Author's note; Readers, thank you for voting 'Mitzi at Poolside' the number one submission in the National Nude Day 2003 contest. The following story is another of those did it really happen? kind of stories. I'll leave it to you to decide! –puppop
It was pretty quiet around the house. I'd expected Marie back by seven and so prepared a light dinner in view of the hour, seafood salad for two. Rubbing my chin, I was looking over the wine selection, trying to select something complimentary when the phone rang. It was Marie. She was just leaving Savannah, to begin driving home. Court had gone over, the presiding judge had elected to finish the hearings before recessing for the next week. Marie was elated that it appeared a ruling would come down in her client's favor, but annoyed at the lateness of the hour. She was going to eat at the Cracker Barrel and head in. Hiding my disappointment, I told her to call me in a little while and be careful.
After I hung up, the house seemed more silent than before. I turned on the remnants of the news, covered Marie's salad and put it in the fridge. Made a couple of calls, then grabbed a cheap white wine and ate in the study. I had some billing to catch up on anyway, stuff people like me always put off with any convenient excuse. The cat stretched and yawned from her pillow in the bottom desk drawer as I struggled to remember what my hastily scribbled notes meant days after the fact. The house phone trilled. Mitzi from next door, calling for Marie. I explained what happened and she reminded me to turn on the outside light for the late hour. She rang off with a sultry chuckle.
Mitzi lives next door, now single after a bolt out of the blue divorce. She's a couple of years younger than me, (seems like everyone is anymore) and is the same age as Marie. We've known each other as neighbors for many years, although recently our friendship has taken a new twist. It's something my methodical mind is still sorting through.
Opening the windows, I gazed out at the darkening twilight. The birds were making their settling sounds in the cedars by the porch. A car went by with it's headlights on. The lavender skies overhead hosted emerging swallows, wheeling and dipping, chittering as they soared. The air felt crisp, portending cooler evenings to come. I could smell fresh cut grass. It made me remember Daufuskie Island for some reason. They'd just finished mowing when we landed there via boat, one of those dinner excursions, very black tie. The food was useless fru-fru, half cooked fare a starving waif would have sneered at. Afterwards, we conversed with another couple at our big table over brandies. Marie's glittering necklace caught the candlelight as she leaned close to me, breasts barely covered in her cocktail dress. Her eyes were full of merriment and mischievousness. My co conspirator through all these years, looking so formal while she stroked me under the table, squeezing the tip, making me jerk. We returned to the condo late, and dragged the wicker couch out on our balcony. We made love as the waves boomed sixty feet below us. Her body worked sinuously above me, backlit by a passing freighter on that moonless night.
Returning to my desk, my life, my present, I got out a cigarette from my hiding spot. Lighting, inhaling, sinning. My secret life. I tried to focus on the work spread across the blotter. The cat had carefully arranged herself across most of it. Not wanting to disturb her, I elected to give up working and get my shower.
When Marie was away on business as she had been this past week, the bathroom looked barren. I was accustomed to all the remedies and potions, vital elixirs scattered with seeming abandon across the vanities. Upon emerging from the shower stall, I discovered the cleaning lady had forgotten to set out fresh towels. Muttering under my breath and tracking water to the hall, I'd just gotten a towel from the linen closet when the phone rang.
I took the call in the study, putting it on speaker phone while I towelled down. It was Marie again.
"Hey Handsome, it's me. Guess I shoulda had you overnight me some CDs while I was down here. There isn't shit for radio stations in podunk land!"
I laughed, envisioning the long empty stretches of I-16 en route to Macon. I could hear some music in the background when she spoke on the hands free. "You could check the hog futures I suppose, girl. I hear something playing though. What are you listening to?"
"Oh, that old Java Monkey CD of yours was in the glove box. I just didn't want to listen to it for the next coupla hours. I thought we'd visit for a while, keep me awake. Least 'til I get up to Macon. Is that OK, or were you doing something?"
"No, that's fine. It's kinda lonely around here, plus the cat's laying across the desk. So I can't work." I finished wiping the water out of my ears and began mopping up the floor beneath me.
"How's the car doing?" I asked. Marie had taken my Eldorado down, just to keep the miles off her Jag. I stubbornly refused to upgrade, even though the odometer had passed the century mark two years ago. Last month, the transmission had given up and our dealer rebuilt it. This was it's first road outing since.
"Seems fine, Honey. I've got the cruise on, legs stretched out, and my dress is up to my waist. Keeping that thing cool, you know." A pause, then her sultry voice. "Betcha'd like to see me, wouldn't ya, Big Boy. I KNOW I could stand to see you!"
"You're incorrigible, girl." I laughed, sitting down at my desk. "Such a one track mind. What put Madame Serious in such a playful mood?"
"I don't know. I think this CD reminded me of our Saturday night two weeks ago. Do you remember? You had it on the night you dropped your cigarette between the seat and the door and you pulled off the road at THAT PLACE. One thought leads to another. Just thinking about our little adventure."
"Oh, so that's how it is, huh? You sure you want to talk like this on a cell phone?" I was hoping that she did. We hadn't really discussed our wild evening two weeks ago because of an avalanche of work.
"Ted the Dinosaur" came her sing-song reply. "Hello, cell phones are digital now. Lots more private." She giggled. "I only have one hand on the steering wheel. Tell me about that night, in your own words, please."
"Listen, Pilgrim, I'm only gonna tell you this one time!" My best John Wayne.
"No, come ON, be serious Tedward. Your OWN words, K?" Than, conspiratorially whispering low."I couldn't help myself the other night in the hotel room. I kept remembering what we did and finally had to DO SOMETHING. I'm naughty, aren't I?"
"Yeah Baby, very naughty. OK, you win. Here it is in my own words. You promise to behave now, hear?"
Marie's voice, breathless, contrite. "Oh yes, I'll be good. I'd rather be bad, but maybe later..."
I leaned back in the chair, gazing out the window as I collected my thoughts. It was dark now, and quiet except for the crickets chirping. The tree frogs hadn't begun their chorus yet. The security light was starting to come on out by the street, it's halide glow flickering through the gently swaying branches of the poplars. I thought I heard the creak of Mitzi's privacy gate next door and a car went by, trunk buzzing from the thunderous bass of hip hop. I could hear Marie's breathing through her headset, coming through the speaker, patiently waiting...
***
Ben Jerrolds, the senior partner at Marie's firm, had thrown a little bash to celebrate landing a big client heavily involved in acquisitions. Marie and I had attended, driving down from the mountains to his lavish estate off Tuxedo Road. It was a catered event, with a rented eight piece band to play all the favorites. We had a good time. I'd dealt with a few of the attorneys up in corporate over the years, and we stood around talking shop and gawking at the trophy wives and girlfriends.
During the band's break later in the evening, a chubby girl in billing got Marie and I to accompany her as she sang a couple of old Carole King favorites. Marie on piano, myself on a borrowed guitar, playing to a rapt and slightly inebriated audience. Later, as the party was breaking up and people were taking their leave, we were shaking hands with old Ben. "I don't know why I rented a band" he said chuckling. "Hell, I've got plenty of talent in house!" Kissing Marie on the cheek. "Ya'll be careful goin' home now. Anyone that wants to stay over, why, there's plenty of room."
We declined, thanking him for a great evening as the valet brought up my aging Eldo. The bright porch lights disappeared in the rear view as we glided out to Roswell Road and headed north. Marie popped open the glove box and pulled out my 'secret' pack of smokes. Lighting one, she handed it to me. I glanced at her, trying to see which way the wind blew.
"Oh, I know about them. Face it Teddo, you're not the world's most secretive man. If this is the worst you can do, then I'm a lucky girl." She smiled, then got serious. "I DO want you to put them down. I want you with me forever and a day. K?"
I was smiling back at her when a possum ran out from the curb. I swerved and missed it, but dropped my smoke on the floor under the seat. Quickly, I pulled into a small parking lot and stopped, throwing the door open, smelling burning carpet. Shit, shit, shit. Finally retrieving it from against the seatbelt retractor, I heard Marie guffaw, "Ted, look where we are. You gotta see this!"
I emerged, brushing lint from my tie. We'd parked in front of a business sporting a small neon sign. In stylish pink script it read, 'Discreet Lingerie Modeling'. A small reader board on the wooden door showed it's hours of operation and the fact that it was open. I glanced at my watch, realizing it was a quarter past midnight.
As I climbed back in, Marie said "I saw you check the time. Gonna get a quickie while we're here?" She giggled. When merlot is present at a party, Marie samples liberally. I explained this was a jack shack, not a brothel, and how business was conducted.
She hung on my words intently. Staring out the passenger window at the neon sign, she asked "So when was the last time you stopped in here, Big Boy? Not EVERYONE knows about this kind of thing."
I laughed. "Oh, it shows up in the papers whenever there's an election. Channel Two had a special report last go-round. That pony tail lawyer on Peachtree represents them, charges get dropped, biz as usual."
"Huh. So you've never been in one, Scout's Honor?"
"No, Sweetie, never."
"Can girls go in there?"
I was taken aback. "I don't know. I think it's a guy thing. That's why they call 'em jack shacks."
"I want to go in. No, I'm serious. I want to SEE!"
