Tuesday, October 13, 2009

Careful What You Wish For by Jennifer Robins

She stood at the open door, her snow white hair fashioned neatly a top her head. Dangling dark blue sapphire earrings the match of her deep blue eyes framed her sadly wrinkled face.
"Come right in. I've been waiting for you. I'm happy you could find time to come and tune my piano. I want it done for the holidays." She held the door for Carlson as he stomped the little snow from his shoes before entering.
"My piano is in the parlor, just follow me. Don't worry about your shoes." Her cane in hand, she led him from the large foyer down a hallway to the parlor.
It sat in the corner of the large room by the ceiling to floor large picture window that overlooked a spacious court yard. Ebony black concert grand piano glowed with its beauty waiting for its yearly tune up.
"Would you like tea, I have some made in the kitchen. I can bring you a cup. It will warm you."
"No thank you, Ma'am I'll just get to work here so you have your lovely piano in tune and ready for the holidays."
"If you change your mind let me know." She went off leaving him to do his work.
He gazed around the handsome parlor and a photograph on the desk caught his eye. He picked it up to admire the beauty portrayed in the wood framed picture. A second glance told him it had to be Miss Lillian at a much younger age. The resemblance was there without doubt.
She was so beautiful he couldn't take his eyes off of that photograph of her. If only he had been born when she was, he thought as he admired her lovely smile, her exciting beauty.


With his work at hand, he set the photograph down and went over to the piano and took his tools out from the case he carried in with him.
The entire time he worked at tuning the piano, he kept looking over at that photograph. It almost looked like she was looking straight at him. Because he was so fascinated by this image it took him longer to finish the job than usual.
Miss Lillian thanked him at the door after paying him with a check and bid him goodbye. He turned to face her before he stepped out into the cold. Yes, that photo was her all right.
A restless night in his bed followed a long day of wishful thinking of that sexy beautiful woman in the photograph. He couldn't get her out of his mind. Intoxicated by her beauty he lay awake until dawn not knowing how he could get through the day without sleep.
When the phone rang he threw his bare legs over the side of the bed and picked the receiver up from the phone next to his bed.
"Hello," He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. "Yes, this is he." His eyes grew wide, "Miss Lillian?" he stood up. "Oh. . .I left my tools there. All right, I'll come get them this morning if that's all right with you." His feet did a search on the floor for his slippers. "I'll be there shortly. Thanks for calling."
A quick shower and shave and he had him on his way still thinking about that lovely woman framed in a wood frame on the desk. Wish I could have been there when she was young.


Weaving through the morning rush hour traffic had him edgy. How he would ever get through this day had him wondering. It started to snow again for the second time this week.
He pulled into the driveway and hurried to the door. When he rang the bell he expected to see the old woman open the door and greet him with a friendly smile but instead the door opened and the greeting came from the young Lillian in the photograph. There she stood in all her beauty just like she appeared in the photograph. His mouth dropped open--he couldn't speak at first and had to compose himself. Slowly he entered the house without taking his eyes off of her for a second.
"Tha. . .thank you for calling," he cleared his throat, "About my tools."
"No problem. Would you like some tea? I have a fresh pot made in the parlor. It's so cold out, you look like you could use some warming up." Her smile, so enchanting accompanied her soft lovely voice. Her beauty captured him and held on to his very soul.
He sat with her in the parlor sipping tea before he noticed how much the d├ęcor of the room had changed. The furnishings were not quit the same but that didn't sway him—not when his attention zeroed in on her and how lovely she looked. Could this be real? Is she the old woman he saw here yesterday or is it a dream, or a relative who looked like her?
"Uh" he cleared his throat again, "Are you the same Miss Lillian that was here yesterday?"
He had to ask knowing that the old Miss Lillian lived there alone.
"Of course I am, you silly thing. This is me right in the flesh." She let out a giggle that had his heart beating fast. Then to make it even more un-believable she snuggled up closer to him.


He set his cup down on the round table in front of him before he spilled its contents from his shaking hand. Before he knew what was happening, she had her lips close to his, her soft hand embracing the side of his face. Excitement raced through his body like a freight train. His arms found their way around her, his mouth pressed to hers as he fondled her breast. Desire, need and passion took over. Her shapely body pressed hard against him, her fine female essence filled his brain with lust, love and want.
He tore at his clothes to remove as much of them as he could while his hands searched her to open that silk robe she wore. Her skin, soft silky white and warm with sexual heat felt smooth and wonderful as he swept his hands down her sides to her thighs. Her robe fell to the floor to cover his pants and shirt. She lowered her self down on the sofa and whimpered for him to meet her needs. His hand found the right spot, she moaned with pleasure lifting her hips asking for more. And then he went inside of her--his head swam with pleasure his mind in ecstasy. She held her arms around him for a long time before they sat upright on the sofa. A little heart shaped ruby pin sat on the table next to the sofa. She picked it up and handed it to him. "Here I want you to have this, a token of my love." He took the pin, stared at it for a few second before he put it in the pocket of his jacket on the floor.
He had to see her again and she agreed to have him visit any time. After a strong cup of hot tea, he left her and drove directly home. Any work he had scheduled for the day would be delayed.
Over the next four days, Carlson spent almost all his time with her, making love to her, falling


in love with her. The excitement of her--her outstanding beauty, the unbelievable sex had him neglecting everything else in his life including his work. All he wanted was to be with her. Even at night in his bed, he imagined being with her. It no longer mattered how this all came about, he just
wanted to be with her, make love to her, feel her soft body next to him.
By the end of the week he had spent every day since Monday with Lillian. Friday morning he rose early to get on the road to her house before the morning rush. With Thanksgiving coming along in the following week he knew he would have to spend some time at his parents house with the family and wanted to have as much time with Lillian as he could before the holiday. Still in the back of his mind he had wonders of how this all happened but while it did he would not question it.
A cold breeze blew across the front of the house as he approached the door and rang the bell. Winters prelude held the day with cold drizzling rain. He clutched at the collar of his jacket to pull it up around his neck as he waited for her to answer the door. He paused before ringing the bell a second time and peered in the narrow window high on the door but couldn't see anything but the wide staircase to the second floor. Early, he thought, she may be sleeping. But he rang the bell again.
Finally the door opened but the woman, maybe in her mid to late fifties on the inside was not Lillian. She wore a robe and slippers and looked like he may have woke her up from sleep.
"Yes, what is it?" She asked as she held the inside door open.
Through the storm door he looked at her shocked, "I'm here to see Lillian. Is she all right?"
"I'm sorry but Lillian passed away this past Monday night. The wake was yesterday and the


funeral is today. Are you a friend?"
His jaw dropped, "How could that be?" Was all he could say as he stared at this woman who just told him his newly found love had died four days ago.
"I'm sorry but it was sudden, my mother died in her sleep."
He couldn't speak, all he could do was stare at her.
Behind her came a voice that sounded much like Lillian's. He strained to see who stood some feet in back of this woman at the door. "Ma, who is it?"
"It's someone who knew Grandma," the woman shouted.
A young lady looking much like Lillian walked up to the side of the woman and peered out at him. "How did you know my grandmother?"
His speech hindered by stuttering as he looked at the likeness of Lillian in this pretty young woman had him searching for an answer. "I tuned her piano."
"Oh, that explains those tools you left here. Why don't you come in out of the cold and have a cup of coffee. I just put a fresh pot on." She smiled with that same welcoming smile he saw in Lillian.
"Thank you; I could use a nice cup of coffee." He entered the house, went to put his keys in his jacket pocket and felt something…the heart shaped ruby pin. A chill ran down his spine but he followed the beautiful young woman to the parlor without taking the pin out of his pocket.


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