Sally has been the chairman of our local "Walk for Breast Cancer Research" for the last few years. She is prim and proper in public. Her excellent business skills, efficiency and serious nature gets her appointed to run everything she gets involved in. I became enamored with her about four years ago. She was about forty then and separated from her verbally abusive alcoholic husband. We dated off and on for a year while she was back and forth living with him. They separated again, about three years ago and she moved in with me for a few months. She turned out to be hot, wild and to have a submissive streak. I was getting serious; I even had a secret ring I had purchased for her. Sure I knew she was still officially married, but I wanted her to know I wanted to be with her and help make her life more fun. It was not to be. Sally went back to her guy. I was crushed. I chose to be alone and speed up my very early retirement plans.
At fifty, my business was successful, took almost all my waking hours and I had been working that way since I was sixteen. It was time to sell out and live a little. A few months ago, my business sold for an insane amount of cash and future payments. The new owners were still phasing in. When it was mine, each year the company had made one single five digit donation to a local charity – it was good for the local community and good for business taxes. The final donation under my control, I had decided to give to Sally's cause. Her mother had gone through a double mastectomy and Sally went through a scare right before she lived with me.
Sally's carefully chosen week-end had worked perfectly for three years, but this year was a disaster. Friday night, many displays were already set up inside the oval at the high school's outdoor track, the local radio station had put up their booth and inflated their massive gorilla, a hot air balloon was ready to give free tethered rides and the silent auction items were lined next to the grandstands. Fireworks had been donated and wired for the band and dancing on Saturday night. Several thousand people were expected over the weekend. Even the local forecasters missed the severe late summer rain storm that formed unexpectedly right over our area to drench both Saturday and Sunday.
As I walked from my car Saturday morning, people were scrambling in the gusty wind and rain to break down displays, save literature and donated auction items. I could tell that the theme of this year's walk had been carried out beautifully. It was to have been an "Old Time Fair," complete with blue ribbons for the best home grown vegetables, a dunking tank for county officials, a wagon for hayrides, baked goods and a kissing booth. Many of the women had dressed in colorful, full skirts with lots of slips, and had worked to copy old time hair styles.
Sally was scurrying around, frantically, at the event's office tent, adjacent to the kissing booth. Her hair was losing its curl, her face and outfit had been peppered with rain and she looked absolutely gorgeous to me. When she saw me, she instantly seemed willing to let everything else go.
"Will, for months, I've tried and tried to call you, so many times."
"I sold the business and my house. I've been traveling and living on the boat when I'm here. I'm sorry about the horrible weather messing up your event. You are as beautiful and desirable as ever."
Several people heard my sincere compliment; she blushed and slipped back into business mode. "It is such a shame. We are all heart sick that we won't make any money for cancer research this year."
"Step over here, in the Kissing Booth." She followed, ducking under the low overhang of the open sides of the booth. For the moment, the rain was coming straight down but the drops were large and noisy on the canvas. "Give me a kiss for old times' sake."
The kiss was almost proper for being in public. I whispered, "You are still wonderful with your lips." I put a hundred dollar bill in the empty glass donation jar. An old wrinkled hand attached to a big smile and a playful voice reached for the jar and said, "Kiss him again, Sweetie, we need the money." I laughed; so did, Sally. When I pulled out another hundred from my wallet, her eyes sparkled. This kiss was much better. I handed the rain spotted hundred to the reaching wrinkled hand.
