The Chronicles of Mar and Jennifer

Jennifer's story: Wednesday morning

I was standing there naked, at the sink and mirror, brushing out and blow drying my hair, but I could feel Mark's eyes on me from behind, while he was taking his bath. Somehow I could just tell, he wasn't leering at me, he was appreciating me, and it felt really good. Now even more I wanted to surprise him when I got dressed.

"Mark, instead of the cafeteria, do you have anything here for breakfast?" I asked him.

"Not much at all, really, just some bread and butter for toast. There is some OJ in the fridge."

"I can stand a light breakfast this morning if you can."

"Deal."

So, when I was done with my hair, I walked out of the bathroom and into the kitchen, still naked. You know, this was just a fabulous feeling! I wonder if mom and dad were like this when they were . . . oh, my Lord, I can't think about

that!

Mark walked out of the bathroom as he was drying himself off, and he smiled when he saw me standing there with some toast for him, already buttered, being served to him by a naked lady. I really didn't want to get dressed until the last minute, this feeling was so wonderful.

We ate what little breakfast there was, and then, just a few minutes before it was time to leave, I got my clothes out of my book bag: a pair of cotton bikini panties and my new dress. I went into the bathroom to dress, so that I could surprise Mark, and when I came back out, his jaw just dropped. I loved his reaction!

"Oh, my Lord, Jen, you look awesome!"

And I felt it, too. I'd never, ever worn a dress shorter than well below my knees, and this one was five or six inches above. Rachel said that I ought to wear it with heels, but I don't have any, and don't even know how to walk in those silly things, but I have to admit, my legs looked good in this dress.

It was a longer walk to class from Mark's place than my dorm room, and I started to wonder again: was it just my looks? I had never thought of myself as pretty before, but everyone said that I was, or at least they say that now, now that I've ditched my old, long skirts and shapeless blouses. Heck, let's put it more honestly: since I started dressing to impress Mark. I kept thinking back to the guys in my calculus class, the ones who started paying attention to me after I started gussying up, and the one in particular who asked me out after the 'change.' It's obvious that they were only interested after I started dressing differently; for them, it was entirely my looks.

I was kind of hesitant about this, but it has been bothering me for a while now. "Mark, I've got to ask you something, and I'm not sure how to put it." He looked at me like, 'Uh, oh.' "I know that you love me, I can feel it, but how much of it is due to my looks? I mean, since I changed the way I dress."

"Jen, I like the way you look, yeah, but remember: I asked you out

before

you changed things up, and I knew you for years back in school. I was never expecting any Jennifer other than the one I always knew. Yeah, I'm pretty happy with the new look, but in the long run, it really doesn't matter.

"You are the spitting image of your mother, and she's beautiful. She wasn't dressed up at all when I met her, and she still looked great to me. Heck, in 26 more years, I won't look the way I do now, either."

Mark calmed my fears some with that, but walking into calculus this morning, the guys in the back just stopped talking and stared when they saw me in the new dress. None of the other girls were wearing dresses - and most of them never do, at least not to class - and it was like there was a red arrow over my head, pointing right at me. In a way, I liked it, but in another, it was kind of uncomfortable. A little bit of attention left me when Stacey walked in a couple of minutes later, wearing denim short-shorts. She must've laid out a bit, because her legs had a little tan, while mine were still winter white.

There wasn't too much commotion about me spending the night at Mark's when I got back to the dorm in the afternoon; Monica knew that I had taken a change of clothes with me, so she was expecting it, even though she knew I was on my period. But when I walked back into the dorm room, I got a "Whoa! What's this?" from her when she saw me in the new dress.

"Oh, wow, Jennifer, you must've killed Mark in that dress," she said.

"Well, he was still alive when I left him," I kind of giggled. Oh, Lord, when did I start giggling like this? "But he did like it. Still, I'm not used to the attention from other guys."

"Good attention?" Monica asked.

"Oh, I'm not sure. Ever since I started using your cream rinse, and my hair got looking better, there are these four guys who sit in the back of my calculus class who keep looking at me, and one of them has asked me out, twice. He quit when I showed him my engagement ring, but still . . . ."

"Guys liking your looks isn't a bad thing. Heck, I wish more guys liked my looks! But I'm guessing it's that blonde hair down to your waist that's killing them, especially when you wear it loose. Guys just love that stuff."

"Monica, you look better than I do."

"Jennifer, I know that I don't look bad or anything, but I look kind of, I don't know, ordinary. You, with that hair of yours, you look striking. Maybe not beautiful, like movie star beautiful, but just pretty, and it's like you do it effortlessly. Have you even worn makeup since I pushed you into that mascara for your first date?"

"No, not once, not unless you count the nail polish."

"That's what I mean by effortlessly. I use mascara and lip gloss and sometimes eye shadow and I sure haven't created a commotion among four guys sitting in the back of a class."

Edna's story: Wednesday afternoon

I had just finished the lunchtime dishes - I'd gotten a late start on them - when the phone rang, and it was a collect call from Jennifer; students can't make long distance calls from their dorm phones.

"Hi, mom, how are you."

"Oh, same as always. What's up?"

"Mom, everything here is going wonderfully. But here's the thing." Hmmm: Jennifer wanted something, and she wasn't even trying to ease into it. "Saturday is Mark's birthday, and I want to stay in town for it."

"Stay in Lexington, as in stay at the Den of Iniquity?"

"Yes, mom, as in stay at the Den of Iniquity." She said it quietly and seriously, and then she broke into laughter. "I hope dad wasn't listening when you said that."

"No, he's outside working right now, but he does know that Mark and you have slept together, so this won't be a terrible surprise."

"Oh, gosh, mom, you told him?"

"No, he told me. Your father is a very perceptive man, and he said that he knew from almost the second you got out of the car last Friday."

"Oh, gosh. Maybe that was the reason he gave Mark a bit of a push to propose."

"Well, he told me that y'all had already had your wedding night, so you might as well get on with the wedding." I had to laugh when I told Jennifer that. I couldn't see her over the phone, but a few seconds of silence was followed by another laugh.

"Gee, mom, that's . . . I don't even know how to describe it. Is it crazy or is it wonderful?"

"Your father is a very great man, Jennifer, he's strong and smart and proud."

"Well, there was this one girl from my floor, Vivian, who said that if y'all were looking to adopt another daughter, she's available. This was while I was telling all of the girls about last weekend. Everyone thinks that both of you guys are great."

"That's fine, just make sure this Vivian won't mind mucking out the stables!"

There was a bit more small talk, and then Jennifer got serious. "Mom, can I ask you something about sex?" Yup,

that

was serious! We'd never really had 'the talk' with Jennifer, because we knew that, growing up on a farm, she at least understood what intercourse was, and her Christian upbringing wasn't going to let her do anything foolish, or at least anything

too

foolish.

"Go ahead, Jennifer."

"OK, mom, you see, Mark is so wonderful, and he never, ever pushes me, but he doesn't have to: I want him so badly that every time we've made love, I was the one who started it. Is it always like this?"

"Well, wow, that wasn't the question I expected. But, I'll tell you a secret, one I never thought I'd ever mention: I'm usually the one who starts things at home. Of course, your dad loves that, and it always keeps him coming back for more. Now, Fred certainly does get the ball rolling himself at times, but it's usually me. And I still can't believe that I'm telling you this."

"Mom, that's great, that's wonderful news. I just had never heard of women starting things, and I was wondering if I was getting too weird. I mean, I didn't talk with the girls in high school about this, but I have overheard them complaining that the guys were always pushing and pushing, and Mark hasn't done that."

"Sounds like he didn't have to." I can't believe myself; I actually snickered a bit when I said that!

"You know, mom, gosh, I don't know if I should say this, it's kind of embarrassing . . . ."

"Go ahead, Jennifer."

"Well, I kind of heard dad and you last Friday evening, after you had met Mark, and it just made my heart fly. I mean, to me that meant that you both liked Mark and it was telling me how much you still love each other."

"Fred had said that he thought you heard us, and that was kind of embarrassing, but it's OK. If hearing us helped you, then I'm glad you did. But I still can't believe that we're talking about this. Oh, your dad is coming in the house. Would you like to speak to him? Actually, you should, because you should be honest enough to tell him that you aren't coming home this weekend, and why." So, I handed the phone to Fred, and said, "It's your favorite daughter."

"Now you sound like Jackie Stewart," he said to me, and then, taking the phone, said, "Hi, Jennifer."

"Uh huh."

"I see."

"Yes, I do understand."

"OK, Jennifer, but a birthday is an excuse you get to use only once a year, and we

will

remember that Mark's birthday is April 22nd. And we will expect you,

both

of you, the following weekend, with no excuses. And one other thing: your mother and I expect you to go to church on Sunday morning."

"I love you, too, Jennifer, and we'll see you in ten days."

Fred hung up the phone, saying "I hope Jennifer knows what she's doing. I like this Mark Stewart, and I think he'll make a good husband for her, but this is not the way I expected things to happen."

"Why not, Fred? After all, it's kind of the way things have been going for the last few years. If Jennifer had stayed at home, and not gone to college, maybe none of this would have happened, but she's a very smart girl, and that would have been a real waste of talent. She'll make a fine doctor one of these days."

"I know, I know, but it just goes against the teachings of our church, and that's hard for me."

"Why, Fred?" I kind of grinned at him. "Remember that

Biergarten

in Bonn, the day before you were going to be shipped home? It's not like we waited until our wedding night, you know." My dear husband smiled at me.

Mark's story: Wednesday afternoon

I finally found what I needed at the hardware store, a hand shower attachment. All that I'd have to do is unscrew the existing tub spout, if I could, and attach this in it's place. I could hang it from the wall at shower height, but than I'd have to pull down the plaster, install cement board on the wall, tile the entire wall and install a shower curtain, and even then I'd have to get some waterproof paint for the whole window. There is a rubber-based swimming pool paint, but still, Mr Rose would never let me do that to his apartment. But, when I fix up that cabin for Jennifer, it

will

have a shower.

That is, if it even has running water! I can do the work, having learned fixing the plumbing in mom's house. I had to learn by doing, when the pipes froze a few years ago. Heck, I was only 15 years old, and I was replumbing the house!

And I can do the electricity, too. I worked for two summers as an electrician's helper, and I can wire the whole house. I'll need a licensed electrician to sign off on my work, but that's no problem: Mr Lesner will do that for me.

Still, I have no idea how I'm going to be able to afford that. I can work all summer in construction, but it's going to take everything I can earn to put a roof on that place, and how I'll be able to buy copper pipe and plumbing fixtures and electrical parts is beyond me. Even with all of that, there's no power line running to the cabin that I saw, and probably no water, either. I made a promise to Jennifer that I probably won't be able to keep.

Oh, well, right now I have to hurry to get to work.

I took my homework to the language lab with me, determined to get it all done, and get ahead on it. Jennifer would be spending Thursday night with me, and even though we were trying to get some homework done last night, I didn't really get a lot out of my reading, not with Jen's feet in my lap and her ponytail stirring in the breeze that came through the windows. I couldn't help thinking about her waking up in my arms, even though I didn't expect what actually happened. Last night was just amazing!

But what's really amazing is how Jen and I are acting with each other. I've heard plenty of the guys talking about the girls they've scored with, and how pretty they are and how great they were in bed, but no one ever told me about how I'd feel with a girlfriend the next morning, how our relationship would be so intimate outside of bed.

My dad left when I was just two, so I never really knew him, and I wouldn't recognize him if I passed him on the street. For the longest time, in school, I was embarrassed about being the only kid without a father, and I'd even made up some lies to make him sound better than he was, but that was a form of lying to myself just as much as lying to my friends. Heck, they didn't believe me anyway. I have no idea how he interacted with mom, because she never, ever speaks of him. I do know one thing, though: even if everything fell apart between Jennifer and me, I will

never

desert my children the way my father did. I don't hate my father anymore; I just don't feel anything for him. Whether he is dead or alive, in the next town or somewhere in China, I neither know nor care. But, right now, the biggest lesson that I've missed is how to be a husband and a father; I really have no idea what I'm doing with Jennifer. She's got great parents from whom she learned; all I have is my mom, and while she's great, she couldn't teach me what it is like to be a husband. I've got ideas about how it should be, but I don't actually know anything.

I got home about fifteen minutes after nine, and surveyed the wreckage from last night with Jennifer. I had teased her that she'd bloodied up two sets of sheets, but it was true, and now I had no clean sheets! I could survive that, but needed clean sheets for tomorrow night, so I got both sets, last night's set, and the previous set that I had stuffed under the bed to keep Mrs Matthews from seeing, and had to hand wash them in the sink. I knew enough to use cold water, to prevent setting in the stain, and had to use dish washing liquid, because that was all I had. I finally got them clean, and then wrung them out as best I could. I took some twine to make a clothesline across the living room to dry the sheets overnight, hoping they'd be dry enough to make the bed in the morning. I did the dishes, and then headed to bed, to sleep on the bare mattress. I needed to go to the laundromat, but didn't feel like going this late. At least I gathered my laundry, so that I could get to the laundromat and get my clothes done before Jen got here in the evening.

Thursday morning: 6:04 AM

"Good morning, sweetheart! I'm here to fix you breakfa . . . What is

this?

" I was startled awake, to Jennifer's voice. Then she stuck her head in the bedroom: "Wake up, sleepyhead! I brought you breakfast!"

I got out of bed, and there was Jen, all bright eyed and bushy tailed, and completely put together for the day. "I woke up early, and thought about making you breakfast. I ran over to the Convenient Food Mart, grabbed some eggs and bacon and cinnamon rolls, and here I am. See how smart you were to give me a key!" I was sort of bleary-eyed, since I usually wake up on my own, and this was different. Jen gave me a quick kiss, closed mouth fortunately, because I still needed to brush my teeth. "I see that you washed out and hung up the sheet sets you complained that I bloodied up."

"I wasn't com

plain

ing, just pointing out a fact." I knew that Jennifer was just teasing me, but, you know, I liked it. Jen had never teased people in high school, or even shown much of a sense of humor at all, keeping to herself a lot. She never really fit in with the high school crowd, always seeming so serious, and this was completely different, completely new for her, and it was wonderful. "I'll be out in a few minutes," and I headed for the bathroom.

It was April 20th, and springtime warm outside, and I already had the bathroom window open. Up on the third floor, privacy wasn't a concern. I peed, brushed my teeth, and ran my bathwater. The bottom of the tub wasn't as slick as it had been after Jen cream rinsed her hair yesterday morning, so I didn't kill myself, and I took a quick bath. My hair is short enough that I don't have to dry it; it will air dry in fifteen minutes.

Once I'd gotten done with my bath and dried off, I walked out, still naked, to the sound and smell of bacon in the frying pan. "I like your outfit," Jen teased me, "but you'd better not step too close to the stove." I thought back to Tuesday night, when Jen and I were both in the bathroom brushing our teeth, jammed up against each other, with her naked and me still dressed; I suppose that this was the reverse image. Then she completely shocked me: she put her hand on me, down below, and giggled, "I think I'll have some use for this later today." Oh, my God,

Jennifer Matthews

actually said that?

"You don't have to wait until later, you know."

"Yes I do: you don't have any clean sheets on your bed. Yuck! Anyway, do you have any wild plans for our two-week anniversary?"

"Honestly, my plans for today were to get to the laundromat early this afternoon, 'cause all of my clothes are dirty, and that's as far in the future as I had planned. I was hoping that we'd be able to spend the night together, but, since you've mentioned it, how about Joe B's and then a walk over to the fountain? I seem to remember a first kiss there?"

"So, you want to celebrate both a two week and one week anniversary, huh? It seems that Thursdays have been good to us." Jen had a huge smile when she said that.

Breakfast was good, really good, but it must've been mostly in my head. After all, how can bacon and eggs really taste any different, just because my wife-to-be cooked them?

The 'dining room' table, and I use the term dining room very loosely in this apartment was a small, rectangular one, with wooden bench seats on either side. Four people could be seated there, if they were crammed in together, but it was easier for Jen and me to be seated on the opposite sides. Since she had shown up so early, we had a lot more time before class, and privacy to talk.

"So, I called mom and dad yesterday afternoon, and told them that I am staying over for your birthday. Mom asked me if that meant I'd be staying at the 'Den of Iniquity,' but it was only a few more seconds and we were both laughing about it. Dad knows that we've been sleeping together, and mom never told him; she said that he just knew, pretty much from the moment we got out of the car last Friday. There isn't much that gets past my dad."