(This is a fictional story.)
My name is Sean. And this is more of a confession, rather than a story. Something happened to me with a very special lady. Because of her position in the community as the local women's club civic leader, dutiful churchgoing housewife, and us living in a small town (named Troy) things could get ugly if her husband, my girlfriend, and the community found out. I gotta tell someone though. So, it might as well be a perfect stranger...
I awoke from my peaceful slumber to the irritating ring of my cheap telephone. My head was spinning and for a second I didn't know where I was until I saw my collection of beer bottles neatly lined upon my dresser. They were remnants of a period when my only worries were getting to class in time for an exam. Fumbling around in a stupor, I felt the phone's cold plastic in my grip and brought it to my tired head. I managed to answer in a low, gravelly voice.
"Hey Sean, this is Helen," she said in her Southern drawl, "Were you asleep?"
"Naw. I was just about to get up. What's going on?" I replied drowsily.
Looking at my clock, I discovered it was already past ten. Saturday is my "sleep-in" day and I try not to get out of bed before eleven. I figured Helen must've really needed something because she knew my routine.
"Well, I hate to bother you, but I wanted to ask you if I could use your truck to haul off a bunch of tree limbs that fell in the backyard?" By the tone of her voice I could tell that she was really hoping I would offer to do the job for her. Her husband (Roger) was gone on one of his week-long business trips and took his number one sales agent with him; my girlfriend Toby.
"I tell you what, Helen. I'll come get those branches and drop 'em off at the shed. Larry (my friend/partner) is burning some brush on Monday. Just gimme about thirty minutes," I said as I slid from the bed and stood on my feet. I stretched like a bear coming out of hibernation.
Since I do contract landscaping, I'm pretty much at home most of the time. By home, I mean the small town we live in, Troy. My buddy and I maintain landscapes for a number of businesses, residences, and the local golf course here. We're very busy and make a good living out of it. Being twenty-eight and owning forty-nine percent of a business is not too bad for a guy like me. It keeps me in shape, money in pocket, and I get a vehicle I can claim on my taxes; The reason why Helen called.
"You're such a sweetheart, Sean. For your trouble I'll make lunch. How's that sound?"
Helen is a damn good cook. It's understandable how her husband has gotten kinda large with that woman stuffing his belly with good home cooking. I always thought if she and Martha Stewart got into a cooking match, there'd be much bloodshed. I know Helen would win. The woman can bake the best pies from scratch in no time flat! Her cherry one's are awesome.
"Sounds like you have a deal. I'll be over in a sec'," I said with a grin.
"Talk to ya later!" Helen said as she ended the call.
I hung up as well and went straight to the shower to clean off. Afterwards, I threw on some shorts, an old tee shirt, and my "lucky" cap. After lacing up my work boots, I grabbed my keys and went outside to fire up the truck.
Toby had known Roger and Helen Evans many years before she met me. She grew up with their daughter Jennifer and they considered Toby as good as another daughter. Roger owns a car dealership and is a "mentor" for Toby. After meeting Toby at a local dance, we hit it off. It wasn't long after that she and I started dating. She's always considered the Evans' as her parents instead of the duds that really brought her into this world. That's another story for another time.
I liked the Evans' when I first met them. I didn't hit it off with Roger at first. I think he thought I was some kind of loser or something. I've gained his respect after demonstrating I'm a hard worker and able to make it on my own. Helen was a different story. Since she's such a nice and accepting person anyway, there was a connection.
She and I are both from the same suburb of Dallas. We even share the same middle-school. GO REBELS! She's twenty four years older than I am, so we never ran into each other. It turned out she knew my aunt in school. It's a small world isn't it?
Helen's the type of person who would go mountain climbing after she got all of her things done. Helen is a very neat person with an excellent eye for decorating. Her house looks really cool with all the things that she picks up here and there. She could turn an old tire into a masterpiece. She's also a very affectionate, kind, and thoughtful person. I wish Toby would take some lessons from her.
As nice as she is she's intelligent too. She reads lots of books and can remember all kinds of details as well. She has a wicked sense of humor on top of that. It's fun to make her laugh because she has a "different" kind of laugh that's funny to hear. Because, I think so much of her it doesn't bother me to get up a little early and help her with a chore. Especially if food is on the line.
I pulled my pick-up into the circular driveway of the Evans' house. Their house is a small mansion compared to the other houses in town. It was a two story, light-grey colored brick home sitting on the middle of five acres of property. Etched glass, trimmed bushes, and a perfectly manicured lawn gives this house distinction and class. I'll take credit for the lawn.
I rapped the large, shiny brass doorknocker to signal my arrival. Through the glass I saw a figure approaching the door. When the solid oak portal swung open Helen greeted me with a smile and motioned for me to come inside.
Helen looked good when she answered the door. Her lightly golden cropped hair was pulled neatly back with a white headband allowing her aqua colored eyes and luscious pink lips to shine. She wore a lemon colored sleeveless shirt which stretched nicely across her chest leaving nothing to the imagination of how large and shapely her breasts are. Her capri pants were the vibrant white of a virgin's wedding dress. I noticed that they had a zipper running down the left side about halfway down the thigh. She was barefoot to show off her immaculately crafted French salon toenails which matched her fingers. She has a natural honey brown skin color that looks darker when she wears light colors. The amazing thing is she was "slumming it" this day.
