Swamped FoxChapter 3
- 4 years ago
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Swamped FoxChapter 2 free porn video
Woke up. I like my bed. I stretched out on clean sheets, hyperextending my feet, then turned sideways to stand up. Remembered that I had a house guest, so my normal morning routine of shuffling through the place while wearing my drawers and T-shirt is not going to happen.
Shorts. I drag on a pair of work pants. Yeah, I know – regular fashion icon, that’s me. And I’m in the kitchen to make myself some coffee. That’s my morning routine. It involves grinding some beans for the French press.
That’s when Mimi showed up, clad in yesterday’s clothes. We’d run hers through the laundry. I’m still disturbed by the sight of her in my pajamas last night.
“Geez, Mimi,” I said. “We need to get you where you can get a change of clothes.”
“Whenever, Buddy. Can you perhaps make enough coffee for two?”
“I can indeed. How do you like it? Black? Cream? Sugar?”
“Yes.” She eyed my preparations. Okay, I’m a bit of a fanatic about coffee. The water boiled. I poured it over the grounds in the press, stirred, put the top on, then turned.
Mimi was watching, amused. “I bought a Keurig,” she said.
“I’ve tried ‘em,” I replied. I get more control over the process with this.”
“It’s more work.”
“‘Course it is. But I really like my coffee this way. Now, what about breakfast? You have a preference?”
She looked thoughtful. “I’d die for a sitdown breakfast ... sausage, grits, eggs, like that.”
“I know the place. Fix your coffee. Travel mugs in the cabinet. Top shelf. I’ll go get my shoes.”
By the time I got back, she was stirring her coffee. I sat down to put my shoes on.
“If you trust me to fix your coffee...”
“That’d be nice.”
“How do you like it?”
“Cream and sugar.”
“I make mine sweet,” she said.
“That’ll work. I started drinking coffee by stealing sips from my great-grandmother. Old Cajuns like their coffee sweet.”
I was tying the last shoelace when she handed me my mug. “This is darned good coffee, Buddy,” she said. “I’m really surprised.”
“I like my coffee,” I said. “C’mon. We’ll drink it in the truck.”
“Sure,” she said.
She gave me a little smile when I opened the truck door for her. I walked around the front and got in the driver’s side. I felt a sort of twinge in my left calf when I put my weight on it to get into the truck. Little ache. Nothing horrendous, so I wrote it off.
“Nice. You’ve been nothing but nice to me, Buddy.”
“I’m like that with everybody. You should’ve noticed that yesterday.”
“Yesterday’s a blur. Nothing like getting shocked awake by water in your bedroom.”
“I can imagine.”
“At least I was able to get all my important stuff together.”
“Very organized,” I remarked.
“I’ve just been there a couple of months since MY divorce.”
“Oh. Sorry to hear...”
“Don’t be,” she sighed. “I’m better off for it. I doubt that HE is, but at this point I have ceased to care.”
“There’s a story there, I’m sure. If you need a disinterested party to listen...”
“Why should I drag YOU down?”
“Sometimes it’s cathartic to talk about things...”
Smile. “Look at YOU! ‘Cathartic’!”
“Oops! I try not to slip up.”
“College?” she asked.
“Bachelors in electrical engineering.”
“Wow! That’s tough.”
“Says the lady with a degree in nursing. They don’t give those out because you took an expansive view of Chaucerian effect on the modern romance novel.”
“Pays better than being able to summarize the Canterbury Tales, too.”
Breakfast was pleasant. The eatery I chose was familiar to me, notable for a good southern breakfast. After I paid the bill over her protests, we walked out. It was pushing nine o’clock, so we swung by a few shops for her to get things she needs. I followed. Darned right I followed. She’s a nice looking, self-assured, intelligent woman, something worth hanging close to.
She was giving a credit card a workout. Think about it. Everything she had left came with her in that backpack, so I turned my head while she bought panties and bras, added thoughtful nods at her selection of jeans and informal blouses, smiled and shook my head at her purchase of a dress ensemble. We worked our way to a shoe store. I watched her buy some tasteful and very practical pumps and a pair of athletic shoes. She added a couple of pair of shorts and some good T-shirts.
“What I wear around the house or when I’m out knocking around,” she told me.
The last stop was a store catering to the uniformed crowd, where she picked up three sets of scrubs. “So I can go to work. Whenever I get back home. Or wherever I land...”
Walking back to the truck, she noticed my gait. “Buddy, you’re favoring your left leg. Something wrong?”
“I don’t think so, but it feels kind of funny. I’ll look when I get home.”
“You were in the water yesterday. There are probably bacteria the size of pencil erasers floating around out there, Buddy. I’ll look at it. Do you have some antibiotic stuff?”
“I’ve got some in my first aid kit,” I said.
“I figured you’d be prepared.”
By the time we got back home I was noticing more discomfort from that left thigh. Curious. When I got out of the truck and put weight on it – definitely some tenderness. I noted that Mimi was paying attention.
“You get inside and let me see that leg.”
“Yes, ma’am. Let me go change into some shorts.” I disappeared into the bedroom, discovering that hyper-extending my foot to get out of my slacks and into cargo shorts caused enough pain to make me wince. Furthermore, that calf was obviously swollen, with interesting colors developing around a minuscule scratch on my calf.
“Mimi, you wanna come look at this thing?”
“Sure,” she yelled back. “As long as this isn’t some sad ploy to get me into your bedroom.”
“Come on, knothead. This leg’ll make it worth your trip.”
She rounded the corner as I stood there. “Damn!” she blurted. “Lay on the bed.”
“As long as my chastity is safe,” I said.
She snorted. “We’re even on the smart-assed remarks now. Lay on your stomach. Let me look at that calf.”
I winced when she probed the area around the little cut.
“Definitely infected. It’s hot. Swollen. You should see a doctor.”
“Nah ... put some antibiotic ointment on it. It’ll be okay tomorrow...”
“I really think you should see a doctor.”
“I’m not going to the doctor for this thing, Mimi. It’s a scratch. It got infected. There’s a first aid kit in the cabinet underneath the vanity in my bathroom.”
“Okay, hardhead,” she said. “Against my better judgment.” She left and returned with the first aid kit, opened it. “Well, you do get points for being well prepared. Now...”
In a matter of minutes I was fixed up. “We’ll look at it again later. You said you could get me on line?”
“Yep. Laptop or desktop?”
“Laptop.”
“Let’s go in the living room.”
I gave her my MacBook.
“I’m a Microsoft person...”
“This isn’t going to kill you. Apple didn’t get where they are by alienating the unfortunate,” I said. “Seriously, I use Windows at work. I just prefer this at home.”
“I will figure it out. It can’t be that different.”
“It isn’t. Especially if you’re using a web browser.”
“Email. Can I set up this thing to get MY email?”
“Sure.”
In half an hour, I was in the kitchen, favoring my left leg a bit, tossing a little of this, a little of that together to make a meal, just like Mom and Grandma showed me. After a while I thought I felt a presence. I turned, saw Mimi watching me.
“Francis? Seriously? Francis Marion?”
“Dad was into history. Francis Marion was...”
“The Swamp Fox. From the American Revolution.”
“You KNOW that? How?”
She smiled. “Do you HONESTLY think my real name is ‘Mimi’? It’s short for Marian. As in ‘Frances Marian’. Mom was a history teacher.”
“Dad was a history teacher. He took his subject seriously. I’ve been to dozens of Civil War battlefields. Saw Chalmette where Jackson and Lafitte fought the British in the Battle of New Orleans.”
“You too, huh...”
“I didn’t resent it. I thought Dad was the coolest dad around. So was Mom.” There it is, that little catch in my throat as I remember Mom passing on, then Dad, a year later.
“I wish I thought about it then the way I think of it now,” Mimi told me. “It’s hard to show that you think your parents are all that cool, especially when your mom teaches in the school where you’re a student. What are you cooking?”
“After I saw you eat, I figured you’re not a vegan, so this is steak and gravy.”
“That’s cool,” she flipped. “Smells good.” She scanned the kitchen. “Rice cooker. Where’s the rice?”
“Big container in that bottom cabinet below the cooker.”
“I can do this,” she said. “One cup or two?”
“If you do two, we get leftovers.”
“Two it is, then. Leftovers are great, especially something like THAT. Flavors develop.”
“I always thought that. Bein’ a single guy, I end up with lots of leftovers. Got stuff in the freezer, but ... You’re here. Thought we might do a decent meal. How’s your stuff going?”
“I filed a claim with my renter’s insurance carrier. I filed a claim with my car insurance. I emailed my employer ... I was an agency nurse. It’s not like – well, with the flood, I’m not the only one that’s off line.”
“What do you think you can salvage from your apartment?”
“Pots and pans. Dishes. Flatware. The contents of that kitchen drawer that catches all the gadgets. Honestly, past that, everything was under water, will BE under water for at least a few more days, and then it’ll all be wet and covered with mud and whatever else ... Whole place – total loss.”
“I’ve seen it. Friends that got caught in the storm surge of one hurricane or another. I’m far enough inland here that I don’t worry, but others weren’t as fortunate. They lost stuff that’s not recoverable – photo albums, family stuff.”
“That’s one bright spot,” Mimi said. “After Craig and I split up, all that stuff went into a storage unit. I had not yet gotten it out. I’ve only been in that apartment a month and a half.”
“You told me that.”
“I know ... Just thinking of all the new stuff that was in there. Starting up your own place from scratch, there’s a million little things...”
“What’s insurance going to cover?”
“Replacement value. I paid a premium price for it.”
“You have proof?”
“Oh, sure ... you bet I do. It’s all in the file cabinet next to my desk in the apartment.”
“Crap.”
She smiled. “I have Plan B, though. Somebody told me to take pictures. I have pictures. Receipts. Boxes. The inside of the apartment.”
“Sounds like good info. And those pictures?”
“Dropbox. I am technologically advanced. They’re in the cloud.”
“Ahhhh,” I laughed. “A woman with skills.”
Her eyes flashed. “And well you should recognize it.”
Mimi’s turn:
Maybe I need to stop waking up. Day before yesterday – really early – like one in the morning, I woke up because my butt was wet. When I stood up, I was in a foot of water. The lights were out. I’m an RN – registered nurse – and I keep one of those neat little penlight flashlights. One’s always on the night table beside the bed. I grabbed it, verified what my wet feet and my wet back told me. We’d been having rain – a deluge – for the last twenty-four hours. This was the result.
My closet still held dry clothes, as did the top two drawers of my dresser. Let’s see, what does one wear to the end of the world?
Jeans, naturally. My tennis shoes are floating, easy to find. Bra. I don’t have much to flop, but one simply MUST dress. And a top. I spot a nice plain cotton shirt.
Next comes the thinking of what I can take with me. Purse? No ... Backpack? Yesssss! I still have the one I used in college. What goes in it? My wallet with all my credit cards and driver’s license. I also have birth certificate, passport, and a USB drive with a bunch of personal stuff on it. Those go in a big ZipLoc bag that I retrieve from the kitchen because my backpack is water resistant, not waterproof, and it’s STILL raining.
I go out the front door. Well, dummy, if the water’s up to your bed, you can bet your car’s flooded. It was. The porch of the adjoining unit was lit by a flashlight. My neighbors, the Ellises. Mom and seven year old son were on the porch. Another flashlight was at Johnny’s work van. He’s a cable installer, and he has a ladder on the roof rack. That’s how we ended up on the roof, the four of us huddled under a piece of plastic sheeting. Johnny made several trips back into their apartment, hauling out canned drinks and snacks.
Geraldine
- 03.09.2020
- 18
- 0
