Connie had always been an anomaly as my wife's best friend. She usually seemed very cheerful but was actually an introvert, whereas my wife was upbeat and outgoing. Connie was sexually active at 15, but suffered emotional problems after being sexually assaulted by her cousin. She had never married and had only scattered male relationships throughout her adult life. Connie's last affair was with a married man and ended fifteen years ago. After an abusive high-school love affair and the later death of her father, Connie became the "family matriarch" for her mother and brother. My wife, Debra, on the other hand, recovered from a bad marriage to her high-school sweetheart and married me. They seemed to be emotional opposites and yet had been best friends for 45 years.
For me, Connie was a sometimes fantasy. She was modestly attractive in a "girl-next-door" ordinary sort of way; was very self sufficient and emotionally well-armored, and was a nice and nurturing kind of person, but not exactly sexy. What fueled the sometime fantasy was that she was ethically unavailable, shunned all male romantic possibilities, and seemed to treat me very cooly. 'Forbidden Fruit'? What could be more subconsciously attractive to the average male libido? When she visited us she clearly was uninterested in my presence, was polite but pleasantly ignored me, and made me feel that she resented my being there. Connie's relationship was with Debra.
Anyway, I saw so little of Connie during the twenty-five years Debra and I had been married before I retired that the fantasy was only a sometime fleeting thing. When she and Debra got together they either met somewhere to do something or Debra visited Connie at her home. Connie rarely visited our home.
Finally, because of her personal circumstances (which in later years included a terrible sister-in-law), Connie became almost obese and drifted out of my fantasies. I secretly felt sad. Connie could have made someone a terrific wife/companion. But, romantically, she divorced the world. Then, when in her late forties after she had devoted her "best years" to being the significant parent not only to her brother but also to her mother, her mother died and her brother's wife became abusive of her brother and their children.
For the past six or eight years since her mother died Connie had shown what appeared to me to be two symptoms of a manic depressive. She talked almost non-stop, rarely inviting dialogue; and from her descriptions, was what might be called an "ideal employee" - working diligently, non-stop, and doing enough work for two people. At home she always had a project going and found it difficult to relax and do nothing. For some reason these symptoms never interfered with my fantasy - then again, what the heck, it was my fantasy!
When I retired, Debra and I moved to Florida. We loved it. Soon Connie was losing weight and talking about moving to Florida. She thought she could get a transfer to one of her company's Florida facilities. I would have bet the farm that she was dreaming. But her disappointment, discomfort, and anger with the situation with her brother and his wife were a stronger motivation than I had guessed.
Lo and behold! Connie came to Florida. Since we had last seen her, she had lost most of her excess weight. For a 55 year-old she was no Barbara Eden but, on first impression, she looked pretty good - a little wide in the hips, a modestly round tummy, a reasonable waist, and perhaps B-cup "mature" breasts - on a scale of one to ten she was no better than "so so". But selected assets were attractive and - she was a long-time fantasy.
We saw Connie almost weekly for the first month she was down. Sometimes she would weekend at our place. On a couple of those weekends we all relaxed in the spa late in the evening. I was amazed at Connie's figure in her bathing suit. Her breasts were a little more generous than they had been most of her life - not voluptuous, but softly attractive. I was reminded of how comparatively long Connie's legs were. And her weight loss had redefined a reasonable waist which added definition to quite generous hips. The legs were well shaped with good calves and ankles. Her thighs were full but well formed, "comfortable" with just a little cellulite. She hadn't become "skinny" - so she still had the prominent, feminine tummy and a typical middle age derriere. She wasn't svelte but, all-in-all, Connie looked good, she was attractive ... again ... and softly comfortable with those generous hips and thighs.
Connie had managed to change her life quite a bit - pretty adventurous. She had gone on a very regimented diet program to shed 60 pounds; and then sold the house she had lived in most of her life, took leave from her job with only slender prospects for getting the transfer (that finally materialized), and moved to Florida. A recent innovation was very surprising to me - "Hellos" and "Goodbyes" were now accompanied by friendly hugs and kisses. I couldn't help but wonder what in her view of me had changed that made me "OK" for a hello/goodbye hug and kiss.
When we bought a new computer I suggested we give her our old one. She was appreciative and obviously happy - but in her subdued way. A week later she sent a thank you note written on her "new" computer which made it clear she was enjoying it.
A couple of weeks after Connie had setup her computer I found two manuals we should have given her. Debra called and told her we'd get them to her as soon as we could or Connie could get them on her next visit. (Now that she had settled into her job and re-established a relationship with a nearby uncle, she didn't visit us as often.)
I had an errand in Connie's neck-of-the-woods a week later and Debra called to see if it was convenient for us to drop the manuals off. At the last minute Debra was asked to play tennis so I went on alone. Connie was surprised when I arrived without Debra but, even without the "safety" of Debra's presence, gave me a genuine hug and kiss greeting (amazing); very sisterly, but none the less, warm and pleasant. I told her about my errand and made motions for leaving.
Her hand was still lightly on my arm. "Why don't you stay for some tea? I made some shortbread cookies last night." She genuinely seemed to want me to have tea with her.
I probably seemed hesitant because I was a little uncomfortable. To my recollection, this was the first time in the 30+ years I'd known Connie that we were on the verge of spending one-on-one time alone together - she had seemed in recent months to like to talk with me on the phone when calling Debra - but this "in-person" situation was different. "Well, ... OK ... sure. That sounds nice - I'd like some tea." I followed her into her trailer home. It smelled good. I caught the odor of baking muffins. "Mmmm, smells good in here."
"If you'd rather have bran muffins they're just out of the oven."
"I guess I'll go for a muffin." The baking of all the goodies puzzled me. "Boy! Lots of baking."
"I won't eat much of this. It was too hard to lose the pounds. It's just my turn to bring munchies to work Monday."
"Ah! That answers the question."
Shortly we were sitting in her living room with our tea. She sat in a chair and I sat on the sofa. As might be expected, our conversation was light and superficial. Her appearance wasn't fueling my fantasy - she was wearing her trademark tailored blouse with slacks and sport shoes - sort of Florida matronly. After a reasonable time I began to feel like I should be leaving and probably telegraphed the feeling in some way - perhaps body language. She promptly introduced a new subject into the conversation. Unusual - I thought she'd welcome my departure.
The new subject was her recent Mall visit and a new dress she'd bought on sale at one of the better stores. She wasn't sure if the skirt was too short. I told her that a dress from that particular store wasn't likely be inappropriately short, and besides, with her attractive legs, she'd look terrific anyway. She got a little flustered at that last remark.
I hadn't intended to make her uncomfortable and said, "Please don't let me embarrass you. Perhaps I shouldn't have said that."
"It's all right. I'm not embarrassed - just a little surprised."
I replied, "You shouldn't be - since you've trimmed down, your legs are looking terrific." Then I tried to recover with levity, "Why not bring the dress out and hold it up to you. I'll give you my expert opinion on length."
Connie surprised me with, "OK", and left the room. When she returned she was wearing a pair of medium heeled business pumps and the new dress - with tags still attached. "I thought putting it on would be better than just holding it up. Well, how about it, Mr. Expert?"
