Page 2 of Forever After Fall

“We have all of that. Did you have an occasion in mind? I might be able to give some suggestions if you can tell me more. Only as much as you want to share though.” I pride myself on keeping my customers’ confidentiality and their secrets. Especially since I’m asking them to keep this whole place a secret.

“Well. Um. How do I put this…” Her hands are folded, and she wrings them as she glances down at the floor.

“You don’t have to share if you don’t want to,” I remind her.

“No, I need to. I’m sure you’ll have ideas I can’t even fathom. It’s just that I’m having to hype myself up for this whole experience.” She takes a breath and then launches into her explanation. “I’m a widow. It’s been almost two years. And… um, I haven’t been able to go on a date. I didn’t see anyone besides my husband, and I’m so intimidated by the idea of someone else.”

“I can understand that. You have to decide when you’re ready.”

“Right. Well, I was worried I never would be. And then, my friend, she suggested this guy she knows. He helped her with that sort of thing. Talking her through it and making sure it was on her terms.”

“He sounds amazing. Does he have a brother?” I grin as I see her eyes light at the prospect of taking her friend’s advice.

“I’m not sure. Maybe? I don’t know a lot about his personal life. Just that he’s a single dad and a widower himself. My friend, she actually suggested him for me.” She glances up at me, and even though I think I’m doing my best to keep my face neutral, she must still be worried about potential judgment. “It’s not like that. Between them, I mean. It was just casual. Just sex. She’s not the only one he’s had this kind of arrangement with.” She laughs nervously, and I join her. I’m hoping to make her feel comfortable.

There’s no judgment here at all, but I’ve definitely never heard of that kind of arrangement. It makes sense to me though. There’s someone and something for everyone.

“Well, he sounds like a dream if he lives up to all those promises. We could all use a little help sometimes, right?”

She nods, and I lead her over to the lingerie.

“So you just want something that makes you feel confident for that first time?”

“Yes, but I have no idea what to pick. I know he likes the color blue.”

“All right. We can work with that. If you tell me a little bit more about what you like in your current lingerie, we can narrow it down to something that will feel like a little confidence boost while still being comfortable.”

I walk her through all the lingerie options and several of the toy and lube options before we finally wrap up and head for the register. She picked out some matching sets of panties and bras, one in a pale purple and another in a soft blue. Her nerves are finally fading as we talk about her plans for the night.

“So is the big night this week?” I ask as I fold the lingerie up in the delicate custom tissue paper I ordered on an indulgent whim. I want everything about this place to feel custom and intentional. I want women to feel like they’ve been pampered and to go home more confident than ever.

“No, I have too many extra shifts this week, and I’ve already maxed out the babysitter’s availability. I’m hoping next week, but he said he may be out of town. But the week after next for sure, if not.” She beams at the idea, and her smile is infectious.

“Well, if it goes well and you want to try the corset for the next time, you just come back and see me.” I hold out her small black bag, and she nods.

“I will do that for sure. Thank you so much for everything!”

I grin to myself as I finish putting all the pieces back that I pulled for her to look over, grateful that I was able to help her in some small way on her road to confidence.

My mind wanders to her future companion. Mr. Helpful. What kind of guy is willing to do that? I can only imagine it’s difficult for everyone involved.

I wonder if there’s something similar for men. Anson might benefit from a woman who could hold his hand through the ordeal of dating again without the pressure. Maybe it’s why he’s held back so long.

I might be able to find out some information on how to help him if she comes back. But before I can linger on the idea too long, another customer comes in, and I’ve lost the thread.

That night at dinner, Anson puts down his fork from the casserole I made for him and Ford to look at his phone as it pings. He glances up at me in the kitchen as I load the dishes into the dishwasher.

“Did you still want to cancel next week?”

“What’s next week?” Ford pipes up.

“Your dad and I were supposed to go on that trip Aunt Hazel had planned for the beach.”

“I want to go to the beach.”

“You’ve got school.” Anson reminds him of the obvious.

“How am I gonna get to school if you’re at the beach?”