The coat was hanging in the closet begging to be worn. Only Virginia knew she shouldn’t. Still it looked so beautiful; a red velvet coat that would drop down to a woman’s ankle when she wore high heels, hiding whatever she’d be wearing underneath. It resembled the coats women of the 19th century would be wearing over their night gowns and Virginia loved it.
She remembered the first time she saw it. She’d come to Leslie’s house before going out for the evening, and it was there on the sofa, waiting for its owner to pick it up and wear it. She found it gorgeous then; she still loved it now. It might be in its protective wrap but it shouldn’t.
She could picture herself in it; she’d be wearing a beautiful gown with silver heels but no-one would see the dress until she actually untied the belt of the coat and removed it. She could see people’s eyes widen.
She stepped closer and she removed the coat from its protection; it feels as smooth as she’d imagined. She shouldn’t be touching it, but she wanted to. She removed it from its hanger; so soft, so nice. She put her arms into the sleeves and tied the belt before watching herself in the full length mirror.
“VIRGINIA AMY GELLERT!” She bit her lips.
She turned looking at her aunt coming down the corridor.
“Why are you wearing my coat? It’s too big for you, you’ll ruin it.”
Virginia looked down; it was too big, the belt would be tied around her thighs if she hadn’t pulled it up. The hem of the coat was catching whatever dust was on the wooden floor.
“I like it Aunt Jen. It’s beautiful. Can I have it?”
Her godmother, and favourite aunt, smiled.
“I’m not sure you’ll want it when you’re tall enough. You’ll find it old fashioned.”
“No, no. I love it.”
“I’ll offer you one for your 18th birthday.”
“But it’s this one I want.”
“Oh Honey… Some day.”
She remembered that evening so clearly and now she held the coat against her chest. Jen offered her an ankle length suede coat for her 18th birthday; she’d worn it through her college years. And though it was now a 20 year old velvet coat, Jen had marked it for her to have before she passed away; it was bittersweet. Virginia had always wanted that coat, but now she’d give a thousand of them to have her aunt back. She got what she wanted, but she missed what she needed: her godmother’s love.
In response to Linda G Hill’s stream of consciousness Saturday prompt coat