This is the tale of a man in his 40's, who loses his wife. Then, he meets a ghost (which, depending on your point of view about ghosts, may or may not require you to suspend your reality checks). That leads, in its own strange way, to him meeting the woman of his future, who is also in her 40's. This is primarily a romance. It just comes about in a bit of a different way.
And, there is little actual sex, though it too, has a bit of a twist.
This is my entry for the Nude Day 2020 Contest, so please vote if you read the whole story. I really appreciate comments, as they confirm, or add perspective to, my awareness of what this audience appreciates, or dislikes. However, pedantic nit-picking comments that do not comment on the storyline will be deleted.
THE CHANCE AT WILLOW MANOR
"This is IT!" she said, as her voice rose in pitch, to a near squeal. That was her first comment as we pulled into the tree-lined drive, and the manor house came into view.
"You haven't even seen the inside, Jill. They said no one has lived here since the 70's. It might be a wreck!"
"Teddy, you can make it look so beautiful. Your architectural skills have made everything you have touched look spectacular...just, spectacular."
I chuckled in my mind, as she had, once again, used her favorite word, "spectacular." But, still in discouraging mode, I continued, "Jill, there are 20 acres here! Think of all the grounds maintenance that'll be required."
"But, Teddy! Just think what it'd be like to sit on that upper porch in the morning sun. This is where I want to be...when..."
"Jill, the renovations could take years...and you don't..."
"No, I don't, Teddy. You know, as well as I, that they told us one, maybe two. But when my time comes, you can put me under that weeping willow, and I can look back at this grand house, and this porch."
I stopped the car, and then went around and opened her door.
"Please don't talk about that," I pleaded, "And I want to spend the time with you, not managing a major remodeling project."
"You'll still have plenty of time for me, and you'll be around a lot. You know it won't happen to me suddenly, so you'll have plenty of warning. Now please, put the key they gave us in that lock and let me see the inside!"
I sighed, knowing it would probably take a gaping hole in the roof for her to drop her enthusiasm back to a level that I could have any hope of containing. I opened the door.
"Oh! There it is, Teddy! The double curving staircase, the chandelier, the vintage skylight...this is why I said we had to move to the south. Nothing in Michigan was this spectacular!"
The manor wasn't really as bad as my worst fears...just only as bad as my lesser fears. "It will take a month just to get this place dusted!" I sighed. I knew I was reaching. I could see all the work and upheaval ahead. I envisioned half-peeled wall paper, scaffolds and drop cloths everywhere, walls torn open for new wiring...nothing looking completed. Jill may not live long enough to see even a single room finished. And there I would be in the middle of this upheaval, holding her hand as all that charming personality, that I loved so much and had married her for, just seeped up into the ether and out of my life.
"Teddy, Please! This is everything I dreamed of. Just do your best! I will never complain, nor blame you for anything that's not finished. I just want to see its progress. Let me imagine how beautiful it will be when you're done!"
"When we're done," I corrected.
"Maybe," she said, as her eyes wandered into the corners of the two-story ceiling.
"House: 1, My Future: 0."
I grimaced to myself.
=+=+=+=+=+=+=
The house took 2½ years, and it was magnificent. I had retained much of it retained classic elements, while utilizing many modern details. Such as, indirect LED lighting, which added a flair that something built in the 1840's could never have hoped for. Jill got to see her kitchen nearly completed, the master bedroom and bath were far enough along to recognize their potential, the library was complete except for the shelving, and her grand entrance room only needed its final paint. Now, I prayed that she liked the view from under that weeping willow, where she had been for the last year.
It was such beautiful home. It was large, grand, sparkling, and...empty. Some evenings, I couldn't turn the TV up loud enough to drown out the emptiness of not having Jill in my life. Moments came, and were quickly dismissed, where I thought I should sell this place, and escape its memories. Yet I knew, in my heart, that I was committed to keeping Jill's dream.
And it was Jill's grace that my mind replayed, too often, from the last time we had made love. It was the last time she had the strength to project her love of me through sex, as she gently rocked, forcing me deep inside her. As she began calming from the last orgasm I ever knew her to have, she whispered, "Promise me one thing, Teddy."
"Anything, Jill...anything," I whispered back.
She settled on top of me, and spoke softly into my ear, "Ted, you're a good man...but you're a great one when you're in love. Don't let your greatness end with me. Promise me you won't let my memory get in the way of you loving again?!"
As I sniffled against her ear, I could only form a "But..." before further words failed me.
"No 'Buts' at all, Theodore Taegen!" she said, squeezing her cheek tight to me, "I'm not going to spend the rest of your life watching you be sad, or lonely, or unhappy, or unloved...or any other 'Un...'!"
"I will try," I said, as my tears ran onto her cheek.
"Not 'will try'," Jill commanded, "Just 'will'!"
=+=+=+=+=+=+=
The last thing to get finished was my office. At 48 years old, I knew I had plenty of ideas left in me, and now I had my first proposals to complete, since moving to the South. I was hoping this home would be an advertisement for my talents.
Moving out the last pieces of construction equipment, I put them in the storage area, which I had included in the newly built garage, behind the house. As I closed the doors, I looked farther back on the property at the old, dilapidated servant/slave quarters. As I had been continually busy with the manor house for so long, I'd never done more than walk around those quarters.
I pondered what I should do with them. There were eight buildings originally, one larger than the rest. It, and three others, were still standing, though those three looked too feeble to be safe to enter. Should I try to preserve all of them, both for their character and history? Or, should I tear them down for safety and to reduce my insurance costs?
I wandered out to the larger building to start my examination. I gingerly pulled on the door, and the hinges immediately broke loose. I lifted the door and moved it aside. Vertical blades of light knifed through the gaps in the simple plank walls, giving enough light for my eyes to see an old table tilted onto one corner from a broken leg. Another pile of finished wood shapes seemed to indicate the passing of a chair.
Then, there was a moderate creak and groan from the wood somewhere in here, and I hurriedly scanned the room for any dangers of collapse. Seeing no problems, not even dust floating in those slices of sunlight, I took a couple more steps inside. The creaks and groans were louder this time, and I looked around my feet for indications of loose or weakened boards.
When I looked back up, I froze. Her eyes shown like the headlights of a car in the night, as her skin was so dark. Despite my shock, my mind registered the beauty of her form, as ribbons of light played over her. And there was a lot to see, as she had no clothes. I could not see her face too clearly, for it was burrowed in the shadows, but those eyes glowed with fear.
"Who are you?" I asked, in the most reassuring tone my shocked brain could compose.
"Please, Suh! Don't hurt me!" lips below those eyes pleaded, over a backdrop of white teeth.
"I don't want to hurt you," I said, "But I need to know who you are and why you are on my land? And without clothes?"
"Suh," she started, faltering, "My name is Emmi-Anne...and I live here. But, I don't what has happened!"
"You live here?" I gently asked, as my mind scurried about, searching for possible scenarios in which her presence would make any sense.
"Yes, suh!" she announced, with some authority, "but my home is so broken and I don't know how that happened. And my clothes are just gone, too, suh! Please, suh, do not think me a harlot. I am shamed to have you see me in this way!"
"It's not safe in here," I proclaimed, "Let's get you out of here!"
"You own this land?" she asked, with obvious concern.
"Yes, I do. I bought it over two years ago. Now let's get you out of this place before it falls around our ears," I said, as I extended my hand to assist her.
"If you own Willow Manor, then you own me, too, suh," she said, matter-of-factly, "So, I do whatevers you please."
My mind reeled that she thought I could "own" her, but I kept my hand out and wiggled my fingers for her to reach for it.
"You want me to touch you, suh?" she exclaimed, "You, honestly, want my slave skin against my master's?"
"YES!" I barked, a bit too sharply, while disliking being called "master."
Emmi-Anne reached for my hand, and her fingers passed through mine. I don't mean her fingers slipped through my fingers, I mean the substance of her hand just passed right through my flesh! It left the faintest sense of an energy, rather like a glow, residing in my hand. I gasped, and stepped back.
She looked like she'd seen a ghost, as she pulled her hand quickly back, and the blazing white eyes became as round as they could go. "Lordy! Are you come kind of spirit!?" she nearly yelled.
We both paused, stupefied, as our eyes hunted in the other's for the truth of what had just happened. Finally, I cautiously said, "I am no spirit. I'm as real as you are!"
"How is such a thing possible!?" Emmi-Anne exclaimed, as she examined her own hands.
Taking a deep breath, to try to slow the adrenaline that raced through me, I offered my hand and said, "Let's try it again. And,'No', no harm will come to you if you touch me. I don't have any concerns about contact with a black woman...or person."
Her hand eased towards mine, in hesitating steps. She finally placed her fingers on my palm...and they disappeared into my skin. "Lordy, lordy! This must be evil spirits!"
I was surprised that she didn't pull back. Instead she brought her other hand forward and tried to grasp my wrist. He fingers curled into themselves, with none of me in her grasp.
She gasped, "It is my hand that hides inside yours! Your skin does not disappear! Am I the spirit?!"
