The Education of Caraline

Oh!

“And I got you something while I was out.”

I sat up, ignoring several aching muscles.

“You got me something?”

I could hear the excitement in his voice, and he handed me a shopping bag from a woman’s clothing store.

“You bought me clothes?”

“Just look in the goddam bag, Caro!”

I reached in and my hands fastened around a small piece of folded cloth: black with a design of tiny, pink flowers embroidered along one edge. It was a skirt; a miniskirt; a very short miniskirt.

I was astounded. Was this how he saw me? Barely-there bikinis and micro-miniskirts? These were the clothes a twenty-year old would wear; they weren’t right for me. Maybe it was just wishful thinking on his part.

“Don’t you like it?” he said, sounding hurt.

“Sebastian, I… it’s very pretty, but…”

“But what?”

“It’s not really me. I’m more a jeans and T-shirt sort of person these days. Besides, I don’t have any shoes – I’ve only got my walking boots.”

He smiled, and pulled another bag out from under the bed.

Inside was a pair of soft, black leather ballerina flats. And in my size.

“Do you like them?” he said, anxiously.

I slipped them on my bare feet and held them out for him to look at.

“So, you’ll wear the skirt?” he said, hopefully.

It seemed a small thing to do to make him happy.

“Yes, tesoro, I’ll wear the skirt.”

I carried my new outfit into the bathroom and stared at myself in the mirror. I was horribly afraid I’d look like mutton dressed as lamb. Did all women with younger men feel like that? Like they had to dress to match the age of their boyfriend?

The skirt was so short, I could hardly bring myself to look at it; and I certainly wouldn’t be able to bend over in it with any degree of modesty whatsoever.

I brushed my hair out and applied some of my newly purchased mascara and lipstick. I felt awkward and uncomfortable, a fraud, like I was trying to be something I wasn’t.

But Sebastian’s appraisal was very different from mine.

“Wow! I mean… wow! You look awesome, Caro. Really fucking sexy!”

He ran his hand up my bare thigh and cupped my behind.

“Mmm, this skirt is great: it’s making me horny.”

“Thank you for my presents,” I said, primly. “But right now, I need food more than I need your body, Sebastian.”

He smiled, kissed my neck, then walked over to the door to hold it open for me.

“After you, baby.”

The evening air was still warm, although I suspected it would feel chilly later. I’d brought a sweater with me to wear, although there wasn’t much I could do to keep my legs warm, and I was wishing I hadn’t gone along with Sebastian’s whim. It didn’t help matters that two men walking in the opposite direction whistled at me and called out endearments – rather crude ones.

Sebastian scowled and started to turn, as if he was going to go after them.

“Oh no, eyes front, Hunter. You bought this skirt, and now you’re suffering the consequences: suck it up.”

He frowned, but let me lead him out of the danger zone.

When we found a pizzeria that we liked the look of, I couldn’t help noticing that Sebastian made sure I was seated so that my legs were hidden by the tablecloth. Talk about double standards; it was almost comical. And time for a new topic of conversation.

“What do you want to do tomorrow, Sebastian? Apart from spring your surprise on me?”

He grinned, his good humor instantly restored.

“I thought we could walk up to Capezzano Inferiore, take a look around. Even if there aren’t any Venzis there, it would be kinda cool to see where your dad grew up, wouldn’t it?”

He was so sweet. A complete pain in the ass, but really sweet.

Our pizzas arrived, pepperoni for Sebastian, quattro formaggi for me; and he also ordered a light beer. Then he surprised me.

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