there was Amélia in the doorway, in her T-shirt and jeans. Magdalena didn’t even look up. Neither of them was shy about seeing the other stark naked or as near to it as Magdalena was now.
“I can’t find anything to wear. Lo es qué pasa.”
Amélia chuckled. “Who can? Where you going?”
Amélia was a pretty girl from Peru, although not as pretty as she was… she had a round face with big dark eyes and miles of glistening dark hair. She was about Magdalena’s size but ever so slightly thick in the ankles. One thing about her Magdalena truly envied, however: Amélia was sophisticated, at least compared to any other nurse she knew. Amélia was twenty-six. She had graduated with a BA from EGU before even thinking about nursing school. Somehow she just knew things… she caught on to references… She was a real adult, at least in Magdalena’s eyes… a real adult a real adult a real adult—and Magdalena responded: “Some place called Chez Toi.”
“Some place called Chez Toi,” said Amélia. “You don’t fool around when it comes to some place, do you!”
“Have you ever been there?”
“Me? I wouldn’t even try. It’s impossible to get a reservation, and the prices are insane. Who’s taking you? Let me guess… your friend Dr. Lewis.”
“Yep.” Magdalena felt strangely glum about the admission and didn’t know exactly why. For whatever reason, she was becoming weary and embarrassed by this sexual bond with her employer. “You got it… but help me anyway, will you? I can’t find anything that’s gonna look right at a place like that. I just don’t own any fancy dresses.”
Amélia went into the closet herself while Magdalena stood outside with her arms folded beneath her breasts. She began pulling back hangers rapidly, one after the other, at a machine-like pace clack… clack… clack… clack. Then she stopped and looked at Magdalena from deep in the closet.
“You know what?” she said. “You’re right. You don’t have anything. If I were you, I’d go in another direction.”
“What other direction?” said Magdalena. “Norman’s going to be here any minute.”
“I’ve got an idea,” said Amélia. She emerged from the closet with a hanger bearing a short black skirt.
“That? That’s just a plain cotton skirt. I got it at Forever 21. Only comes down to here.” She placed the edge of her hand barely halfway down her thigh.
“Wait a sec, and I’ll show you. You’re gonna look amazing!” She laughed in a slightly mischievous way. “You’re gonna love it!” She practically ran to her room, yelling over her shoulder, “And forget putting on a bra!”
In no time she was back with a big smile on, holding what looked to Magdalena like a corset, but a corset made of black silk with two black silk cups at the top. Beneath each cup three rows of what looked like zippers ran to the bottom of the thing.
“What is that?” said Magdalena. “It looks like a corset.”
“It is like a corset, when you get right down to it,” said Amélia. “It’s a bustier.”
“A bus-te-ay? Oh, yeah, I’ve heard of bustiers, but I guess I never saw anybody wear one.”
“You just put that on with your black skirt—and you’ll look hot as shit!”
“Are you serious?” Magdalena stared at the thing. “I don’t know, Amélia. They’ll think I’m a hooker.”
“Bustiers are in right now. I could show you a dozen magazines.”
“What do I wear over it?”
“Nothing! That’s the whole point! At first it looks like some kind of lingerie. See all these little lines of fake zippers? But then you see it’s made of silk, and it covers you from the waist up just as well as a ball gown—more, if you’ve noticed what all the models are wearing these days.”
Magdalena looked highly dubious. “I don’t know…”
“Look, Magdalena, what do you want to look like, some cubana wannabe americana wearing a proper dress from the tag sale at the discount mall?”
That brought Magdalena up short. She was speechless… running all the possibilities through her mind like a number cruncher. “I don’t know… I just don’t know…” She turned her hands into tight little frustrated fists. “And Norman’s gonna be here any second, and this Chez Toi is such a big deal.”
“You gotta be the best you,” Amélia went on, “and that’s a la moda cubana! Just a couple more things. You got a gold necklace? You know, nothing showy.”
“I’ve got one.”
Magdalena turned and opened a bureau drawer. She produced a necklace with a small gold cross hanging from it.