Taking Measurements
Stella takes the boys' measurements, lingering on Joe's.
Stella takes the brothers' measurements once a month. It's probably more often than necessary, as they are past their growth spurts and their lean, toned bodies pretty much stay the same size. She reasons aloud, loudly (to drown out her own inner protests), that even miniscule changes in muscle mass affect their painted-on pants. She hushes the inner voice that calls out "liar liar skin-tight pants on fire."
She does a cursory job on Kevin and Nick, calling them one by one into the dressing room and dismissing them efficiently. Joe she saves for last. Before he comes in she takes a deep breath and tries to shake the nervous excitement from her fingers. After he ducks through the cloth door he gives her a smile that's just slightly tinged with a kind of anticipation that sends a shiver through her. He runs his hand through his hair, she puts on a professional attitude, and the moment is over.
It's just Joe, it's just Joe, she thinks as she tells him to hold out his arms and unwinds her cloth measuring tape. He stands obediently with his arms outstretched and smiles a little goofily. "I feel like the Scarecrow from The Wizard of Oz," he jokes, and then jumps around singing "If I only had a brain" until she agrees that it would be nice if he did have a brain and tells him to stand up straight again, but she can't help smiling fondly and laughing.
The light, easy camaraderie lingers as she gets to work. She starts at his left hand, drawing the measured cloth from the top of his wrist to his shoulder. Her fingertips slide over his arm as she measures and suddenly there's something in the silence that makes her want to hold her breath.
She measures one beautifully muscled arm and then the other, jotting down the numbers without really seeing them. She puts one end of the cloth between his clavicles and draws it down his chest, not meeting his eyes but feeling the heat of his body and a whisper of breath on her face. She circles him and tries to ignore the way his gaze follows her until she disappears behind him. She takes a minute to just look at his back, free from his scrutiny, until a tentative, "Stella?" comes from him, unexpectedly raspy.
She is relieved to be out from under a gaze that was becoming intense and unreadable and tries to measure his waist from behind. His hands on hers stop her as he turns, still encircled by the measuring tape. She looks up at him and is caught. After a beat his expression softens and he gives an almost imperceptible nod. Somehow she knows what it means, this permission.
Her whole body is thrumming, on edge with adrenaline. She can hardly believe her own boldness as she gets down on her knees. She holds Joe's eyes the whole time and they anchor her, looking at her with a kind of wonder. She takes the measuring tape and starts at his right foot. She draws the cloth up the inseam of his pants, her fingers brushing a path that feels like fire.
Stella's fingers are halfway up his thigh when he gives a kind of strangled gasp that could be her name. He drops to his knees in front of her and takes her face in his hands and kisses her, needy and sweet. The shock of his lips on hers is like jumping into a cool lake. His fingers cradle her face gently. She curls her hands around his biceps and hangs on. After breathless moments they break apart, panting, resting their foreheads together. Even after that Stella is afraid of what she'll find when she looks him in the eye, of what she might not see there. He draws back and tilts up her face. He is looking at her in amazement and affection and wonder and it nearly makes her laugh out loud at the cluelessness of them both. A giggle escapes her and before she knows it they're both laughing hysterically in a tangle of limbs. It's just Joe, she thinks wildly, It's just . . . Joe! It's Joe!
Kevin and Nick find them like that, leaning on each other for support and giggling like maniacs. "What?" Kevin demands, "What's going on? What'd I miss?" Nick just takes a minute to look between the two of them, noting their mussed hair, flushed faces and the distinct lack of notations in Stella's notebook. "Come on," he says to Kevin as he starts to drag him from the room. "Wait, I don't get it!" Kevin wails. "I'll explain later," Nick sighs in exasperation, "Just, come on!"
When Stella and Joe are alone again they quiet. "Joe . . ." she says. "Yes, Stella?" He answers eagerly, bringing his hands up to tangle in the blonde ringlets by her face. She looks at him very seriously and holds up her notebook, "I think I'm going to have to re-take your measurements." When he smiles this time it's blinding. "I think I can live with that," he replies, but they don't get around to taking the measurements for some time after that.