Member-only story
The Authentic Eclectic
To Be Seen
Katherine checked in at the reception desk and took a seat in the waiting area beside a small table covered with neatly stacked magazines. She folded her legs, then unfolded them. She’d read that this was bad for circulation, and at her age, varicose veins were a real concern.
She finished the paperwork with plenty of time to spare. After turning it in, she picked up the top magazine, then put it down. What had Janice said? She perused the photos of a home cooking magazine, trying to recall.
It’s not sexual, she’d said. Think of it like a massage. Usually so quick with words, Janice had been unable to describe the experience. Her last words on the subject had been, It will make you feel loved.
Did Katherine not feel loved? She wasn’t sure. Her husband told her that he loved her often enough. They “made love” a few times a month. Their love was settled love, like an indentation in furniture, or layers of snow in the far poles that stay on year after year. It wasn’t the hot, insistent passion of young people. But that was only to be expected.
“Katherine Morgan.” A pretty young woman in a soft beige dress stood at the double doors.
“Yes,” she answered loudly, jolting to her feet.
