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Veronica felt her face turn red as she passed the crew of construction workers at the last block from her car in route to work. Just keep working, guys, she whispered. But one by one, each man's head popped up and turned her direction even though she had crossed to the opposite side of the street to avoid them. Instead of being completely ignored as she usually was, she knew today was going to be a lot different. No matter how much she quickened her steps, the whistles, catcalls and crude remarks caught up to her and like cobwebs, sticking to her mind.
The block-long construction area seemed to stretch for miles as she kept her head down and slipped into the door of her building. What in the world had happened to her? Never before had she been such an object of attention from men. And she was not doing anything to encourage them. In fact, nothing was different in her hair, makeup or clothes. It was almost as if her lifelong, secret desire had come true. But how?
She trudged her way up two flights of stairs and entered the door marked "James and James, Attorney At Law." Her desk looked just as she had left it, papers strewn across it and one paper stuck in her typewriter, half-completed. She paused, looked at the empty soda can next to the phone in disgust and wished she could be more orderly. It embarrassed her. Worse yet, her penchant for messiness showed up in her personal appearance as well. She deftly guided strands of her brown stringy hair back behind each ear and pulled the tail of her shirt down as far as it would go over the paunch of her belly. The feel of the bulge in front brought back the familiar pang of regret in her heart. The unfulfilled dream swept over her stronger than ever. Yes, she surely would love to be drop-dead gorgeous, not stocky, washed out and invisible.
Mr. James, Sr., came out of his office and approached her. He was focused on the paper in his hand and started talked without looking at her. "Veronica," he said, "would you please make these changes on . . ." He stopped in mid-sentence when his eyes drifted from the paper to her face. He stood there staring at her, his eyes becoming soft, limpid pools. Veronica became uncomfortable at the way he was staring at her. She waited as his gaze went the length of her body and back to her face again.
"Yes, Mr. James?" she said, hoping to get him started talking again.
Mr. James came to himself. "Oh, yes, Veronica. Excuse me, I, ah . . ." He took his glasses off and looked at her. "Have you done something with yourself? Changed your hair? Lost weight . . . that is, if you don't mind my asking?"
"No, sir, it's the same old me," Veronica answered.
"Well, I guess I hadn't noticed how beautiful you are."
"Thank you, sir." Veronica blushed and took the paper from his hand. She wanted no more of this conversation, especially with Mr. James, Sr., so she sat down and got to work.
About the time of her morning break, Veronica was becoming claustrophobic what with the door of the office being shut. She had shut it because it seemed as if every time she looked up, a deliveryman or one of the other men in the building stood staring at her from the hallway like puppies in a pet shop window. Did that many people always pass this office door? She never noticed it before and it was getting somewhat annoying.
As she ate her candy bar and soft drink, Veronica tried to read a few more pages of the romance book she had bought the day before, but her thoughts kept turning to the weekend just past. Yes, that certainly was when men's strange focus on her had started, she thought. She tried to remember the exact moment when they had started regarding her in a different light. She had gone from no sex appeal—except to Earl, her boyfriend, of course—to being in the same league as the Queen of Sheba. But even poor Earl had succumbed and become different in his attentions. She could still see the look on his face when he came to pick her up last Saturday.
That was it! Saturday! Friday, she had been plain, mousy Veronica in everyone's eyes. Then Saturday, it was as if her bud bloomed, dawn broke, the storm cleared. Only she was exactly the same as she had been on Friday. The same everything. Well, except for one thing. The kimono. That was it. The only thing new. The only thing different.
Mr. Holmes had said the crimson kimono was very old, and she had fallen in love with it the moment she had seen it in his antique shop's window. Just think, a woman like one she would like to resemble had owned it. Although the price was somewhat more than she wanted to pay, she splurged and bought it anyway. It was so fun, trying it on Saturday morning after she had showered and lavished herself in her favorite bath powder. She envisioned herself as a Geisha, loved by every man and perfect in her beauty and ability to attract the opposite sex.
Veronica had assembled all the parts of the kimono on her bed like a puzzle. Even though real Geishas require someone to help dress them, Veronica managed to get all the parts of the kimono on, at least the way she thought they were supposed to go. Then she just stood there, lost in an imaginary world where at last she was pretty enough to participate. She was the beautiful heroine who deserved the handsome prince.
Then she had taken off the kimono, folded it all up and placed it back in its box. When she walked out of her bedroom, however, a new day had dawned. Mr. Purdy, the plumber, worked on her kitchen sink that morning. He caught sight of her, half of him under the kitchen cabinet and half out, and almost broke his glasses when he banged his head on the pipes.
"Why, Veronica," he said as he stood up and bent his glasses back into shape. "Don't you look pretty this morning."
Veronica looked down at her tee-shirt, jeans and floppy shoes. "Me?" she said.
"Yessiree, you," Mr. Purdy said. She could see approval in his eyes.
The doorbell rang then and Veronica looked through the peephole in the door. Earl's face bulged at the top in the view she saw through the fisheye glass. She was always glad to see him even though he was not much of a handsome prince. She had resigned herself to the fact that they matched. She could never catch a handsome prince anyway. Earl was comfortable like an old shoe, easy to talk to and ever loyal.
When Veronica opened the door, Earl did a double take. "Wooie, baby," he said and walked around her looking her up and down. "What have you done with yourself? What a knockout!"
"Are you crazy? I haven't done anything."
"Wow, you are blowin' my mind, kid! Not that you don't always, but today . . . well, you are it."
Earl had gone on and on about her that day and Veronica surely wanted to figure out what had happened. Had trying on that kimono done something to her? But how could it have done anything? Only in fairy tales are enchantments cast upon people. But the only answer to this riddle that she could come up with was that the kimono had somehow transferred womanly wiles upon her. She'd become the Geisha. She looked drop-dead gorgeous in the eyes of all the men who saw her!
Veronica smiled. Then she really smiled. Then she started chuckling. The implications and possibilities began to dawn upon her. What woman on earth would not want to be in her shoes? She could eat what she liked, dress anyway she chose and not even comb her hair and every man she met would see her as the answer to his dreams. Wow, that is some kimono, she thought. Her eyes glazed over as she was swept away with her wild imaginations.
Wesley Walbridge rudely interrupted her thoughts. She jerked herself back to reality and found him standing in front of her desk. The usual smirk on his face was replaced with that now familiar melting look that appeared on the men around her. But she was not happy to see him. Wesley, with his good looks, perfect hair and teeth and dressed in those wonderful suits of his, made Veronica feel even more shabby than she normally felt. He had a way of looking at every flaw she knew she had. This day, however, the handsome prince was looking at something else. He could only see the beauty placed upon her by the kimono. An image that was not her.
"Veronica, darling," Wesley said. "I think it's time we got to know each other better."
"Why?" Veronica asked. She could not resist rubbing his prior rejections in his face and decided to play the part of the prima donna. She stood and gathered the candy bar wrapper and pop can in one graceful swoop and threw them in the trash. "You never noticed me before."
He sat on the edge of her desk. "I'm thinking that you and I would be good together. A candlelight supper in a quiet little restaurant. Perhaps take in a play afterward. Does that sound nice?"
Yeah, but what about the wart on my neck? Veronica thought. Suddenly, the fact that he couldn't see the real her—who she was and what she felt—made a lot of difference. She began to feel a little lonely behind the image from the kimono. He didn't like her in spite of the warts and was only reacting to what he saw on the outside. Here was a handsome prince, but it was all so artificial. He would never know or like the real person inside of her.
Veronica walked around the desk and stood in front of Wesley. Something had to be done! She had tired of the drop dead gorgeous Veronica. He stood up and started to touch her, but she grabbed his shoulders and said, "You're going to thank me for this!" She shook him hard and yelled, "Snap out of it!" Then she looked at him nose to nose.
Abject horror rose in his face. His eyes drifted to the wart on her neck. He started stammering and grabbed her hands, pulling them from his shoulders. "I'm . . . I'm sorry, Veronica. I don't know what came over me. Forgive me . . . I've got to get back to work."
He hastened out the door almost knocking down Earl who appeared carrying two sack lunches to take Veronica to lunch.
"Am I ever glad to see you," Veronica said. She took the sacks from Earl and set them on the desk. Then she grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him hard. "Snap out of it!" she yelled and looked at him nose to nose.
Earl looked as if he had awakened from sleep. He looked around and said, "What was that all about?" His eyes met Veronica's and he smiled, glad to find himself close to her. "I love you, you know." He placed both hands on the sides of her neck oblivious to the wart and drew her close and kissed her.
"Come on, let's go," Veronica said.
"Where to?"
"You'll see."
The two sped across town first stopping at Veronica's apartment and then at Holmes Antiques. They watched from outside as Mr. Holmes placed the crimson kimono back in the shop window.
"OK," Veronica said. "Take my shoulders, shake me and tell me to snap out of it."
Earl obeyed, and Veronica looked at him nose to nose. What a hunk of man, she thought. They headed for the car.
~~~~~~~
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