Another Springtime Ch. 01

Before leaving she wanted a moment in the bathroom with the motel comb, and we emerged into the early evening's fading daylight for a short walk over to the village. It seemed perhaps too much to take her hand, though I wanted to very much. She was quiet at first, but opened up a little to my comments about the pleasant evening and the green trees and the saltiness in the moist evening air. Yes, she said, she could smell the salt, and asked what that was, and seemed delighted that we were so close to the ocean. The maritime air was cooler and took the heat off the day, and her light blouse was too little to keep her warm. I had been wearing the Pendleton over a white dress shirt and when she shivered I slipped out of it and draped it over her shoulders and gathered it in front of her. It was rewarding to see a very delightful smile of appreciation replace the tension in her features, but she was very shy.

The next several hours were marvelous.

We ate at the Ram, a family oriented sandwich shop in the Village and sports-bar and a hangout for the university crowd, and she seemed to relax among the families and students and the sometimes boisterous atmosphere put her at ease. She was very observant and was full of questions. She wanted me to explain everything on the menu and was anxious to taste a real American hamburger. I mentioned as how there were an infinite number of variations, most all of them delicious.

She was delighted with the shops and found several things that sparked her creativity. It was clear in her choices that she had an eye for fine things and was conservative in her fashion choices, but also that she was practical enough in her present situation that she was concerned about money. I thanked her for her concern but assured her that she need have no worry; to use good judgment and relax. We wandered from one to another, and back again, and I realized that in her manner it was clear that she didn't want me to leave her. She kept asking if we could go here or there, or back to that other shop. Then, quite casually, as we left one shop for another I reached for her hand and she extended hers and we strolled hand in hand down the promenade. She discussed one combination of outfits after another with me, made some very clever and expert selections, including a pair of soft leather slippers for daily wear.

We passed by the foundations shop and she could not even look. I sensed in her comportment a real struggle within her. She could not bear for me to go in with her, yet was too anxious to leave my side. From earlier experience with the young girl who had been my wife for many years I knew there was nothing for me to do but be patient and respectful... and silent.

However, at one point she did address me by my first name. Many Americans will think this strange, but I was aware enough of her circumstances to pick up on the change. In a very real sense, in her somewhat more structured upbringing, her graduation from school was a transition from child to adult. Therefore, her experience as a recognized adult in the world was very brief. At this early point she regarded me as an older man, I could tell, and thus not sure whether she was considered an adult or a child to be tended. At dinner she had asked about my name, and I told her the Dace was a species of fish, and briefly something of my navy time, and how that name came to be during my time in submarines, which the Navy named after fish. I made little of it, but she was silent for a time, unsure, I think, what to make of me. She seemed at ease when I invited her to call me that, but when later she actually did it was a big jump for her and a joy for me to hear her talk more openly with me.

In one of the several shops she decided on, for the present, a turtleneck cable-knit pullover over a light linen blouse, and a nicely fitted leather jacket as protection against the cool. She stepped from the dressing room shyly, looked at me with a twinkle in her eye as the lady helping her snipped away the tags. I smiled and nodded my approval. Her figure was extraordinary, her full breasts simply magnificent, and her smile radiant and sparkling. She had my full attention. That was the extent of her selections there and she stood demurely by my side at the register. There was no mistaking it. She had a sense of quality about her; something quite special and almost indescribable. It was like royalty – thought there was no hint of vanity or pretense about her. She was really quite remarkable!

She was a most delightful companion. Her beautiful auburn hair was at once her crown of glory, and trailed behind her like a veil. After watching her I felt like she was not conscious of how very beautiful she was. She was reserved and shy, though when relaxed and confident in her surroundings could be quite expressive and open. She seemed not to ever use her long hair, unruly and tumbling all about her in the most alluring profusion, as a kind of image-enhancing gimmick. She seemed to be at home with it loose like that, just sweeping it from her face now and then in a simple gesture, and I thought it supremely feminine.