Anxiety Attack

Lesson 3 Anxiety Attack

WC 1745

Charles was nervous as he knocked on the door of the stylish townhouse. It was in an affluent neighborhood and he could only wonder what the rent must be.

The door opened and a stern looking man stared out inquiringly.

“Hello, I’m Charles Dubois and I’m looking for the Edith Hamilton residence.”

The man gave him the once over and gestured with his thumb. “Her ‘residence’ is on the second floor.”

“Who is it?” came a woman’s lilting voice from behind him.

“Edith's dinner guest.”

Peering over his shoulder an attractive older woman smiled warmly. “You must be Charles. It’s a pleasure…we don’t often get to meet our daughter’s, boy friends.”

“MOTHER!” From the next level up came Edith’s voice. “Send Charles up here.”

The woman giggled and pointed to the outside stairs leading to the second floor. “Her apartment is up there.”

“It’s a pleasure meeting you both,” said Charles politely. He began climbing the flight and heard a chatter of voices as the door closed. When he reached the top the door was half open.

“Don’t let the screen hit you in the butt,” came a voice through the open window.

He entered and looked about. Down the hall and to the right was a light. He was immediately assailed by the smell of home cooking. There was a scent of steak and the aroma of steaming vegetables. As he entered he saw Edith moving briskly as the meal seemed to be coming together all at once. She gave him a quick hug and noted the bottle of wine in in his hand. “There’s a corkscrew on the counter. Why don’t you serve us?” Her tone was softer than usual and carried none of the “attack dog” quality he'd come to expect.

“Its Auselase,” he informed her.

“Is that like a Chablis?”

“Sort of,” he replied, “but sweeter. I hope it goes with the meal.”

“Anything goes with my meals,” she replied, rolling her eyes. There was a relaxed manner to her movements as she scuttled about fixing the dinner.

“I wasn’t expecting to meet your parents downstairs.”

“I should have told you earlier to come right on up. However, checking in on them was OK. I’m sure you made mom’s evening.”

“Your mother told me she didn’t get to meet many of your boyfriends?”

“Is that a fact?” Edith replied noncommittally.

In the background soft music was being piped in over the sound system… “Come a little bit closer, you’re my kind of man…"

He poured the wine and Edith pointed towards a second entrance.

A small dining area, with a table, candle and two place settings awaited him. Beyond was the living room. He set down the glasses. On the wide screen TV the voice of the sports announcer seemed almost surreal. “Alabama breaks the huddle, third and goal…”

He took a seat on the couch. She came in with the main courses and arranged the bowls and platters on the table. They were hot and steaming.

“There’s the snap, the fullback breaks right, TOUCHDOWN!” The screen went blank and he saw Edith putting the remote on the bookcase.

He stood and walked over seating her and then took his place on the opposite side. She extended her hands, took his fingertips and said the grace. “Thank you Lord for the bounty of this food. May it nourish our bodies for your service.… Amen.”

“Amen,” he intoned.

“Your PERSONAL said cooking skills were a plus. I hope the meal measures up to expectations."

It could be cold brats and refried beans, he thought and still exceed my expectations. There were two New York strip steaks, mashed potatoes, gravy, corn and a side salad. However, most delightful was the basket of hot french bread and dish of soft butter.

“I cooked them medium,” she said. “I hope they meet with your approval?”

Is this the same girl I’ve been dating the past two weeks?, he thought in amazement. She’s certainly behaving much differently in the domestic mode.

He spread his napkin with a flourish and they began eating. What followed wasn’t much in the line of conversation. The atmosphere was filled with the clatter of silverware on porcelain and the clinking of wine glasses. Twice Charles poured them a refill and hardly paused in serving himself seconds.

“..so big and so strong come a little bit closer,“ The music droned on in the background as the lyrics cycled around in his head.

When they finished there came a moment when both sat back and took note of one another. She had a questioning look, clearly waiting for his assessment.

Usually Edith is so brash and self confident, he wondered, and there she sits waiting for my approval. Am I missing something?

He belched unexpectedly, a little louder than intended. “Excuse me,” he said with a genuine note of contrition.

“Men,” Edith replied, wiping her lips with the napkin.

“That was a great meal.”

“Glad you liked it,” she replied, pleased with herself. She leaned forward motioning. Her eyes had a soft tenderness, as if wanting to share something intimate.

“Huh?” He found himself saying.

“Come a little bit closer,” she said.

He leaned across the table and she met him halfway. The smell of her perfume assailed his nostrils as their lips met. It was all so unexpected; first the kiss and then the parting of his lips. He took a deep breath not knowing how to respond. Hers lingered on his and she wiggled her tongue, extending it into his mouth. “Ummmm,” she sighed, “you taste like Listerine.” She drew back, watching him intently.

He remained poised over the table. At length he cleared his throat and sat back down. “That was unexpected.”

“Kissing is OK once two people get to know each other.” she said.

“I thought you were going to whisper some sort of secret.”

“And what sort of secret were you expecting?”

“I wasn’t thinking that far ahead.”

“Well think about this,” she replied. “Instead of us sitting face to face, at cross purposes, what say you move over and sit next to me?”

Where is she going with this? he wondered, unsure of himself. Her whole demeanor is so different and bewildering. Charles got to his feet clutching his napkin and moved his chair alongside. As he did her hand dropped down onto his thigh. The motion was unexpected and he was startled. It wasn't a little start but one that made his knee jump and bang the bottom of the table.

“You’re the most wired guy I ever met,” Edith scolded, however there was no bite to her words, only a sultry gentleness. “Touching is good. It’s meant to be relaxing. ”

“You surprised me is all,” Charles explained, “Like somebody comes up behind you and says, ‘Boo!’”

“You're so up-tight.” she chided, her hand rubbing back and forth. “If we were in a car with a bench seat, I’d be scooted up close, doing what I’m doing now. “

Charles could feel his heart racing. I wonder what else would she’d be doing, he asked himself?

“If you aren’t aware, rubbing is a warm and endearing form of expression… as long as we behave properly and keep our fingers from wandering into those forbidden places.” Edith’s fingers spread and her pinky searched downward.

Charles squirmed. He felt an unanticipated appetite began to stretch the inside seam of his slacks. The tip of her little finger reached out. His eyes had the look of a deer caught in the headlights.

“Cat got your tongue?”, she teased. Her words were hypnotic and detached. The sound was both seductive and soothing.

His voice quavered, “I don’t know quite what to say.”

“Tell me that you found the dinner pleasing.”

“It was great.”

“I want you to be pleased with me,” she said, almost submissively.

What has come over her, Charles wondered? Is this the same person I’ve been dating the past two weeks?

“My Mom told me the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.” Her fingers moved lower.

“What else did she tell you?” Charles asked, nervously.

“She told me that once a man gets his hook in you… a poor girl is lost.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What do you think it means?”

“You’re asking the wrong person,” he replied taking a breath, “So what kind of sage advice did your father have to offer?”

“He told me I to be strong and independent, that a woman never knows what the future will hold.”

“Isn't there a conflict between those two nuggets of advice?”

“'Only if there's a man in my life.” She nibbled his ear and sang softly, “… I’m all alone and the night is so long…”

Charles tilted backward and his chair teetered on one leg. He fell hitting the hardwood floor, surprised but otherwise unhurt.

Edith looked in dismay, napkin to face, and started giggling. Then, came an unexpected look of anxiety.

Charles wasn’t amused. Gathering his dignity he stood up and glared. “You think this is funny?” he asked, feeling foolish.

She shook her head “NO” taken by a growing hysteria that alternated between laughter and tears. Her eyes had a vulnerable look and she squinted them tight, open and then shut again. She continued shaking her head "NO" as her bottom lip quivered and shoulders trembled.

“Are you all right?” he asked. Something wasn’t right and his anger was replaced by a feeling of genuine concern.

Edith's bust began to heave taken by an onslaught of sobs.

Charles took her in his arms.

Like waves came an outpouring of pent up emotion that left her body shaking uncontrollably.

“Don’t leave me,” she pleaded, squeezing with unexpected strength, fingers gripping desperately.

He felt his eagerness stretch, pressing against the softness of her clutch. His heart beat, Ka-Boom, Ka-Boom.

Tears ran down her cheeks. She whimpered, pressing her lips into his shoulder and breasts close against his chest. He could feel her struggling to take deep and rhythmic breaths.They swayed together back and forth as the storm ran its course and an electrifying synergism passed between them...

At some length the intensity began to recede. Like a storm cloud the moment passed leaving an almost serene silence. Edith stepped back, her breathing at last under control and began to regain her composure.

“I’m so sorry,” she said.

“Are you all right?”

“I think you’d best be going,” she answered.

“When can I see you again?”

“GOOD NIGHT!” she replied emphatically.

He descended the stairs in a daze and walked out to his car. As he cranked the engine he saw the curtain to the downstairs window parted and a concerned face peering out. It was Edith’s mom. Shaking his head he stepped on the accelerator and sped off down the street.