A Summer Love

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Anjelica

Is life our choice, chance or merely just a coincidence? I dedicate this story to all those who love, want to be loved and cherish the idea that love never ends and is always a beginning as in the creation of life.

*****

It was a beautiful summer night in Santa Monica, California. The air was clear, a vibrant turquoise blue and it was approaching dusk with the city’s lights starting to appear as lit stars. The sun was starting to set, the cool evening breezes were beginning to blow through the warm and clammy air of a few hours earlier.

I was thinking about whether I should go sit outside and relax or get a few things done before darkness appeared.

Then I thought I heard someone outside my patio call my name. “Vicky, are you there? I’m home. Come sit on the patio with me and bring me a drink.” I thought it was the voice of John, my husband and then I realized it was just my imagination. I pinched myself and reminded myself that I shouldn’t imagine things. I looked through the window and no one was there. It was probably just my imagination again.

As I looked out the window to distinguish who was speaking to me, I was in fact alone. Next I noticed this van pull up along the avenue as it parked rather quickly and subsequently stopped. There was a young couple; they came into sight sitting together in the front seat of the vehicle. The couple appeared to be youthful, probably in their early twenties without a care in the world.

The young female had long dark brown hair and was rather petite. The young man was a bit husky with dark brown hair, too. They seemed happy together laughing and giggling but they didn’t exchange too many words as they sat together gazing in each other’s young lustful eyes.

It was within seconds still within broad daylight that the couple started to grope each other and fumble about the van. There was a tad of a wrestling match which was only adolescent, free and harmless shameless love.

I tried to remember what those feelings were like. I tried to remember the feeling of being young when life was comfortable and simple and before life got complicated and obligated. I missed those times, those moments, those younger years.

The young man gently kissed the girl. I presumed that she was probably his girlfriend.

As she gently wrapped her well-manicured hands around his neck as they embraced each other softly and kindheartedly. She was laughing as he tried to grab her in further places and I could tell they were trying to undress each other from the waist down in the front seat of the van. He was trying to put his hand down her pants and she was teasingly trying to unzip his trousers.

The couple seemed to quibble a bit as the young girl kept teasing the fellow and at last began unzipping his pants. He, in turn, had her pant pulled down as she wiggled out of them partially with his hand now down her panties probing her without hesitation.

I was still reminiscing subconsciously about my own life when I was with my in high school boyfriend and also in college when I was fighting off young men routinely to preserve my Catholic virginity.

The two of them continued kissing and laughing nervously exuding desire and innocent fondness towards each other. The young fellow wasn’t getting overly aggressive and although it was still in plain daylight, the couple was oblivious and unmindful of the world around them.

As I continued to watch them outside my kitchen window and over my patio I kept washing dishes even as I was getting a bit turned on with my mind wondering about sex. My shorts under my apron were getting damp and moist.

Others were walking the avenue passing the van obliviously, instead watching the planes as they took off and landed at Santa Monica Airport. The airport activity kept bustling and the sound of the planes was only background noise as they landed and took off going to all parts of the world. No one else seemed to notice the activity I was now mesmerized with viewing.

I wondered how far the couple would get with each other. I was beginning to get self-conscious that maybe they could see me watching them as I began to scamper about cleaning the kitchen but still glancing outside gapingly to sneak a peek.

The sun was going down little by little. I had at least one lamp on as I stood in the shadows lurking. I was sure the young couple and I caught each others glances a few times whether knowingly or not. I was sure I was watching them and not the other way around. They were busy blurry-eyed and loving each other.

As the young couple chatted and laughed and groped each other some more, they began to squirm around a bit. I was sure the young fellow would get the young gal in the back of the van before the hour finished.

I imagined the young couple’s conversation and perhaps the gal’s reluctance to go any further as the young fellow kept trying to kiss her and she kept squirming. She was obviously still giving him a hand job and she esenyurt escort loved every moment of his periodic persistence.

I was getting wetter just imagining myself young again when passion was prevalent, readily available but usually unanticipated. I was remembering as a young girl fighting off young boys habitually when they tried to get fresh on dates by taking friendliness to the next step.

The couple glanced my way again but I was sure it was unplanned and inadvertent in their moment of passion and lust. I moved away from the window again and then the next time I looked outside they were no longer in the front seat of the van.

*****

It had been two years since my husband John passed away. I missed him intensely. He was a good man but our age differences were an issue from the very moment we met because John was 20 years older than I was. I remember him first asking me if I could live without him as he aged and I was still young. I didn’t know the day would come so soon but John’s death was sudden and unexpected. He was only 57 when he died and I was a widow at 37. John’s life was taken when prostate cancer spread fast – it wasn’t caught early enough, the doctors told us a few months before John passed. I was still a young woman at 39. I always knew the day would come when John would leave me and I would be alone but the years we had together were worth it. At least that’s what I kept telling myself.

John and I never had children. I regretted the fact at this moment as I watched this young couple outside my window. They were of an age, if I had had children with John, that they could be mine.

As I watched then, I felt as warm and balmy all over again. It had been years since I felt the gentle and loving touch of affection the young couple displayed. Lovemaking with John was wonderful but we were both mature adults when we met, experienced and veteran’s at sex unlike the young couple who were still experimenting and finding out what sex was all about.

I regressed and thought back to the great lovemaking John and I used to have. We were just always in sync it seemed from our first sexual encounter. John had plenty of women before me and I had a few men myself, but we could just turn each other on by looking at each other and the rest just fell in place until we were worn out, satisfied and nevertheless still wanting more. But, that was over now. I hadn’t been with anyone since John died and I really didn’t have the desire to start ‘dating’ again.

John and I never wondered what being with someone else would be like. Yes, I was younger and John was lucky but our ages were never a noticeable difference to others. We loved each other. I didn’t need security. I had a trust fund from the time I was twelve. John was wealthy and we did the things we wanted. We didn’t need security financially or emotionally. We did what we wanted. We always wanted to be with each other although we were only married seven years. Our unity ended too soon. Too early. We loved each other, it never started with an ending, nor had an ending because of the beginning.

I continued to speculate and daydream, wondering how long the young couple perhaps knew each other. I wondered if they were married and maybe had children with a babysitter at home as they grabbed a few hours alone together. I wondered if they just met and went for a drive and got distracted. I wondered and conjectured what their lives were like, maybe they were just college students.

As I looked up the couple was gone. I could see that they had climbed over to the back end of the van. So the young man’s plan had finally worked. The back windows were tinted and now I couldn’t see anyone except for some shadows and a little movement as they embraced each other lying down in the back of the van. I was sure they were beginning to make love from my view of the silhouettes I could see through the windows that were steaming up.

I finished cleaning the kitchen and changed clothes quickly. I got dressed to run my errands and I thought I would spy on the young couple a bit more if I drove up closer in my car and maybe take a turn the opposite way from where I going to see what they were up to.

What was wrong with me? Vicky, you’re a grown woman. What exactly is missing in your life that you’re so intrigued by a young groping couple outside your window?

I was acting like an older horny woman who needed sex and needed it badly or did I just want love again, as John and I shared?

I was going to run to the post office and then to the market to get a bottle of wine. A bottle of wine seemed to be my best friend these days. I reminded myself that I had to break this pattern of loneliness and self-comforting and occupy my lonely evenings with something other than self-pity and liquor.

However, it was a shitty day, one of many shitty days recently. Mostly, it was another ghastly day with the attorneys. My finances etiler escort were up in the air because of John’s unexpected death and the probate estate wasn’t closing fast enough. I was the only heir but the attorneys didn’t care how much I needed to settle my financial affairs as they kept sending me gigantic bills each month. The creditors were all complaining and the legal fees kept climbing radically higher and higher. I wondered if I could ever escape all my debts that John had left to me.

I locked up the house and my little tan Pekinese, Cheerios, sneaked out the door with me quickly. I let him go out with me and without his leash. I was cheating him from his walks lately and he let me know it. After all, he was lonely, too. He missed John immensely and now it was just Cheerios and me alone with each other.

Cheerios was getting old and was hopping on his three good legs. I looked at him and gave him a big hug and said, “Okay, baby cakes, let’s go,” as he limped along side me with his beaming cheerful eyes, happy that I was finally letting him out of the house.

As I drove out of the driveway of my home, I took another peak at the young couple still groping each other in the back of the van, lying together and wresting with each other. The activity seemed more like making love now. I tried not to look but I couldn’t help but stare a bit and wonder languidly. The rest of the world was still shut to them and they were just going about their personal business without a care in the world.

As I drove away forgetting about them, I glared down the streets. The evening gave the impression that couples were together everywhere. Both young and old, they held hands and were enjoying life up and down the boardwalk. Everyone was enjoying life except me, it seemed. Everyone was in pairs except me and I began to feel sorry for myself once again which seemed a daily happening these days.

I was driving my new black BMW that I bought a few months ago to cheer myself up but that didn’t even make me feel better at the moment. Neither did the vacation to the French Riviera last month, although I wished I could escape back there right now.

I let Cheerios run into the post office and he cheerfully obliged as I let him out without his leash. It was after closing hours so I thought it would be okay and he knew he was getting away with mischief being the cute little doggie he was.

I opened my post office box and immediately saw yet another bill from the attorneys. I was beside myself at one more ridiculous and inflated bill. Now, for sure, I would be guzzling down the wine tonight. I tried to take a deep breath and remember that this would all be over soon – or so I hoped.

These lawyers. These awful unlawful lawyers. I hated them. I thought there should be a law just for awful lawyers to take accountability to someone. The judges were all lawyers and there were few checks and balances in this legal system of ours. The attorney just ran up the hours doing very little for a colossal fee. They did what they pleased without justifying their actions to anyone. They could get away with it and knew it, running to court as they pleased to postpone or whatever and then just sending their clients a bill. At $295 an hour, it was highway robbery and yet legal.

John and I weren’t hurting financially when he was alive. But, we didn’t expect his life to end so quickly either. After all, both of us were still young when he got ill. We hadn’t prepared properly. John’s being only 57 when he died – it just wasn’t fair. He looked much younger than his age and it was so sad to see a fit and youthful looking man lying in a casket at the funeral.

Although, I was only 39 now, I felt like an aged widow as I glanced at myself in the window. People at all stages of their lives embark on new horizons but I thought I was having more difficulty than most. People stay single, or get divorced, or are widowed everyday. But not me. It wasn’t what I planned. So soon, so early before I was even 40. Now, here I was a widow, trying to get on with a new life and just survive the memories of the old.

I was still very attractive. Red hair, tall, erect tits that were not sagging yet, long legs – but I wasn’t feeling very attractive at the moment. I really didn’t even notice if a man did look my way anymore.

It was frustrating not to know where I stood financially anymore. I shouldn’t have bought my BMW or traveled until everything was settled. What if I didn’t have enough to keep paying the mortgages on the house? I just didn’t want to lose what I had, especially the house. But these attorney bills were killing me. My lifestyle wasn’t cheap living in a beach house in the heart of the city, driving a nice car and still not employed, but instead living as a wealthy housewife whose husband was still supporting her.

As I returned home and drove back down my street going into my driveway, I saw that the couple in the fatih escort van had just turned on the motor of their vehicle. I could see their brake lights beam up. “Done,” I thought. Done with sex with the whole world moving around them and not giving anyone else a thought. I wanted to disappear and feel the same euphoric way.

I immediately turned on the television to have some noise in the house. The quiet drove me nuts these days. Cheerios wanted dinner and he was giving me his pleading, yet thankful eyes for letting him run out with me on my errands.

As I looked at what was on the television, it was the New Bachelorette again. I still hadn’t gotten enough of the young love of Dehanna and Joey but one more sequel was a bit too much… Then I relaxed and began to watch it. Oh, to be young again.

I just didn’t want to do anything after I got home. I was feeling brain-dead. I had one more glass of wine and turned off the TV when the New Bachelorette was finished. Everyone is in love but me, I thought to myself. Everyone but me.

I wasn’t old but I wasn’t that young either. There had to be a life out there for me especially if I quit feeling sorry for myself, dwelling on the past and remembering John as if he was here yesterday. He was gone. Gone forever. I missed him and I would always love him. He was my first and only husband and I loved him immeasurably. I would always be “Mrs. John Adams.”

*****

My friend Sally called a moment later as I was getting ready for bed. Sally and I had known each other for years and she was 13 years older than me. She used to drag me out with her when I was in my twenties and she in her forties. We were both single then and out looking for husbands – especially Sally. I didn’t meet John until years later. When Sally had met Tom, he had five kids with still a young one still at home. I was surprised when Sally became a stepmother, never having any kids of her own. We still joke about how she had a recipe for a hard-boiled egg. Tom had to teach her how to cook and she still isn’t the greatest cook today, but she goes through the motions.

These days, Sally was getting on my nerves. You must get on with your life, Vicky. You’re a young woman. Jump on the horse again. Have a little fun.

What did Sally know? She still had a husband who was alive. She had five stepchildren.

Sally kept nagging me to go out on a date with Tom’s friend, Ron. Ron was supposedly a professor and that frightened me. A professor. What would I want with a professor?

Of course, both Sally and Tom were professors. I knew the personalities of educators especially K-12, and it wasn’t appealing to me to date a teacher. Well, maybe a professor would be different because most of them had other jobs during the day if they were not tenured at a University like Sally and Tom.

Some of these thoughts went back to when I used to be a teacher – before I met John. When I first met Sally, we taught high school together. Sally and I became friends and I met Tom one night when we were out bar hopping. Sally was 42 then and I was in my twenties when she married. Tom was 47 and twice divorced.

Sally had no right acting like I didn’t have a life anymore. I was a widow now and I needed to mourn. And when the day comes, I mimicked to myself, and Sally needs my support, I’ll think of the present day grudgingly.

As I continued speaking to Sally, I was half listening. “Saturday night, OKAY, I’ll go out with Ron Saturday night. Have Ron call me and now leave me alone, Sally!” Oh, my goodness, I agreed to go out on a date. The wine was already starting to take effect and I had lost my inhibitions and willpower in combating Sally’s persistence. It was just easier to give in to her but I knew I would regret it in the morning.

“Great, you’ll love him Vicky. He may not be John, but it will get you out. I’ll give him your telephone number!”

Ron called a few times. I was bored with the conversations but he seemed like a nice enough guy. He was divorced twice with three children and told me he wanted to remarry again. REMARRY? What kind of man admits to wanting to get married especially at the beginning of a relationship or before the first date? YUCK!

That Saturday night, I agreed to go out on a date with Ron. He was probably a nice enough guy although I was determined not to give him a chance. Then, it turned out that he wasn’t a professor or a trainer as he had said over the phone originally. He was a high school teacher. I hoped he wouldn’t act like one of his students like other male high school teachers I had known. I had nothing against teachers. Just some of them never seemed to experience the real world, just rules, bells and discipline. Both men and women.

Going out with Ron was the first date I had gone on since John died. I wasn’t ready to start dating again and the poor guy wouldn’t have a chance regardless but I was still nervous. I agreed to meet him at the house. Since he was a friend of Sally’s and Tom’s, I thought he would be safe enough.

I went to Nordstrom’s the day before and bought a new outfit. I didn’t own any dating clothes. I didn’t know what women were even wearing anymore on dates. I had some dresses from when John and I would go out to business dinners but I didn’t’ have any casual dating clothes.

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