It had been a beautiful ceremony. My niece, Christine, looked like an angel as she walked down the aisle. My wife would have simply loved to be here. We'd always had a soft spot for Christine and knew that she'd make a beautiful bride. Unfortunately, her wedding was about nine months too late for my wife.
I sat at the table under the huge tent top, nursing a beer and a small cup of peanut M&Ms. I couldn't NOT come, but part of me didn't want to be here. It was the first time in forty years that I'd come to a wedding alone. Usually we came to these together, both of us enjoying the opportunity to dance with each other at the reception. Not that we were great dancers, but these were one of the few opportunities we had to dance with each other, and we did so enjoy the slow dances.
Everyone was being nice, those that hadn't made the funeral made the usual obligatory well wishes, but the reality is that I felt and probably looked like someone's dog that had been kicked one too many times. I felt about as low as was possible. My sister and her husband tried sitting with me, but I told them they didn't have to hover over me, and they finally moved off to socialize, something I just didn't feel like doing. I guess losing your partner in life after so many years will do that to you.
Oh, I'd made all the usual promises to Shelly on her death bed. I wouldn't curl up and let life run by. I'd find someone and find a way to move on. I wouldn't let myself waste away. You know the promises a wife will make you make because she knows you all too well and knows that is exactly what you'll do. She'd made her best friend promise to make me date again. Yeah, like that's going to happen any time soon! At sixty, I'm way too damn old to start over.
Do I miss companionship? Yeah. But it's that of a certain person I want, and I know I'll never have again, so why bother? That was what was occupying my mind as I sat alone, nursing the same beer for at least half an hour. I'd thought about leaving and going back to the little motel I'd managed to find a room at, but I really did want to stay at least long enough to see Christine do all those bride things, not to mention she'd lined up a special song for me to dance with her after the obligatory dances were done. I didn't want to let her down.
"Mind if I join you?" I heard a soft feminine voice ask me from behind.
"Um. Sure," I answered a bit awkwardly, my brain taking a few moments to shift gears and drag itself out of the pit it was slowly digging.
"Thank you," the young woman said as she pulled out the chair to my left. "I think you found the perfect spot."
"The perfect spot?" I asked as I let my eyes travel quickly up and down the curvy figure encased in the simple yellow sundress. I'd guess she was late thirties or so, slender, but not super model skinny, nicely filled out chest, strong athletic looking legs that looked quite attractive as she slipped easily into the plastic folding chair next to mine. Her skin was the color of heavily creamed coffee, showing some family history of maybe African American or other similar dark skinned race. Her hair was deep brown, almost black, with a little bit of bouncy wave and soft looking. Her face was extremely attractive with full red lips, a short perky nose and extremely attractive green eyes.
"The fan?" she said questioningly, making me realize that she'd had to repeat herself.
"Oh yeah. The fan," I blurted out, twisting my head to look at the huge four foot diameter fan that was blowing air into the open sided tent.
"It could have been a little cooler," she said, waving her hands to move some air across her obviously sweaty face and chest. "I know it's only eighty, but it feels a lot hotter in the sun."
"Yeah. It does that," I agreed, reaching into my pocket and pulling out the handkerchief I always carried. I held it out for her. She looked at it, then at my face, and thanked me with a smile as she reached out and took it from me. She used the soft cotton material to dab the sweat on her forehead and down her face before using it to wipe away the sweat on her neck and finally her chest and cleavage. She looked over at me again, almost as if pausing to think, and then down at herself again. She unbuttoned the two top buttons of her dress and used the white handkerchief to dry down between her breasts as far as the edges of the white lace bra would allow, showing me even more of her easily C or D cup breasts. I was never really good at guessing cup size, but then I didn't have to. It was either "small", "nice" or "big" in my book. I enjoyed big. Sandy had been a triple D. Not when we married of course. She was only a C cup then, but nursing three kids had really made them fill out and it was something I always enjoyed. The young woman next to me was somewhere between nice and big. It took me several seconds before I realized I was staring at her tits, and embarrassingly jerked my eyes back up to her face.
"Thank you," she said softly, setting the handkerchief on the table next to my hand before reaching back to her dress and closing the top two buttons again. "That was nice of you."
"You're welcome," I answered, trying hard to return her smile, but just pasting it on without feeling it inside.
"So? You here alone?"
"Um. Yeah. Fraid so."
"Me too. Your wife couldn't make it?"
I felt the pasted on smile disappear and the look of kicked dog return all too quickly. "No. She's wasn't able to make it."
I looked back up at her just in time to see her eyes search mine for a moment. "You're William?" she asked softly.
"Yeah. Do I know you?"
"Oh. No. I just heard some people talking and all of a sudden... well... I'm sorry. I don't mean to intrude."
"It's okay," I answered, even though it really wasn't. But I knew that if Shelly were here, she'd be pissed if I was rude to her.
She suddenly twisted in her chair to face a bit more in my direction and held out her hand. "I'm Charlotte, but my friends all call me Charlie."
"Charlie?" I asked curiously as I tentatively took her soft delicate hand.
"Yeah. When I was younger I loved the movie Top Gun. And since my name was the same as the woman Maverick fell in love with, my friends started calling me Charlie and it stuck."
I chuckled, the first time in months that humor actually managed to penetrate the darkness shrouding me. "It was a good movie."
"Still is. Classic now though, which of course makes me feel old."
I couldn't help but chuckle again. "Not hardly. Me? I'm old. You're way too young and good looking to consider yourself old," I said, instantly regretting the comment. "I'm sorry," I mumbled.
"Sorry for what? You should never apologize for complimenting a woman," she said with a soft smile. "But just for the record, how young do you think I am?"
"I'm afraid I'm not too good at guessing age," I said, not wanting to insult her if I guessed wrong.
"No? Well, thank you for the compliment anyway, but I'm most definitely NOT young, at least not in my book," she said without the smile leaving her lips. "So? Drinking beer?"
"Oh. Yeah," I said, pushing the half empty cup of warm liquid. "Sort of."
"Looks like it's gotten warm."
"Pretty much."
"Well, if you promise to watch my handbag, I'll bring you a fresh one. If you don't mind, that is," she said as she stood up.
"Uh. No. That's fine. Thanks," I answered clumsily, my focus suddenly on her long slender legs instead of what she was asking. I watched her walk down the aisle between tables, her tall high heels trying to sink into the grass, making her walk more on the balls of her feet. The yellow dress only came to the middle of her thighs, and I swore I could just make out the shape of a very skimpy bikini style panty through the thin material.
I sat, waiting, surprising myself that I was actually somewhat anxious to have her come back. I frowned at myself at the thought. What was I thinking? No. When she came back I'd just have to excuse myself. What would Sandy have thought, me sitting here chatting up a woman half my age? Grow up William!
I saw her coming back, a cup of beer in each hand, again, walking on the balls of her feet to keep her high heels from sinking into the soft grass. The setting sun shown under the edge of the tent roof, shining across her body from her chest down, making the yellow dress look like it was practically glowing on her. It hugged her frame, flowing smoothly down from her slightly bouncing breasts, over her slender waist, to her curvy hips and down her muscular thighs. Her long legs were well proportioned and looked very sexy in the light colored stockings that I hadn't quite noticed before. The light shown on her dress just right so that I could see the outline of the white lace bra through the top of the dress and a very sexy cut bikini, almost thong sized panty below. I was still staring, probably openmouthed, as she approached and set the two beers on the table.
"Thank you for watching my handbag," she said as she twisted the chair out from the table and closer to me. She sat down, facing me, crossing one leg over the other, making the short skirt pull up slightly further. I could see the lacy top of her right stocking peeking from under the hem of the skirt as her knee almost touched my left thigh. She reached towards the beer she'd set down on the table, and picked the cup up, taking a long swallow before setting it back down. "Penny for your thoughts?" she asked sweetly.
"Huh?"
"You were staring. I'd like to think at me, but..."
"Oh God. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to stare," I quickly said apologetically, blushing slightly at the realization that I'd been caught looking where I probably shouldn't.
"Don't be sorry. Like I said, a woman my age... It's nice to be stared at."
"I didn't mean to. I mean."
She leaned towards me and rested her hand on my bare forearm. "It's okay," she said softly, almost soothingly. "I understand. I've seen it so many times. It's been what, almost a year I think I heard? Yet it seems like yesterday?"
"Yeah," I agreed with a nod.
"I understand," she said softly, letting her fingers stroke the hairs on my arm. "I could leave if you prefer. But I hope this doesn't sound too forward. But I'd like to stay, if you don't mind."
"I. Um. Sure. I don't mind," I finally managed to answer. She smiled in response, her fingers starting to slowly and gently stroke my forearm. "You said you've seen it so many times?" I asked curiously after a couple minutes of silence.
