A tale set back in the very late 1990's...
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Roger Ward was a handyman by trade, and the 44 year old divorced father of one grown son managed to carve out a decent living in Boonville, New York working for a construction company and doing odd jobs on the side. Roger probably could have left the company and done fine by himself because he had a good reputation, mostly because in the words of one of the women he did work for, "at least you show up." Attendance and punctuality were not traits of most of the guys who did his line of work in that area, since most of them hung out at Stewart's drinking coffee, telling tales and only laboring when necessity called on it.
Occasionally these odd jobs had fringe benefits, as was the case when Roger took a project on for this divorcee, a rather attractive woman his age who pretty much seduced the handyman, although Roger would have been the first to admit he wasn't a challenge, to which his ex-wife would agree.
Darla Gaudet was a real estate agent and was a very self-centered woman. Proof of that was the fact that Roger didn't know her only child still lived with her, since Darla never said much about Hannah. Only after Roger had been put under the spell of Darla's 38 inch bust did that come out, and Roger soon figured out why that was. Darla was ashamed of her daughter, and he assumed it was probably because Darla said she was handicapped as a result of a horrible car accident she had been in a few years ago that had even put Hannah in a body cast for a time.
Handicapped wasn't the correct term because there was nothing wrong with Hannah outside of her being very shy and socially awkward. Roger figured that was the result of the noticeable limp Hannah had to deal with. Roger had also figured out that many of the kid's problems came from her mother not exactly being the most supportive person in the world.
The more Roger learned about Darla the less he liked her, and much of that came from treating her daughter like she was an albatross because she wasn't a cheerleader like her Mom had been and was no raving beauty. The girl couldn't help the limp - having seen the pictures of the car Hannah was lucky to be alive - and Darla hadn't volunteered the information that she had been driving. Making it worse was that her husband - Hannah's Dad - had gotten a divorce and only dealt with Hannah on her birthday.
Those were the reasons that Roger had made every effort to befriend the teen, and while it took some time Hannah had come out of her shell with him. That was a good thing, the handyman had thought at first, but more and more Roger was getting the feeling that their relationship was getting into a dangerous territory because he was starting to like the girl a lot more than her mother. Even worse, Roger Ward wasn't sure whose fault that was, but Roger himself can best tell the tale...
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"Am I the boyfriend or just a handyman trading his time for an occasional roll in the hay?" I said to myself after I finished putting the gutter back up on the porch, and I had to remember that there was no anchor on my ass and if I didn't like it I could move along to the next one.
Problem was I was tired of 'next ones' and was hoping to settle down before I started to see the real Darla, I reasoned when I saw the window curtain move as I put the ladder away. It might have been the cat but I had a sneaky suspicion that it was a young lady who was supposed to be in school, so I used my key on the back door and walked in, presumably to use the bathroom but when I passed Hannah's bedroom on the way and saw the light on with the door ajar I knew my suspicions were right.
What I needed to do was to take care of business in the bathroom and walk right out the door because if I didn't there were lot of things that could happen and most of them were bad. Not because I didn't think that Hannah Renee Gaudet wasn't adorable because she was, and it wasn't because she wasn't old enough because she was, just barely. I was a little more than twice her age and was dating her mother, for crying out loud.
What was worse was that Hannah had begun to flirt with me lately. Not when her Mom was around but she was flirting and it was so clear that she didn't know how to do it either. She was probably behaving like some overacting star in a sitcom she had seen, doing everything but batting her eyelashes like a cartoon character. I admit I had sort of flirted with her too at first, but I was only kidding when I did it, to cheer her up.
"Mr. Ward?" came the chirp from the bedroom door I had managed to pass, so I stopped and went back to the doorway where Hannah was sitting at the computer, probably waiting for the glacial dial-up service we are stuck with up here to kick in. "You weren't even going to stop by and say hi to me?"
"I thought you must be in school Hannah. It is Tuesday," I reminded her. "The school year's almost over and it would be a shame to screw up now and have to go to summer school."
"No chance. I almost became Salutatorian. Going to fall short by less than a point they told me."
"That's excellent," I exclaimed and was tempted to go in and give her a hug but she was wearing a lime green nightie.
"Not that great an honor," Hannah replied. "You know how many kids are in my graduating class?"
"It's still great."
"This computer takes forever," she moaned.
"When I was your age there weren't computers in people's houses," I told her, wincing when I realized I was sounding more like my old man everyday. "A computer from back then that does what this does wouldn't even fit in this room."
"I am getting an award for being the oldest graduate."
"You are not. Not your fault you lost a year."
"Why don't you come in and keep me company for a few minutes Mr. Ward?"
"Two conditions. You know how I feel about the Mr. Ward bit. Mr. Ward is my father. Roger is the name. Also, does your mother know you aren't at school?"
"She won't know if you don't tell her," Hannah claimed. "I - uh - missed the bus."
"Oh," was my response, and I couldn't help but wonder whether she had found out I was coming by and decided to stay home. "You might put some more clothes on too."
"If you fix the air conditioning I would," Hannah smartly said, knowing full well there was no AC to fix.
"So now you can come keep me company," I was told as Hannah directed me to the chair she pulled way too close to her. "Sit please."
"So what are you working on?"
"Trying to get my term paper done," Hannah said and I tried not to look at anything but her eyes because while her nightie wasn't anything exotic it was clear she had no bra on underneath.
Some might say there was no need for a bra but there clearly was something there so my eyes focused on her plain face that could use some more chin, the pug nose and the blonde hair that could use a cut instead of those little cones that stuck out into the satiny fabric.
"Do you know anything about Stalin?"
"How old do you think I am?" was my answer, and that made Hannah laugh, an almost cartoon character giggle that was way funnier than what I had said.
"I think that I..." Hannah said before getting up to get something apparently in her book bag, but when I tried to stop her to tell her I would get it, the fiery Hannah appeared and told me in no uncertain terms. "I'm not a cripple!"
"Sorry," I mumbled and slid back to let the little lady by, and while she was unsteady when she first stood up and dragged her right leg a bit when she moved, she was correct.
So I sat there and watched her go over towards the backpack, briefly noting the vague image of the scar on her hip through her nightie, but as I admired her rather shapely, petite legs I started to wonder if she was just parading like this for my benefit. Then she bent down and pulled some papers out, talking what seemed like way too long, and my eyes went to the nightie which rode up to expose the fact that not only was Hannah bra-less, she also wasn't wearing panties, exposing the bottom parts of her pale little buns.
