This story is a work of fiction. Any similarities to any real person or entity are entirely coincidental and unintended.
*****
After considerable soul-searching, Liz and I declined John Smith's offer of senior management positions in his little business empire. That was hard. The offer was very attractive and we both liked John and Karen a great deal. It was difficult to reject them. However, neither Liz nor I had any desire to be a business person. We both enjoyed law enforcement and, notwithstanding Operation Tarpon, felt like we were making a small positive impact.
We did get married in Liz's hometown of Syracuse. Karen and John came to the wedding. I imagine that it was uncomfortable for them to stay clothed that long. I know that it was uncomfortable for us. We took John's suggestion and had our honeymoon at Club Orient on St. Martin. It was great. We were there for a week. While we did go into Phillipsburg and had a couple of dinners at nice restaurants in Grand Case, we spent most of the trip nude. In fact, we managed a stretch of just over 100 consecutive hours in which neither of us wore a stitch of clothing.
Club Orient is on Orient Bay on the French side of the island (Although it is a small island, roughly half of it belongs to France and half to the Netherlands. The two countries spell the name of the island slightly differently). Orient Bay has a magnificent, and now much developed, curving beach. Part of the beach has been a well-known nude beach for decades. Several times during the week, we saw mini-buses and cabs discharge tourists from the cruise ships docked in Phillipsburg. Liz and I made something of a game out of trying to predict which cruise shippers would actually strip down. More than once, I had the impression that friends who had gone on a cruise together were seeing each other nude for the first time at Orient Beach.
With Kate Howley's help, we were also able to finesse the problem of being married and both staying with the Agency. While the Agency discouraged marriage between agents, there was no actual rule against it. That still left us with the problem that Liz was assigned to Buffalo while I was assigned to Indianapolis. There was a formal rule against both members of a married couple working in the same field office.
Since the Agency's primary mission was enforcement of Federal drug laws, there was always a need for agents in Florida. We were able to work out Liz's transfer to the Tampa office and mine to Ft. Myers. Technically, Ft. Myers was a satellite office of Tampa. However, the offices were physically separate and the Ft. Myers agents reported to their Special Agent in Charge ("SAC") who reported to the SAC in Tampa. Since neither of us was an SAC, we were not in the same direct chain of command. The Agency decided that having Liz in Tampa and me in Ft. Myers was ok, until the Agency changed its mind.
In addition to a warmer climate, our move to Florida had some other benefits. Perhaps the biggest for me was my new boss, Ed Needham, the Ft. Myers SAC. On the surface, Ed and I had little in common. Ed was an African-American from Alabama and I was a white guy from Ohio. However, we quickly established a rapport. We had both played college football; although, as Ed never stopped reminding me, his football career had been much more successful than mine. Ed had been a two-year starter at defensive end for an SEC school, and made All-Conference as a senior. I had been lucky to just letter my junior and senior years. Also, as Ed said, "Harry, you spent most of your time on the bench and you guys were playing against those Big Ten pussies."
Ed was a sharp guy with a deep moral streak. Not the superficial morality that worries about things like sex before marriage. Rather, as Ed put it, "There are two kinds of people I aim to get off of the street and into jail: the people who actually get off on hurting other people and the people who don't give a shit about hurting other people so long as they're making money at it. There's too damn many of both kinds."
Ft. Myers was a small office with only five agents in addition to Ed. We all knew each other pretty well and we all got along. Ed was willing to give his agents as much independence as they could handle, and Ed always had your back. In return, Ed expected to be kept well-informed of what you were doing. Ed was ambitious and wanted to move up. But, he wasn't going to throw any of his agents under a bus to protect himself so long as he knew what you were doing before there was any issue. Liz also seemed quite satisfied in Tampa.
Another benefit of moving to Florida was that we bought a house. Although, it took most of our small savings plus a helping hand from Liz's parents. A developer had started building what was intended as a massive subdivision in scrubland east of I-75 not too far from Venice. While the streets and cul-de-sac's were laid out, only ten houses were built on one cul-de-sac before the recession hit and the developer went belly-up. As was the case in several instances in Florida, it took years to unravel and liquidate the developer's holdings. Liz and I were able to buy the last house, a three bedroom, out of bankruptcy for a price we could afford.
The subdivision was pretty barren. The developer's bulldozers had flattened everything and the developer had failed before any landscaping was planted. However, the house seemed reasonably well-constructed and had a few amenities, like an in-ground Jacuzzi on the back patio. We were not alone. The other nine houses were occupied, primarily it seemed, by couples starting out like ourselves. With no vegetation, there was no visual barrier between our lot and the lots to either side. Nuding in our yard was off of the table, at least for several years.
We thought that we could use the Jacuzzi so long as we waited until dark or near dark. We could, and did, stay nude inside the house. We kept the blinds down on the side windows facing our neighbors. However, we felt that we could keep the curtains on the front and back windows open because someone would have to walk almost up to the house to see in. We'd take that risk. We kept tee shirts and shorts handy in case someone rang the doorbell to sell us Girl Scout cookies or the like.
About a week or so after we moved in, Liz and I were in the Jacuzzi, nude of course. It was around dusk. We saw a couple running along the back line of our lot towards the street that served our cul-de-sac. We waved and they waved back. We never saw them return. Feeling fairly secure as it got darker, Liz and I got out of the tub and had a beer sitting at our patio table before we went inside.
A day later, just after we had both gotten home and gotten our clothes off, our doorbell rang. We hastily jumped into our emergency clothes and answered it. Standing on our stoop was an attractive couple, both thin, and about our age.
The woman said, "Hello. I'm Lisa Cooper. This is my husband Grant. We have the house at the end of the cul-de-sac. We wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood." Liz invited them in and offered them something to drink. Then, we invited them out to sit down on the back patio.
After the usual questions about where we were from, what we did, and how we liked the neighborhood, Lisa said, "Grant and I are runners. Because of the heat, this time of year, we usually run around dusk. You guys saw us last night. We run in the back because the ground is easier on our legs than pavement. I'm pretty sure that we were beyond everyone's lot lines and that where we were running belongs to the bankruptcy trustee."
With no trace of a smirk, Grant added, "We noticed that you guys seem to like this patio.
Lisa finished the thought. "We also noticed that you like to use it with no clothes on."
"Shit," I thought, "Busted already!"
Grant said, "We saw you two sitting out here in the nude. We thought that we had to tell you or we'd be peepers or something."
Lisa quickly added, "It's ok with us. Are you guys nudists?"
Liz looked at me. We both laughed. "Yes," Liz said, "we are."
Grant said, "That's cool. I know that a lot of nudists migrate to Florida for the weather." Grant looked at his wife. "Lisa, do you think that any of the other neighbors will be offended?"
"Well," Lisa said thoughtfully, "I'm sure that the Nashes, Martins, and Coffins won't be. I doubt that Ryan and Tina Wills would be and they're on the other side anyway. I don't know the people in the three houses closest to the street that well."
"Neither do I," Gant said.
Standing, Lisa said, "We didn't mean to take up so much of your time. We just felt like we had to tell you that we saw you, but it is ok."
Grant stood up. "Are you going to invite them or do I have to?" he asked his wife.
"Oh, yeah, duh!" Lisa said. "We put an in-ground pool in our back yard last year. There's no one who can see into our yard. We're having a pool party for the cul-de-sac Saturday starting at two. We hope you can come."
"Thank you," I replied. "What should we bring?"
"Beer is always useful, " Grant answered.
"And whatever you want to throw onto the grill. We'll have buns for sausages and burgers," Lisa added.
Liz looked at me. I nodded. "Thanks again," Liz said. "We'll be there."
Not knowing a good butcher yet, Liz and I ran to the nearest Publix that Saturday morning to pick up ground chuck, beer, and some chips and dip. At two that afternoon, we were walking towards the dead end of the cul-de-sac carrying our Publix bags. Liz hand on a stunning dark purple bikini. As always, Liz looked gorgeous. I had on swim trunks and one of my old college tee shirts. I looked like, well, me.
Grant Cooper answered their door and led us through a nicely furnished first floor out into a back patio dominated by a large pool with a diving board. We were introduced to four other couples, about our age, also in swim wear. While no one was aggressively ugly, no one was nearly as beautiful as Liz either. We opened beers and began chatting with our neighbors. They seemed like pretty pleasant people.
Liz and I were both on our second beers when Lisa Cooper raised her voice. "Everyone? May I have just a minute?"
Everyone stopped talking and turned to face Lisa. "Grant and I are glad that you all came today. I'm sorry that the rest of the cul-de-sac didn't come, but that is what it is. We wanted to have this party so that you could all meet our new neighbors, Liz and Harry Stone."
Lisa paused, sipped her beer, and resumed. "Liz and Harry, we are all grateful that you bought your house. The last thing that we want is a vacant house in the cul-de-sac. Anyway, Grant and I made a point of going over to meet Liz and Harry. We're sure that they are a positive addition to the neighborhood."
Standing beside his wife, Grant smiled. "Uh, there is one thing," he said.
