Ann came into her house, lugging bags of groceries she had picked up from the store. She had just five hours before her kids returned home from school and she had ten hours' worth of work to get done. It had been raining for three days straight and she was soaked right through to the bone. Ann didn't dare go into her attic for fear of what she might find there. She didn't want to know if the roof was leaking because even if it were, she didn't have the funds to fix it. Her divorce had been finalized just a few months earlier and her ex had left her with a house ready to fall down around her. Ann did not have the money, the energy or the inclination to repair things nor the time, the energy or the inclination to find a man to help her out. The thought of dating had barely crossed her mind since her ex had dropped the bomb that he was leaving their children and her to run off and marry his secretary. Ann had been in survival mode for the last year or so - kids, food, shelter, finances, nothing more, nothing less. She rarely saw her friends or went out, she had scaled back on most everything that they did, and she didn't have the time to worry about her looks or her clothes - her life had changed dramatically, overnight. Ann couldn't remember the last time she had spent the afternoon shopping or when she had last spent five minutes in front of a mirror. When she reflected on the way that she used to shop with her friends, have long, leisurely lunches, buying clothes and handbags and shoes simply because she liked them - well, that all seemed a lifetime ago. Ann was a different person today than she was two years ago - vastly different - not necessarily new and improved, just new. She looked down at her breasts to check - nope, she hadn't bothered to put on a bra this morning either, figuring that her rain jacket would cover any sign that she had bare breasts under her t-shirt.
Oddly enough, the ten pounds that she had fought so hard to lose with aerobics and pilates classes for years, had fallen right off of her, after David left her. She probably wouldn't have even noticed except none of her clothes fit any longer. She tended to reach for the same jeans every morning, a pair she had found in the back of her closet, some she'd worn in college. She and her kids now all wore the same t-shirts. Her hair, nine days out of ten, went back and up and into a clip before she left the house and she didn't give her looks another thought until her own reflection would stop her dead in her tracks. She would stare at herself, wondering what the hell had happened to that young, carefree girl. She was definitely a woman now, a tired, beaten-down-by-life woman. People told her that she didn't look it on the outside, but she sure as hell felt it on the inside. Her blond hair no longer had the highlights she used to time to the second for their six-week update, to make sure that her roots never showed. She no longer had the weekly manicure and pedicure, and she found it particularly ironic that her ex-husband had insisted she have the laser hair removal treatments because he so hated to feel stubble on her legs when he crawled into bed next to her. About the last time they shared a bed, her treatments were complete and she was hair-free. Ann couldn't help but wonder if Vicki (his secretary) had gone through the same process.
Quite honestly, though, she didn't miss all of the maintenance. Her new life seemed to suit her and while she had those days (and nights) of feeling like an outsider in her own neighborhood, she preferred this life to her old one. Many of her friends had simply abandoned her, it was as if she had the plague and may be contagious, some had just tired of trying to chase her down but she still had one or two she saw on a fairly regular basis - they were tried and true and had been to hell and back with her. One, in particular, Suki, was always after Ann to get back "on the circuit," and she had given Ann a day of beauty for her birthday, to encourage her - hair, nails, massage, the works. Ann hadn't used the gift certificate yet and it was probably about to expire. Ann's hair had gone back to its original color, a nice, darker blond and without all of the chemicals, it was healthier than it had been since college, probably. It was wavy and fell around her shoulders, but most days, she drew it away from her face and her blue eyes became more prominent. Between the weight loss and the darker hair, her high cheekbones had reemerged too. She knew she looked different but she wasn't sure, at all, that it was better, despite people's comments when they saw her. She figured people were just being kind because of her circumstances.
As Ann dumped the bags onto the center island in the kitchen, she heard the dripping of water but it took her a moment to realize that the water was actually pouring in from the top sill of one of the windows in the den. She couldn't believe it. Where the hell was that water actually coming from? She ran upstairs, into her bedroom, the room above the den, to see if it might be running down from there, somehow. Nothing. She was completely panicked and wasn't even sure who to call first.
Ann tried to reach her builder first. He suggested calling her plumber, John Robinson. The plumber told her that he was swamped with calls, due to all the flooding, and he wouldn't be able to get out there for at least a couple of days. He said the best he could do was to recommend a friend of his, Michael Sexton. He told her that Michael wasn't exactly a licensed plumber but he could probably handle something like this, he had refurbished a lot of old houses, that was his specialty, so he was sure he could handle her problem. He could at least help her out until a professional could get there.
"It won't hurt to call him, Ann, and he is a really great guy, to boot."
She placed the call immediately to Michael. Michael sounded very calm, cool and collected - especially compared to the panic in Ann's voice. He said he could be there within about 15 minutes. He was just in the area picking up some supplies, and he would swing by to take a look.
"Thank you," said Ann, "I am beyond grateful."
"Don't worry, Ann," said Michael, "I will take care of you."
Ann hung up the call thinking it was a bit odd that he was so presumptuous. First off, he called her by her first name and secondly, he told her that he would take care of her.
Ann stuck a bunch of pans under the leak, along with some beach towels, and took a few minutes to actually look in a mirror, apply some mascara and lipstick - remembering her mother's words, "a woman should never leave the house without a touch of mascara and some lipstick on." She realized the irony, of course, she was doing it for the first time in ages and staying in the house, but so be it - her mother would be proud. Michael Sexton, Michael Sexton - she kept going over the name in her head, for some reason the name sounded familiar but she didn't know why.
Fifteen minutes to the second, Ann's doorbell rang. It was Michael - "the greek god, also known as Michael Sexton" was the banner that should have been flashing across his forehead in large neon letters. Geez, it would have been nice if John, her plumber, had filled her in on some of the details. Michael was about 6'4", probably 210 lbs., dark curly hair, light blue eyes and olive-skinned. He was wearing a white t-shirt with blue jeans and her knees almost buckled when she opened the door. She had to grab onto the radiator that stands next to the front door. He was wearing, of all things, a yellow parka to stay dry. He looked as beautiful as she could remember anyone looking in a slicker. God, it was all just so cliched, she thought to herself. Lonely housewife, contractor. Ann didn't care, he was the quintessential fantasy handyman.
"Hi, I'm here to solve your problems," Michael said, holding out his wet hand for her to shake. He had a canvas bag of tools in his left hand.
"Oh, uh, wow, great...I mean, that is so nice to hear...really? You are going to solve all of my problems? Well, c'mon in, then!" Ann said, trying to shake his hand, trying to sound light and breezy and not speechless, and forcing herself to look away from his face and eyes and smile and body. Does it get any better than this coming in the front door? she thought to herself. I think not!
Ann stepped back out of the doorway and let Michael pass her. She actually sniffed the air after he walked past. He entered her home, looking around, surmising the place. She was surmising him, from behind- he had a perfect ass, perfect back, and perfect legs. He had the kind of curly hair that begs you to run your fingers through it - at least it was calling out to Ann, "dance your fingers in me, please." After he had checked out the floors, the walls, the furniture and the moldings of the front part of her home, he turned around and set his gaze on her. He gave her the once, twice, three time over...making Ann blush from toes to tip. She was stunned, unsure of what to say, and when he saw her all flummoxed, he smiled at her, a million dollar, all straight, white-toothed, big shit-eating grin.
Ann couldn't help but smile back - while she searched for some piece of furniture to grab hold of, again, something to sustain her weight, before her knees gave way. She was going to have to start using a walker if he stayed around much longer.
"Okay, Ann, why don't you show me where the problem is, if you would. And maybe someplace I could hang this soaking wet coat."
"Hmmmm? What? Oh, right, sure, it's right back here, near the kitchen," Ann said, taking his coat from him.
Ann walked him into the den and the water was still coming in. She was conscious of his eyes on her ass, her back, she knew that she was getting the once over as well.
Michael moved over to the window sill and Ann found that she couldn't take her eyes off of his shoulders and his back, each muscle seemed to show through his shirt as he extended and bent. She had a difficult time restraining herself, not reaching out to touch him, just to put her hands on his back as he was examining her window.
Ann realized that she had to get out of there or she was going to embarrass herself.
"I'll be in the kitchen if you need me. Do you want some coffee?"
"Maybe in a little while. I think I know the problem and I would just soon get it fixed before it gets any wetter in here." He smiled over at her as he delivered the last line.
Ann felt the blood rush to her face as she quickly turned and walked into the kitchen. Certainly he couldn't have meant THAT, she thought to herself, no one would really say that. He meant the rain water coming in, clearly, but she put her hands up to her cheeks to feel how hot they were and figured she would have to steer clear of him while he was in her house. As she hung his coat on a hook in the mud room, she smelled it. She couldn't believe she was doing it, a grown woman, sniffing the coat of a stranger but she wanted to find out if he had a scent. Definitely manly, hard to describe but every bit a man.
She opened the refrigerator door and stuck her face in the cool air, pretending as though she were searching for something. It felt good, like a slap in the face, which she desperately needed. She was reminded of that old commercial, "Thanks, I needed that!"
"I should be able to have it fixed within the hour," he yelled into her.
"You are officially my new best friend, Michael," Ann responded, a quip she might throw out here and there to friends of hers who had helped her out in the past but she shouldn't have said something like that so off-handedly to him. She needed to get out into civilization more. This was a wake-up call.
"Well, let me get this fixed first, and then we can talk about our friendship," he said.
