This is my first submission. My stories are - will be - all set in the sixties and early seventies, before everyone had read "The Joy of Sex" and girls all used the pill. Maybe I will post an essay called "Erotica 101," if the title hasn't been used. It will let you know more, maybe too much, about me.
As the first line of the story suggests, this is related to another story, a whole novel from its length. The title here could be misleading, but it will make sense in the third and final chapter.
*
Barbara was a friend of Sandy's at Sarah Lawrence and had gotten her summer job through her father's fraternity network. Over the Christmas break, she had flown down to a city in the Southeast for an interview with a bank and had been accepted. The fraternity brother had been a class or two behind her father at college and after business school had joined the bank and moved up rapidly, so he wasn't involved in hiring or managing summer interns. He did, however, invite her for dinner with his family the last night of her trip.
It was a very pleasant evening at their home - nice home. They had two daughters, seventeen and eighteen, junior and senior in high school. At the end of the evening, the girls suggested that she could use their swimming pool during the summer, and the parents agreed. The father offered to drive her back to her hotel, which really wasn't necessary, since she still could have taken public transportation at that hour, but she didn't want to refuse his gesture.
During the drive, he easily kept the conversation going, and before she got out of the car, he offered to look for a place for her to stay during the summer, explaining that the bank had business with some apartment owners who might have a furnished apartment available during the summer: "Usually they don't want to rent short term, but if I ask them ..."
She thanked him, also again for the pleasant evening and for meeting his family.
After Easter, he wrote that he had found studio apartment with the details about the rent and address. Barbara and her parents agreed that it was good that she didn't have to look for a place by herself in a strange city.
At the end of spring term, she flew down again and found the apartment, certainly adequate in comparison with a college room. Her first couple of days at work were fine. When she ran into him in the building, he asked if everything was going well and if she was satisfied with the apartment. Then on Friday, he called and reminded her of the invitation to use their pool, inviting her to come over on Sunday, explaining that he had to work on Saturday. She agreed: "if the sun is shining."
Saturday, she acquainted herself with the town and found out how to get to their house. Sunday, the sun did shine. Barbara wondered if she should take her bikini or her one-piece bathing suit, deciding on the latter until she knew what his wife and daughters would wear. When she rang to door bell in the early afternoon, she had to wait longer than she expected, but then he opened the door, just wearing boxer swim trunks, and apologizing for the delay:
"I was out at the pool, as you can see. Welcome. You can use one of the girl's rooms to change, upstairs. You'll find them."
She did, finding them both very orderly - too orderly, if the girls had also changed to go swimming. She changed and found her way to the pool, expecting to find his wife and daughters there, but they weren't.
"Where's your family?"
"Oh, I guess I should have mentioned that in the letter. Anne, my wife, took them to Europe for the summer - surprise graduation present for Annette. At Christmas it was a secret. We decided she should take both of them, since maybe next year Annette will be doing something else after her first year at college. Hope you don't mind just my company."
"Not at all, just surprised. ... Lucky girls - all summer! - where are they going?"
He gestured at the other deckchair with a folded towel on it and sat down on his and started to tell her as she unfolded the towel and sat down. They chatted about Europe; Barbara had also been there. When he mentioned that they were going to the Côte d'Azur, Barbara ventured to say that they might be surprised. She hadn't been there but had heard about girls going topless there. He glanced over at her with a mild snort and agreed:
"Maybe, if that's what you mean. ... Or maybe they won't be; I'm not sure what they wear here when I'm not around, ... or how much homework they have done for the trip."
He changed the subject and suggested that they swim. Barbara got up and dove in, and he followed her. She was a pretty good swimmer, but he was fitter than she had expected, not that his figure had suggested that he wouldn't be. The pool was big enough to really swim a few strokes. He easily kept up with her, matching her racing turns at the deep end, both taking easier turns at the other end. After a few laps, they stood up at the shallow end and looked each other appreciatively.
"Yeah, I used to swim in school, not good enough for college," he remarked as they climbed out of the pool.
"Me too," she agreed, and they exchanged smiles.
"I'm going to have a beer. May I offer you one?"
"Yes, thank you ... - maybe why I wasn't good enough at college."
"I doubt it. ... Oh, that was supposed to be compliment, not any criticism of your swimming."
"Thanks, ... I guess. ... I heard that down here girls always say 'thank you' for a compliment.
"Um-hmm, much nicer than trying to brush it off like they do up north."
"Um-hmm."
"Be right back."
Barbara watched him walk back into the house and then sat down. He returned with two opened bottles of German beer and two glasses and set them down on table between their chairs and poured the beer and handed her a glass, and took his, offering:
"Prost."
"Prost," she responded, and they drank.
"What's that mean?" she asked as he sat down.
"German, really Latin: 'prosit;' more or less: 'to your health.' Want to make the German beer feel at home here."
They both chuckled and had another drink, and since neither of them said anything, had another one before setting down their glasses.
"You speak German?" she asked.
"Not really, despite a summer there and three years in school. I used to be better at it. And you, French?"
"And Latin, but not good enough to say much. ... Hmm, just made sense of the 'prosit'."
"Um-hmm."
They smiled at each other and had another drink. Then he asked how her work was going and seemed interested to hear that it was better than she had expected, mentioning that he had once had a summer job that was just a bit more than sharpening pencils and checking that the bookkeeping machine "before computers, was doing what it couldn't do wrong."
They drank again, and then finished the bit that was still in their glasses. With nods towards the pool, they got up and dove in. This time they swam more leisurely, changing styles: backstroking a lap and then breast stroking, and then crawling again for two laps, and then he did a butterfly lap while she crawled, gasping a little for air when she caught up with him, and then they side-stroked together, facing each other, even after the turns.
As they got out of the pool, they smiled at each other again and got their towels and dried themselves.
"Another beer?" he offered, and she nodded with a smile.
"Oh, I guess I can find something to eat," he suggested: "won't be dinner, but maybe with another beer it will tide us over till breakfast."
"Good idea, thank you. Maybe I can help."
They dried off their bathing suits and went into the house.
In the large refrigerator, they found the makings for an ample cold meal, which they enjoyed at the kitchen table with still another beer, enjoying each other's company. As the sun sank lower, Barbara suggested that she should go, and he agreed, telling her to use the girls' bathroom upstairs to shower. When she returned in her street clothes, he had also showered, wearing a sport shirt and slacks, but still barefoot. As they parted at the door, she recognized that he had also used a nice aftershave lotion. As she thanked him for an enjoyable afternoon, he shook her hand and thanked her for her company, adding:
"Come back next weekend, anytime you want."
"If the sun shines."
"I hope it does."
With smiles, they parted.
During the week, when they once passed each other, he reminded her of his invitation. She nodded and whispered - since someone could have overheard them - "If the sun shines." He nodded with a warm smile, and they went their ways.
Saturday, the sun was shining, but it looked like a thunderstorm was brewing, as one had done the previous day, breaking forth at mid afternoon. He had said "anytime," Barbara recalled and couldn't think of anything she would rather do. Their talk about the Côte d'Azur had suggested that his daughters might go topless at home - bikinis. She stuffed hers in her bag and set off, wondering on the way if she shouldn't have a guest present, but then she was there, ringing the door bell again.
This time, he opened it sooner, again wearing a shirt and slacks and looking pleased to see her. She got another whiff of his aftershave as he said:
"I was hoping you would be thinking the sun was shining. It is, ... for a while at least."
