by Paul Watkins
“Yes, right now. You’re welcome.”
This is beginning to sound more like a problem than an invitation. It would be worth accepting her invitation if only to get this double conversation over with… it’s giving me a headache. I agree to leave immediately and I’m on my way within minutes.
I find her waiting at the top of the steps when I arrive. There shouldn’t be a lot of traffic here today, so I pull directly under the portico and park the car.
“Hey, what’s this all about?” I ask as soon as my feet hit the ground.
We meet in the middle of the steps where she puts her arms around my neck and kisses me so softly and with such feeling that I almost forget about all the mystery.
“Hi,” she says softly.
“Hi, yourself,” I persist. “What’s going on?”
She takes my hand and leads me up the steps and into the foyer.
“I missed you and I wanted you to know it.” She looks down at the small bag I have in my hand. “Good. I see you brought your change of clothes. Follow me, please.”
The last said with the air of a well-tipped bellman. She turns and tugs at my hand and I follow obediently. We cross the foyer and walk towards the back of the house. I have never seen any parts of this mansion other than the living room area. We take a left and walk along a wide hallway, passing various darkened rooms. Large double doors close off the end of the corridor. We stop and Jennifer turns to me without opening the doors.
“I have never had anyone in this section of the house who was not family or an employee,” she explains. “You are the first guest to come back here. This wing was added before my husband’s death, but he never saw it. This is the first time it has ever been used by anyone other than myself.”
Without further comment she turns and pushes hard on both doors and they slowly swing open to reveal an immense indoor pool. Massive side windows and skylights provide natural light to the room… even late in the day. She steps through the doorway and I follow, continuing to look about the room. Opposite the windows there’s a deck area with the ceiling supported by large marble pillars. There are small tables and deck chairs sprinkled about.
“Showers and changing rooms are over there,” she says pointing to the wall beyond the chairs. “I bought a swimsuit for you and left it on the bench. I hope it fits… I had to guess at your size. When you are ready we can use the whirlpool and then go for a swim… but before all that I have a surprise.”
“I think I have had enough surprises for one day,” I reply with a laugh. I continue to look around the vast room. “This is amazing. Looking at your house from the outside, you would never know this is here. Of course, I have never seen your place from this side, but still, it’s well concealed.”
“That’s just the way I wanted it. Okay, go change, I’ll wait here.”
“Aren’t you going to join me?”
“Yes, but I have something else to do first. Then I’ll answer all your questions.”
I shower quickly and then try on the suit Jennifer bought for me. It’s a good fit. I emerge from the changing room and find her standing with a very large, muscular man. He’s dressed in a white tee shirt and white pants. His complexion is dark and he’s sporting a perfect handlebar mustache that complements his shaved head. sort of a Mr. Clean with a built-in tan.
“Philip, I would like you to meet Armand. Armand is a massage therapist and I asked him to come here tonight to begin your evening of relaxation. He will rub and massage all your troubles away for the next hour or so and then we will get into the whirlpool. But first go to the steam room for five or ten minutes to loosen up.”
“What are you going to be doing all this time?”
“Don’t worry about me,” Jennifer replies. “I’m going to see about dinner and then I’ll join you in the whirlpool after your massage. See you in a little while.”
She waves good-bye and leaves.
Armand extends his hand towards the steam room door. I shrug my shoulders and take my punishment.
I’ve been in worse fixes.
***
By the time I get to the whirlpool I’m so relaxed I’m afraid I might slip under the water without knowing it.
“Where did you get the idea the way to a man’s heart is through his aching back?” I ask, stepping into the bubbling water.
“That’s not the way it works,” she replies. “I’m told I’m supposed to go through your stomach and that comes later. Did you like it?”
“I could get to like this without any trouble at all. Good grief, what’s not to like? I come back from a trip to find a lovely lady waiting with a masseur, and now a whirlpool bath. I’ll be so weak I won’t be able to defend myself. You could take advantage of me.”
Jennifer lowers herself in the water and moves toward me, her eyes maintaining unblinking contact. I respond and we meet in the middle, our heads level, our lips touching with light kisses… teasing each other with tongues that retreat immediately upon contact.
She suddenly pulls back and splashes water in my face.
“Stop it, Philip, or I will take advantage of you and ruin the lovely dinner I have planned. Let’s get dressed before we lose complete control.” She starts to get out of the pool and then abruptly turns and asks, “I’m not the only one about to lose control am I?”
I reach up and pull her back into the water. She turns around and presses close in a kiss ill designed for the faint of heart. A gentle push and she slowly backs away.
“No, I guess I’m not alone in this. But I was serious about dinner, so keep Captain Friendly there,” her eyes momentarily directed to my new shorts, “under wraps until I can provide the proper setting.”
She smiles, leans back and kisses me on the tip of my nose. Hopping out of the water she walks to the changing room and I take the opportunity to admire her retreating figure. She’s quite spectacular. This is great… I like surprises… if they’re nice. And this one couldn’t get any nicer.
Dressed and thoroughly relaxed we walk to the living room where Jennifer has wine and hors d’oeuvres awaiting our arrival. She pours the wine and we silently pick away at the treats.
After a few minutes I ask the question that has been chewing away at the edge of my consciousness for some time now.
“Jennifer, this has all been absolutely wonderful. but what’s the occasion?”
She smiles. “No occasion. I just wanted to see how you handle the good life. My guess is… it’s nothing new. A surprise maybe, but nothing you haven’t seen before. That’s okay. You said you were in good shape financially… I think you are better off than you let on. But don’t make this out to be some sort of test, because it isn’t. I meant what I said before… I missed you and I wanted to do something special to welcome you home.
“Now I have a question,” she continues. “What in the world happened to you, all those scars? When I first saw you I almost cried, but I knew you wouldn’t stand still for that. I didn’t want to embarrass you, but now I just want to know because I care. I know I’m talking like a loony, but it was such a shock. Does it still hurt? It must!”
I have been scarred for so long I don’t see them anymore. But the scars are there and I suppose they’re shocking and ugly to someone who hasn’t seen them before. The army was never really very good at patching people up so they would look good afterwards. But I was fortunate and landed in the hands of a couple of pretty good surgeons who cared about their work. I considered having a plastic surgeon refine the damaged areas a bit, but Laura never seemed to mind and eventually I forgot about it. Jennifer’s reaction is probably due more to shock than revulsion… at least, I hope that’s the case.
“No,” I reply, “nothing hurts anymore. It was a long time ago when a younger version of myself fought in a war that couldn’t be won. Actually, those aren’t real scar
s. They’re just dummy patches I paste on so I’ll look rugged like the macho Hollywood types in all the movies. I guess I over-did it a bit, huh?”
Jennifer rolls her eyes and shakes her head.
“You can’t be serious about anything for very long, can you? You can’t stand to talk about yourself even when it’s important. I mean, those injuries must havebeen horrible. You must have gone through a terrible time.”
“But that’s why I can’t be serious about it. Don’t you see why I don’t want to spend a lot of time on something like that? It was a long time ago and I really don’t want to go back… especially to the hospital… even in my mind.”
I smile. Jennifer looks at me like I’m some sort of strange specimen and then she smiles slowly in reply.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. Anyone who hasn’t been through something like a war has no right to question someone who has. It’s your business. If you ever want to talk about it, I’ll listen, but I won’t ask any questions. The scars don’t bother me or anything… it’s just a shock to see what terrible things have been done to you. I can’t imagine such horror. I don’t understand why we have to fight and do such horrible things to one another.”
There’s not much I can say in reply to that. I’m against violence until something happens to me like those jerks from A.J.’s neighborhood, then I hit some kind of switch and all hell breaks loose. I don’t know, maybe I do need help.
We manage to talk for another thirty minutes about other, less volatile subjects when Albert appears in the doorway and announces, “Dinner is served, Miss Jennifer.”
Believe it or not, he actually said that. Where in the hell does he get those lines? He turns abruptly and leaves. Looking to the side, I fight off a smile, but not very successfully.
“Don’t you dare, Philip,” she whispers. “You will hurt his feelings. Behave yourself!”
Then she transforms the world with one of her smiles and we follow Albert’s trail to dinner. It’s a good thing he didn’t say, ‘walk this way’. If I ever tried, I’d really get my ass kicked. Albert has one of those walks where he looks like someone trying to cross the room with an olive in his ass. He’ll lose points if he drops it, so he sort of glides with his knees together. I love it!
The dining room is very large. Looking around, I would estimate forty or fifty people could be seated here. A large crystal chandelier hangs from the ceiling, directly over the center of the large table. The lights are barely visible. Our places are set at the head and corner of the table. Strategically placed candles create a slow moving light show as the glow from the flames plays off the silver and cut glass. Albert stands next to an ornate soup tureen resting on a server nestled against the wall.
The soup is turtle and it’s delicious. It’s followed by a Caesar salad that even Martha would envy. The main course is rack of lamb. The rack is large enough to feed most of the nearby town. I seldom eat dessert, but I agree to taste some Italian ice. It’s good, but if I eat any more I may go into cardiac arrest… not from overeating, but from too many good things all at once.
“I know it’s too soon to talk about marriage,” I begin in a halting voice, “but would you be open to discussing adoption?”
Jennifer laughs. “This evening isn’t over yet, so you had better wait and decide what you would like to do after you have had the complete treatment.”
“If you stopped right now my life would be complete,” I reply.
“Come on, you bum,” she chides, pushing back her chair. “Let’s go into the living room and listen to music for a while.”
I continue to sit, making no attempt to move.
“I can’t move a muscle. I think I’ll just sit here for a day or two until I get my strength back. Ask Albert if it’s okay.”
“Well it’s not okay with me, so it’s not okay with him. We think alike when it comes to this kind of thing. I forgot to tell you, this is a test after all and you’re not doing too well. The final exam comes up in about an hour, so you had better get your stuff together.”
As if by magic, I feel a lot better about a half an hour later. I was more tired from the steam room and whirlpool than anything else. In spite of all the food available at dinner, neither of us ate a lot when it came right down to it. I am now working on my third bottle of Perrier, replenishing the water loss.
Jennifer looks at me and smiles. but makes no comment.
“What’s on your mind?” I ask.
“Nothing. I was just thinking how much fun this has been for me. It started with the simple act of buying you a pair of swim trunks. It has been so long since I have purchased anything for a man. I never thought about it until yesterday. Then I enjoyed my entire day getting ready for you. I’m so glad you called when you got in. It all would have been wasted effort if you hadn’t called right away. That would have been a real bummer.”
“No, a real bummer would have been if I had missed this for any reason. It’s a total surprise. No one has ever given a gift like this to me.” I take her hand in mine. “It was very thoughtful and very considerate. And I’m very, very, very grateful.” I lean back and close my eyes. “How many verys did I have with that grateful?”
“Three, I think.”
“Add one more. That’s four very gratefuls out of a maximum five. There’s always room for improvement.”
She laughs and stands up.
“Come on, let’s go.”
I place my water glass on the table and stand.
“Where to?”
“We’re going to try for five,” she says with a mischievous wink.
CHAPTER 23
Every week with Jennifer gets a little better. Seeing her almost daily is a natural happening rather than an event… an elixir, a tonic for the mind and body. There’s no need for detailed planning, no wild mood swings and no wondering what it was I must have said. She’s easy to be with… there is no pressure; no agenda, hidden or otherwise, and no reading between the lines. Her inner beauty is more than equal to her physical attraction and that’s saying plenty. I often find myself just staring at her… she has that effect on people. I know my problems and involvement with Karen had me in a mental trench when I first met Jennifer, but it still amazes me I did not have a more immediate interest.
And for a topping on life’s cake, today looks like it is going to live up to the forecast for a change. Clear and sunny with a high near sixty degrees. It’s perfect. There’s a gentle breeze, but we can hardly feel it as we turn off the road at the end of our run and begin the long walk to Jennifer’s house. Like all early morning exercise, it feels best when it’s over. At least that’s the way it is for me.
“Can you take any time off in the next month or so,” she asks after taking a deep breath… she’s probably in better condition than I am at this stage of the game.
“I might be able to work out something in a couple of weeks. What’s up?”
“Nothing much, really. I want to go to Florida to see my mother and I wondered if you would like to come along. It would be a good opportunity for you to meet one another. I’ve told her all about you… and now she wants to see you in your shining armor and your white horse… of course.”
She smiles unashamedly at her poetic fling.
“I’m afraid she’ll have to take me as I am. There’s no way I can get all that armor in a suitcase, and my horse hates flying.”
“Okay, I’ll tell her so she won’t be disappointed. But you’re willing to go with me?”
I reach out, put my arm around Jennifer’s shoulder and pull her in close to me. She gives in to the pressure and kisses me lightly on my cheek.
“I’d love to go with you,” I reply. “I can’t wait to meet the wonderful lady who brought you into this world.”
Jennifer smiles and stops in the middle of the drive.
> “Do you really like me, Philip?”
“I’m afraid I’m getting into worse trouble than falling in ‘like’ with you, my dear. You know how I lust after your body.”
Again I pull her close to show my sincerity, only this time I’m rebuffed with a shove. no more affection I guess.
“Do you think that’s all it is with us? We just lust after each other?”
This is a time to get serious. There’s no better way to get into trouble with a woman than to make light ofsex or love at the wrong moment. They will never forget it. Twenty years later it will come up and you won’t have the slightest idea of what the hell she’s talking about. She’ll be able to describe the discussion in detail, the clothing worn, the temperature, the look on your face, the mileage on the odometer… you name it. Of course, since you can’t remember any of these things, she has free rein with the truth and she will use it ruthlessly. One must be extremely careful. A careless utterance at this juncture and those words will take on a life of their own.
“I can only speak for myself,” I say, trying not to show that I willingly carry most of the burdens of this world on my shoulders with little or no difficulty, “and I must be honest with you in this regard… I give it twenty or thirty years and then we will cool off. I’m just not into making it with old broads.”
This bit of honesty earns me another shove. If I’m not careful, I’m going to get knocked right on my ass. Also, I should learn to take my own advice, quit while you’re ahead.
“You’re terrible! Do you really think young women will be after your wrinkled old body when you’re eighty?”
“Yes, I do. Please keep in mind, though my body may be wrinkled my cash will be as flat and new as ever… and credit cards just bend… hardly ever break. Throughout history young women have had an enduring fascination with wealthy old men. I don’t know what there is about it, but it’s definitely true… they’re probably attracted to our innate wisdom. At the same time, young women have never shown a similar attraction to poor old men. I submit the reason for the difference is that wealthy old men have more all around savvy and confidence and are probably better looking.”
