After the absolute worst day, I found myself waiting for a bus under a shelter in the pouring rain. Out of nowhere, a truck zoomed-by and a wall of water rose up from the street and soaked me from head to toe. I stood there on the verge of tears. It was a perfectly miserable ending to a perfectly miserable day. Above the noise of the traffic and the falling rain, I heard a voice call to me from behind. I tried to pull myself together before turning toward the voice.
A lady was calling to me from her doorstep. She told me she saw everything and asked if I was alright. I tried to tell her I was, but she couldn't hear me over the rain and street noises. Lowering my chin, I finally dashed through the rain toward her home. As I walked up the steps to her home, she opened the door wide, inviting me inside. It didn't occur to me that I didn't know this woman and I was entering her house. All I knew was that she was the first kind person I'd encountered all day long. After stepping into the entryway, I waited while she closed the door behind me. I stood there soaking wet, an emotional wreck and utterly defeated by the day I'd had.
She was a tall, substantial woman compared to my petite, 5'5" frame and appeared to be just a little younger than my mother. She looked down at me with sympathetic eyes and asked if I was okay. I tried to tell her I was, but before I could speak those words, my chin quivered and my emotions welled-up inside of me. Tears rolled down my cheeks and I began babbling about all the awful things that had happened since I'd gotten out of bed that morning.
When my voice cracked and I paused talking to catch my breath, she laid her soft, warm hand on my cheek and said, "You poor thing. I'm so sorry you've had a bad day." Her voice was gentle, kind and understanding.
While I continued to sob and whine about the day I'd had, this woman guided me to a bench just inside her home. After having me sit down, she knelt down and removed my dripping-wet shoes and socks. Rising up, she took my shivering hand and led me down a hallway to a large, recently cleaned bathroom. The room smelled of lavender and was decorated tastefully with pale violet floral patterns.
She pulled a towel from a nearby rack, folded it in quarters and laid it over the toilet seat cover. She had me sit down and warmed a washcloth under the sink. She knelt in front of me again and gently washed my face. The last person to ever wash my face for me was my mother. It was a truly compassionate act and it warmed my heart.
As I calmed down, I whispered, "I, I, I don't know your name."
She smiled while passing the warm cloth over my eyes once more. In that same kind voice, she said, "Peggy. My name is Peggy. What is your name Sweetheart?"
A warmth radiated throughout my body when she called me 'Sweetheart'. Peggy was proving to be the savior I'd needed to change the course of my day. After nibbling on my lower lip, I whispered, "It's nice to meet you, Peggy. I'm Robin."
While tapping her first finger against the tip of my nose, she said, "A cute name for a cute young man. Robin, like a little bird! Your name suits you perfectly!"
There was something about Peggy that made me feel safe and warm. She was so caring and sympathetic, it was impossible for me not to feel perfectly comfortable in her presence.
After setting the washcloth on the counter near the sink, Peggy's eyes drifted from my bare feet, up my drenched pants, over my soaking wet shirt and then to my eyes which were swollen from crying, and finally to the soggy mess that was my hair. She rose up onto her feet. Holding both of my hands, she told me that I needed to get out of my wet clothes before I caught a cold. She went onto suggest I take a warm bath to take the chill off. Without waiting for a response from me, she turned, pulled the thick shower curtain all the way open, knelt down and began to run a bath.
I stood there and watched Peggy, a woman I'd just met, filling the bathtub. She was the nicest person I could remember ever meeting. Even after knowing her for such a short time, I could tell she truly cared about me. Why else would she invite me into her home, wash my face and worry about me catching a cold?
When Peggy had the water temperature adjusted, she closed the drain so the tub would begin filling. I stood there feeling a little foolish, I wasn't sure if she expected me to undress while she was in the room. Thankfully she excused herself so I could disrobe. From the opposite side of the door, she asked me to pass her my wet clothes so she could run them through the washer and dryer.
I watched myself undress in the mirror over the sink. I peeled the wet shirt off my body, cracked the door open and passed it to Peggy. She stood there and took it from me. She talked about getting them clean and warmed up for me. She also talked about finding something for me to wear once I got out of the tub. I next wiggled out of my pants, as before, I cracked open the door and passed them to Peggy. Turning to see myself in the mirror, I reached down and pulled my underwear down. After stepping out of them and holding them in my hand, I saw my reflection and that warm feeling began to radiate through my body again. At Peggy's suggestion, I checked the tub. It was full and I turned the water off. Cracking the door open, I passed my underpants to Peggy. She had a playful grin on her face when she took them from my hand.
While peeking out at her from behind the door she spoke in a soft, gentle voice, "Now hop in the tub, Robin. I may have forgotten to put out a cake of soap. If you look under the sink, you'll find several new packages. It would be silly to take a bath and not wash."
Standing naked on the other side of the door, I thanked her for being so kind. I told her my day would have been a complete disaster if I hadn't met her. She thanked me for saying so and left to get my clothes in the washer. I closed the door and discovered the door didn't lock. It wasn't that the lock didn't work, the door didn't have a lock at all. A shiver shot up my spine, it wasn't the warm feeling I was used to associating when I thought of Peggy. This was a shiver that made my penis tingle.
I soon turned and knelt in front of her sink, opening the cabinet doors I found a pyramid of Camay soap packages. It was the same soap my mother used. I timidly took the package from the top of the pyramid and began to remove the wrappings. My eyes drifted to the other items she kept under the sink. There was a long-handled bath brush, a giant bottle of Ivory hand soap, a red rubber enema bag, extra rolls of toilet paper and a wide selection of cleaning supplies.