chapter 2

She was wearing tight Levises and an expensive, colorful T-shirt. She has a shoe stand. However, her immediate impression was of someone who had dressed in a hurry and then fell asleep in her clothes.

Marilyn is about 5 feet tall and thin except for her full breasts. She stretched herself towards the sky; I gawked at her flat stomach and voluptuous breasts trying to slip out of her t-shirt but managed to look at the car when she brought her head back to eye level.

"I'm so glad I got out of that car," she said, looking at me and pushing her large sunglasses into her disheveled hair. "I've lived in this car every minute for the past thirty hours, except for gas, food and pot stops, oh yeah, and a few long naps. I must look scary...and I'm a neat person too. "She was trying to smooth out a few wrinkles on her shirt.

" Listen, why don't you come and shower. If you have a bathing suit, you can swim in the pool. Or have a shower. "

" I like the idea of a swim. And you have the sun here! It's so much better than Hamilton, Ohio, it was snowing yesterday when I left. God is only yesterday, it seems forever. "She smiled at me and added, 'In a way, that was forever ago. "She frowned in a serious gesture. I'll talk later. I want to swim, I need to."

She pulled a small bag and loose clothes from the back of the car and followed me into the house. The back of the house faces a large bay and surrounds a beautiful backyard pool. I still keep heating up even though I don't use it much. Marilyn clapped her hands happily as she looked over the house and saw the swimming pool.

"I'm going to the pool. I'll be there in thirty seconds." She took her bag and I led her into the guest bedroom and bathroom. I told her she would also find a bath towel there that she could use for the pool or tub. Then she can take a bath there too.

I opened the slider in front of the tub door and stepped out onto the terrace. Thirty seconds later, a colorful blur sped past and plunged to the bottom of the cliff. A joyful cry rang out as he made contact with the cool water.

"That's great. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you,” she exclaimed happily as she emerged.

I smiled and sat down on the shallow edge and let myself sink in the water. I realized that she had taken off her Levis and shoes, but had jumped into the pool. with the same shirt she wore earlier. I also note that when she is swimming, she wears a light blue pantyhose that does little to hide her perfectly shaped butt, which sometimes sticks out above the water as she swims.

Marilyn swam several dozen laps with obvious athletic talent. His strokes are smooth and well-practiced; Its turn is also classic Olympic style. I wish I could provide a bigger pool to use his skills.

She finally stopped beside me and stood up. Her shirt hugged her plump breasts and left little to the imagination of their figure or their excitement in the cool water. She flashed me a big smile.

"You don't know what this is to me, Mr. Crawford."

"Please call me Jim. And you're welcome to swim here anytime you want. It's nice to see the pool is in use. It hasn't been used much in recent years. Marilyn. stepped out, allowing me to marvel at her gorgeous legs and how her panties concealed her bottom or cheeks. She wrapped the towel around her and said, "Let me shower and change then we can talk." She jumped into the bathroom and closed the door.

My tongue is hard and I am almost speechless. It's been years since I've seen someone this beautiful or seen so much flesh in anything other than magazines or, more recently, on the internet.

It was about six o'clock. I stood in front of the bathtub and shouted, "Do you want a glass of wine?" Red? White?" "Yes, please," she said. "White. I'll be there in two minutes."

I went into my kitchen, which also opened onto the pool patio, and opened a bottle of Sancerre, a fine wine from the Loire Valley. I also have a few other wines if she doesn't like it. I served us two glasses and made some cheese and crackers.

Marilyn appears, barefoot and from behind in her Lévis. Her pale skin was brightened by her hot shower. A girly pink turtleneck had replaced the wrinkled and now very wet T-shirt she wore in it. Her wet blonde hair was swept back and held in place by a rather wide black band. She put on some lipstick and blushed too. She was so feminine, so pretty; and my heart beats fast.

I pointed to a stool at the kitchen counter and brought him a glass of wine and an appetizer. “So tell me about Marilyn Seaburn,” I said.

She glanced sideways at me and took a sip of wine. “Oh, I like that,” she said as she took her first sip of wine. Let me tell you a little bit about my lineage. There was a long silence.

"I'm running away from home," she announced at last. "Yesterday, I was deep in my second failed marriage, and I thought it was time to go. So I did." She glanced at me to see how I got the news. I just nodded and encouraged her to continue.

"I have an eighteen-year-old daughter, Melinda, from Ohio State. She knows. She's told me for years to get up and go, but I couldn't until yesterday. J kept procrastinating. because I don't know where to go. She told me how to choose a place. I found Sarasota based on his idea. "

" How's that? "I asked.

" Mel, what do I call that, said to pick a state that I chose in Florida because of the weather and then throw a dart or something at a map of the state to pick one. city. I did that and that's how I got Sarasota. Then I realized that I knew someone who had a family there, etc. Right now, I'm having a nice glass of wine with you,” she raised her glass to me.

“So do you want to start over? "I ask. "Yes. Absolutely. I don't know where to start, 'She stopped,' and to tell you the truth, it's a bit scary but not as scary as getting married in Ohio. "

" What did you do in Ohio? Work? Education? Tell me about your resume. "

Marilyn spoke for fifteen minutes. She graduated from Ohio State about 20 years ago and has worked in a variety of marketing jobs, mostly for industrial companies. About ten years ago, she got a steady job as a furniture salesman for a small steel company. She learned computer skills and helped introduce many new systems to the company to modernize its business model.

I asked about his personal life. She got married for the first time while in college. This marriage failed after two years. At that time, she already had Mel and became a single mother who worked and raised her children. She remarried and now, seven years after that marriage, she has also abandoned that marriage.

"Chances of reconciliation?" I ask.

"No. Not now. I left, but he found me and literally took me home. I have had pain and bruising for a month, the last time six months ago. Now I really have to go underground. I wasn't even going to tell Mel where I was; I'll call him and let him know I've landed, but I won't tell him where. Doug, that's my husband's name, doesn't know Claire Williams and won't understand that I'm here any way I can think of. She reveals her story. "Oh, everyone knows that. He kept cheating on me, he was drunk. Then he was abusive too. He broke my finger about a year ago. At least, once a week. he would come home and slap me. He did it on Wednesday night and it was the straw that broke the camel's back. "She pulled up her blouse partially and showed me a large bruise on her left side; I was appalled that a man could do that to a woman to anyone. . "After that punch, I gritted my teeth and said, 'I'm leaving.' I left the next day yesterday and here I am. "

“And work? "I ask.

"I called Art Gosling, my boss, on the way down. He knew I was going to get hit once because cosmetics only hide a lot of bruises. He's seen them before. I told him. him that I had to leave and start over". He is always very supportive, and this is no exception. He said to use it as a reference and to know that I have a job with the company if I return to Ohio. I hate my friends there, but I have to.

Her tone and manner indicated that she was sad to have to leave her life behind. We paused to chat, then I offered steak for dinner. In a gesture that clearly showed her courage, Marilyn flashed a big smile: "Let me help one way or another. Yes, let's eat here."

Fifteen minutes later, I was preparing a steak dinner with all the trimmings. Marilyn just sat and watched me prepare the things I had prepared since the afternoon. “I cooked all of these for you,” she said suddenly after realizing that this was no ordinary meal for a middle-aged gentleman.

"I have an important guest from Ohio," I laugh. "Now I'm especially glad I did after hearing your story. I'm happy to help you and let you know I'm here for you."

Marilyn made me talk about her life over dinner. I can do it the first time without maudlin and without tears. She seemed to understand and sympathize with my loss less than a year ago.

After dinner, we both cleaned up quickly, then took our remaining wine and sat on the terrace to watch the last ruins of the sunset disappear. We had more fun with events and stories from our lives. We focus not on our problems or our losses, but on the happy times we spent with our family and friends. We laughed a lot; which I realize I haven't done too much in a few years.

When I ran out of wine, I offered him some Grand Marnier or some other liqueur. She took the sweet orange liquid flame in a small glass from me a moment later. I had Kahluah. We sipped and were silent, just enjoying the nighttime sounds of the neighborhood, the stars, and the lights reflecting off the bay.

Suddenly, Marilyn said, "Oh, my God. I was so happy and I suspended my welcome. I had to leave." She got up and started packing her things.

"Where are you going?" I asked without getting up.

"Oh, I'll find a room nearby and see you tomorrow."

I met his worried look and raised my hand. "You were going to sleep in your car somewhere, weren't you?"

She nodded slowly and looked like a child stuck in a cookie jar. "Yeah, but that won't be a problem for me. I've done that a lot."

"Well, that's a bit of a problem for me," I said. She looks confused. "See, I promised myself I would do anything to get you out of my way. I also have this very empty living room that hasn't been used in a long time. I need someone there for a while. . and bring it back to life. So you see, if you stay, you'll help me and make me feel that I've made a promise to myself to the universe

She just doesn't seem to be. I'm not sure if I should accept it or not.

I tried to reinforce the point and make her feel more secure if that was her problem: "I'll be on this side of the house. You'll have your own room, bathroom and phone, even the door can check with your daughter if you want to try it for a night or two if you find a place near them you can move out otherwise please accept the invitation of I stay as long as it takes until you wake up."

I stopped, then asked him, "How much money do you have?"

She hesitated, then replied in a low voice, "About two hundred dollars."

I said, "Look, save this for a rainy day or part of your job search. If you stay here, it's free for room and board. No conditions, no obligations. Just pay for it someday. "