Janice (pt. 3)

Part 1
Part 2

When Janice came home, she took her shoes off at the door like she always did. She glanced over at the rack where she neatly placed them every day for the past numberless years. She looked at the shoes she held in her hands, glanced back at the rack and smiled as she tossed them carelessly on the floor. Their heels smacked together satisfyingly as they fell, and she paid them little mind as her cat trotted into the room.

"Sanka," she cooed as she petted him gently, "things are about to change around here, sweetie. Yes they are!" She thought back to her former husband and how he laughed at her when she named the cat.
"Sanka? Like the coffee?"
"Yes, I think it has a nice ring to it."
"I think you're bat-shit insane for naming a cat after a coffee, but whatever, it's your cat."
She scratched him behind the ears an extra time, the sting of the memory manifesting itself as a burning pressure in her eyes.

She looked at the clock, and saw it flashing back at her; the house had lost power earlier, apparently. She started to reset it, but then hesitated. Instead, she reached behind it and yanked the cord from the wall. She took off her wristwatch and put it in one of the many drawers in the kitchen.
"There," she said to herself, "who needs to be kept on schedule by a tiny machine? Not me."

She trudged up the stairs and carefully peeled off the layers of her work day, hanging them up in the color coordinated closet. Standing in her Playtex 18-hour bra and half-slip, she sighed. She thought for a moment, and her face lifted as she remembered the back of her closet. She dug deep and pulled out a low-cut black dress. It was heavily padded in the shoulders and had a few too many sequins dating it to the mid 1980s, but she knew it would fit. She had always been built pretty big, but she hadn't gained more than 5 pounds in the past 30 years. She prided herself on that.

Finding her scissors, she cut out the shoulder pads and slid it on gracefully. Her sturdy work bra stuck up from the neckline like a sore thumb. She went to the back of her bottom drawer and pulled out a black push-up that she hadn't worn since the day she interviewed for her promotion. She chuckled a bit as she wrapped it around her chest and smiled, admiring her figure in the mirror.

A figure. She had forgotten she had one.

She was pulled from her trance by Sanka, mewing up at her while pawing at the dress in her hand.
"I told you there'd be changes," she said as she slipped it over her head.
Looking at the zipper in the back, she sighed as her mind flashed back to her first anniversary dinner.

"Honey?"
"Mmhmm?"
"Can you help me zip this?"
"Do I have to," he asked with a playful grin, "Can't we just stay in?"
"Noooo," she giggled as she wriggled free from his arms.
"Fine, fine, I'll get it."

She slid the zipper up easily and looked at herself from all angles. Perfect.

Pulling on her best heels, she grabbed the phone. She was about to dial the 909 Club, one of the fanciest restaurants in town, but then she set it back down in its cradle. She headed for the door, petting Sanka one more time as she jingled her keys happily.

She started the car, put it in first, and headed for Taco Bell.