FINISHING UP... the year (Part 124f)
Elle and I were both in
bed when the phone rang. When that happens it usually isn’t good news.
The phone was on Elle’s side of the bed and I heard her mumble that the
call was for me. It was “Big B”. He apologized for the lateness of the
call but didn’t dwell on it. “B” was always making “deals”, especially
with his customers. The latest was that one of them, who owned a small
Christmas tree farm, had told “B” that he’d give him a few trees... free.
The only thing was that “B” had to cut them himself. As I’ve mentioned
he was a big guy, over 300 pounds, and he just couldn’t see himself
lying on the ground cutting down Christmas trees. He asked if I could go
with him to cut the trees and he’d give me one of them. In my mind free
means it costs me no money but usually something else. Elle and I hadn’t picked
out our tree and were planning on doing it on Sunday after church. I
don’t know why I said I would but I did. The last thing my half asleep
mind heard was that he’d pick me up at 7am in front of my house.
There
was a coating of snow on the ground when I walked down the driveway to
meet “B” and it was snowing quite hard. Usually, my father, the ameture
weather man, would call when a storm of any kind was pending and he
hadn’t called. I hoped that was an omen that the snow wasn’t going to
last. The farm was about a half hour away. “B” had borrowed a trailer to
haul the cut trees back and, empty, it was bouncing around behind us.
“B’s” plan was to cut four trees with one being mine. Another was for
the owner of the company he worked for along with his parents and his
best customer. By the time we arrived the trees were covered with snow.
It was certainly pretty but it didn’t make my job any easier. I had to
cut the trees by hand while lying on my side. When I’d move I’d get
another coating of snow. By the time I’d finished with three of them I
was soaking wet and I thought my arm would fall off. It took longer to
cut the last tree down than it did for the first two combined. I had to
keep reminding myself that I’d have a tree and wouldn’t be out any
money.
Because of the way my driveway was laid out “B” couldn’t
take the car and trailer up to let me off by the house. The snow had
stopped and there was about two inches of it on the ground. From the
road where “B” left me off I took a short cut climbing the hill in front
of the house. That route took me next to Celia’s house and I could see
lights on inside. I hoped, for her sake, that it was because someone was
interested in buying it. I thought that would make a nice Christmas
present for her.
As I said, I was wet and, not wanting to bring
my dirty wet clothes into the house, decided to strip on the patio just
outside the kitchen door. Even with the heat on in “B’s” car I was just
chilled to the bone and all I wanted was a nice warm shower. From the
kitchen door it was only about six or seven steps to the downstairs
bathroom that had the shower in it. I didn’t call out to Elle when I
walked in but just headed straight for the bathroom. I made the turn to
head in when out popped Sandy... in a dark blue sweatshirt and panties.
She screamed. I don’t remember what I immediately did (or said) because
she really spooked me. The next thing I remember was hearing Elle
yelling, asking what was wrong. By the time she made it down the hallway
Sandy had put her hands in front of her groin and had backed her way
into the living room. I remember Elle yelling at me asking what I was doing
home and half naked. I was standing just outside the bathroom
door. Again, I don’t remember what I said but did step into the
bathroom.
It took a minute for me to collect myself and I do
remember talking to Elle through the door explaining why I was
undressed. While I was telling her my side of the story I started
wondering just why Sandy didn’t have on regular clothes. I got Elle to
go upstairs and get me some clean, dry clothes while I showered. I was
hoping that by the time I was finished Sandy would still be there. I was
really, really curious to find out what had caused her to be half
undressed.
Naturally, by the time I reappeared Sandy was fully dressed
and standing by the kitchen counter with her coat on. I didn’t see Elle
and asked where she was. Sandy didn’t answer but pointed to the door to
the cellar. It was open a crack and when I opened it I knew immediately
why she was down there. Kaye, our youngest, was crying and Elle was
chastising the older two. I turned back to Sandy and I heard her say she
was embarrassed for what had happened. My first reaction was “for
what?” We’d scared each other and that was about it. But she wouldn’t
stop saying she was embarrassed for exposing herself like she had to me.
I sloughed it off but she continued. After hearing the same thing the third time I’d had it.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
A
bit of background here... For the longest time I couldn’t understand
why females got so uptight when a male happened to get a peek of their
underwear. With the advent of the bikini bathing suit I was even more
confused. Women were now showing more skin than ever before and other
than the fact that someone had decreed what they were wearing was a
“bathing suit” they were actually wearing nothing more than a colored bra and panty. I’d discussed
this with Elle any number of times and she wouldn’t give my argument
the time of day saying “that it's just different”, meaning the bra and panty. When
I asked her how she could declare the bikini “different” she didn’t
have an answer and would close with “it is!” I even used the example of
one of the women we’d both seen at the sailing club who had worn a light
pink bikini. I remembered seeing her the first time and actually
thought it was underwear. She agreed but wouldn’t change her position.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
I
pretty much unloaded on Sandy using the same argument I’d tried on
Elle. I’d seen her in a bikini suit (and she was very cute in it) and
told her to give me an explanation of why she felt it was an
embarrassment to be seen in her underwear and not in the bikini. I was actually surprised when
she tried to come up with a response. After a couple of tries she
shrugged her shoulders. I was about to say something when she mumbled
that her mother had told her, when she was growing up, that it wasn’t “ladylike” to have her underwear
be seen. I know I must’ve made a “face” upon hearing that. I immediately
asked her what harm had occurred when I saw her in her panties and
she’d seen my boxer shorts. I remember her standing there, leaning
against the counter, and cocking her head. After a few seconds I saw a
smile start at the corners of her mouth.
To be continued...
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