to begin with the easy steps first and pressed a stick-on bindi over her forehead. Next she smoothed out her dark hair with the flat iron. Then parted it down the middle and twisted it in a neat bun at the nape of her neck the way the woman on the picture wore her hair. She put on the matching fuchsia-colored blouse and petticoat then nodded approvingly at her reflection in the full-length mirror. Not bad. She already felt beautiful and exotic but still had the most important part of the attire to drape, the Sari. Renee stood over the sea of purple fabric with both hands on her hips. Now she wished she had gotten dressed earlier while Chizuko was still there to help her figure this out. On second thought Renee shook her head at the idea of Chizuko wrapping her in the Sari. That would definitely end up being the blind leading the blind, thought Renee—a Japanese and an American woman trying to wrap an Indian Sari!
“Okay, you can do this Renee. Just take it step-by-step,” she said aloud to herself. Renee bent down and lifted the top edge of the Sari and tucked it into the petticoat just as step 1 described. So far so good. But at step 2 she immediately ran into a snag. The directions said to tuck about a yard of the Sari to the left, back and front again in the top edge all around, keeping the lower edge in the same level. Renee switched from the left side to the right, then from right to left several times but couldn’t make sense of the correct way to drape the cloth. Finally, she simply wrapped and tucked around her waist a few times.
The lower edge of her fabric dragged the floor instead of reaching just below the petticoat like the picture showed. To correct that problem, Renee started the circular tucking all over again and pushed in a few more inches until the border did not sweep the floor. The last thing she wanted was to trip over her own feet. When she got to step 3 and read the folding of the pleats part, Renee almost lost her nerve to continue. It looked like she’d need the multiple arms of an octopus to be able to fold those pleats. But she wasn’t ready to give up yet. Her unborn baby counted on her to succeed in this mission to keep mommy and daddy together.
The directions for step 3 read,
Hold the edge of the sari in your right hand with your forefinger straight. With your left hand bring the edge of the sari over your forefinger of your right hand and back under the thumb of your right hand. This is your first pleat. Now use another 2.5 yards to fashion seven to eight more pleats just like the first.
Renee tied her fingers in knots trying to make the required number of pleats. To make matters worse her first pleats fell apart before she finished the remaining folds.
“You’ve got to be kidding,” she said aloud and tossed the instruction sheet on the bed.
Frustrated, Renee took out her sewing kit and fastened together her own makeshift pleats with safety pins. After tucking the edges of the ‘pinned together’ pleats inside her petticoat she read where the directions said …
The pleats should face towards the left and fall gracefully to level with the rest of your sari. The pleats can be pinned to the petticoat about 2 inches below the wais
t
.
“Now you tell me I can use pins! It figures,” said Renee aloud, laughing at herself.
Since she had already fastened her pleats together with pins, she re-did the pins and this time attached them to her petticoat. When finally finished with this step, Renee checked her image in the mirror. Instead of the uniform, flowing pleats depicted in the picture, her bulky pleats made her look like a potbellied pig.
Renee spoke to her image in the mirror, “All right Mata Hari, let’s move on to step 6 and see what’s in store for us next. It can’t get any worse.” Step 6 instructed her to take the remaining 2.5 yards to the left and around the back. Pass it under the right arm and across the front. Then throw the ‘Pallu’ which it called the decorated end piece of the sari and drape the pallu over the left hand side shoulder and let it fall casually to just above the back of the knee. It said the wearer could pin her pallu to her blouse on the left hand side shoulder.
Renee took a deep breath before tackling this final step. Just as she suspected, the fabric did not drape flawlessly over her left shoulder and fall nicely down her back as the instructions indicated. After wrapping and re-wrapping umpteen times, she nearly strangled herself trying to get it to swing from the back and across her neck to the left.
“This is clearly a task that requires a level of expertise that I don’t have,” said Renee and threw up her arms. She collapsed on the bed and noticed that it was almost 7 o’clock. She still had to reheat the food and arrange it in the china platters as if she had prepared the meal herself and light the dinner candles. Chizuko threw out all the restaurant’s bags but if Bill saw the food in microwave-able dishes he’d know something was up in the culinary department. So far everything had gone wrong. She looked nothing like the beautiful Indian model in the picture. In fact, she looked more like a desecrated mummy who had escaped from her tomb. How seductive was that?
The clock stuck seven. Renee was about to give up and unwrap herself from the yards of fabric when she got another idea. She studied the picture again and wished she had paid more attention to Aunt Clara’s sewing lessons when she was nine. Renee threaded a needle with purple thread and began sewing the top of the fabric to her blouse to imitate the draped effect as closely as possible. This way it wouldn’t come apart before she could wrap it correctly. For once she was glad Bill was late getting in. Thirty minutes later Renee grinned at the finished outcome as she stood before the mirror. “Now that’s what having a logical, problem-solving, psychologist’s mind gets you,” she said to herself with satisfaction.
Renee carefully descended the stairs in her beautiful Sari and placed the bowls of food in the microwave. She lit the dining room candles and fantasized about how their evening together would end once upstairs in their bedroom. Perhaps she’d wait until that ‘moment’ to tell him her news. She lovingly dished out the meal and garnished the dishes with sprigs of parsley. Just as she had finished wiping up her mess in the kitchen and made sure the atmosphere looked inviting, an uncontrollable urge came over her to urinate. Damn, if only she hadn’t been drinking so much water all day. Renee looked down at her neatly pinned and sewn together Sari and her eyes went wild when she realized there was no easy way to get out of it. This time she really had mummified herself.