The Woman in 3B - Eliza Lentzski Page 0,38

wanted to see her again; if I had to wear a teeny-tiny bikini to do so, then that was just the price of admission.

Thank God I’d recently shaved.

“I’ll see you down there,” she sing-songed in her departure. She shut the bedroom door behind her, leaving me on my own.

I held up the pale yellow bikini that probably looked dynamic in contrast to her bronzed skin tone. On me, I was sure, it would only look washed out.

“Fuck,” I swore into the empty room.

A few moments later, after I’d stripped out of my clothes and wiggled into the bikini, I cracked open Anissa’s bedroom door and stuck out only my head.

“Anissa?” I called out.

I realized it was the first time I’d said her name out loud. I couldn’t deny how good the syllables felt rolling around on my tongue.

I paused and waited for a reply that never came.

I opened the bedroom door the rest of the way and took a tentative step into the hallway. The plush carpet felt cozy against my bare feet, but that was about my only comfortable body part. I was even more self-aware of my partial nakedness, dressed in Anissa’s flimsy excuse for a bikini, in the silent, air conditioned home.

None of the clothes I’d worn over were a suitable coverup, so I searched for a linen closet amongst the closed upstairs doors. It felt presumptuous to be peeking behind each closed door, but my desire to find a towel to wrap around my body was greater than my respect for Anissa’s privacy.

I breathed a thankful sigh when I finally found the linen closet. A stack of neatly folded bath towels sat amongst surplus toilet paper and sundry toiletries. I grabbed the top towel and quickly wrapped it around my midsection like a sarong.

I still hadn’t heard any noises from downstairs, so I tentatively descended the carpeted stairs.

I tried calling for my elusive hostess again when I reached the ground level: “Anissa?”

Still nothing.

I cautiously tread my way to the back of the house. I tiptoed, barefoot and careful, along hardwood floors. My heart felt permanently lodged in my throat and my blood pressure was elevated. It was akin to walking through a haunted house, unsure of my steps and anticipating that someone might pop out from an adjacent room or from behind a piece of furniture.

The muted sounds of a pool party filtered into the kitchen through the back sliding door. I peered through a window above the kitchen sink to observe the activities beyond the pane of glass. I had been overwhelmed the initial time Anissa had pulled me outside to introduce me to her family, but now I had a moment to breathe and take stock of the poolside activities.

Five children—two boys and three girls—ranging in various ages, although all under twelve, splashed around in the in-ground pool. The chlorine pool was large, taking over the entire backyard with the exception of a poured concrete patio where the rest of Anissa’s extended family resided.

I spied Anissa herself on a lounger beside the pool. She’d removed her coverup and lay in a black one-piece bathing suit. The bottom portion was cut high up her bronze thighs, and the front material plunged in a low v-cut down the center of her chest. The suit looked impractical for swimming, but I didn’t expect her to dive into the water anytime soon.

Two similarly-aged women flanked Anissa’s lounger in lounge chairs of their own. Each wore a bathing suit—one a patterned bikini and the other a more conservative one-piece. They might have all been sisters or cousins or of no relation whatsoever.

A few feet from the lounge chairs, a single man sweat over a propane grill. Smoke curled in the shimmery air above the hot, open flames. The man looked to be in his early forties. He wore navy blue shorts and a short-sleeved, tropical-themed shirt open in the front.

Away from the pool, the grill, and the sunbathing goddesses, an older couple sat at a circular table beneath the protection of a canvas patio umbrella. I assumed the man and woman to be Anissa’s parents, but so far my assumptions about this woman hadn’t served me well.

I still had absolutely no confidence, but I knew I couldn’t hide out in Anissa’s kitchen forever. I sucked in a calming breath and reached for the handle of the sliding glass door.

I felt the attention of a dozen eyeballs as I opened the sliding door and stepped onto the sun-warmed concrete. Anissa