The woman for whom I am house-sitting, whose son and daughter were once students of mine, is a divorcee. Do we still use that term anymore? She cannot take the barrier island community in August, as it is at its most crowded with tourists and, as most of them come from either North Jersey or the Philadelphia area, they are unaccountably rude in everything from standing in line to buy an ice cream cone to stopping for the people in the crosswalks. She bails to head up to her sister's house in Maine each year.
I house-sat for her a couple of times when I was still teaching, especially one summer when I was working on a book. As I've mentioned before, it is a pleasant home, just down the street from the best, post-Hurricane Sandy surf beach, on a tree-lined residential street. My duties are simple: Feed and care for her cat, who is a true gentleman who gets used to me being there after about three days; let in the fellows who are installing the new kitchen cabinets, and monitor the chlorine level in the swimming pool. Not bad.
In return, I have a place to stay for five weeks and a small compensation. That latter bit was added, perhaps out of pity, during my post-retirement widower-ness, but it has been appreciated.
Well, until last night, as things got a little more complicated. As I've said, the home owner and I have known one another for several years, but during our dinner together we seemed to suddenly become aware of the fact that I was a man and she was a woman and neither of us had anyone with a particular claim to our affections anymore and that, as we are of approximately the same age, could indulge in intimacy that was gloriously free of complication. Taking money from her right now seems a bit odd.
Anyway, the company of a woman is rather nice and an aspect that I have missed in the last couple of years, although I still feel that, in a small way, I'm betraying my late wife, it was more the exercise of a friendship rather than the expression of a great romance.
Well, when things get too complicated, it's best to go surfing. Or swimming, as it's raining and there are no waves of which to speak. Still, a simple, exhausting swim in the sea, aided by a spring wetsuit, is just the ticket, especially since the homeowner is still here and will be sleeping for awhile. After some water and a cup of coffee, I'll go for run, return and make breakfast and feel oddly domestic for a morning or so.
