Once more I have to thank S. for her assistance in editing and providing valuable ideas. This a work of fiction cobbled together from my imagination. Any resemblance to people living or dead is purely coincidental. Reading the first two parts will help you understand the characters and the position they find themselves in.
*****
Michael was bored and irritable.
The seventy-eight year old widower was lonely. He had given up on the detective novel he was reading on his Kindle. The third book he'd consumed in four days. He'd seen all the movies that interested him on Netflix. Even the BBC classical radio he tuned to on his VPN made no impact on him. The sounds faded into the background like his painted walls.
His visit that morning to the local upscale supermarket had been momentarily interesting. He's managed to fall into conversation with three different yummy-mummies without any of them inviting him to sit down for a coffee. His mind may have lusted after them but his body knew it was unlikely to be up to the task if any of them had encouraged him, notwithstanding his memories of the recent encounter with his Anita. In his heart of hearts he knew these young mothers only saw a lonely old man who they felt they should humor him for a few moments.
He had not heard from Annie, as Anita now wished to be called, for almost two weeks. She usually called him on a weekly basis. His overall irritation extended to her. Michael called her.
"So how's it going?" He was met with silence. "Michael here."
"Fine." Annie drew out the word, before a note of anxiety entered her voice. "Michael, is everything OK? Do you need help?"
"No, no. Just calling to see how you're doing."
"I'm good. Been busy though. Am busy just now." Annie thought to herself that she better give Michael a few minutes of her time.
"Whatcha been up to?"
"You'll never guess." She paused for Michael to respond but he remained silent. "No? Well... I've been designing a website."
This caught Michael's attention. "You what?"
"Yep. And it works. Looks good if I say it myself. Take a look at it later and give me your comments." Annie gave him the web address.
"This is the Annie who once asked me how to boot up her computer?"
"Com'on I was never quite that bad."
"OK. I exaggerate a bit. I never took you for IT material."
"I read up and have used one of those template website builders. No coding or anything like that. Actually its quite easy from the templates."
"How did you get yourself into this? And, hey, why do you want a website?" Speaking to Annie always cheered him up. As usual he started to flirt. "Offering your services on line now are you?"
"You're so bad. That's an idea. Annie's Brings Comfort. ABC. No. I have someone who I now count as a friend. Katrina, everyone calls her Kitty, was a colleague of mine at the school. She taught chemistry. I did not know her particularly well when we were teaching. She was similar to me. She went all-in for the students, just like me - no time for teacher's room friendships. All business."
"Is she retired too?"
"Yes, she retired the same time as me. She was at my retirement party. I missed hers because I was away in Paris. You should meet her. We could be taken as twin sisters. Same age. Same coloring. Same build. Good figure just like mine" Annie couldn't resist her own tease, with a smile in her voice. "Only it's not fair her tits are bigger than mine. On second thoughts maybe I should keep her away from you."
"You've seen them already?"
"No. Silly. Just the way she fills her sweaters. Anyway... Katarina is a fabulous cook. When she retired she set up a small time high-end catering business -Exquisite Catering. Just does domestic dinner parties for no more than a dozen people. She does the cooking all herself. She's now been doing it long enough that she finds she can cope with the demand easily and would like to expand her business. Not sure she makes any serious money. Maybe a bit of pocket money."
"So how did your gig come about?"
"She approached me rationalizing to herself that as an art teacher I should know something about design. I did a few business flyers and a couple of menu designs for her. She liked those and they brought in some business. But she discovered that people now look on line for menu options and are prepared to book through a website. Hence I got the commission."
"Paid?"
"In great food. She always slightly over-caters so there are always left overs. I'm putting on weight. More to cuddle."
"Sounds good.'
'I'll bring some food over. I know she has a big party coming up on Thursday. There's sure to be a lot left over - I'll bring a sampling."
"Mouth's watering already. It'll beat my gruel diet."
"Poor baby. Really feel sorry for you." Annie's voice took on a mocking tone. "Changing the subjects completely did you publish the last story?"
"Sure did. Raises the question as to how the Bridge celebration went. Have fun?"
Annie dragged out a long, "Oh, yes-sir-ee. I'll tell you about when I come over on Friday. Hey that's a week from today. Michael I really have to go now. Sorry. I have to sort out a bug in the payment bit of the website. Found it in my beta testing. Impressed with my technical jargon? Sorry to bail on you darling. Gotta go." Her voice was rushed.
"Understand. Bye, sweetie."
Annie rang off knowing full well that Michael would be disappointed he did not have much time with her.
*******
Two things brightened Michael's weekend and week. The first was the anticipation of seeing Annie and the second was quite unexpected.
About once a month he visited a former work colleague, Jim, who was in his mid eighties crippled with arthritis but still with a sharp mind and a good sense of humor. They both painted in oils, although Michael had nearly totally given up doing any painting. Somehow in spite of his infirmities Jim continued to paint rather folksy portraits.
Michael and Jim were into their second cup of coffee, complaining to each other about the state of the world and particularly the kids with their heads in their smart phones, when Jim's twenty three year old granddaughter, Julie let herself into the apartment. She had a key. She arrived for her portrait session. Jim had forgotten about it. He painfully rose to his feet. She launched herself at Jim and gave him a long and close hug. "You smell good you old bear you." Michael thought she looked good. "And who are you?"
"Michael. Pleased to meet you." Michael held out his hand. But he too received a big tight hug. He was acutely aware of her medium sized breasts and pubic mound pushing into him.
"Oh yea. I know about you." How much Michael wondered.
Julie had just graduated in psychology and was waiting to hear if she had funds to do research for her doctorate. She was a vivacious young woman. Immediately she launched into her grandfather.
"What sort of Gramps are you that you forget your lovely, favourite granddaughter's portrait? I ask you. There you are sitting around with another old fart telling dirty jokes and recollecting the days when you used to lust after young women."
Jim broke in, "Hold on there Girly. Not so much of the when. What make you think we still don't lust after young women?"
"In your dreams, old man."
Michael noticed how her green eyes sparkled and contrasted beautifully with her almost ginger hair and her skin saturated with freckles. Jim let out a great belly laugh.
"Darlin' with you it would be incest. But I'm so old any incest sanction has run out so how about it?"
"Just as I said. Dirty old men." She looked at Michael. "You too I bet. Only that wouldn't be incest, just cradle snatching." Michael blushed slightly. "See. I'm right. D. O. M. It's a syndrome written up in all the books on aging." It took a moment for Michael to figure out what she was talking about - Dirty Old Men.
"Aren't you the know it all?" Jim spat out with a broad grin on his face.
"You've just given me an idea. I might test out a line of research I might take up for my doctorate. Back in a minute."
Michael could not help himself remarking on Julie. "Good looking Granddaughter. Must get her looks from her mother's side of the family."
"You're as bad as her. I used to be ginger at her age. Known as Gin-Jim. So there. She's a cracker though. Wish I were sixty years younger. Love her to pieces. She's the only one who drops in to see me." Jim's eyes had teared up.
Julie returned with two large sketchbooks and a handful of soft pencils she retrieved from her Gramp's second bedroom that doubled as a studio. She knew her way around.
Michael spoke up, "So what's the research proposition?"
"Dirty Old Men are all talk and no action."
'Really?"
"Oh, you're going deaf as well. That's quite natural. Now listen up test subjects. You are both going to do ..."Julie stopped for a moment and silently counted on her fingers, "...six sketches of me. That's all I am saying, except they'll be gestural sketches that take no longer than four minutes each. Get ready." Julie handed the sketchpads and pencils to us, "Make yourselves comfortable guys. He clock starts now." Julie stuck a pose sitting on the low stool.
They both sketched quickly. Michael's sketch was better than Jim's who was hampered by his arthritic hands.
"Let me see." Julie looked at their efforts bent down and removed her socks. "You do not have to do the whole body. Just look at my beautiful feet, for example. Julie did have long elegant feet.
Michael and Jim went at it again. Michael did her face that turned out really well, and Jim mangled her feet.
"Good." She nodded her approval of Michael's portrait.
Julie removed her hunter green tee shirt. It was done so quickly it took a moment or two for the men to register what Julie had just done. She wore a lightweight bra. The darkness of her areolae as well as Julie's mild nipple arousal showed through the material.
Jim said, "Are you sure about this Julie?" he looked a bit worried.
