Real Live Woman
The snow stopped falling just after she got home. Suitcases would wait in a pile by the door; everything she needed was in her drawers.
She undressed, glad to be rid of the sticky, cruel world. Taplights passed an eerie glow across her face.
Today, for the first time, someone called her M'am.
I don't buy the lines in magazines
That tell me what I've gotta be
Don't base my life on a movie screen
Don't fit the mold society
Has planned
She had been standing next to Amy when it happened; they were getting Italian Ices outside of the arena.
"And What will you be having, Miss...And you, Ma'am?"
The words stuck in her head.
Amy hadn't thought them a big deal. Then again, she didn't know what it was like to be the second-oldest woman in the company's employment.
I don't need to be 19 years old
Or starve myself for some weight I'm told
Will turn men's heads down that road
Janet uses more pancake on me than anyone else. "Why are you thinking this way?" She said out loud.
She removed her bra. She removed her underwear. She lifted her chin and, finally, looked herself straight in the eye.
And I thank God I finally know
Just who I am
I ain't a movie star
She had wrinkles. Wrinkles that would deepen to signify her dignity. Her breasts remained firm, her torso muscular.
But she wasn't some perfect, Goddess-like specimen.
Who wanted to be?
And I no longer justify
Reasons for the way that I behave
I offer no apologies
For the things that I believe and say
And I like it that way
She had watched Amy starve herself for weeks to fit into her pants. Terri cried when she gained a pound. Many of her girlfriends hurt themselves seriously, would continue to do so, searching for some perfect fit.
Not anymore.
He had told her before, many times, how good a person she was; that the ten years between them didn't mean much. When her own self-confidence waned, he proved it to her with words.
On the kitchen table, a velveteen box of chocolates lay, and a note in his hand,
Lisa,
I guess I almost made it; sorry I couldn't stay awake any more. Dinner's in the fridge; spaghetti and salad with those rolls you like. Sweets for my sweet.
Michael.
She pressed the note to her breast. Why did she let that one little comment rest on her soul for so long? She splashed her face with warm water from the kitchen tap, washing foolish tears down the drain.
Her sadness was behind her.
He lay in their bed, clearly asleep. She watched him for a long moment, her affection inarticulate. Long moments later she slipped beneath their covers. In pure instinct, he rolled over and wrapped himself around her body. Her skin melted, cleaved. This was wholeness and, at the time, beyond paltry physical expression.
Cause I'm a real live woman
In love with this man I see lyin' here next to me
Lost in the way that he's holdin'
This real live woman
In the arms of a man where I'll fall asleep knowin' there's
Nothin' on earth he loves more than
This real live woman
"I love you, Michael," She whispered, not expecting an answer. But as she slipped over the horizon of sleep, she received one.
"love you, Lisa. Marry me?"
The End