Prologue
Syd waltzed across the Total Woman Clinic lobby that he had struggled into a short week ago. Fergie, the receptionist, gave him a broad smile. Syd remarked "We missed you yesterday at the sauna."
Fergie nodded and said "I missed you too but I am only an intern therapist and not allowed in Group Therapies. Anyway, I won't forget you after Friday night together. It was wonderful."
Syd nodded and turned to leave. Fergie came around the counter and pecked his cheek goodbye. Syd walked through the door onto the sidewalk. At that moment, a white limousine pulled up to the curb. The driver and a nurse got out and opened the rear door. They helped an elderly gentleman into a wheelchair and pushed him towards the Total Woman Clinic. As the door opened, he heard Fergie's chipper voice call "Oh, Mr. Smith, welcome to the Total Woman Clinic. We have been expecting you." Then all sound from inside was muted as the door closed.
Syd almost laughed and thought 'Well, buddy, they are either going to cure you or kill you. If it's the latter, you are going to die a very happy man.'
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Present Day
Willy Smith, born in Bohemia as Wilfred Schmidt, raised his eyes and smiled at the pretty receptionist as his chauffer/bodyguard and his fulltime nurse wheeled him inside the lobby. The youthful receptionist rounded the counter and bent to clasp his frail hands in hers.
"Oh, Mr. Smith, welcome to the Total Woman Clinic. We have been expecting you."
"Please, my dear, my friends call me Willy. And, so my pretty little fraulein, you are called...?"
"I'm Fergie. I'm the receptionist. May I help you with anything?"
"No... no... Gunther and Marge have me well in hand. But the car ride was long and I would like to see my room. Could we go there now?"
"Of course, Mr. Smith..." Wilfred, aka Willy, cocked an eyebrow. He still held her hand warmly.
"... I mean, Willy..." corrected Fergie with a smile and giggle. Willy joined her smile.
Gunther wheeled Willy behind the ushering Fergie. Her pert bubbly ass led them to the elevator. When all were inside the cabin, Fergie pushed 'P' for Penthouse and the elevator moved smoothly to the top floor.
The doors opened onto a large full floor suite with glass surrounding the area on all four sides. The building was not tall but still higher than the surrounding rooftops. A few blocks distant, the ocean waves sloshed against a sandy beach. A small children's playground occupied an adjacent lot below. A surface electric tram rolled by on a distant street, playing a kind of peekaboo between the lines of tall buildings.
There were TWC staff members waiting to welcome Mr. Smith, er... Willy. Fergie made the introductions.
"Folks, this is Willy. That's what he likes to be called. Willy, this is your clinical staff for your week of tests and therapies. Here we have Juanita, for muscle strength... Wanda, for flexibility... Sati, for meditative relaxation."
Willy took time to hold each young woman's hand as he endeavored to fix their names with the faces.
Juanita was a buxom short Hispanic woman with definition and tone to her compact muscular body. Her function was to help Willy get some meat back on his bones and get the bones denser as well.
Wanda was a gorgeous chocolate vision, a mΓ©lange of ethnicities and cultures, dark almond eyes, wavy black hair, a lithe body shaped by hours of competitive swimming.
Sati was the purist definition of a classic Hindu woman. Long thick black hair, bare light brown shoulders, hips and breasts that were full figured, all draped in pastel filmy saris. When she extended her hand, it looked as if she was executing a fluid dance routine. That was her unconscious way of gracefully moving, learned as a child through long practice in the Hindi performance arts.
Willy was enchanted by them all. But as attractive as each was, they could never reach the beauty of his beloved Louisa. Willy's face went stoic as he looked out the window down on the small children's playground.
Willy's mind clouded...
Willy was 20 years old as he stood by his ice cream cart, small children clamoring to buy frozen treats. One youngster got a little pushy. Willy had to stop the action to realign the excited customers into an orderly cue.
"Max! Stop it!" A young blonde woman gave the unruly boy a shake. Willy's heart gave a little shake when he looked at her face. She apologized to Willy for her little brother's behavior. Blonde ringlets, sparkling blue eyes, clear complexion all hovering above a fit and shapely frame. She wore a pale yellow sleeveless dress, hem close to her knees, and black sensible shoes. Willy caught himself staring too long; the young lady caught him staring too long. Then she extended her hand in greeting.
"Hi, I'm Louisa. Sorry about Max, he's just that way." When Willy touched her hand, static tingles swept his arm and lit his skin from head to toe. He stammered.
"Hi... ugh... I'm Wilfred... Willy, to my friends. Pleased to meet you, Louisa. Don't worry about Max, it happens all the time. Please have an ice cream from me for helping out."
"Why, thank you... Willy."
What followed were daily encounters as Louisa found excuses to be at the playground when Willy sold his ice creams. That led to coffees in the afternoons, dinners with her parents, later evenings alone in low-lit, snuggly places and a grand wedding ceremony before the gilded alter in the Lutheran cathedral.
Times were hard in the Weimar Republic but Willy and Louisa found a way to survive and their love for each other blossomed into full bloom when the baby was born. Then one night, brown shirts knocked on their door, questioning the Aryan purity of Louisa's parentage. They wanted her to expound on her ancestry. Willy managed to talk them out of the apartment without endangering his wife and child. Willy promised to find the misplaced papers and bring them to the registry tomorrow.
It was time to leave Germany. That night, they packed what they could carry and fled to Switzerland, eventually to America.
Willy found work with an ice cream maker. He was good with customers and sales. He rose within the company. During the war, the company developed a better process for powdered milk. It was a huge market, feeding the soldiers, the refugees and finally the remaining survivors of the great destruction. When the company owner retired in the 50's, Willy bought him out, financing the enterprise with growing profits and luck.
Louisa, Willy, their son Rolf, and the little daughter, Eva, prospered. The grown Rolf went on to found a company of his own and presented Louisa and Willy with grandchildren and they, in turn, gave them great grandchildren. But money and progeny were unsuccessful in softening the blow of Louisa's passing. Willy comforted Louisa as she fought for life. But eventually, it was just her time to leave.