The Safe Girl

Simon says: Part two. Thanks so much for the excellent feedback and encouragement. :)

I am thinking we will have one more after this, but I may go nuts and have two.

More to come. As always, I love feedback and contacts. Happy reading. :)

*****

I glanced at the clock: 8:00 am. I must have dozed off at some point, but I don't really recall. Listening briefly I heard only silence, so I managed to sit up. I felt tired. I had class a little later this morning so I decided to go ahead and drag myself out of bed.

I ran my fingers through my hair as I thought back to the previous evening. What was I doing? I am in danger of really falling apart here. I needed to focus on the dating options. As long as I kept that casual maybe I could shift my focus from Jess. She is such a great girl and she deserves much more than some older guy lusting after her.

Lost in my own thoughts, I headed out my door. Jess was seated on the couch, her feet tucked under her, looking at her laptop. She glanced up at my entrance and kind of waved with an unusual expression on her face, as if she was starting to smile but then she realized something odd. Embarrassment? She must have remembered the famous creepy Dr. Hamilton kiss on the cheek. Awesome. Seriously, why does she put up with this?

"Good morning Jess."

"Heya Dr. H. Um, breakfast is in the microwave." She pointed behind her without taking her widened eyes off of me. She was speaking in a hesitant fashion. She continued to watch me, which gave me a moment of pause. And then it hit me: I was in my boxers, which explained everything. Well maybe not everything but the immediate everything anyway.

I looked down and then at her face. "I am so sorry . . . I . . . forgot." She was looking at me and seemed to be blushing. Which was very cute. I bee-lined to the bathroom, hearing the giggle at my expense behind me, and went through my morning routine, wondering sarcastically what else I could do to make it any more uncomfortable for her.

Ten minutes later, I scooted from the bathroom to my room in nothing but a towel as I had not planned ahead when deciding to go all natural in front of my apartment mate. I saw her watching me again out of the corner of my eye.

I came back out of the room, finally dressed, and did a cat walk turn for her. She giggled.

"Sorry about that Jess. I am not always . . . aware . . . in the morning"

"It's ok, Dr. H. Now we are even." She grinned.

My turn to blush as I recalled the barely covered but very cute Jess bottom making an appearance a few mornings back. I smiled, "sure, but I think I came out the winner really."

She blushed a little again, a small smile remaining on her face. "You like that style of underwear, do you?"

I am going to plead that it was still early yet for me as my brain's impulsive speech filtering system was not properly functioning. "On you, yes." And then I realized what I said. And she obviously did too. And her eyes were wide for a moment. And mine must've been too.

I started to apologize but she cut me off, "well, you definitely know how to work a pair of boxers, Dr. H." Old ladies, road kill, Snoopy, potato chips. I absolutely had to control any physical reactions as any engorging would be easily discernable.

But what was rather fantastic about that moment was that she was complimenting ME in my BOXERS. That's right people. The beautiful girl gave me a nice compliment. And even if she was being super nice I REALLY DON"T CARE. I am gonna run with it anyway. Yay me.

"Anyhoo, I don't care if you are in just your underwear. It's your apartment." She was trying to be all casual about it but I could see this unmistakable glint in her eye. Did she find it amusing when I was in my underwear?

"Well, it's your apartment too, you know".

She raised her eyebrows, "so you are fine with me just lounging around in my underwear then?" Old ladies, road kill, Snoopy, potato chips!!

I shrugged on the outside, "Sure. Whatever." Inside I was leading stadium crowd waves in secret support of her plan.

"Hmmmm," is all she muttered as she got up from the couch and wandered to the kitchen to grab a can of soda. Was she actually considering that?

"Underwear, swimsuits, its about the same," I found myself arguing the point. What was I doing??!! Get ahold of yourself, man. I was like a truck with no breaks.

She nodded, pausing right in front of me on her way back to the couch, locking her eyes on mine less than a foot away, "valid point, but some of my underwear is lacier and more see-through."

Gulp! She actually giggled as she saw the expression on my face. She kindly used her fingertip to push up my chin, effectively closing my gaping mouth. She waggled her eyebrows mischievously before casually strolling back to the couch. And I stood there dumbstruck. She is definitely finding my buttons, damn her.

"Speaking of swimsuits," she pulled me back to reality, "man what I wouldn't give to go to the beach for one final time this season." She was settling back onto the couch into the feet tucked under her position, what I liked to call the relaxed cute Jess position. "It will start to get cooler soon," she added wistfully as she pulled her laptop back up. It was early September at that point, which was still rather hot in this part of the country. Sadly, the beach was a good four hour haul.

"Well why don't you just go for one last trip?" Half of me was glad for the change of subject but there were other parts of me that wanted to continue to explore underwear only living policies with Jess. Nudist eschew clothing in favor of being nude. Does that mean we would be underwearists? Note to self: start that official movement. It could be a gateway drug for nudism

She didn't really look up from her laptop as she muttered "no time, too much to do." Then she looked up at me and smiled, motioning me over and patting the couch next to her. I sat down per nonverbal instructions.

"What do you think of this?"

"Well he is handsome but not my type," I replied with a straight face. She punched my arm with a giggle. "No, you dork! I mean, the pose! For your profile photo!"

I grinned as I rubbed my arm. I took a closer look. She had up a guy's dating profile, some guy in his twenties, wavy blond hair, jeans and a cable-knit sweater. He was casually leaning against his desk, his palms resting on the edge of the desk, not too staged. He looked very LL Bean. And I shopped there so it looked good to me. "I like it."

I glanced at her and she looked uncomfortable. "What's wrong?"

"I punched you."

"So?"

"You were my professor, so I shouldn't punch you."

"Ah but we are apartment mates now. New relationship paradigm, dontchaknow." I was trying to ease her discomfort. If punching me makes her smile than I am completely fine with that.

"But then I called you a dork."

"Also acceptable under the new relationship paradigm." I was explaining this sagaciously as if I had thought this through.

She grinned. She punched me again lightly. "I like this new relationship paradigm, although I am still foggy on all of the rules."

"Me too," I responded out loud, but not really meaning to. She glanced at me with the Jess analysis look again.

"Anyhoo, we just need to find you a sexy set of jeans and a sexy sweater and we are ready to do our sexy photo shoot!" She jumped up and started walking to her bedroom muttering almost to herself per usual "So unless you have that tall order in your mysterious bedroom there we need to go shopping later today." She disappeared into her room again still talking about when and where we would go shopping later for the sexy outfit.

We had settled for 4:30 that afternoon to go shopping. Well actually she had settled for 4:30 that afternoon. I just agreed as it seemed it was a rhetorical request when she asked me. She was dressed and ready to walk out the door to head into work.

Her fingers were on the doorknob as she paused and turned towards me, "Dr. H?"

"Hmmm?" I looked up from my Monday predictable -but-quite-delicious breakfast.

"Thanks for tucking me in last night. I am sorry I conked out on the sofa." She paused for a moment before continuing. "But it's not exactly my fault as SOMEONE has some very skilled fingers." She threw a quick smile at me before scooting out the door.

++++++++++++

I have to admit shopping with Jess was pretty fun. She got very excited during almost all of it and forced me to look at seemingly hundreds of sweaters before settling on a darkish grey blue one ("that really brings out your eyes!" she had explained excitedly). And then we went to the jeans section where she forced me to try on all sorts of varieties. And to think I had only been buying 'jeans' for years when I could have been really thinking about it!

I had to model a bunch of different types where I found her staring at my butt and crotch a lot. I reminded myself that she was looking rather objectively but it was fun to pretend otherwise.

With proper jeans, sweater and casual shirt in hand, we began to exit the store.

"Dinner is on me . . . What's your favorite spot?"

"Dr. H, you don't have to take me to dinner!"

"You are right there, but I DO WANT to take you to dinner. You are my personal shopping assistant after all. And I appreciate all of your help." I smiled a genuine smile at her and she returned it.

"Ok, I am seriously lusting for some pizza right now."

"Pizza it is!"

++++++++++++

We settled into the booth at the pizza parlor and ordered our drinks from the cute little bubbly waitress named Megan. I started to think about it. She, and everyone in here, must think that Jess was my daughter. Part of me really resented that, but it was a safer assumption. We looked like quite a mismatched pair.

We ordered a pie with heavy emphasis on vegetables and than sat back sipping our crazy large drinks.

Time for some more probing getting beneath the surface conversation starters: "So I don't even know where you grew up, Jess . . . "

She looked up and shrugged. "Lots of different places until I was about 12. My father was in the military." She fingered the straw wrapper thoughtfully.

"And after 12?" I took another sip out of my big ass glass of diet soda.

She looked a little soberly at me. "My father left, so mom and I settled in Charlotte." I could sense a little anger there, and I was not surprised. For some reason I felt like I could pursue this.

"Do you ever see him?" She just shook her head, returning to fingering the straw wrapper. "But you and your mom did ok?" She smiled a sad smile and nodded. "My mom was awesome."

And there I detected it. 'Was.' That one word. I used it all the time when referring to Diane. I knew exactly what that meant. And I locked eyes with her and nodded. I paused for a bit but then . . . "When?"

She looked at me, slightly surprised but then returned to looking down. "Two years ago. It was . .sudden. It's why money has been a little tight." She was speaking softly. And I found myself starting to feel pretty angry. Her father just left her. And fate . . . or something . . . . took her mom. And here she was alone.

She continued to mess with her wrapper. She didn't look up but quietly asked me, "When?"

I knew what she was asking. "May."

She nodded still not looking up. "Was it sudden?" I shook my head but then realized she wasn't looking at me, "um, no, about 11 months. Cancer took her. . from me." I choked the last bit out, but then quickly covered it with a sip out of the big ass glass of diet coke.

And then she looked at me, and her eyes were teared up. She mouthed "I am so sorry" to me. I gave her a sad smile and mouthed back "Me too." She reached out and grabbed my hand and held it.

Holding her hand was not romantic or sexual or anything else other than signifying an understanding connection between two broken souls. I couldn't help but notice how we fit together well. Warm skin pressed against warm skin. Her fingertips rubbed against the top of my hand in a comforting way. And I just loved the feeling.

And then cute Megan brought the pizza, which gave me the welcome reset that I always needed. Faced with that pain and the memory of it, my first instinct was to find escape. But for the first time, I had someone who went through something similar. And while we did escape there was this. . . mutual understanding there. No, that's not strong enough. It was like this permanent link had been established between us. Something that would always be there. A shared unique experience that bound us.

"Tell me something about your mom. What did you love most about her," I requested tentatively. She glanced up at me, the tears brimming her eyes but she seemed . . . kind of appreciative of the question.

She cleared her throat. "Well, she was so amazingly generous." She looked like she was trying to pick the right story to illustrate it. "After my father decided he didn't need us anymore I grew up with lots of different people staying in our house. It's like Momma found the human strays of life and enthusiastically offered our home to them. I so loved her for that. Her heart had room for lots of people."

"She sounded amazing. I think I would have loved to meet her." I glanced at her, her eyes smiling at this conversation. "Wasn't it ever . .oh I don't know. . chaotic? I mean there was some unpredictability, right? So many different people all of the time . . . "

She shook her head. "Momma ran the house rather tightly. It was controlled. When the friends came to stay they had to follow the rules, the routines. And the rules kept us safe."

She smiled while she looked off seeming to relive a fond memory. Maybe she was picturing one of those very strays. She then looked at me for a moment and laughed.

"What?"

"I just realized that's what you did with me. I was a stray."

"Nah, you are a bit more than a stray, Jess."

She squeezed my forearm, wiped her eyes quickly and composing herself asked what I knew would come. "Tell me something amazing about Diane."

I had her full attention, her eyes boring into me. I thought through all of the things I loved about Diane.; sweet, generous, loving, brilliant, fun. She empathized with others, even feeling the same sadness and happiness of those around her, almost like a superpower. She remained faithful to me, encouraging me, enthusiastic about my work, even when what I was doing was a bit nuts. And she completely owned my heart.

I started to say something several times, each time failing to form anything meaningful. I looked at Jess helplessly. She looked cautious and yet fully engaged. I eventually smiled at her and sadly shook my head. She nodded in understanding and grabbed my hand again.

Aren't pizza places supposed to be casual and fun??!!

Cute bubbly Megan came by again to fill our big ass drinks. I saw her eyes take in our hand holding. She smiled at Jess and slipped away. We had another reset thanks to Megan. I am totally tipping Megan big time.

So we subtly reset to joking about anything and everything. And even though there was an undercurrent of sadness still lingering, I found myself smiling a bit more than usual. Faced with hardship Jess knew how to enjoy herself nonetheless and it was catching.

++++++++++++

"Now go put on your new sweet outfit there while I set up the stooooo-deeee-o" As if drawing out the word makes whatever she sets up more professional.

I slipped into my room to don the identified "chick magnet digs" (as Jess liked to refer to it). I came out to find her moving the few lamps in the flat around, shining them towards the one open wall in the flat. She gave a wolf whistle as I entered the room. "Hubba hubba! Someone looks yummy!" I blushed appreciating her kind encouragement.

She had changed into jeans and an oversized white button down collar shirt. Wait a second, that was MY button collar shirt. She saw me looking at her shirt and grinned "by the way, can I borrow your shirt?" I chuckled "I am tempted to say no to see what you would do, but sure."

"Whew! I figured I needed to dress the part of a photographer/ artist type." She had left the two top and the the two bottom buttons unbuttoned, was barefoot and had twisted her hair up into a kind of messy up-do. She topped the outfit off by wearing her glasses. She looked amazing.

"Alright dah-ling, lets see you over against zee wall." Her fancy nondescript accent added to her dramatic hand movements as she started futzing with the camera.

I felt unbelievably awkward. To be the center of attention for a casual photo outside a monument or museum or something was bad enough. To be the subject of multiple posed photographs just felt uncomfortable. But I followed directions.

I stood with my back to the wall as if I was in a lineup at the police station. She studied me for a moment, which made my face feel very warm. She finally stepped forward and carefully removed my glasses, returning to her spot to study me and then finally nodded. "You look sexy." She spoke rather matter-of-factly. And then my face felt very hot.

"Ok, model boy, right hand slipped into your front pocket, left casually loose at your side, lean against the wall next to the window, one foot up against the wall. Got it?" I tried to follow her twister-like directions and somehow managed to finally relax a bit. She kept stepping forward and ruffling my hair here, messing with how my sweater laid across my shoulders there. She was very very focused.

Forty-five minutes and 13,000 shots later we were done. Well maybe not 13,000 but it certainly felt like it. She began downloading all of the shots while I went to change into something less chick magnety. I returned to the living room in flannel pants (they are comfortable, don't judge me) and a t-shirt. She barely glanced up from working on my photos, merely patting the seat cushion next to her again. There was this permanent excited grin on her face. The girl loves photography. Noted.

I scooted in next to her as she pulled the laptop over to sit half on her lap and half on mine. I could really smell the Jess scent strongly, our height difference putting her hair in line with my nose. I closed my eyes for a moment and enjoyed the assault on my senses.

"Hey, eyes open dude! We have work to do!" She was smiling up at me. She then began pointing out the ones she liked the best. I reminded her that we only needed one. She shushed me. She was enjoying herself way too much for me to do anything but cooperate.

So in the end we had narrowed it down to three photos and I let her choose which one she liked the best. And then we uploaded the photo, which seemed decidedly anti-climactic considering the crazy amount of time, money and energy both of us put into the steps leading up to that moment. I think we both realized it at the same time as she just started giggling.

"Thanks Jess for doing that. It looks great. " She came down from her giggle fit, still smiling. "My pleasure . . Now for my compensation!" She put the laptop on the floor and scooted a bit further away, putting her feet in my lap. She wiggled her toes and her eyebrows at me expectantly. I laughed. "Yes ma'am." And so I began to rub her feet.

She gave little mmmmm sounds as my fingers worked on every inch of her feet, her toes occasionally wiggling in slow motion. Her eyes remained closed as she rested her head against the arm rest of the sofa.

"You aren't going to start snoring again like last night are you?" I smiled as I worked on the soles of her feet. "Don't make me punch you per the new relationship paradigm, buster," she smiled but didn't even bother opening her eyes.

"Wait, did I really snore??!!" Her eyes shot open. I shrugged. She apparently was able to reach me as I felt her punch my arm. I looked at her and saw her with raised eyebrow and fist ready for a second attack.