Newport, New York 1972 was just as sleepy a little town as it is today. Despite the simple rural setting, like any other town there were countless stories going on behind closed doors. This was one of them.
***
"You look lovely tonight, Mrs. B." Kenny said as he walked into the kitchen of his neighbor, closing the door behind him, and as the woman who had let him in rolled her eyes, the young man smiled and followed her over to the sink.
"Your Eddie Haskell act again?" Rose Blakeley asked with a smile as she took the small paper bag from her teenage neighbor and set it down next to the sink. "And what did your mother send you over with now?"
"Tomatoes," Kenny replied as he watched Rose take the two mason jars out of the bag and set them on the counter before folding the bag neatly and putting it in the drawer.
Rose wondered whether Mrs. Lansing was actually sending things over to her, or even if her neighbor across the way had any idea that so much of her canning efforts ended up in her cupboards. The Lansing family had always been good neighbors and had been especially considerate after her husband had left her three years ago, but Rose couldn't help but wonder if they knew what their youngest son was up to.
"Well, I guess I can find space for these," Rose said as she opened the door of the kitchen cabinet and looked at the cans and jars that nearly filled the cupboard.
Kenny watched his neighbor intently as she moved things around. Rose was wearing a faded red and white checkered sleeveless top, with the armholes so baggy that he could have even seen the sides of her breasts had Rose not been wearing a bra, like always.
Rose's arms were still carrying a bit of the tan that she had gotten over the summer, and as the middle-aged woman reached up Kenny saw the pale color of her skin when the blouse slid further up.
"Did I ever tell you that you have beautiful arms?" Kenny said as he stared at the woman who had to be - what - close to fifty, and marvelled at how well-toned and shapely those supple limbs of hers were.
"Yes, you have Kenny," Rose said with an amused expression. "Just about every week."
"Is that why you always wear sleeveless blouses when I come over?"
"Do I?" Rose said.
"Every Sunday," Kenny confirmed as he watched Rose brush a wayward hair from her forehead as she craned her neck upward to see the top shelf.
The paleness of the underside of Rose's arm contrasted nicely with the darker outer portion, and as Rose posed there for Kenny his eyes went to Rose's armpit and the coating of peach fuzz that covered the gentle recess of her underarm.
"I didn't realize that," Rose said, although that wasn't exactly true.
"Do you shave your underarms Sunday nights or Monday mornings?" Kenny asked, enjoying the flustered look that Rose got when he would come out with something like that.
"That's rather personal, don't you think?" Rose said as she finally lowered her arm. "Where do you come up with some of this stuff?"
"I dunno. I guess I just say what I think," Kenny offered. "You shouldn't shave them at all."
"Oh, that would really go over well at work," Rose answered.
"Winter's coming," Kenny said. "You'll be all covered up and nobody would know. That's what my Mom does. She doesn't shave all winter. I think it's my old man's idea. He likes them European women. You ought to think about it. You would look really sexy."
"I don't think so," Rose replied. "Guess you'll have to be content with looking at your Mom."
"My Mom?" Kenny said, making a face. "I don't want to look at my mother. At least not the way I look at you."
Rose felt a shiver go down her spine as she went back to making room in the overcrowded cupboard. It was a game that they played, and Rose didn't know why she went along with it. Loneliness, perhaps. Oh, she knew that the kid was just flirting and teasing her, just like she often did with him.
Like the game they played sometimes at night. Kenny's bedroom was upstairs in the house across the way, about fifty yards west of her house. Rose's bedroom faced that way, and they had begun to play out this ritual on occasion.
Rose would leave the curtains open as she got ready for bed, undressing slowly on those nights when she would see Kenny up in his window, looking at her. Kenny used to be wearing only underwear or pajama bottoms, but now he had begun to wear nothing at all.
To Rose's shame, she had begun to look up towards Kenny, but the combination of her less-than-perfect eyesight, the distance between the two houses, and the fact that the outside of Kenny's bedroom window wasn't very clean made it impossible for Rose to see much.
Could Kenny see? Rose often wondered that. Maybe that was why she kept her bedroom window spotless. Since she was on the ground floor, that was easier to do than if it was on the second floor, like Kenny was.
She wanted Kenny to see, inwardly thrilled that a young guy like him would even want to look at a tired old woman like her, even if it was probably just out of boredom. Not much for kids to do around Newport, Rose mused. That was why her two children had moved along as soon as they could - that, and the fact that their father was a drunk and a wife beater, Rose knew.
So Rose kept playing the game, pretending that she was unaware of her young neighbor's voyeuristic ways, and let him look up to a point. When Rose would take off her bra, she would never be facing the window. That wasn't a tease on her part, but more of embarassment because of the way her breasts looked without the harness.
Never much to begin with, Rose was well aware and had been reminded of many times over the years by her ex, her small breasts were no longer perky but sagged noticeably, like much of the rest of her, Rose admitted to herself. No sense ruining it for the kid, Rose had concluded, so she let him use his imagination when her bra came off and she would turn out the light.
"What?" Rose said, suddenly aware that Kenny had been talking to her while she was deep in thought. "I'm sorry."
"I said that if you wanted me too, I could shave you. Your armpits and legs, I mean," Kenny repeated, the color in his cheeks rising. "Men do that to their lovers a lot. I've read about it in books."
"Oh really?" Rose laughed. "And what book might that have been in?"
"I forgot the name of it," Kenny mumbled. "I found it in the attic with a bunch of other stuff my old man thought he had hidden."
"Is that so?"
"Yeah," Kenny replied. "In the book the man gave the woman a bath, and then he shaved her legs and underarms for her, and then they made love."
"Sounds like one heck of a book, but I don't know if a kid should be reading that stuff," Rose answered, putting the last jar away and closing the cabinet.
"I'm not a kid Mrs. B.," Kenny said with a trace of irritation in his voice. "I got my draft card last month."
"That's right," Rose said. "I forget that you're only two years younger than Henry. Time flies."
