Sleeping on the Terrace

It was sunny out and Jason had just finished stacking all the boxes the movers dumped in the middle of his new apartment. He was bushed.

"How can it be this hot and not melt glass?" He thought wiping his brow and realizing that August can be brutal in Virginia. He looked at the thermometer on the wall outside the terrace door. It was already well beyond ninety and the day was far from over.

He picked up the phone and dialed the building manager.

"Hello, any word yet on when the AC guy is going to show up and fix my unit? Okay, I see. Can you call them again and nudge them my way? Thanks."

"At least the terrace isn't on the sunny side of the building," he thought.

"I need something to drink," he muttered as he walked towards the refrigerator in his small kitchen.

With a cool glass of iced tea in hand Jason headed for the terrace to rest.

"The terrace wasn't much to write home about," Jason thought, as he looked through the screen door that led to his side of the terrace. It wasn't very deep, perhaps eight feet or so, and it ran the full length of the building. But it was covered.

"That was a plus," he thought when he signed the lease.

The cover provided a modest amount of protection from the sun and rain. There was a short wall that bisected the area in half so that the two apartments on this side of the third floor shared equal parts of the terrace.

"Fences make good neighbors," Jason mused idly.

He was hoping to catch a breeze while waiting for the repairman. He sat down on a wicker chaise lounger and within minutes, in spite of the heat, he began to doze off.

A few minutes later he heard the neighbor's terrace screen door slide open. Jason decided to keep his eyes shut and play 'possum'.

"Maybe if I pretend to be asleep they won't notice me," he thought.

Standing next to the low wall that separated the two areas on the common terrace, a beautiful young woman looked across at Jason sleeping on the chaise.

The gentle breeze that drifted across the terrace played with the curls of her auburn hair as she stood there watching Jason sleeping. Then, as if caught by a sudden idea, she quickly dashed back inside her apartment.

Jason relaxed again with a sigh and settled further into the cushions.

"Apparently playing 'possum' worked," he thought.

Unfortunately, his reward for 'faking it' was short lived because Jason heard his neighbor's screen door slide open again. A moment or two later the neighbor returned and, to Jason's surprise, they stepped over the low fence that divided the terrace and walked up to him lying on the chaise.

Jason barely opened his eyes and peeked through narrow slits. He saw a very pretty woman kneeling down at his feet with a bottle of red nail polish.

"Well, in for a penny, in for a pound," he thought impishly. "Besides, why spoil her fun."

She sat down cross-legged at his feet, opened a bottle of red nail polish, and began to paint his toenails. She glanced up several times to make sure he was still asleep. When he didn't flinch she seemed satisfied that she hadn't disturbed him and she resumed her prank.

Jason slowly opened his eyes again and watched his neighbor carefully paint his toenails red.

"Hmm, very pretty," he thought admiring what he could see through his nearly closed eyes. He tried to keep as still as possible even when she inadvertently tickled him.

Once done, she picked up a pair of white sandals with four-inch heels and slowly slipped the shoes on his feet.

A few minutes later, Jason opened his eyes and glanced down to see his neighbor sitting cross-legged near his feet and grinning like a Cheshire cat.

He looked down at his feet and then to her. He grinned awkwardly and admired her work.

"Nice color," he mused as he raised his foot up to inspect his toes. "Nice shoes, too. I'm surprised that you had a pair that fit," he said sitting his feet on the terrace floor and starting to stand up. He walked casually to the terrace door that led into his apartment. He turned to see her still sitting on the floor with a look of shock on her face.

"What? I bet you expected me to stumble or fall didn't you?" His mouth curled into an impish grin then he turned and walked inside.

Totally surprised, she got up and followed him to the doorway.

"Hey!" she said.

"Want something cool to drink," he asked? "I think the afternoon sun is still warming up the place. Or perhaps it's just the nail polish?"

"You've worn heels before, haven't you?" she asked.

"Once or twice, but never in front of anyone else. You're the first. You can have water, iced tea, or a soda? You pick."

"Iced tea please," she replied, leaning against the doorframe. "You move well in them. They look very cute on you."

"Thank you."

Jason filled up two glasses and walked back to sit by the couch in front of the television.

"Join me," he said, gesturing to her to sit on the couch as he sat on a chair nearby.

She took the glass he offered and sat tentatively on the couch sipping her tea. Jason glanced at her and he could see that curiosity was getting the best of her.

"Are you into cross-dressing?" she asked finally.

"You see that's what bugs me about the whole social construct. Women can wear pants and shirts and ties and it's not cross-dressing, it's considered cute or sexy. Men can't wear dresses or panties or high heels because it considered feminine and perverted. Therefore it's negatively referred to as cross-dressing, transvestitism, or what have you."

"Nice rant but you didn't answer my question."

"I know. I can't find an answer that suits me." He set his feet on the coffee table and crossed his ankles. Then he admired the sandals on his feet. "These shoes do look nice don't they?"

She shook her head and chuckled.

"You are unique," she quipped with a wry smile.

"Not really. Just open-minded and unwilling to adhere to an antiquated concept of how men and women should or can behave." He paused a moment and looked at her with a big smile.

"My god what incredibly blue eyes," he thought mesmerized by their beauty.

"Hi, I'm Jason," he said moving to stand up and offer his hand. "I just moved in this morning. Apparently we share a terrace, well sort of share."

"Hmm," Rachel thought as she stood to take his hand.

"I'm Rachel, I'm glad to meet you," she replied. In those four-inch heels he stood several inches above her slender five-foot ten-inch frame. She stood there barefoot and grinned back at him as he sat back down and began to channel surf on the television across the room.

Her mouth twisted into an impish smirk as she sat down cross-legged on the couch and studied him over the rim of her glass of iced tea. He was busy flipping through channels on the television while the sound was muted. He actually wasn't that much taller than she was, and his sandy brown hair had a bit of a curl and an unkempt look about it which she admired. He had a nice face, a warm and inviting smile, and his eyes seemed to twinkle with mischief.

His handshake was firm and warm. She liked that. It was a good sign. The fact that he could not only enjoy her prank but walk comfortably in four-inch heels didn't go unnoticed either. She smiled wistfully.

"Perhaps my luck was improving...finally," she thought with a wry smile.

"What do you do when you're not walking around in my sandals or sleeping on the terrace?" she asked coyly.

Jason turned away from the television and glanced back at Rachel.

"I'd like to say that I'm a writer but that hasn't worked out so well lately. In reality I'm starting work next week teaching English at the community college."

"What do you write about?" she asked.

"Mostly pulp fiction stuff...nothing ground breaking."

"Have I read any of your stories?" she asked knowing her collection wasn't extensive but it was growing.

"Probably not, unless you go for romance or erotica," he replied.

"Hmmm, I do actually, they're some of my favorites. Do you have a pen name or should I just search under the name Jason?"

"I do, but I'm not ready to share that just yet."

"Feeling a little vulnerable are we?" she asked with a devilish grin.

"A little. A writer reveals a lot about who they are by what they write and the way they write it," he replied with a wry grin. "Perhaps I'll share some of my work with you sometime."

"I'd like that," she replied, her blue eyes sparkled mischievously.

"And what do you do when you're not painting the toenails of unsuspecting neighbors?" he asked grinning.

"I. T."

"You do 'it'? "Seems like an odd job, 'it'."

"Ha, ha, very funny. I.T. Information Technology, I work for a law group downtown keeping the nimrods from crashing their database among other things."

"So I can come to you when my computer goes on the fritz?"

"For a price," she said, her eyes sparkling. "Like dinner."

"That's an excellent idea. How about I bank some credits and we have dinner out this Saturday? I'd ask you earlier but I still have to sort out all this stuff," he said waving towards the stack of boxes on the far wall.

"Need an extra pair of hands? I'd be happy to help."

"No, but thanks for the offer," he replied cheerfully. "I didn't do a very good job of labeling so it's really only a puzzle I can decipher."

She smiled and nodded.

Jason put his feet on the floor and unbuckled her sandals. He stood up and handed them to her with a broad grin. "Thanks."

"Well then," she replied with a winsome smile while taking her sandals. "I'll guess I'll see you Saturday night."

She walked out the terrace door with her drink in hand fully intending to use it as an excuse to see him again later if the opportunity presented itself.

"Suddenly my fortunes are beginning to brighten," she thought whimsically.

"Great!" he replied. He stood there watching her disappear around the corner. Then he glanced down at his naked red toes and smiled.

The following morning came too early for Jason as he walked out of his apartment, turned, and locked his door. He had a nine o'clock meeting and he was already running late.

At the same moment he noticed his neighbor, whom he thought he met the day before as a beautiful woman, step out of the apartment next door. Only now his neighbor was dressed in pants, a shirt and tie, a ball cap, and a nice jacket.

He looked very much like a young man casually heading off to work. It could have been her brother were it not for the eyes. They had the same blue intensity that he remembered finding himself lost in yesterday afternoon. Plus the touch of mascara around the corners helped convince him that he was looking at the same person.

Jason nodded in his neighbor's direction and smiled. "Good morning."

"Good morning," she replied, slight blushing. Her eyes darted around the hallway and looked a little panicky.

"Could you tell Rachel that I'd like to pick her up around six on Saturday. Do you think that will be okay with her?"

She seemed to relax a moment and then she nodded.

"I'm sure it will be fine," she replied with a warm smile.

"Great. Thanks."

That afternoon he returned from his last class and opened his front door to find Rachel standing in the terrace doorway holding two cartons of Chinese carryout.

"Hi," she said coquettishly. "Dinner's ready."

Jason smiled and shook his head. Then with a gesture he ushered her towards his kitchen.

"Umm, Kung-Pao Chicken," he said opening up one of the cartons, "my favorite!"

"My lucky guess paid off," she said with a chuckle.

They pulled out plates and flatware and Jason got two beers out of his refrigerator.

"Let's take this to the terrace," he said leading the way to the terrace door.

A few minutes later, with clean plates piled on a table that sat between the chairs on the terrace, Jason leaned back in his chair and slowly finished his beer.

"So," she said as nonchalantly as possible, "where were you before you moved here?"

"Cleveland."

"Cleveland? I've never met anyone from Cleveland before," she replied rather energetically.

"Well, I'm not really from Cleveland, that's just where I was last," he replied with a sigh. "My family was military and we moved around a lot. So I guess you could say I'm from the Earth. I suppose that would be more accurate. My dad and mom were both career military and that meant we spent most of our lives living out of a suitcase."

"So how come you didn't follow in their footsteps?" she asked cautiously.

"They would have liked that a lot but the military life is not for me. I told them so one day when they were pressuring me to enlist and my dad went all 'The Great Santini' on my ass. I walked out on them and lived with my grandmother for a couple of months before college started."

"I stayed in school longer than I expected and fell in love with writing," he continued after a pull on his beer. "I knocked around a bit, tried to sell my stories and eventually I ended up teaching high school English in Cleveland."

"Why did you leave?" she asked.

"Bored, and tired of stupid public school administrators who have their heads shoved so far up politician's asses that they haven't seen daylight in years. School systems that cater to the lowest common denominator, students who...."

"Okay, okay, I get it," she said interrupting. "But you're still teaching in public school, albeit it's college instead of high school."

"True," he replied. "I heard someone call it 'thirteenth grade' the other day and the description wasn't that far off for some of them. But there are a few brighter bulbs among the dim ones so that helps."

Jason took another pull on his beer and glanced over at Rachel.

"So what about you?" he asked with a wry grin. "Where are you from?"

"Here," she said with a shrug. "I've lived her all my life. I've never been anywhere else."

"What? How about vacations? Didn't your family go anywhere on a trip or something?" he asked leaning over on one arm.

"Nope, my dad managed a convenience store before he retired," she said with another shrug. "We never went much anywhere. Wait, that's wrong, when I was in ninth grade my parents took me to Washington, D.C. I did really great on a government test so as a reward they took me and my sister up to see the capitol building for the weekend."

She sat back a moment and reflected on that trip with a simple smile on her face.

"Have you ever been on a airplane?" he asked.

"Nope, someday I will."

Jason paused a moment. Rachel glanced over and could see from the expression on his face that he was cooking up something.

"Okay, here's the deal," he started with a gleam in his eye. "In three weeks I've got fall break at the college and we, you and I, are going to the Bahamas."

"What?"

"You heard me, I'm going to book us a flight and hotel package tonight, it's off season down there now so it's the perfect time to go. I'll get two rooms adjoining but that won't matter because we'll spend most of the time on the beach anyway."

"Jason!"

"What? Don't you want to go?"

"Of course I want to go, but Jason," she replied looking a bit shocked, "I hardly know you. I mean we just met yesterday for god's sake."

"It's not like we're sleeping together or anything. We'll have separate rooms. We're just two friends spending a couple of days in the Bahamas enjoying the beach. Or would you rather we could drive somewhere and go to a museum or something. I just thought it would be great to fly somewhere close and they have these great weekend packages to the Bahamas..."

"Okay, I understand," she said interrupting. "It was just so sudden it took me by surprise."

She paused a moment and looked at Jason's eager face.

"Why do I want to do this so badly?" she wondered. "He just makes me feel so happy to be with him."

"So do you want to go with me to the Bahamas or would you prefer a museum or something?" he asked cautiously.

"The Bahamas," she whispered blushing a deep crimson.

"Cool," he replied with a broad grin. "I'll get my laptop and we can book it together, right now."

They spent the rest of the evening haggling over room and airfare prices, but in the end they found a quaint little hotel off the beaten path that the website claimed had exceptional views and a short walk to the beach.

The next morning Jason walked out of his front door and turned to lock it as Rachel, dressed in pants and a jacket again, walked out into the hallway.

He turned and extended his hand. "Hi, we haven't formally met but I've spoken to your roommate a couple of times," Jason said with a huge grin.

"Hi, I'm Ray," she said with a twinkle in her eye.

"It's nice to meet you Ray, I'm Jason," he replied. "Have a good day at work."

"Thanks, the same to you," she said as she locked her apartment door and started down the stairs.

Jason had a late afternoon class that day so when he finally returned home he found an ice tea glass sitting on his kitchen counter with a small note beneath it.

'Hi, there was a network crash at work this afternoon so I need to go back to fix it before they wet their pants. Here's the glass I borrowed, see you Saturday night.'

The rest of the week whisked by in a flash and Jason soon found himself standing outside of Rachel's door pressing the doorbell.

She opened the door a moment later and smiled broadly. She stood there in a stunning sapphire blue dress that hugged her curves nicely. It was cut just above her knees and revealed enough cleavage to make him want to dwell there more than he should.

"I'll be just a minute," she said walking briskly back into her apartment in hose. "I just have to find a decent pair of shoes."

"You could try that pair of white sandals," he said with a smirk. "I'm told they go with just about anything."

Rachel leaned back around the corner and raised an eyebrow. "I think I will." She scrunched her nose and smiled.

Several minutes later they walked out of the front door of the apartment building towards the parking lot.

"Would you like to drive or would you like me to?" he asked casually.

"I don't have a car so I guess it's up to you," she replied smiling coyly.

"Really? How do you get to work?" he asked.

"I take the bus. It's a direct route and thirty minutes later I'm dropped off nearly at the office front door," she replied. "Sometimes getting home can be a pain but most of the times it works out okay."

Jason opened the passenger door for her and she slid into the seat. He walked around his car and got in behind the wheel.

"Where are we going?" she asked with a curious smile.

"Not far," he replied. "Do you like Indian food?"

"I've never had it, is it good?"

"My dear, you are in for a treat."

Twenty minutes later they walked into the Taj Mahal, a local restaurant that specialized in southern Indian cuisine.

"The smells are so intoxicating," she murmured softly as they followed the waiter to their table, glancing around as she walked. "It so exotic in here."

"I can't believe that you've never been in an Indian restaurant," he said as they both sat down in one of the booths.

"That's me, I'm an Indian food virgin. So what should I order?" she asked looking at the menu. "I have no idea what I'm looking at."

"Don't worry, we'll get the sample platter for two. It's the best way to discover everything. Sometimes the stuff can be terribly hot but I'll steer you clear of those items if you're palate isn't used to spicy hot foods.

After they ordered dinner and the waiter left their table, Rachel looked up and smiled at Jason.

"Thank you for not making a fuss the other morning in the hallway," she said demurely.

"Why would you expect me to do something like that," he asked?