Angies Preserves Pt. 01

At 32 I had 28 full time employees and 9 part time. The part timers being mostly college students' home for the summer. I prided myself on how diversified my employee staff was, after all that's what the narrative of the day was. I had a balanced mix of black, white and Hispanic people on the payroll, many of them former classmates. Being former classmates they also knew that after my Todd Struthers fiasco I had no time for men, especially white men.

Knowing my biological clock was ticking I began thinking about finding a husband and starting a family. I had loyal and highly qualified people working for me, I felt it would be okay to pursue motherhood. My personal secretary was a feisty chubby black girl from of all places, Philadelphia. How she ended up in our small backwater town I never understood. But she was good at her job, damn she was good, and, married to a white guy. He was one of our largest suppliers of fresh produce.

Her name is, get this, Chantell. Yeah, like that was gonna fit into the mix of small-town white America. Or so I thought. I couldn't have been more wrong. Her husband called her Charli and she was accepted everywhere she went. Not one to suffer fools or be ignored she fit into my work atmosphere with ease. Her husband was not someone you would think had married a city girl with a pound or five of extra weight. She was cute enough for sure, she's what I like to call, pudgy. Rex, her husband, couldn't be more different.

He's tall, thin and has a smile a mile wide. Easy to get along with, never a cross word, seldom a harsh word ever leaves his lips. And best of all as far as Charli was concerned, he loves her to bits. She confided in me one time that he told her if she ever became skinny he wasn't sure he could stay married to her. She said he told her that he loved every inch of her body just the way she was. With a hushed voice she leaned to me and said he liked watching her butt jiggle and bounce when they made love doggy. It was more than I wanted to hear.

Chantell informed me that she knew of a businessman who wanted to meet me. The first thing I asked is if he was black like me.

She bubbled, "Oh yes. He played in the NFL for seven years, now he owns a string of car dealerships. He owns the Ford dealership in town and the Chrysler/Jeep dealership twenty miles away. Plus five or six others throughout the state."

I was a bit confused, "Why would he want to meet a skinny virgin like me? I have no intention of being anybody's arm candy."

She interrupted, "What do you have to lose Skye? At least give the guy a chance."

Justin picked me up for our first date the following Friday. He was everything and more than Chantell had described. I found myself thinking, "could he be the one?" We had dinner at a lovely upscale restaurant and then went dancing. The place wasn't crowded but there were far more people than I was used to being around in an atmosphere outside work. He was the perfect gentleman all evening, including taking me home at a reasonable hour. He didn't try to kiss or hug me at the door. He simply said he enjoyed the evening and turned toward his car.

I watched the car drive away thinking two things. One, why didn't he try to kiss me, and two, thank God he didn't try to kiss me. I wasn't sure I was ready for that just yet. I didn't hear from him again until almost two weeks later. It was another dinner date followed by a social function of some sort that he was involved with. It was okay, at the same time I realized I was in over my head with his crowd. When I brought it up he poo-pood it away saying I was being silly.

As the weeks progressed we ended up making out a few times, mostly kissing and an occasional hand on my breast. Never under my bra, but on my breast none the less. It was also during those weeks that I came to the conclusion he was more of a workaholic than me. No matter where we were or the time of day his phone was constantly buzzing. At times he would look at the screen and not answer, other times he would excuse himself and move away. We'd been going out three months when he wanted to take me away for a weekend.

It was time to end it, "I don't think that will work Justin. First, I get the impression you want me to room with you. Second, I'm tired of playing second fiddle to that stupid phone."

He took my hand, "I can leave the phone on silent when we're together. And yes, I'd like you to be in the same room with me, but if you insist, I'll get a second room for you."

I grinned, "If I insist? Justin, you're a great guy. Polite to a fault, successful beyond belief and easy on the eyes, but we aren't meant to be. Let's end this before we create hard feelings and are no longer willing to be friends."

He was not pleased, "I've been patient all these months because I thought we had something. I'm not sure I want to just be friends."

I threw it right back at him, "And I've been patient all this time hoping that at some point I would be more important to you than your damned phone."

His abrupt answer let me know that was the last straw for him, "That phone, as you call it, is what keeps me in business. It's what allows me to take you to the best restaurants and meet important people you may not have known existed. We're done Skye."

No discussion, no maybe we can work it out, no I really like you I'll try harder, just a simple, "We're done."

As though I was someone to easily discard. That situation put me off men entirely. I wasn't interested in the male species no matter what skin color they possessed. Plunging back into the business I ignored everyone's attempts to line me up with whoever was next on the list. It was the company Christmas party that put a dent in my armor. I always made a big deal of the annual Christmas party, we had games and food and gifts for all the kids. The party was in full swing when Chantell approached me looking pensive.

"What's up Chantell? You look like someone just stole your favorite sweater."

"Um Skye. I don't know how to tell you, but the toilets are backing up. It's the worst in the lady's room and there are a bunch of little girls about to pee their pants."

"Okay." I said. "Open the office area and have someone stay in the hall to make sure it's only the bathroom they're entering. You know how people like to snoop. And then see if you can find a plumber, we're going to need those toilets come Monday."

With the crisis temporarily averted we continued on with fun for the families. Approximately thirty minutes later Chantell approached with a smile.

"Good news. It took a lot of calling around, but I found someone who will come today. It will be at overtime rates but at least he'll come. He's supposed to be here within the hour. I forgot the company name, he said his name is Gus."

The party had basically wound down, I was checking my watch considering it had been 40 minutes and I hadn't seen the plumber yet. A half an hour later I was pissed. I waved at Chantell and told her to find a plumber who would actually show up.

"He's already here Skye. Has been for almost forty minutes. He's outside running an auger through what he called the lateral from the offices to the main pipe. Or something like that. He says it has tree roots growing through it. He'll need a signature when he's finished, Rex and me are going home, I'll tell the guy to see you when he's done."

I was in my office going through paperwork when I heard a faint knock on the door jamb. Turning I nearly fell out of the chair. Have you ever seen illustrations of those hunky looking guys on the cover of a romance novel and wondered if they were real? I no longer wondered, there was one standing in my doorway with a nametag sown on his shirt that read, "Gus". My mind was doing flip flops. My God he was gorgeous, tall, muscular, had a bright white smile and long flowing hair. Then my mind kicked in, his hair was blonde and long. As lovely as he was, he was white.

"Are you Miss Skye?" He asked.

"Yes, that's me."

"Mind if I get a signature from you for today's invoice?"

I was caught up in the moment wondering why my mouth wasn't working right. Why wasn't I able to simply answer and sign the invoice? His voice brought me back to reality.

"Miss Skye?"

I quickly stood, "Yes. Yes, I can sign it. Were you able to correct the problem? Um, Gus?"

He frowned, "Yes and no. It's a band-aid fix. It'll get you through the next few days but the line from this building to where it connects with the larger line from the factory going into the city system needs to be replaced. It's the original stuff, which was clay, over the years tree roots have broken it and clogged the pipe. I'm busy Monday and Tuesday, but I can be here Wednesday and get that started."

"How will we be able to use the bathrooms if the pipe is being replaced? Can't it be done on a weekend?"

He didn't look frustrated or upset, he simply spoke, "It'll take more than two days miss. Is there any possibility you can close on Friday? That will give me three days which will be enough time. I'll move the backhoe in and have pipe delivered on Wednesday if that'll work."

I had no choice, "I'll make it work. I'll give everyone Friday off with pay."

Handing the signed invoice back to him he asked, "How early can I start?"

"How early do you want me here?"

He looked as though he was thinking, "First light is about 5:30. Any chance I can start then?" I nodded. "Thanks miss, I'd shake your hand but I'm all dirty and stink like, crap."

I smiled, "Yes, I noticed."

From the office window I watched him walk to the service van. Damn he was wonderful. I had never thought of a man as pretty, but he certainly fit that description as far as I was concerned. Then I caught myself, "why couldn't he be black?" He had a sure-footed gait as he strode across the lot, head up, shoulders back, his long blonde hair fluttering with the breeze. As he approached the van door he looked up and waved, a simple wave, as if to say, "see ya". I was surprised to see him in the parking lot when I pulled up to my designated spot at 6 Monday morning.

He was measuring and taking notes. As I got closer he stopped what he was doing and looked up.

"Good morning miss Skye."

He was consistently polite, something I found surprising from a man in the trades. I'm not sure why, I just had it in my head that all guys in the trades were rough and scruffy.

"Good morning Gus. I thought you weren't going to start until Wednesday?"

He smiled, "I'm not. I needed a solid measurement to order the pipe and have it delivered. I have a septic system to install today and tomorrow, I'll be here at 5:30 Wednesday morning if it isn't raining."

His hair was pulled back in a ponytail, his face was clean shaven, his clothes were well worn but clean and he didn't smell like sewage. In my mind I kept thinking he was like some surfer kind of guy. I realized that I had been silent for longer than normal and blurted out.

"Yes. Yes, that will be fine and thank you for getting to this right away."

With that he nodded his head and turned away. I watched as he strode to the truck, I suddenly realized staring at his butt and strong looking legs. His upper body was a natural V shape with a thick chest and muscled arms. The pocket T he was wearing wasn't tight, but then it didn't need to be, anyone with decent eyesight could see he was ripped. Walking up the stairs to my office the same thought played in my head like a six o'clock newsreel over and over again. If only he was black.

Chantell bounced in full of vim and vigor just before seven. I knew why, she had whispered as they left the party that she was going home to get laid and screw Rex into next week. Judging by the bounce in her step and the never-ending grin on her face I assumed her words had rung true. I filled her in on the status of our plumbing dilemma and of the plan to close on Friday with pay. It wasn't the employees fault the pipes were bad.

I wondered why they hadn't been replaced when the main one going to the street had been. That and the filtering system to keep production debris from going into the city system were the most expensive part of the original remodel. Crikey, wouldn't you think they would have replaced everything? Obviously not, and it didn't matter, the repairs had to be done. Chantell, bless her heart, came into the office with a cup of coffee for me just after 8. What a sweetheart. I never asked her to do that, she simply took it upon herself every working day.

With a wry grin she sidled next to my desk, "So boss. What did you think of that Gus guy? Cute as hell isn't he?"

I shot her a disapproving look, "You're married. What are you doing looking at other men? And yes, he's cute as hell, but he's white."

"Yeah boss, here's how that works. Black guys don't naturally have long blonde wavy hair. As for looking. Am I supposed to act as though men other than Rex don't exist? I look, yup that's a man. I look again, yup he's handsome or ugly. I don't look a third time, I have all the man I can handle at home. Why in hell would I be so stupid as to look elsewhere. That's dangerous shit boss."

I sighed and sat back looking up at Chantell, "You're right, he's handsome, he certainly fills out a shirt and jeans, he's polite, tender, kind and has an air of confidence you seldom find in a man. Only one problem."

Before I could continue she interrupted, "Yeah, yeah, yeah, he's white, so what? What is it about you and white people? Do you think I made a mistake marrying Rex? He's about as white bread as they come."

That hit a nerve, "I don't have an issue with white people, after all many of our employees meet those criteria. I had a horrible experience with a white guy in my senior year of high school, I swore I would never go out with another white guy."

She turned sideways to leave then stopped, looked at me and huffed, "That's messed up Skye. Not every guy is like that dog turd. I know there are good looking and successful black guys out there. You obviously haven't found one to make your liver quiver or you wouldn't still be an unmarried virgin at the age of 32. Stop lumping every white guy together with the idiot from high school."

Shit, shit, and double shit. I knew she was righ,t but I damned sure wasn't about to admit it. Tuesday morning a truck dropped off a stack of thick plastic pipe I assumed was to replace the old damaged stuff. I was about to leave when I heard noise from below. It was Gus backing in a truck with a heavy-duty trailer and backhoe. I decided to call it a day and made my way to where he was unloading the machine. With it parked in place and the trailer ramps secured he walked toward me.

"Afternoon miss Skye. I won't begin replacing pipe until Friday but I wanted to get the equipment here so I can start first light. I should have most of the old pipe removed by the end of the day. You have a good evening miss."

I thought it odd that he addressed me as miss or miss Skye instead of my first name. Rain was forecast for later Wednesday and all of Thursday, he had mentioned he would be out of the inclement weather inside roughing a new house.. When I drove in at 5:30 Friday morning he was already on-site doing maintenance on his machine. As I opened the car door he startled me standing a few feet away with a bag in his hand.

"Morning miss Skye. Thought you might like a donut. Made um myself last night. I see you're thin and probly eat healthy all the time, but I thought, just maybe."

I felt my defenses melting as I smiled, "No coffee? Chantell usually bring me coffee about 8 but she's off today."

Handing me the bag he turned to point toward his truck, "Got some coffee in a thermos if that's not to down homey for you. It's black, I don't do the fancy stuff."

I chuckled, "Hot and black is just the way I like it. Thank you, will you be joining me?"

We were almost to the truckn when he veered off, "Nope. Thermos is on the seat, there are cups next to it. Help yourself, I need to get started."

I should have gone in but didn't. I sat on a bench outside the employee entrance and watched him work magic with a backhoe. How did he know where those pipes would be, and how did he know exactly how deep they would be? It was ten in the morning before I came to my senses and went to the office. I had been absorbed in thought and paperwork when I suddenly realized the noise outside had ceased. Looking down I smiled to myself. There he sat on the tailgate of his pickup with a sandwich and small bag of chips. He opened a playmate cooler and lifted a Doctor Pepper from the ice.

Watching him I couldn't help thinking back to when I was little eating a sandwich with my folks at the store. I would sit on a hard wooden bench in the office thinking I had the world by the tail. It was a simple thing, and yet it was an extravagance I wished was still with me. Looking at Gus, his hair blowing slightly with the breeze, his shirt dampened from sweat, lightly swinging his feet enjoying life. I found myself thinking of something that had happened when I was dating Justin.

Being from Alabama Justin loved the song Sweet Home Alabama by Lynnrd Skynnrd. He would play that CD nearly every time we were in the car. On that CD was a song named simple man, and that's what I saw in Gus. A simple man. The lyrics to the chorus are, "be a simple kind of man, be something you love and understand." To me that's what Gus was, a simple, unassuming gentle man who knew who and what he was. If only he wasn't white.

He was just finishing up when I walked out to my car after three. I waved and got in the car. I noticed a dump truck backing in and stopped. Rolling the window down I signaled toward Gus. He trotted to the car.

"What's the truck for?" I asked.

"He's bringing in sand to go under the pipe and help maintain the correct pitch so it drains properly. Then I'll put more over the pipe before I backfill. It's going better than I thought, I should be done by noon Sunday."

I waved goodbye and meandered toward home, my mind wouldn't let me alone as I kept thinking about this simple man whom I found myself attracted to. What in the heck was wrong with me? After all, I had convinced myself I wasn't going to be romantically involved with a white guy, no matter how cute and nice he was. Lying in bed surrounded by nothing but darkness I allowed myself to ponder the dilemma I had created internally after the Todd Struthers incident. There was no way to rightfully dispute Chantells words concerning the fact that I was painting every white guy with the same brush. A vision of Gus sweeping me off my feet, holding me in his strong arms as he kissed me, caused a shiver to run down my spine.

Sleep was slow coming and I knew the reason why, my mind wouldn't shut off, I was busy imagining what it might be like in his arms. Then it would do a flip flop and wonder if he would even be interested in a thin 32-year-old virgin? Maybe he liked girls with big boobs and bouncy butts, items I did not possess. Maybe he didn't like black girls. Maybe he was gay, after all, he didn't so much as flirt with me when we were alone in my office. Too many questions with no definitive answers, I was assuming which always leads to one thing. Making an ass of myself.

I chose to swing by the plant after church and was pleasantly surprised to see him putting sand over the new piping. I was about fifteen feet from the backhoe as he scooped more sand into the bucket and then in the trench when he stopped. With the machine shut off he jumped out and walked toward me.

"Morning miss Skye. How was church?"

"Church was fine. Especially since I was able to avoid the old biddies who gossip about everything. Including why someone was digging a trench in my parking lot. I have to say Gus, I am impressed. You've come a long way, you must have started awfully early."