A Tough Girl from Montana - Part 1 - A Tearful Date
Chapter 1 - Paired Up at a Pool Party
*
My new neighbor Norm’s pool party was in full swing when I showed up. He stuffed a margarita into my hand and introduced me to other neighbors. I was taking a long sip of the cactus juice and lime when his wife Francie came up with a woman in tow.
“Michael, this is my friend Adele Lawrence, visiting from Montana. She’s not paired up and neither are you, so please be nice to her in the middle of all this neighborhood fun.”
Adele was about my height, with striking good looks, an even more striking body, and shoulder length blond hair. I looked down to see if she had on heels. No such luck, just fashion sneakers.
“What are you looking at?” she said.
I said sheepishly, “I’m not used to good looking women as tall as I am. I was checking to see if you had on heels.”
“I’m sorry, you’ll just have to look at me straight across,” she said, breaking a small smile. Her dark eyes did not go with her hair.
“Or you could spend your time looking down at my boobs. A lot of guys do that.” She had a medium sized chest that looked all real in a pale yellow sundress. If she had on a bra, it was whisper thin.
Her hands were empty, so I said, “Norm’s margaritas are excellent, may I get you one?”
“I’m not much into hard liquor these days, but if you can get me one that is half the size of yours, I’d like that.”
When I came back with the drink, she was chatting with a guy who matched the predatory married male profile.
I handed the drink to Adele, and he said, “Oh hi, you must be Michael Llewelyn, who bought the Johnson house on the hill. I’m Walt Hungerford. Sue and I live down the street a block. I was just saying hello to Adele.”
I responded, “Yes, I see that.” And waited for him to take the cue and disappear. It took half a minute of Adele and me looking at him before the message penetrated and he stepped away.
“You do a nice alpha male rendition, Michael. I like that in a guy when I’m on a date.”
She added, straightfaced, “We are on a date, aren’t we? We have to follow Francie’s instructions?”
I said, “I haven’t been on a blind date in years, but all of a sudden I’m feeling excited. Let’s go over by the pool and have blind date talk.”
She took my hand as though we really were on a date and walked me over to a pair of chairs under an umbrella with some slanting sun still on us.
“How do you know Norm and Frances?” I said.
“She and I grew up and went to high school together in Wisconsin. We were very close, but I went west to Montana for college and she came east to Smith. We made a promise to each other to rendezvous at least once a year, and so far, it’s worked. What brings you to the Hudson River Valley?”
“Nothing planned. It’s a complicated story, but let’s just say I survived a series of lucky and unlucky breaks and have a chance at age forty-one to figure out what I want to do with the rest of my life. No attachments, no entanglements, and enough money to get by.”
I added, “So where’s home for you now?”
“I went to Montana State to be an engineer. My dad was an engineer from MSU, I was his only kid, who he raised by himself, and I wanted to follow his steps. But like a lot of freshman dreams, it didn’t take. I hated calculus, I loved skiing and climbing and running on the track team. So I skied and ran my way through school. You remember the gentlemen’s C average? Well, I got a gentlewoman’s C average with a lot of history and psychology on my transcript.”
I said, “Wow. What does an outdoor girl from Montana do now?”
Norm interrupted with a call for dinner. “There’s steak here at the grill in whatever color you want, there’s vegetarian lasagna for the vegans, and there’s lots of salad.”
I followed Adele to the picnic tables. The view from the rear was as good as from the front. Bad thoughts went through my mind.
We sat with some neighbors and their teenage kids, trading news and views and the frustrations of being not-quite-adults. The group seemed to be a mix of well off professionals willing to put up with the hour long commute to New York, and affluent locals who ran village businesses. Adele’s description of Montana State as a backwoods school where you actually had to study sparked interest. One girl asked, “What was the best thing and the worst thing that happened to you in college?”
“The best thing was being captain of the women’s track team when we won the state championship. The worst thing was discovering I didn’t have the talent or ambition to be an engineer like my dad and having to go home and tell him that. I cried all night.”
Francie was walking by and when she heard this, spoke up, saying, “But tell them what you do now and how it all worked out.”
Adele had a direct, engaging way of speaking that had everyone around us listening intently. “Well, in the winter, I run the Nordic Center at Big Sky, and in the summer, I’m the leader of an EMT team with the Montana Firefighters. They’re both hard jobs but I love them. I hope all of you use school as a way to find yourselves like I did, and then go do it.”
One of the dads said in the silence that followed, “Kids, you just heard some great advice right from the horse’s mouth.”
Adele looked a little upset at the sudden seriousness. As conversation started up again, I reached for her hand and whispered, “That was awfully nice of you. Not talking down, just laying it out.”
She was quiet for a minute, then said, “Can I ask you a date question?”
I squeezed her hand and looked at her. She looked back at me, smiled and said, “Can we ditch this party and take a tour of your new house?”
Holding her hand, I stood up. “Your wish is my command. I’ll tell Norm his party is great but we have another pressing engagement.”
She laughed and said, “I’ll get my sweater and meet you out front.”
As we strolled up the street, Adele asked, “Do you work, did you work?”
“I’ve got degrees in economics from Berkeley and Chicago, and I write a small circulation newsletter on macroeconomic trends for institutional investors.”
She squeezed my hand and said, “That sounds like a lot of work to me. “
“It used to be my life 24/7. I published a few articles based on my dissertation that were well reviewed. Then a mutual fund guy that was a classmate at Berkeley asked me to send him a monthly memo. His boss said it was the best stuff he’d seen in a while and told my friend to put me on retainer. Then some of them got passed around and publicly praised, so I changed it to a subscription basis because I wasn’t giving targeted advice, just insights into what might be moving markets.
“Then all of a sudden I had 50 subscribers at $10,000 a year and I was scrambling to keep everyone happy and making money from my “insights.” I did that for ten years. I never saw my friends because I was trying so hard to write the world’s best financial newsletter. My long time girl friend left me, and then my mother called one morning to say my dad was dead from a heart attack at fifty-six.
“After we buried my father, I realized I was headed for the same early death unless I changed my outlook on life. My dad’s lawyer said his patent royalties would pay mom’s and my bills for a long, long time. So I put the newsletter on extended vacation, got into fitness, started yoga classes, started meditation, hiked the AT, did all sorts of crazy things. One day I realized the makeover wasn’t really working. Down deep, I still wanted to do that newsletter. But just a newsletter, not a recipe for quick demise.”
I paused and said, “God, I’m just running off at the mouth. Sorry.” We were turning up my driveway. Adele put her arm around me and said, “After the tour, can I hear the rest of the story?”
I laughed, wrapped my arm around us and kissed her ear. “Sure. Can I bore you some more with the history of this place?”
“Please do.” Her hand turned my head and her lips met mine, gently. “This is the best blind date I’ve ever been on. I don’t have to go back to Norm and Francie right away, do I?”
“What if I turn on the hot tub and it warms up while we do the tour. Does a little soak sound ok?”
“More than ok. Lead on. Do I call you Mike or Michael or?”
“When I was in school, my friends called me jerk, or nerd, or weirdo, because I was usually getting more A’s than they were.”
We were in the house now, and she pressed me against the wall, whispering, “I’m going to call you W, for wonderful weirdo. You can call me Addie.” Then she kissed me again before I could respond. It was warm and wet and lasted a long time. When she finally backed away, I saw she was blushing.
Looking at her, I wondered if I was poaching on someone else’s woman. Would it spoil the evening if I asked? I decided to take a chance.
“That was pretty hot stuff for a first date! Do I get to reciprocate or is there a guy out there you’re with?”
She reached up and grabbed me by the ears, pulling me down to her lips. “Yes, yes, there’s a stud like you in every town. Handsome, rich, smart, sexy, every woman’s dream! Don’t I wish!” Then she started in kissing again, as though the supply of me would run out soon.
I ran my fingers through her hair and said, “The hot tub’s not getting warmed up while we’re doing this.”
“If we stop, you have to promise me that wasn’t the last kiss of the evening.”
“I promise you that wasn’t the last kiss of the evening.”
We both laughed as I led her to the rear deck and the tub. I flipped the switches for the heater and the pump. She helped me lift the heavy top off the old fashioned redwood tub.
I showed her the console where the lights and jacuzzi controls were, at the edge of the tub.
“So, this is where the grand seduction takes place?” Adele asked.
I pulled her into a small alcove to the side, opened a cabinet and showed her the sign posted within.
“January 1994
RULES FOR THE HOT TUB
No Clothes Allowed in Tub.