The Red Dress

 

He bought her a red dress—

brocade fabric, form fitting

in the modernized tangzhuang

Chinese style with Mandarin

collar, embroidered floral frogs,

short sleeves, delicate piping,

two side slits and no lining.

Even though she was not Chinese,

she had told him before that she

dreamed of wearing such a lovely

garment on a special occasion.

It was to be a surprise for her.

He was in China Town that day

and had seen the perfect dress in

the window of a quaint shop on

Sussex Street.

The sales lady asked him her size.

He didn’t know exactly, but then

asked her, What size do you wear?

She smiled at him and said, I take

a medium. I’m sure then that a

medium would do just fine, he

told her.

He had it gift wrapped and went

to his lady friend’s place. He ask

her out to dinner, knowing she

would want to know where they

were going so that she could select

the proper dress to wear. Some

place nice, he told her, a romantic

place with candle light where they

have good food and dancing.

With that, he handed her the

package he had clumsily tried

concealing behind his back.

Blushing, she asked, What’s this?

Grinning back he said, Open it,

go ahead.

Carefully opening the box and

pushing the tissue paper aside,

she cried, Oh my God, what a

beautiful dress, the one I’ve

always wanted!

She threw her arms around him.

Oh, thank you, my dear, I must

try it on! I’ll wait right here, he

told her.

A few minutes later she came

out of the bedroom flinging her

hands up into the air. And then

placing them on her hips in sexy

fashion model style, she tilted

her head coyly to the left and

winked. All the while grinning

a gleaming pearly white smile.

She turned a complete circle

and threw her boyfriend a kiss.

What a radiant figure, he thought,

And red was definitely her color.

              -30-

Chris Hanch 2-24-2021