David Winters finished mowing the yard.
He always used an older, motorized hand-mower as part of his own "keep-fit" regimen and it was paying dividends.
At 57 years of age, he stood just over 6 feet tall and had a physique that most younger men would have been proud of.
While never claiming to be "film star" material, he was still an attractive man, with a gentle, yet unmistakably strong personality that drew people to him and without his being aware of it, made him very popular with the ladies.
He had never enjoyed working in the garden while his wife Vera was alive, but since her sudden death from a brain aneurysm two years previously, he had felt this strange connection with her whenever he mowed or raked the weeds from the flower garden she had treasured for so long.
He walked the lawn-mower back to the small barn, housed it away and looked over the yard with an approving nod.
"Vera would be pleased," he thought, then , smiling whimsically to himself added out loud: "But if she saw the inside of the house, she'd kill me."
House work was definitely not David Winters' forte.
For him it was a constant battle to try and maintain the house as scrupulously clean as Vera had done. He was always the first to admit that his efforts fell very short of her extremely high standards.
Dusting and cobwebs were his bug-bear. The kitchen sink was a regular dumping ground for cups, drinking glasses, knives and forks. He saw no point in using the dishwasher when he seldom had a "load" to warrant its use.
In the bedroom, he changed the sheets once a week and endured the horror of "laundry day" always wishing that someone would invent strong paper sheets that he could just toss into the trash whenever he needed.
Some of the members at the bowling club had suggested he should find someone either to come live with him and get free room and board in exchange for housework services or perhaps they could come in once or twice a week and make sure the place was "ship-shape and Bristol fashion". He didn't particularly like the idea of having someone live with him, initially because of his strict moral upbringing that had stayed with him through the years, but he did take the time to mull over the notion that he might be able to find someone suitable and trustworthy for a weekly clean-up session.
Several weeks passed and after one horrible, hectic day of frustration with "that stupid vacuum cleaner," "who the hell would ever think of looking up to see if the ceiling fans were clean" and two specialty wine glasses dropped and smashed to pieces in the hot water in the sink, he decided it was time to take the bull by the horns and get some help.
He called several local churches, but they didn't know of anyone who would be interested in that sort of work; he talked to a few friends and they were as helpful as the proverbial "hole in the head", then he decided to stick up a 5 x 3 index card on the local grocery store bulletin board, requesting:
"Domestic Help: Once or Twice A Week ---regular housecleaning for widower. Good wages," and he scribbled his name and address.
He thought that he would be inundated with inquiries, but three weeks passed and the phone never rang once.
He had all but given up on the idea, when one Saturday morning, as he was finishing his regular lawn-mowing, a young woman stopped at the bottom of his driveway and waited for him to come near enough for him to hear over the drone of the small engine.
"Are you Mr. Winters?" she asked very politely.
He nodded and bent down to switch off the motor. She smiled warmly as he walked towards her and she held out her hand, with his bulletin -board index card in her fingers.
"I dropped by to see if you were still looking for someone to help with the housework. I've just arrived back in town to help my mom recuperate from hip surgery and I have a few hours free each week. I can provide you with excellent references."
David couldn't help but take a few seconds to look her up and down.
She stood about 5 feet 8 inches, shortish blonde hair, certainly not a stunning beauty, but there was something particularly attractive about her whole demeanor and personality.
Although he had never been a good judge of women's ages, he put her at around 25 to 28 and indeed wasn't far wrong. Later he learned , she was 26.
"Well, I am still looking" he said and then , smiling broadly he added, "as a matter of fact, I'll be honest with you, you're the only person to reply to the ad."
She returned his smile and laughed:
"Then I guess Karma has thrown us together. You need my help and I sure could use the little extra money."
David had no idea who or what Karma was, but he suggested that they go inside and take a look at the place and give her an idea of what she was going to be required to do.
As they moved from room to room, she just silently nodded as he pointed out his failures as a housekeeper and then finally, they returned to the living room . He invited her to sit down; they discussed the wages and finalized the job description and she agreed to start the following Monday, see what she could get accomplished and if necessary she'd come back on Thursday.
David walked her to the end of the driveway where she turned and held out her hand to say goodbye. Her grip was firm for a young woman, yet there was a delicate touch to it . She smiled, released his hand and turned to walk away.
Suddenly David remembered that he hadn't even asked for her name. He called after her and reminded her of his lack of mental alertness. She laughed again and said:
"My full name is Maylena --- it's a long story ---but everyone just calls me May, like the month."
"Ok then Miss May" , David responded "I'll see you Monday."
She waved cheerfully, turned and walked away. David watched her leave, not with any sort of "dirty old man" ideas, but certainly appreciating the special beauty this young woman exuded.
After a few seconds, he shook himself out of his stupor, returned to the house and switched on the TV to watch some idiotic comedy show.
He fell asleep for about an hour, woke up with a start, wondering if he had had some sort of weird dream, but the several pages of her resume laying on the sofa cushion dispelled his doubts.
He got up from the chair, went to the kitchen to find something to eat, and suddenly found himself whistling one of the old pop tunes from the "oldies but goodies" radio station.
Monday came after what seemed to be a boringly long weekend.
At precisely 9 am , as agreed, the front doorbell rang.
David opened it and was taken aback by the vision that stood before him.
She was wearing a loose fitting blouse, with the top button undone, not enough to reveal anything sexual but enough to let him know she was certainly all woman.
A neat pair of jeans and what looked like brand new runners completed her outfit. There was an air of mysterious sexuality about her that caught his attention like an some hidden magnetism.
