As told by Marilyn, Single Female, 48
I finished reading the note for the second time, and looked up at him again. "Did you read this?"
He seemed surprised. "Oh, no, Ma'am, it was sealed by Mrs. Clarke, herself, and I delivered it the same condition."
I folded it and stuck it in my pocket. "Do you know what it says?"
He shuffled his big feet, scratched his thick brown hair. "Well, from what she told me, you two are old friends... oh, I don't mean old old, I mean like a long time."
I watched him fumble with the words, like I do in third grade class for a student who stutters.
"She said to give you that, and wait for you to tell me what's what."
Laura Clarke, my oldest friend, was a wild one, as teens, in college, always dragging me along on wild escapades with boys, then men. She stayed in Boise, Idaho, and I caught the first train to New York, looking for glamor. And she wound up having the more exciting life, even in the middle of nowhere.
She raised three kids, her husband was a successful businessman who found new life in politics, and they traveled far and wide, until he died of a heart attack at 45. She stayed strong, kept the business running, and had a wide range of suitors, according to her letters, and few phone calls.
Me? A broken early marriage, followed by brief affairs, and then I lost the energy to chase or be chased. Now in my 19th year of teaching, I was settled into quiet nights at home, and church social groups here in Long Island, New York.
And now here I was on my front porch, with a tall, lanky young man, of maybe 25, and a note of introduction from Laura.
"Well, come in, please, it's hot out here in the sun." He moved past me, maybe six feet, slim, big blue eyes behind all that hair. He removed his ball cap as he entered.
I led the way into the living room. "Can I get you something? Juice, soda?"
"If it's no trouble, water would be great, it was a bit of a walk."
I poured a large glass from the pitcher in the fridge, added a few cubes as I thought it over. Laura's note was simple, straight to the point. "This is Mick, a nice kid from Montana. He worked for me for a few months on his way east. He's a big puppy, trust-worthy, loyal, and so damn cute! He needs a place to stay and I know you thought about renting a room. He has no money, wouldn't take any from me, either. He'll get work quickly, he's a go-getter. BTW, he's an excellent lover! See you soon!"
An excellent lover? That Laura hasn't calmed down a bit! She's my age and has kids older than Mick!
I handed him the water and he drank hungrily. "So, Laura says you need some place to stay? Well, as you can see, I don't have much room," trying to let him down easily.
"Oh, no big deal! I just wanted to see Long Island! Are the Hamptons far? Lots of movie people I guess."
"Oh, they tend to work weird hours, actually. Like vampires."
He laughed freely. "Yeah, I guess so! Anyway, when Mrs. Clarke said she had a friend, I was curious, because she's so nice, and let me work for her, even put me up in her apartment over the barn! I was just curious, you know, to see you."
"Oh? Am I what you expected?" This kid had a way about him, innocence and honesty. It was hard not to like him.
"Well, no, not really. Her old pictures always seemed too far away. I couldn't see you clearly. I didn't know you'd be as pretty as you are... is that alright to say?"
I smiled. "That's just fine, thank you for the compliment."
"You were both a lot skinnier then too."
"Okay, that's enough! You just lost all the points you scored with the first one."
He looked confused. "Huh? Skinny doesn't mean better. The exact opposite. Skinny girls need to eat something. They got no cheeks. Their faces are sucked in, like they ate a lemon."
I laughed out loud this time. "Well, I'm certainly not skinny."
"No Ma'am, not at all!" He finished his water and started to rise. "Anyway, it's a good hike back to the train station. I don't want to be stuck out here for the night."
