Temporary Secretary

Part 64

26 September 1981

6:00pm Saturday

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You were in the washroom, doing up your face for the dinner.

You were wearing a new dress. Paul and you had gone to get something suitable, that'd also fit you in your state.

Shopping for it was about what you expected, not enjoying seeing yourself so clearly in the dressing room mirrors.

It was a more upscale place than you would've gone yourself before, you wouldn't have been able to justify the expense. The dressing room had a proper curtain, space to walk and turn, and one of those mirrors that showed multiple angles.

It was a little better than going alone, having Paul there. Though, the dresses he brought to try were more on the revealing side, despite it seeming this was a formal thing you were going to. You suspected his intentions were pure, not noticing the trend in the dresses that caught his eye.

In the end, you'd opted for a black dress, more of a wine, maybe. One not too revealing. You thought it'd slim you. It was getting colder, so you wore a fur shrug over it.

The dress was empire cut and floor length. You still had your reservations, going out dressed up like this. It didn't hide your state, but hopefully flattered you regardless.

You'd done your face up, but still lingered in front of the mirror.

You'd done it in a subtle way that hopefully wasn't too much or too little. You put up your hair. It had been getting quite long, actually. It was thicker now due to the pregnancy, and you couldn't recall the last time you'd had it cut, certainly not since moving in with him.

Don't cut your hair much. You remembered he had said. I like it long... womanly.

You made a face to your reflection. It reflected back at you.

You wanted to look nice for him, though. He looked lovely to you. You didn't mind having it long, if he liked it.

Didn't it go both ways? Surely, if Paul did something atrocious to himself, you had the right to tell him For god's sake, Paul, that facial hair is atrocious. Why did you shave a "W" on your face? I demand you shave it off. There were certain things you could picture that would not suit him, as lovely as he was.

You were wearing the locket Paul had gifted you. You wore it most days. You really did like it, and what it represented.

You also wore earring studs. Hopefully the jewellery would make you more formal.

Your mouth twitched. It was irrational. You couldn't help but feel like... well, you could dress up and do the face of a pig, but it was still a pig.

You looked the same from the shoulders up. Maybe a little bit of the "glow." The blown up midsection sort of negated that in your mind, though.

You put care into seeming elegant. Another thing that concerned you was seeming too young...

You couldn't help your face. You didn't look like a teenager, hadn't styled yourself like one either. But your features were softer than an older woman's would be, you didn't have lines.

You should look fine next to Paul. You suited one another, you thought. Such as in the photo around your neck. His softer features, next to your harsh ones. Even if you didn't feel like it, you did tend to carry yourself quite strong, your facial expression to match.

The washroom door was open. Paul was facing the bedroom mirror, also fixing himself.

You were endeared for a moment. He had an expression for this, his eyes lidded, but eyebrows raised, focusing, and doing himself up. He tucked his hair behind his ear, straightening his tie and lapels.