There was nothing enjoyable about moving, that much 54 year old Vito Donato was sure of he thought as he dragged yet another box out of his van and into the very modest bungalow he had bought after his recent divorce. Having to lug all his belongings was a lot more painful than the end of his 25 year marriage, mainly because it was his often wayward ways that forced the end.
This new place was not nearly as nice as the house he left to his wife, much smaller and in a less affluent neighborhood, but he didn't need that much room any more anyway. The houses were closer together as well, and Vito could help notice that there was a young girl next door who always seemed to be sitting by the window, a chubby faced kid with a bowl haircut.
Since the weather had been gorgeous of late and the kid was always in the same place, Vito came to the conclusion the poor thing was probably handicapped, stuck in a wheelchair while Mom left her alone all day to go to work. The middle aged man felt bad for her so he had begun giving the girl a little wave, and she had been returning the waves and offering a smile that lit up her cherubic face.
Finally after one of his seemingly endless trips back to the car he offered a greeting through the screen window, and that was how Vito got to meet the first person in his neighborhood.
***
"Hello young lady," Vito called out to the girl on the other side of the screen.
"Hi mister."
"It's a beautiful day. How come you aren't outside enjoying the weather?" Vito said and then kidded. "You could always help me move in."
"I would if I could," she said sadly. "My name is Bella."
"My name's Vito."
"My mom would kill me if I called you by your first name," Bella answered.
"Well, my name is Vito Donato but I would like you to call me Vito when she's not around. Mr. makes me feel old."
"Okay."
"I like the name Bella," Vito said as he moved closer.
"I hate it," the girl said. "It was my grandmother's name."
"I've heard worse," Vito said as he got up closer still. "Don't want to be nosy but I see you sitting at the window all the time. Are you - you know - in a wheelchair or something?"
"Might as well be. I had an accident and had to have a knee operation last month, so I'll be okay in a couple months but my summer is ruined," Bella explained.
"That's a shame. Car accident?"
"No, it was at our class picnic and we were goofing around walking on this guardrail like it was a tightrope. This jerk pushed me and here I am."
"Horrible."
"Tell me about it, and he was my boyfriend too," Bella added.
"Some boyfriend."
"Nobody comes to see me or anything. They're all at the beach or Six Flags and I'm stuck here alone. I missed my graduation and everything."
"Oh, you're out of high school?" he asked as he looked at the girl a little differently.
Bella was wearing some sort of nightie but because she was seated a little higher than Vito on the ground all he could see was her face and her round shoulders along with her upper arms which seemed a little plump. Nothing wrong with a girl with a little meat on her bones, Vito mused to himself.
"So you have a cast on or something?" Vito asked, and after the girl nodded she started to stand up.
"You don't have to bother. Don't hurt yourself," he said.
"I have to get up every once in a while anyway," Bella said as she struggled to her feet, and while her intent was to show him the contraption that covered her knee the man's eyes were fixed on the nightie.
The drab ivory nightgown went down almost to her cast but the sharp eyed construction worker's gaze was fixed on the very dark shadow visible through the satin. He forced himself to look at the cast and told the girl the thing was probably a pain but was nothing like the things they used back when he was a kid and broke his arm, and when she sat back down he was treated to an image of what seemed to be nice full breasts with large nipples poking into the satin.
"Look Bella, if you ever need anything - like at the store? Let me know. This vacation time I'm taking ends this Friday and I work 7 to 5 weekdays, but other than that..."
"Thanks. I'm okay and I'm eating too much already," Bella complained. "Nothing else to do because TV sucks. That's why I've been watching you move stuff. Better than reruns."
"I don't know about that," Vito laughed.
"Well I think so. You're so strong, you look like Hercules especially when you wear that wife-beater."
"Really?"
"Yeah," she giggled with a hint of embarrassment. "You're so hairy too. Even your back is hairy."
"Don't remind me."
"I think it's cool," Bella disagreed. "Maybe because I'm hairy too."
"You are? You have a hairy back?" Vito asked with a grin.
"No, but you know," Bella mumbled. "I got kidded in the locker room when we changed at gym all the time."
"No reason to be ashamed of being a woman, but then again I'm an old guy who grew up in a different era. I've always been fond of furry girls."
"You don't look that old," Bella countered.
"54."
"Really? You're in great shape. Way better than my Dad."
"I've seen your mother I think but not your Dad."
"They divorced so he only comes by when he has to and he doesn't have to all that often I guess."
"Sorry about that. Well, I better get back to work."
"I'll be watching, Vito," Bella assured him.
***
Vito had just stepped out of the shower and was reaching for the towel when he glanced next door and saw Bella at the window already. The construction worker had spent a lot of time thinking about the plump little lady last night as the image of those fat nipples poking at the satin and what seemed like a incredibly lush bush between her legs looming under the nightie.
The middle aged mused that he just wasn't made for these times, and he much preferred the girls of his era and before who were not slaves to the razor or felt the need to artificially add curves to their bodies, because he loved the variety of shapes that women came in. Vito was especially appalled the way pubic hair had gone out of style, and he recalled during some of his dalliances that would eventually cost him his marriage that many of the younger ladies he favored not only had done extensive gardening down there which left little more than a strip of fur, and one even ad removed all of what the had considered offensive hair.
Vito still recalled looking at the smooth mound in horror because it made the young woman look juvenile, and while he made it through that evening he never called her back. Different strokes for different folks was how Vito remembered Sly Stone signing it, but while that was fine for some folks, that trend left him cold.
