Wendy Ch. 02

Outside it was a clear and crisp night. The fall season had arrived.

“Say,” she called out. “What color were they?”

I turned and a full moon cast my shadow back toward the half open door where she stood, hand on the door. “What color?”

“Ellen’s robe and nightgown, silly,” she laughed.

I was thinking of the day ahead as I answered, “Oh, pink I think. The night gown was pink, now I must get along.”

“And the robe?”

I honestly could not remember. It had been two years and I had other things on my mind back then. I picked a color at random which she seemed to know. “Blue.” I said.

“You’re making this up, you couldn’t even keep your steps straight!” she asserted.

She was right, there had been no steps. Ellen gave me ideas not steps; she said there is no ‘magic sequence, you choose the order as you go, otherwise its paint by the numbers.’

I had turned it around and Wendy had caught me at it. So I told her what Ellen had really said.

Hearing this she cocked her head to one side and called me on it. We were acting like school children. She would not let it go.

“Material, what was the material?” she asked.

I moved quickly to the door and jerked it from her hand. My action was impromptu and I had no idea what was taking place, neither did she. We stood toe to toe our breathing shortened. I reached for her; she came willingly. I held her close and in a hushed but firm tone spoke into her ear.

“Damn you, what’s so important about the fucking material? You can’t get a simple contract right and you’re concerned about fabric! It was winter and the night gown was flannel, pink like I said. The reason I remember it was pink is because there were some red hearts at the top and they looked right with the pink. It was long and hung snug to her, below the knees. There were red draw strings that held it together at the top. The reason I remember that is because I could slide my hand through the opening and feel her tits. She wore the same one every night that week and I slid my hand through that opening every night before she took off the night gown. We finally took the draw strings out.”

Wendy shivered, from the cold or from my speech, I did not know. She clutched me to her. I kissed her and she kissed me back. It was not a passionate kiss and I did not care. It had more meaning.

The phone was ringing as I walked through the back door.

“Robe?” she said.

“Go soak your pants! I said, hanging up the phone.