“Look!” Karen held up a pink thong, a tiny slip of a thing that would barely cover a pencil. “It’s only fifty cents!”
Heather laughed. “It’s smaller than two quarters, that’s for sure.”
Karen threw them back into the bin and came up with a pair of fishnet stockings. Heather raised an eyebrow. “Since when do you wear those?”
“I did once. Under my wedding dress.” Karen beamed from ear to ear.
Heather tried hard to picture the demure Karen, soccer-mom and car-pooling Karen, as a vixen in high heels and fishnets. She couldn’t.
“What did Ronnie say?”
Karen thought a moment, then looked Heather right in the eye. With a conspiratorial whisper and a slight blush, she admitted, “I left them on. That night. You know? And the heels.”
“He came all over them.”
Heather laughed out loud, and Karen blushed harder.
“Why don’t we do things like this anymore?” Karen asked, holding another thong in her hands. This one was silky and black and had a line of lace that looked soft enough to melt.
“I guess – well – I don’t know.” She really didn’t know. She thought about her sex life with her husband Ken. It was still good, and they still enjoyed it, but they didn’t do anything crazy anymore. Even when they went on vacation without the kids – their first in ten years – she hadn’t worn anything sexy for him. They hadn’t had sex anywhere but in the bed at the hotel. Ken never complained, but Heather sometimes saw him looking at lingerie ads in magazines and lingering there a little too long.
“What size are those?” she asked Karen, and her friend’s eyes widened.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Karen teased.
“Are there any garters in there?”
Karen’s eyes widened even more. “You’re serious?”
With feminine giggles and a high blush on their cheeks, Karen and Heather started digging through the lingerie bins, all thoughts of jeans forgotten. They touched things they hadn’t thought about in years – silky stockings, thongs made of lace and little else, bras that were satin instead of their normal, run-of-the-mill cotton.
Karen picked up a leopard print thong and a matching bra and announced, “These are mine!”
Heather was more for the black lingerie. Anything black – it was suddenly what she had to have. Why hadn’t she done this in so long? She remembered shopping for things when she was dating Ken, spending hours in lingerie stores, when she had more money than she knew what to do with, before kids and responsibilities came along. She used to surprise him with new things. Pretty gowns, gorgeous babydoll outfits, even negligees with daring cutouts in all the right places.
Where had that woman gone?
Heather wasn’t sure, but as she held up those fishnets and smiled, she thought maybe she had found her again.
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