I was a little disappointed when my landscaper let me know he was moving on to another job, and wouldn't be available to take care of my yard anymore. He had been with me for several years, and even though I had my issues with some of his work (he wouldn't tackle the hillside at the back of my property, for example), he did show up and take care of the basics, and we all know that just finding reliable and trustworthy workers is a challenge!
He didn't leave me without an option, however. When he delivered his news, he was ready with a referral. A woman that he had taken horticulture classes with at the local community college was looking for clients, and he suggested I give her a call. I took the number gratefully, and resolved to give her a try.
So it was with some curiosity that I awaited her arrival to start for us. She pulled up in an older SUV, tools packed in the back. And when she stepped out, smiling and a little shy, she looked the part. Baggy overalls, a long sleved t-shirt, and a truckers hat. She was a little older than I expected, probably in her early 40's and a solid build, although it was a little hard to see with her gardening clothes on, and of course it didn't matter all that much to me. I just needed the help around the yard.
But I got more than that, a lot more. Here's what happened.
Her name was Miranda, and she started showing up weekly. I worked with her the first few times to get an idea of what she was capable of and to make sure she was familiar with what I wanted the yard to look like and a few particulars that I wanted. This was late winter, in March, so the weather was cool, and often rainy up here in the Pacific Northwest, so she was usually in overalls and hooded sweatshirts, rain gear, that sort of thing. Not the kind of clothing that showed off anything.
Miranda was sweet and friendly, and as we became more familiar with one another, there was some good natured teasing and banter between us. She had a quick smile, and the way her mouth upturned at the corners when she giggled was really cute. Her blue eyes sparkled beneath dark bangs, and I never really saw how long her hair was as it was up in a bun for working.
Until April. The first warm day in April she arrived and started working, and I went out into the yard a little later in the afternoon, and there she was still in her overalls, but this time wearing just a sleeveless t-shirt underneath, showing off some beautiful skin across her shoulders and even a bit down her throat and to her chest. The neckline of her overalls allowed just a tiny bit of cleavage to show where her t-shirt dipped down in front, and it was obvious that she she had lovely breasts, clearly full and round, and my imagination wandered a bit seeing that exposed skin.
Since I'm retired now, I probably shouldn't be thinking about such things with a woman so much younger (I think we're looking at more than a 20 year age gap) but I've kept myself in good shape, still leading a sporting life and working out, and still a healthy libido. I smiled and shook my head and told myself to look away and keep things professional. Which worked, mostly.
That is, until quitting time. As it turned out, my wife had left for an evening out with some of her friends, and as the sun was headed for the horizon I turned to her impulsively and said, "hey, I've got a lovely bottle of Chardonnay that's been looking for an excuse to be opened. Would you like to share a glass up on the deck?"
Miranda smiled, her eyes crinkling a little in an impish way, and looking right at me, she said, "I'd love that, yes!"
"But I'm kind of dirty, I hope you don't mind" she finished. I'm sure I saw her light brown eyes sparkle.
I gulped at the obvious double entendre and just smiled. "Of course not. I'll show you where you can wash and freshen up."
We walked back to the house, and took our boots off, I showed her the bath and watched her eyes widen at the sizeable bathroom with the marble tile. "mmm, that's sumptuous" she said. I smiled my best, and left her alone while I cleaned up a little myself and then turned to the task of getting the chilled bottle of wine open, and a couple of wine glasses out. There was some lovely gouda cheese I rustled up as well as some crackers and I sat down at the deck table in the last rays of the setting sun.
She appeared a moment later, glowing in the warm light. Her coveralls were unbuttoned off of one shoulder and her hair was down and loose, shining and dark.
"Here," I said, pouring. "It's a local wine I picked up at a tasting event recently, I really liked it, I hope you do, too."
"Oh," she said, sighing, "this looks lovely, the cheese and all, I'm sure it will be terrific. And the view, up here above the yard, it's much better, isn't it?"
She took her glass and moved to the deck railing to take in the expanse of the valley below. We did have one of the nicest views in the area, the house sitting up and exposed to the west, and the trees below gave way to the valley below, and the lake glistening in the last rays of the afternoon. I stepped beside her and we both quietly enjoyed the view for a moment.
The next few minutes was spent in some quiet conversation, she told me a little about her life, living as a single mom, her son off with his father this week. She enjoyed politics and we had similar views, she liked snow sports and we shared a love of skiing. Another glass of wine, and there was definitely something in the air besides the early season warmth. Another kind of warmth that I could feel.
I asked her about one of the plants below in the yard, and we ended up standing next to one another at the deck railing again, looking down. I was gazing at her, though, her soft lips looking full and very kissable. She turned and met my gaze. We held there a moment, and impulsively, I raised my glass, and said, "here's to all the crazy things in life..."
She smiled again, lifting her glass without looking away. We sipped, and I reached over and touched her cheek, brushing it with the back of my hand. "I hope you don't mind," I said softly.
"No," she replied. "that feels nice. I haven't been touched in that way for a while." She looked down.
I slipped my fingers under her chin and lifted her face toward mine and kissed her lips gently.
"And that?" I asked. "Have you been kissed lately?"
She answered by pulling closer and returning the kiss, softly at first, and then with a little more urgency.
I set down my glass on the deck railing and slipped my arms around her and pulled her to me, keeping the kiss, our tongues now tentatively touching, playing, asking for more.
