Thanks For The Bath Water

My fingers plucked the soft strings of my guitar as I sat in the stairwell of my tiny apartment. I though of the night's events fondly and how I might later regret my choice. The Low E-String buzzed and I immediately silenced the chord.

We'd talked a few times. She had dark brown hair and green eyes, a smile that could melt you from across the room like cheap birthday cake candles. Her body was that befitting a bronzed goddess. Her name was Angel.

We'd talked a few times, I said before. Light talk, full of innuendo and plays on words, a sort of cat and mouse game I played with dames to see how smart they really were, to see if they had a sense of humor. She had my full attention – a woman like that deserved nothing less.

She'd heard I was leaving town. It was a rushed job, middle of the night kind of thing for me. I wanted as far from this town and its pain and misery as I could get. And she wanted to meet the guy that made her smile and laugh, which had kept her on her toes. So we met for a drink. I was all hers till close, I'd said. And she was going to take advantage of every moment.

We sat at the bar, she sipping on something with bourbon in it and me sipping a sprite with lemon. I'd been off the sauce for a while. It just brought back painful memories and gave me nightmares. I didn't need or want that but was under the occasional impression it would help me not feel. Which sometimes was good, others, not so good.

And then she got to it. Her whole story of how she'd broken up with her boyfriend, he'd dumped her and left. She lived upstairs with friends, some who lived there, others left – kind of like a commune. She called it her "hotel."

We talked a few hours about her plans and her dreams and how she was hoping to make something better for herself. I sat and sipped my sprite while she opened up more about everything. I just sat there and listened to it all – not judging, not criticizing, but just taking it all in.

Before we knew it, the bartender made the last call. She warmed up her drink a bit and offered me something. I said I was fine and sipped the last of my watered down sprite.

It was time to go and we both found ourselves walking up the hill to my place. We sat on the steps and talked for a bit longer. She asked me if she could smoke a joint.

"Umm, no." I didn't explain why, but told her it wasn't a good idea in this neighborhood. So she asked about inside. I replied landlord didn't allow it. Neither did I for that matter. But I did invite her up.

We sat on the couch and talked a bit longer. She was a beautiful woman and I knew she was about to offer to show me just how much more beautiful she was.

But the topic strayed back to her roommates and how much she missed being able to take a decent bath. So I offered mine and even offered some bubble bath and she accepted on condition that I keep her company during her bathe.

I started her bath and mixed the vanilla bubble bath in with the warm water. I gave her the softest towel I could find and let the tube warm up. She had followed me inside and began to strip off what little clothes she had.

It had been several months since I had even seen a woman's back and she turned to face me in all of her splendid beauty. I could still see the pain in her eyes though and that was all it took.

She bit her lower lip, pouting as my hungry eyes glanced at the goddess standing before me. I took her by the hand and helped her to sit down in the tub.

I sat down next to the tub slightly behind, and out of her sight. And she began to talk again. I picked up my guitar and played for her. The lights were very low with only the occasional sound of the moving water and the quiet chirp of my fingers on steel strings as she continued to talk.

I played for her every song and yet no song, chords progressions and simple melody, pausing simply to answer her questions, she knew almost nothing about me, after all, she had done most of the talking.

At this point she was ready to get out. I gave her the softest towel I had. She said felt like she was drying off with a puppy. She stepped out of the tub with towel wrapped around her and I got up to take my guitar back to its resting place and give her some privacy.

She came out in just a t-shirt and sat down on the couch with me.

"You are the perfect gentleman," she said. "She must really be special."

"Yeah," I said, knowing exactly whom she was talking about. "She is."

"Then I should probably get home." She went back to the bathroom and got dressed.

"I'm not gonna let a lady walk home by herself," I said. "Not at 4 in the morning."

"It'll be ok," she said.

"It would be be my pleasure," I said.

We walked back across town, talking about all other things. Her past boyfriends, in-laws, and all matters of trouble no lady should ever be forced to endure.

We got to her place and she gave me a kiss. "You sure you wouldn't like to come up."

"No, I've got to get home, I have work in the morning - in a few hours."

"Will you at least give me a kiss good night? I enjoyed myself, and you were the perfect gentleman."

"Of course. I would never turn down a Kiss from a beautiful woman."

She hugged me and I felt a single tear on her cheek followed by a short passionate kiss good night.

"Good night, Angel. It was a pleasure meeting you."

"Good night, William. Thank you for the bath and for listening." I turned to walk away and she called after me, "maybe I'll see you again sometime."

"Yeah, maybe."

The walk home was quiet. I got back to the steps at 430 and headed straight up. I moved her towel onto the second rack and began cleaning up for bed. On the cabinet was a little post-it note that said, "thank you, I appreciated the bath. Love, Angel"

We'd just talked a few times before. Her brown hair flowing down her shoulder, the sparkle of green in her eyes, a smile that would melt a man from across the room, and a body a man thank his lucky stars for. She was every bit her namesake, every bit an Angel.