I said softly, “You are. Or that’s because of something else,” and I looked significantly down at her breasts and the fact that her nipples were large and hard.
She said, “Yes! My body knows what’s going on and it doesn’t lie. But, I’m not ready. I am, but I’m not.”
I said, “I understand. I’m not either. Part of us may be, but other parts are not. Brenda, I haven’t been with a woman since my wife died two years ago. Just like you, I didn’t come here to meet someone.”
Brenda said, “But you did. Just out of curiosity, how do you know that I didn’t?”
I said, “For one thing, you didn’t pack the right clothes.”
She said, “No I did not. And now that you let me say it, I hate these clothes.”
I said, “I have a plan. I always have a plan. We’re going shopping. Put on the least offensive, or the most if you want to, and let’s go buy you something new. You don’t even have a swimsuit.”
She frowned and said, “Yeah. I don’t feel good in them.”
I said, “You will. Very soon, you will.”
I used kind of a “Yoda voice” and she smiled and said, “Do or do not, there is no try.”
Then she said, “OK. How do I really feel about this stuff? I guess that I feel the most OK in the shorts and shirt that I was wearing. Should I put that on?”
I shrugged and she picked up a pair of panties to start getting dressed.
I said, “Whoa. No undies. If they don’t make you feel fabulous, don’t let them touch you.”
She pursed her lips and put the underwear down. She pulled on her shorts without them. Picking up the bra, she held it up to me and I shook my head. She frowned and set it down. Pulling on her T-Shirt, she adjusted it and tried to see what she looked like. I took her to the mirror in the room and had her look at herself.
She said, “Really? No bra? What about my nipples. And everyone will know.”
I said, “Yeah. Everyone will know that you aren’t wearing a bra. A lot of women here don’t wear bras. I bet they don’t bother with underwear either. I never do. Not while I’m here. Look at yourself and tell me how you look.”
She said, “Honestly, I look good. I look like I don’t care about bras. I look like I like my breasts and that’s just how it is. I look truthful. Hell, I look wholesome!”
I said, “Yes you do. Are you ready?”
She gave herself another look in the mirror and then shook her torso a little to see what would happen.
She announced, “I am. I am ready. Let’s face the world in a new way.”
I said, “Great. Let’s pack up your bag and we’ll throw all of this stuff away on the way downstairs. Grab anything else that you don’t actually need and throw it in the bag too. Brenda is getting a whole new life, starting now.”
Brenda looked through her things and set her keys aside. Then she handed me her driver’s license and asked me to hold onto it for her. She went to the bathroom and got her make-up case and added it to the pile of things that she didn’t need. In the end, she kept her checks, cards, and keys. She set those on the nightstand.
She said, “We can destroy those later. I guess all the rest goes.”
I smiled and she smiled back. She started to slip on her sandals but at the last moment looked up at me. I shook my head and she grinned and put the footwear in the bag of trash as well.
I said, “The keys. What are they for?”
She frowned and picked up the keys and said, “Um, this is a house key to a place I don’t live anymore. This is a car key to a car I sold before I came. This is a mailbox key to an address that I don’t own now.”
I said, “And the trinkets?”
She smiled and said, “Absolutely meaningless.”
I said, “Burial at sea?”
She said, “Hell yeah!”
I said, “Can I carry them for you?”
She handed me the keys and said, “That is very kind of you. I’ve never had anyone willing to carry a burden for me.”
This time, I held her hand as we left the room. She carried her old life in the travel bag herself. For now, that was still her burden and I wasn’t going to carry that one.
I did have her bank cards and checkbook and keys.
Chapter 3 - Walking Out
We came to a trash can near the elevators and I said simply, “No,” and Brenda held onto her bag as we waited for the doors to open to take us downstairs.
When we came to the ground floor, I headed us straight to the beach. Walking along the sidewalk separating the resort grounds from the sand, I stopped at the first garbage can and told Brenda to put about a third of her stuff in. We walked farther and she emptied a second third into the next one we came to. A little farther down, she dropped the remainder into the can and we kept moving.
There was no ceremony or memorial. I asked her how she felt.
She said, “Honest. Free. Lighter.”
I said, “Good. Hey, you’ve been here for a few days. You’ve looked around. Where should we get clothes that you will feel delighted with?”
She said, “Not at the hotel. Down here in the direction we are headed. There’s this little shack sort of place.”
I said, “I know the place. And there’s a little outdoor mall next to it across the parking lot.”
Brenda said, “Can we start with a dress?”
I didn’t say anything at first.
She took a breath and said, “Is that weird? That I asked you for permission?”
I said, “First of all, it isn’t permission. It’s consent.”
She said, “Right. Because I don’t need your permission. But I want your consent.”
We kept walking. It wasn’t far. We passed a few really nice places to eat and a shop where they rented beach stuff.
Brenda said, “Oh wow! I get it. Roland, I’m not wearing a bra or panties. I’m Naked. And when I dropped the bag in that last can, I felt…I guess I felt prettier. I was going to say lighter but honestly, I feel prettier. I’d never say that. Anyway, I’m not wearing any underwear. But the point is that I could be. You told me that I shouldn’t, not that I couldn’t. I could have. But I’m not. Why?”
I said, “Brenda, if you were wearing that old bra and panties right now, what would you be missing out on?”
She said, “Let me think. Oh, crap! Roland, do you know how long it’s been since I really thought about anything? Damn, what a question. What would I be missing out on? Let me see. OK, first this feeling. Oh, I wouldn’t be missing it because I wouldn’t have known about it.”
I said, “But do you like it?”
She said, “I do. I like it a lot. Emotionally. It’s not bad physically either.”
I said, “And what about the fact that I know that you are bra-less and even know what you look like without the T-Shirt, too?”
She squeezed my hand and grinned and said, “Thrilled. I feel thrilled now that you mention it.”
I said, “And what would you be missing out on?”
She said, “Well, not these feelings. Like I said, I wouldn’t miss them if I didn’t know that they existed. So, what? Um, you would still be here. I know that. It wasn’t a thing that I had to or you would leave. Or even like me less. You really aren’t a jerk. I am having what? An incredible experience. This is so wonderful. The weight of my old things. Knowing that my old keys and cards are in your pocket and that you will tell me what to do with them and that I don’t have to. It’s like math or something. You can’t tell me what to do, but you can tell me the right answer! Is that it?”
When I didn’t respond, except to hold her hand, she said, “Yeah. I tried to put on panties because I always did. In the past. So wait, you aren’t wearing underwear?”
I shook my head.
She grinned and said, “Maybe we should hold hands in your pocket. Maybe my hand is cold and I need you to let me warm it up in your pocket.”
I laughed and said, “Brenda, I’m having enough trouble keeping it
from becoming apparent that I’m not wearing underwear. It’s one thing for you to be bra-less, but if I get a boner it wouldn’t be the same at all. I’d get arrested.”
She laughed and we held hands.
She said, “OK, but back to our lessons for a minute. OK, I tried to put on panties. You said no. But not, ‘no, you can’t wear underwear’, but ‘no, that isn’t the right answer’ to my questions. Oh, the question is who am I? Underwear isn’t the answer. And the bra! It was what?”
I said, “It looked like armor.”
She said, “And it was! It totally was! But Roland, I felt good having you tell me the answers! I’d never feel good being told what to do though. Oh, why can’t you know what’s right for me in some cases? If we discussed it, we could both give an opinion and one of us could be more right than the other. You told me what you thought the right answer was!”
I said, “And what would you have missed out on if you had answered differently?”
She said, “What? Roland, I don’t know. Teach me. If I don’t know the answer, tutor me so that I will know next time.”
I said, “Opportunity.”
She looked thoughtful and said, “Opportunity. I would have missed out on this opportunity. The opportunity to feel the way that I am feeling right now. Honest, free, lighter, prettier. But now there’s another question. One I keep asking myself. If I tell you the answer, do I miss an opportunity. If I don’t tell you, do I miss an opportunity? What should I do? This time you can’t tell me. And first I have to tell myself. And what will I say? And can this be? And what will you do when you know the answer?”
We were almost to the shop when Brenda said, “Tell me about yourself. This is a first date now, right? Share your profile.”
I said, “Sure. Happily. My name is Roland Jackson. My friends tend to call me Ron. I’m 60 years old. I was married once. My wife died two years ago. I haven’t been in any kind of romantic relationship since. I would like to meet someone to share my life with again. I am a writer. That’s how I make my living now. I started writing while my wife was ill and I published my first books two years ago, just before she died. I got lucky. People liked them and bought them. I was able to retire from my other career and write full-time.”
She said, “What’s really important to you in a relationship?”
I said, “Like in a marriage?”
She nodded and maybe blushed slightly. I was surprised. She had only been free of her ex-husband for a few days.
I said bluntly, “Sex. Good sex and companionship.”
She said, “Sex? Just like that?”
I said, “Yeah. There are a lot of reasons to be together, but if you are going to be in the same bed, I think that if it doesn’t include great sex, you’re just roommates or brother and sister. You, I mean I, need companionship. Someone on a similar path, walking a similar road. A best friend. But it should be best friends and lovers. I want mutuality. Oneness. Togetherness. And sex.”
Brenda said, “I don’t think I’ve ever really had good sex.”
I said, “I don’t know if I have either. I was married for a long time. I have a son and a daughter. Both married now. No grandchildren yet.”
We walked into the shop and Brenda said “I guess I’ll tell you what you don’t know about me in a little bit. Tell me what I need. A dress. Let’s see.”
Brenda went to various racks and looked at dresses. Most were some kind of floral tropical prints. Bright colors.
She held something up and I said, “No. Too flow-y. No shape. Too much like a tent.”
Brenda smiled and looked for another minute and held up something else.
I said, “No. To girlish. Too young. And it won’t fit you.”
Brenda looked at the tag and said, “Oh, you are so right. OK, then what? I guess I don’t have an eye for this right now.”
I marched straight to a rack and pulled off a yellow dress with a belted waist and a skirt that would go to her knees.
Brenda eyed it and said, “Really?”
I pointed to the back of the store where there was a curtained changing room and Brenda took the dress and headed that direction. Standing in front of a mirror, she held it up to herself and looked at her reflection. I held open the curtain and Brenda went inside the little booth.
I stood nearby and a few minutes later she opened the curtain and came out wearing the dress. Taking a look in the full-length mirror, she turned this way and that to see how the dress moved. It flared from her waist beautifully. It was cut out in the back and showed a good amount of skin. The front was fully covered and the bodice was shaped in a way that made her breasts look shapely with just the right amount of containment, hiding the details. She looked natural, not naked.
She said, “It’s nice.”
I said, “And when you picture us sitting at that beach-side grill that we passed on the way here, how do you feel?”
Brenda continued looking at herself in the mirror and said, “I feel elegant. Simple. Womanly. Loved. Excited. Protected. And like the skirt is long enough and loose enough that I don’t have to be self-conscious about the fact that I won’t be wearing underwear.”
I smiled and said, “That’s exactly what I wanted to hear. Not the part about the underwear, the other stuff.”
She grinned and said, “Kiss me.”
I was surprised, but this was a game, so I did. I stepped forward and took her in my arms and kissed her. As I did, her right foot rose behind her in a classic pose.
She laughed and said, “Yep. The field test seems successful. I’ll take it.”
I said, “Do you want anything else here?”
She looked at me slyly and said, “You tell me.”
I said, “You need at least one more. But I don’t see it here. You do need sandals or flip-flops though. The parking lot over to the other shops is pretty rough.”
She smiled and said, “OK. Pick some out.”
I said, “No. I can give you an opinion, but you should pick out shoes. Wait. No. Just a pair of flip-flops. These. Black. Trust me.”
She said, “You can’t believe how much I trust you right now.”
I had her find her size and we had the shop-girl take the tag out of the dress while Brenda was still wearing it. I paid with a debit card and we left the shop.
On the way out, Brenda linked her arm in mine and held herself close against my side.
I whispered, “Did you just leave your shorts and shirt in the changing room?”
She said, “I did. Follow me.”
Brenda knew where she wanted to go now and I went with her. The first stop surprised me.
Walking into an office that arranged tours and tourist attractions, Brenda approached the desk and said, “I need to shred some things real quick. Can I use your shredder?”
The girl working at the desk agreed and Brenda took her cards and checkbook from me and fed them into the machine at the side of the desk. When she was done, she asked for brochures for the chocolate plantation tour and the canal float trip and thanked the girl. As soon as we were out of sight, she dropped the brochures in the trash.
She said, “I just took these to make it look like we were interested. I only have to be truly honest with you, not everyone. If we go on one of these adventures, I want it to be a surprise though. Now we need to go in here.”
“Here” was a jewelry store. Brenda had me wait outside while she went in and talked to the jeweler. When she came out, I noticed that she wasn’t wearing her wedding ring. I didn’t say anything.
Brenda breathed a sigh of relief and said, “I feel really good. What now? Oh, hold onto this for me,” and she handed me an envelope that obviously had cash in it; apparently whatever she had gotten from the jewelry store for her ring.
I said, “A bathing suit.”
She balked and said, “Roland, no, I don’t think I can.”
I didn’t pay any attention to her objections yet and turned into a swimwear store nearby.
; I said, “You are going to go up to that woman who works here and tell her that you need a new swimsuit. It has to be deep blue, very high cut, one-piece, and back-less. I’ll be right beside you. Brenda, remember looking in the mirror. Remember how you looked in your T-Shirt with no bra. Remember how you look in this dress. And remember how you look when you see your reflection in my eyes when I look at you. Now go. Be brave. Be Brenda. Be honest.”
Brenda looked at me with a hint of awe and then approached the store employee.
After being asked if the wanted something, Brenda said, “Yes. I need a swimsuit. Something nice. I want it to be high cut on the sides. Backless. I like blue, I think.”
The woman said that she would be happy to help her find something and led Brenda to a rack. Looking at Brenda and then at the sizes, she held something up. Brenda glanced at me and I shook my head slightly.
Brenda said, “Do you have something that will show a bit more leg?”
The woman said, “I do. Yes. I actually think that it will look very good on you. You will look good in it. I’m glad that you want to go that way. OK, what size would you like to try?”
Brenda told her and the woman handed her a suit and then a second in a different size.
She said, “Forgive me, but sizes vary a lot. Choose the one that you like. The changing room is there.”
Brenda took the suits and headed for the curtained booth. She was gone for a minute and then the curtain opened.
She said, “Roland, I don’t know. Is it OK?”
I stepped really close and made sure that no one could see what I was about to do. I was going to be bold and honest in a way that I’d never been before.
I said, “Let me see.”
I reached down to where the leg opened above her hip and slid the fingers of my right hand into the suit at her waist. Sliding downward, I ran my fingers all the way to her crotch and when I got there, I dragged the knuckle of my middle finger over her clit and all the way down her slit.
Island Cultural Center Page 3
