The Widows of Sea Trail-Vivienne of Sugar Sands

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The Widows of Sea Trail-Vivienne of Sugar Sands Page 4

by Jacqueline DeGroot


  “Well, one customer in particular came around every single day, sometimes twice a day for a maple-glazed donut and some burnt coffee. His name was Dale and he was very nice to me, tip-wise. He was very upset when I told him I was leaving the donut shop and going to work someplace else. I didn’t know it at the time, but he often followed me home at night after I’d worked the late shift. He usually left the donut shop at the same time I did, toward the end of my shift, but I never thought anything of it. Later, I found out that he followed me and waited until I was inside my dorm before driving off after every night shift.

  “The next night he followed me when I left the dorm for work. I can’t imagine what he must have thought when he pulled up in front of that bar with the flashing neon lights saying, ‘Topless Girls.’

  “At five my shift started and although it was the hardest thing I ever had to do, I came out of the back office with my top off. Must’ve been fifteen guys in the bar at the time and they all hooted and hollered, causing a ruckus you wouldn’t believe. After all the cat calls and whistles I finally got down to the business of serving drinks and I was almost able to forget I was topless except when the A/C was on full blast causing my nipples to grow long and to stay long. Apparently that didn’t hurt business any and soon I couldn’t keep up with the orders or the stares. Then in comes Dale.

  “I remember I flinched to see him sit at a table in my area. Well, I figured, it was sooner or later that I’d end up with someone I knew coming in and that I’d have to face the embarrassment and shame of what I was doin’, so I walked over and asked him what he’d have. I remember how long he stared up at my breasts, but it was a different kind of look, not the lusty leers I’d been getting. He was looking at me, lovingly, adoringly, if that makes any sense, with desire, not with eyes glazing over with ill-concealed lust.

  “ ‘I’ll have you,’ he said, as he got out of the chair and knelt by the table, ‘as my wife.’And with that he pulled out a box, flipped it open and flashed the biggest diamond I had ever seen. ‘I’ll get you through school,’he said, ‘I’ll get you through everything; I’ll get you through life. Just put your shirt back on and come home with me.’

  “I stood staring at the ring, then at the tips of my breasts now in my line of vision as I bent over to see it better, and then I looked up and met his kind, soft eyes. He had his shirt off and was covering me. I never gave it another thought. I walked out of the bar, tucked under the protection of his arm and I never once regretted it. He was older than I was, and divorced with three kids, but I loved that man. He was a good man and he spoiled me until the day he died. Still spoils me, ‘cause he thought enough to provide for me after he was gone. Not in a grand style, mind you, but adequate, very adequate.”

  There was silence on the line and I timidly asked, “You still there or did I cause you to nod off?”

  “Still here. Enthralled. Vastly amused and enthralled.”

  “So, no stripper . . . just topless waitress, for about an hour,” I said.

  “I’ll bet he was fascinated by your breasts and never failed to show you how much he appreciated them.”

  “That is very true. And one of the reasons I’m even considering hookin’ up with a man again. Still get those urges; still yearn for a man’s touch. And not just there. But I sure do like to be appreciated there.”

  “Well that’s good to hear. And I will admit you’ve piqued my interest in at least one arena. Okay, make that two.”

  I smiled and I think he must have sensed it.

  “You’re a delight Vivienne. I have really enjoyed talking to you.”

  “But I’m still going into the shredder, aren’t I?”

  “Hell no! I’m not even going to bother with any of the others. I want to see you. When can I come see you, or would you rather come here?”

  I choked and then had to deal with a coughing spasm. “Wow, I wasn’t expecting that. Aren’t you supposed to have finalists and personal interviews and all that?”

  “I think I’ve made my decision, and even if I am ‘swinging’ my weight around as you say, it is my money, I can do what I want. And right now I can’t wait to meet you.”

  “As you well know, I live at the beach in a place called Sea Trail Plantation, it’s about four hours from Charlotte.”

  “I’m very familiar with Sea Trail, in fact I was just there a few weeks ago for a golf tournament. Even thought about buying some property there but thought it best to hold off until this was all settled. I have applications from all over the world, and didn’t know where I’d end up.”

  “I don’t doubt it. A handsome, wealthy man, ready to settle down, even if you’re on the other side of the hill, so to speak, guys like you are pretty much in demand everywhere.”

  “I don’t want to delude you, I have baggage. I have some issues. But I’d just as soon wait until we get to know each other better, and I’ve broken you in, before going into all that.”

  “Broken me in?”

  “I’m surprised it hasn’t occurred to you.”

  “What?”

  “That I’m a fairly dominant person.”

  “Well I assumed you would be, owning all those businesses and all.”

  “I’m dominant in all things.” There was a long pause. “If you still don’t understand what I’m trying to tell you, I’ll explain it in person next week when I come to see you.”

  I gasped. “You mean dominant, as in dominant versus submissive?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh my.”

  “Any problem?”

  “I don’t know.” And I truly didn’t.

  “Let’s find out. I see an email address for you on this app, [email protected]. Interesting address, suits you. How about we email each other and get to know one other a little better before we meet? I’ll e-mail you and you can email me back, and while you get to know my dark side, I’ll see how you respond to a few simple commands. My email address is [email protected], check your spam filter if you don’t see anything in a day or two.”

  I must admit, the word commands, sent a tiny thrill through me. “Peter Peter Peter?”

  “It makes more sense when you read it like the nursery rhyme, and please note that the last Peter has an a. Good night, Vivienne.”

  I sat in the dark room staring at the light flashing on the DVR player. What had I gotten myself into? I was about to get up and refill my wine glass when the phone rang again. Was he calling back, so soon? I didn’t know if I was ready to talk to him again. I looked at the caller I.D. It was Catalina. I definitely wasn’t ready to talk to her yet! I didn’t answer her call and I didn’t answer the one that came in a few minutes later that was blocked.

  Chapter Five

  Youth eternal At nine the next morning I called Johnny McCarty at Permanent Make-up to get an appointment for M.C.A. or Multitrepannic Collagen Actuation. It’s a non-surgical procedure that is entirely natural using the body’s own cells to regenerate and minimize wrinkles. After a careful assessment of my face and body, the only thing I was truly unhappy with was the small unsightly wrinkles around my lips, the upper one in particular. As people age their lips thin out and it causes the skin to draw in and make fine lines that draw attention to that now very obvious fact.

  Cat had told me how wonderful Johnny was and then shortly after that I read that he was one of only a handful of people in the country both certified and gifted enough to do the procedure. Still, I hadn’t been all that eager to “plump” up my withered wrinkles so much as the lip tissue itself. But after last night’s call, I was much more critical of my face. Staring for many long minutes into the 2X mirror and turning my head ever so slowly from side to side, I had to admit, I could use some help there. So I watched the clock until it was late enough that I could call. Johnny listened to my plight, and agreed to fit me in at eleven. Since we were dealing with some post-procedure swelling issues I might have to contend with, I had no time to spare.

  Then the girls and I met at
Suzanne’s Grill & Home Cooking for breakfast. I watched while Tessa and Cat chowed down on bacon, eggs, and hash browns. I had some cheese slices I brought in a baggie, and ordered a side order of ham slices. Suzanne was always accommodating, and never made fun of my weird diet. Whatever I said I couldn’t eat, even if it was included, she remembered to leave it in the kitchen, so my plate often looked pitifully empty. But I was finding that as long as I stuck to the regimen and had the four specified meals daily, I was more than satisfied. Whether it was simply a cup of re-warmed pinto beans, or a handful of strawberries with some cottage cheese, it always seemed to fill me up.

  I was determined to give my nosy friends just the barest gist of the conversation I’d had with Philip Camden until I sat down and saw their big smiles and wide eyes. Seeing their eager anticipation, I ending up spilling all.

  At the end of my long monologue, I leaned in so no one at any of the other tables could hear, and mentioned the dominant versus submissive comment. Tessa slapped my hand and grinned, then scooted her chair close to mine so she could excitedly whisper, “That is so cool, way cool, now don’t get put off, there are so many levels to BDSM. Even Roman and I dabble in it every now and again, it’s fun, and it steps things up a bit if you know what I mean.”

  “Actually, I have no idea what you mean. BDSM? Are you saying Roman ties you up and beats or whips you?”

  “Of course not! Uh . . . yeah, well maybe he does, but it’s not like you‘re making it out to be. He has restrainedme a few times. God, I remember one incredible night in Charleston. Oooh la la,” she said as she fanned herself with her napkin. “Seriously Viv, you would not believe how freeing it is to be tied up. And by the way, Bondage, Dominance, Submission, Masochism, hence BDSM, is a catch all for sex play that includes a varied assortment of things—toys, restraints, clips, piercings, costumes, you name it, whatever works for the top or the bottom—top being the dominant, bottom being the submissive.”

  When she saw my skeptical look she added, “Really, bondage is amazing. There’s nothing you can do, nothing left for you to do, nothing to think about or be concerned with except your body, prone and available to him. Your mind floats and you can’t help but concentrate on what he’s doing to you while he has total accessibility and you’re helpless to resist. It’s nothing short of amazing how your body reacts to being tied down and ravished. There is freedom in not having to choose what’s done to you. And yes, when I’ve been bad, he has spanked me a few times. But it’s nothing like what you’re thinking. It’s sex play and it’s hot, really hot.”

  I looked over at Cat, “Are you listening to this?”

  She nodded as she chomped down on a bite of toast. “It’s hot stuff. I have to agree.”

  No way could I imagine Matt spanking Cat. “Has the whole world gone mad? Is this the new normal in dating?”

  “You’d be surprised what’s considered normal these days.” Cat leaned over and whispered something in Tessa’s ear, the next thing I knew they were both laughing hilariously.

  “What? What are you two saying?”

  “I suspect you’ll find out soon enough. But let’s just say men have a whole new agenda in the bedroom these days, nothing is off limits anymore. Kinky is in.”

  “You can say that again,” Tessa said, “there’s no such thing as vanilla sex anymore. You gotta take it to the next level, which for older, experienced couples, especially those who’ve been together for a while, that means spice. Just watch a few of those sex videos they advertise on the last page of your AARP magazine, they show you exactly what’s happening in the bedroom these days. And I do mean exactly.”

  “Sex videos? Why did you buy sex videos?”

  “Roman has ‘em, we watch them together. That first night was quite memorable. In fact, I don’t think we slept at all that night.”

  “You girls are scaring me. I have very limited experience here.”

  “Don’t worry, a good Dom is a good teacher. You just need to make sure this is the guy you want before you get all submissive on him.”

  “Oh, believe me, I’ll make sure he’s the right guy before anything along those lines happens. I’m too old to be manipulated.”

  “Oh, don’t say that, man-nipple-ation is what I live for,” Cat said with a hoot at her outrageous play on words.

  “You guys have sex on the brain.”

  “Yeah, well it is Saturday morning, and here we are with you instead of at home in bed with our significant others, and I do mean significant—Roman was not anxious for me to leave, I gotta tell you that.”

  “Well go back home then, I have to go see Johnny at eleven and then go do my walk, and I think today would be a good day to walk by myself, think things over.”

  “Okay, you go walk, we’ll go back to bed. But look for some ‘special’video discs in the basket on your porch when you get home,” Tessa said as she gathered her purse and got up. “I’ll take care of this,” she said as she took the bill to the counter.

  “Yeah, sure,” I muttered, “Why can’t you do that for the brunch at the Parson’s Table? I just had two ham slices today, probably not even a buck.”

  Cat got up and gave me a hug. “Have a good walk and we’ll see you later. Call us when you find out when the big night is.”

  “Will do, now if I can only lose ten more pounds by next week.”

  “Don’t even try it, that’s too drastic. Just stay with the plan, three miles, four meals.”

  “Yes, mother.”

  “Speaking of which, didn’t you say your mom was coming to the beach in a few weeks?”

  “Oh my God, that’s right! Oh no!”

  “Oh no, is right. Wait until she finds out about this.”

  “I grabbed her wrist and tugged, none too gently, “Don’t you dare tell her!”

  “C’mon, she’s a witch, surely she knows by now?”

  Tessa came back just then. “Yeah, she probably does. Gonna sit by your front door and cast a spell on him when he comes to pick you up, turn him into the Terminator or Robert Bruce. Mmmm, Gerard Butler from that 300 movie would be nice.”

  “The way she screws up curses I’ll end up with Quasimodo, Encino Man, or Attila the Hun. Besides why would she bother to change him, he’s dreamy as he is.”

  “Ah, she finally admits we did a good job of finding a man for her.”

  “If he’s all he seems, I will thank you later. But let’s not jump the gun, he says he has baggage, and with my luck, it’s the whole line of American Tourister.”

  “Go. Walk. See Johnny. Think happy thoughts, and then go home and call your mother and keep her at bay until well after the big night.”

  “Yeah, that would be a good plan,” I said as I stood up and then whimpered.

  “What’s wrong?” Cat asked concern written all over her face.

  “Nicole. Too many squats. Did this getting up off the toilet seat this morning, too.”

  “Umm, the price of true love.”

  “I believe it was you who said my buns had to be high and tight, this is all your fault.”

  “You’d better be making a list of all the things you’re going to be thanking me for.”

  “Just go get screwed will you?”

  “My plans exactly,” and with a toss of her purse over her shoulder Cat strolled out of the diner.

  Tessa went to an oyster-recycling meeting and I left for my appointment with Johnny. Clearly Cat had the better deal.

  I couldn’t resist stopping by the house to check my email, to see if Philip had sent a message. He had, but I had to fish it out of my spam filter as he had told me his server was yahoo. com when it was hotmail.com. I set that address up and then read his message and replied. Walking back to the door I heard a ping. He was apparently sitting at his computer, because soon we were instant messaging:

  PeterPeterPeater: Hey Viv, just checking to see if we’ve made a connection here. I love talking to you on the phone, but I think people are more open and often more willing to say
things in emails that they might not say face-to-face, or even over the phone. The anonymity of the Internet seems to set people free, even though you and I know each other somewhat, I’d like our emails to take us to other places—into our true feelings and longings. So, with that, I’m going to introduce you to Peter, my inner bad boy. In case you haven’t figured out the moniker, it’s not Peter, Peter Pumpkin eater, it’s more like Peter, Peter, Pussyeater. I hope that doesn’t offend, I thought it was cute at the time, now I’m kind of used to it. So, let’s play a game shall we, let’s be open and brutally honest here and see where this goes. PPP

  VaVaViv: Hey Pumpkin! I don’t think I can call you Peter as I already know you as Philip. And I’m not really a huge fan of email, but I’m game. You are not allowed to critizie my spelling grammar or punctuation though, while I’m okay with pen in hand, I’m a horrible typeist. So what’s next?

  PeterPeterPeater: You ask me a question, any question. I’ll take it from there. VaVaViv: I don’t have a lot of time as I have an appt. in Calabash in a few minutes. I can’t really think of a question right now. Get me started.

  PeterPeterPeater: What kind of appointment?

  VaVaViv: Beauty, kind of. Getting ready for our date. PeterPeterPeater: Ah. Well here’s something you can ask next time we hook up online. Why do women like the Master/Slave scenario so much? And no, you cannot call me Pumpkin, pick something else. Later. Peter

  Chapter Six

  March madness It was cold on the beach but I endured it. I had a goal, and a reason to get there. I was going to drop as many pounds as I could before my “blind” date. I didn’t really know how to define this date, as I knew what he looked like, what he sounded like, and quite a few things about him. But what I didn’t know about him, would probably fill the ocean I was staring at as I walked along the beach.

  The pelicans were in grand form today, soaring and dipping and then returning to formation—single-minded but working in tandem. Like Tessa, Cat, and I. We were all out for one thing, the happily-ever-after for each of us, but working on it had been a team effort. I couldn’t help but love them more for all they were doing for me even though I was initially pretty steamed about them involving me like this. I still couldn’t believe it. I was going to meet a man who had hired a matchmaker to find him a bride, and not just any matchmaker, a really high dollar one. I wondered what she had initially thought after scanning my app, what had inspired her to put it in a keeper file, and what kind of notation she had made to him that had led to his first phone call.

 

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