Cleaning Up Her Heart

As Nicki pulled off her shirt, she thought about how, at one point in her life, she would have thought it was sexy to wash the shower in the nude - feel the warm water caress her skin, flow over her arms and run down her legs. But then again, maybe not. Maybe she would never have thought of her doing anything in the nude as sexy. She didn't really think of herself and sexy in the same sentence. Ok, she had never thought of herself and sexy in the same sentence. But, she reasoned, washing the shower in the nude would be sexy if it was someone else's body! There - now that was a sexy thought.

The effort at having to reason out her dislike of her own body just in order to have a passing thought wore Nicki down. Would she ever get over her feelings toward her body? It wasn't that she didn't like the shape of it - she actually would have thought it was a cute little round seductive body on someone else - it was just that it belonged to her. She just didn't like the idea that she had a body at all. She didn't like the fact that she felt like she was supposed to be treating it well, learning from it, appreciating it's contribution to her whole self and perhaps working toward a picture of joint mental and physical health.

Nicki had been told as a child that "fat" was disgusting. When she had blossomed at puberty (ok, before puberty!), she was told that she was developing into a lusty object for men's sexual fantasies (at least some parts of her body were doing that), and now that she was an adult, she was bombarded by a world that seemed to think that anything higher than 2% body fat was TOTALLY uncool.

Of course, it was the mind games from Nicki's childhood that had marked her the most. She had felt the fear of being abandoned if she wasn't pretty, thin and sexy enough (my God, why should a child be sexy???) for her father to display her to his cohorts. Only recently had she been able to accept that her father had not only not loved her, but that he hadn't even cared that she was a fellow human being, except in what she could do for him. It was humiliating to have spent so many years wanting someone to love her only to discover that she didn't even register as a blip on his monitor of reality.

So, no, Nicki wasn't going to get over her feelings toward her body any time soon. The action of taking off her shirt in order to wash the shower was simply a calculated move to keep from having to go home in a wet shirt. You see, the shower she was washing wasn't her own. She was washing the shower at one of the houses she cleaned. That was her job. That's what she did to make ends meet.

Well, that's not completely true. Nicki really didn't need the money. She had been the beneficiary of a reasonable life insurance policy when her husband had died in a car accident. They had been married for 5 years. Their marriage was a good one, but it had never really reached the depths of Nicki's soul. Of course, logic told her, good marriages take time.

Nicki and her husband had actually been moving into a deeper stage of understanding one another when the accident happened. A drunk driver had hit her husband's car with such force that the two cars were embedded into one another. The tow truck driver had loaded the cars up together on his flatbed, not even bothering to try to separate them.

Nicki's husband had died on the scene and the drunk driver died on the way to the hospital. Nicki was always glad that she didn't have to go through the trauma of having to go to court against the drunk driver and live with the fact that rarely do drunk drivers ever get a punishment severe enough to even slightly ease the hearts of the bereaved.

And Nicki had been bereaved. She had sat in her dark house for weeks after the funeral, trying to piece together what she was going to do now. This wasn't how her future was supposed to look. Finally, in desperation, she called up a couple of friends and asked if she could clean their houses. Her own was spotless (at least she thought it was - she actually hadn't had on the lights in a while). Her friends agreed and she found that they gave her name out to several other friends along the way. Soon, she had about 10 houses (2 a day) and she had a regular routine. It felt good to get up in the morning and have to get dressed. Well, maybe it didn't feel too good as she was doing it, but she was always glad later that she had done it. People always said that about exercise - maybe she would try that next!

By now, Nicki had taken off her shirt and her shorts. She had pulled her longish hair up into a loose bun, gathered her comet and scrub brush and climbed into the shower. She was only free to do this kind of stripped down cleaning in a few of her houses. Whenever someone was at home, she would never do it, but if it was a home where the owners worked during the day, she was fairly comfortable cleaning in her bra and panties - at least in bathrooms where the door shut and locked!

And the house that Nicki was cleaning was a safe house, all around. This house belonged to a friend of a friend. Actually it was the boss of a friend who worked in a bank. Nicki had met the man only once when she had arrived to go over what he was looking for in a housekeeper. His name was Gabriel Matthews. He was a single man who lived alone, except for every other week-end. That was the extent of his visitation rights.

The little girl looked precious from the pictures Gabriel had in his bedroom - of course, she also looked to not be that little anymore. Nicki would guess from the latest picture that she was a teen-ager. She didn't look like her dad. She had long blonde hair with laughing, sky blue eyes. Her skin was the color of ivory and her face was round and covered in freckles. She was short and solid, with a body befitting the strength of a gymnast. Her dad, on the other hand, had black hair with a fair bit of gray in it. He also had dark eyes and darker skin. His body was large, both in height and girth - manly in the XXL kind of way.

But it was in the smile that the father and daughter differed so drastically. The girl's smile could light up any room - perfect teeth accompanied an open honest view into her soul. She was a genuine joy to behold when she smiled at the camera. Her father, however, seemed to not have the slightest clue what a smile was.

Although Gabriel Matthews had no pictures of himself, Nicki could well remember his face from the interview she had had with him. He was serious and no-nonsense. Everything was matter-of-fact and straightforward. Nicki usually had no problem putting people at ease with her presence, but this man had not only preferred to stay uptight around her, he had actually told her not to expect to have any kind of friendship with him. He had commented that his last housekeeper had wanted to chit chat and that he had fired her for being so cheery. Nicki had rolled her eyes behind his back, but had demurely assured him that she understood to his face. No, he didn't appear to be the kind of man who could father a child as happy as the one she saw in the pictures.

Gabriel's house was just as cold as he was. Except for the pictures in his bedroom, everything else was impersonal and detached. It was also expensive and well designed. She imagined that he could rent it out quiet easily to company executives - they could entertain nicely with the house and then leave it - never having become attached to anything within it's walls. Nicki figured that Gabriel lived here with the same kind of attitude. Nothing even faintly resembled having been loved or cherished.

Nicki had no fear that Gabriel would walk in on her. She had been cleaning his house now for almost a year. He would leave her check by the phone. If she needed to notify him about something, she would leave a note in the same place. His work kept him busy and she had never seen him after their initial meeting, which was fine with her.

As Nicki scrubbed down the walls and rinsed off the floor, she thought about how sour the man was. Why would someone deliberately be so rude and cut off friendships before they had even started? Maybe Gabriel figured that she was hired help and not in his league. But from the frozen dinner boxes and take out containers in the trash, Nicki knew that she wasn't the only person he had cut out of his life. He seemed to live a very solitary existance.

Nicki finished up the shower and looked down at her body. She had done a reasonable job of keeping herself dry this time. She usually looked like she had been taking a shower instead of cleaning one. But her panties were dry this time and her bra only was wet around her nipples. Well, she didn't have to wear it home! She finished the rest of the bathroom and stepped back out into the bedroom.

She whipped off her bra and slipped her shirt on and pulled up her shorts. After she gathered up her cleaning supplies, she headed through the house to put everything in place. A cushion here and a piece of trash there and then she was finished. She looked back out over the living area with a nod of satisfaction and spun around to head out the door.

However, at that exact same moment, Gabriel unlocked the door from the outside and headed into his home. They collided in midflight. The both stood there shocked, trying to sort out what had happened.

Nicki was the first to speak, "Oh, I'm so sorry, I was just leaving. Are you ok?"

Gabriel was looking at her with a dark scowl, almost as if he didn't know who she was. Finally, he growled out, "I'm fine. Please don't let me stop you." He turned sideways, toward the door, and held it open, indicating that he thought her idea of leaving was an excellent one.

Nicki suppressed a desire to roll her eyes again at his rudeness. Instead, she moved to go past him. However, neither one of them was small. Although she tried to squeeze past, her whole body ended up pressed against Gabriel. He didn't offer to move, so Nicki gave up and let her breasts rub across his stomach as she left. She really didn't have a choice. She turned to say good-bye once she was outside, but when she turned the door was already shut. She couldn't resist the urge this time and stuck her tongue out at the closed door.

"What an ass!" she thought. Then she giggled. Actually, he did have a really cute ass! She had always been a connoisseur of men's backsides and he had a really nice one. She remembered a ditty that her mom used to sing, "Little Tom Toddy, all ass and no body." Well, Gabriel had a body, too, so she guessed that the song didn't really fit, but it did make her laugh. She climbed into her truck and headed home.

It had been almost two years since her husband's death. Nicki had moved out of their home at the end of the first year and moved into a little townhouse in her same neighborhood. She had very little maintenance to do and liked it that way. She laughed outloud as she walked into her own space and realized how much it was like the house she had just left. Like Gabriel, she had very little that was special or personal.

Very little that was personal that was, until you got to her bedroom. This room was filled with personal stuff. Pictures, lamps, quilts, old toys. This was the only room she felt like she really let herself go in. Here she had her TV with her collection of videos (some were even the scandalous type), her favorite pillow (it had been her dad's - she figured Freud would have a field day with why she felt a need to sleep on her hateful father's pillow) and her "toys". Nicki's version of "toys" ranged from the latest craft she was enjoying, to her newest book to her collection of vibrators. She had long ago decided that, within her bedroom walls, she ought to be able to do all the things that she wanted to do. No one else entered the room and she liked it that way. It was her private sanctuary.

Nicki wasn't expecting visitors, so she slipped off her shoes and pulled off her shorts. She stretched out across her bed and shut her eyes. It had been a long time since she had taken a nap during the day and she never dreamed she would actually go to sleep! Nicki was shocked to open her eyes and realize that an hour and a half had passed. She was just going back down the hall to try to get some ideas for supper when the doorbell rang.

Having forgotten that she was only wearing her shirt and panties, Nicki went to answer the door. When she opened it, she frowned. Gabriel Matthews was standing on her doorstep. He looked as darkly angry as ever. But he also looked like he was frozen in stone. He had his mouth open looking as though he were about to yell at her, but no sound was coming out. She followed the path of his eyes to her legs and realized that she was only partially dressed. Her face contorted in a grimace at her own absentmindedness, but she also determined that if he was going to show up unannounced at her home, he would just have to take what he got! Anyway, her t-shirt covered her panties, so it wasn't like he could see anything revealing.

"Yes? Can I help you, Mr. Matthews?" Nicki asked in her most professional voice.

Gabriel seemed to snap out of a trance and looked at her somewhat confused. Then he shook his head clear of some invisible cobwebs and answered her. "What is the meaning of this Ms. Marsh?" He was waving something in the air beside his head. He had it clinched in his fist and was acting as though it was his battle flag.

"It's Mrs. Marsh, and what is the "this" you are talking about, Mr. Matthews? I can't tell you the meaning of something that I can't figure out what it is!" Nicki was getting angry at the man for being so unbearably annoying. She wanted to slam the door in his face, but she was trying to go for dignified. Of course, she was in her panties so maybe dignified wasn't quiet possible!

"This!" Gabriel practically shouted at her. This time, he held the object up in front of her.

Nicki's eyes got as big as saucers. "Oh, my God!!!" Nicki looked down at her chest as if accusing it of betraying her, then she reached up and grabbed the object out of Gabriel's hand. She gathered her thoughts and figured that cold, hard logic was called for, "That, Mr. Matthews, is a bra. My bra. If you don't recognize what it is, perhaps you should pay a little more attention to the world around you."

Ok, it was a lame response, but she was shocked. She had forgotten to pick the damn thing up after she took it off in his bedroom. She was mortified that he had found it on his bed and was sure that he figured she had done wanton and unmentionable things in his own home - more precisely, in his own bed.

Gabriel looked at her like he couldn't believe she was talking back to him. Again, he opened his mouth as if to say something, then shut it.

Nicki decided that she needed to handle this a little better, "Mr. Matthews, if you would come inside, I can explain." She wondered just exactly what she was going to explain. Let's see, "I strip to wash your bathroom" somehow didn't sound as innocent as it really was. But anything was better than standing on her porch yelling at each other.

Gabriel looked like he was going to make a loud retort, but suddenly, his attitude sagged and he drug his hand through his thick hair. "Fine. I don't know how you are going to explain this one, but I am going to enjoy listening to you try." Well, he was still being an overbearing jerk, but at least he wasn't angry anymore.

As Nicki led the way into her living room, she wondered if he noticed the similarities between their homes. She doubted that he noticed much about other people. However, she was now holding the bra that he had obviously noticed. Maybe she was wrong about him. "Please sit down and make yourself comfortable."

"You act like this is a social call, Ms. Marsh."

"Again, Mr. Matthews, it's Mrs. Marsh, but I would prefer that you call me Nicki. After all, I do know what kind of underwear you wear, since I fold it every week, and, now you obviously know what kind I wear. It seems odd to remain on such formal terms in light of the circumstances."

"All right, Nicki," he said, sarcastically. "Would you mind explaining why a "Mrs. Marsh" would leave her underwear in another man's bedroom? Or isn't "Mr. Marsh" doing an adequate job?"

Nicki's eyes flew open, "I've known a lot of jackasses in my life, Mr. Matthews, but you take the cake. My husband is dead - has been for two years now. So, no, I guess he isn't doing everything I want him to be doing. But trust me, even dead, he's a better man than you are living!" Nicki's voice was raised in her anger. Never, never had she been face to face with such an arrogant . . . no, that wasn't true, her dad had been just as nasty. So, yeah, she had been in this position before, and she didn't like it any better this time than she had in the past.

Gabriel stood there, his face emotionless. She wondered what was going on behind the mask. Actually, she wondered if he was going to hit her, or if she was going to hit him. The physical tension in the room was stifling.

Gabriel wanted to die. How could he have gotten this far out of control? What had happened to him. When he had met Nicki Marsh a year ago, he had realized that he was in trouble. She was cute, sweet and lovable. It had only taken a moment in her presence to realize that she would be a force for his heart to reckon with. He had been the worst kind of brute to her, assuring her that she would not be his friend and she would not be seeing him again. And his plan had worked well. For a year, he had come home every Thursday and laid down on his bed and breathed in her scent. In addition to cleaning his house, she left it warm and inviting simply from having been there. He dreaded for the minutes to pass that caused her presence to evaporate away.

But he had had enough of relationships. It was far better to keep this woman relegated to the fantasy world. After all, she was just a woman, and all women had one thing in common - using anything they had to get what they wanted. His ex-wife had taken him to court over and over to get more money and used his love of their daughter to get it. Only yesterday, he had received notice that she wanted him in court once again. Women were NOT worth his effort.

However, when he had run into Nicki earlier today as she was leaving his house, he had been aware of a different kind of effort on his part. It was the effort to not take her in his arms and kiss her startled face. He had actually forgotten she would be there until he pulled into the driveway. After all, he almost never left work early. But when he saw her car in the cul-de-sac, he had known there was a chance that he could see her. Fear, excitement, dread, lust, and desire had coursed through his body all at once. And being Gabriel Matthews, the best face when one was unsure of his feelings, was animosity.

So Nicki had encountered his cold and detached face when she ran into him. The feeling of her breasts as she had to squeeze past him had burned into his soul. He had practically slammed the door shut to keep from yanking her bodily back inside. Then, when he had finally gotten to the sanctity of his room, he had thrown himself across the bed and found his face in a bra.

A bra? His brain had momentarily wondered whose it was. Then he laughed out loud - it wasn't like there were a lot of options for the owner! Other than his daughter, no one else, female or male, had been in his house for months. And from the looks of the bra, it sure wasn't his daughter's! Joy had surged through his heart as he realized that he was holding HER bra - Nicki's bra. It was still damp with her sweat and filled with her scent. He sniffed it loudly. Then reality hit him. Why was her bra in his bed? My God, was she entertaining men in his house? The thought of her with another man made his blood boil. He suddenly was seized with a burning fury to know what she had done in his bed.