I sighed. I had a job that paid well. As a hard-working member of the federal government (don't laugh: not all government jobs are cushy make-work types), the head of the regional office (and that was as high as I was going to get: I had no desire to actually move to Washington, D.C.), I was pretty much set financially. In fact, I could retire in six months and with the pension I would get and the money I had already saved (I'm very frugal and live modestly), I'd have enough to comfortably live to be 150 without working another day. Pretty good considering I was only 49.
The issue was women. Specifically, the lack of one in my bed... er, life. I'd dated occasionally but just hadn't been able to find anyone to settle with.
My housekeeper, Catalina, who came by for one full day a week (Saturday) to keep my small (one-bedroom, 2-bathroom) house cleaner than any man could (I swear there is a recessive gene on the X chromosome that enables the viewing of molecule-size specks of dirt and dust), made a good person to kvetch to. I owned the house free and clear, for the record. I had picked it because I could buy it outright rather than have to get a mortgage. And I didn't need a huge mansion when it was just me there.
I wasn't vehement about it, but I did let Catalina know my frustrations.
"I understand, Ben. Because I work so much, I also have not been able to find a partner. It does get aggravating."
I asked her how much she worked, trying to be polite.
"Every day except Sunday."
Like me, Catalina was middle-aged. 51, to be exact. I wondered how long she'd be able to keep up the pace, and I said as much.
"I must keep working, Ben. Otherwise I will run out of money."
Catalina may no longer have been young, but she was still quite attractive. Her face had a few small wrinkles, but always bore a smile. A rather charming one. She was slim, but not rail-thin. As near as I could tell, hidden under that drab cleaning outfit was a woman with a decent bust and an ass with enough curvature to be quite sexy. And her skin tone was classic Latina. (Which she was: both her parents were Salvadoran. I, by contrast, am your stereotypical WASP, except that I am atheist: I've seen too many negative things to believe in a benevolent God.)
More importantly, she was someone who over the course of numerous casual conversations over the past 12 years (ever since I bought my house: I had hired her right away) I had gotten to know, and she was kind, caring, and very sweet.
An idea came into my head. I came over to Catalina and whispered to her. We discussed it for a few more minutes, and she smiled.
"As long as you're sure, Ben, I am willing to try."
"I am very sure, Catalina."
So the next Saturday, Catalina did a less intensive clean, finishing at 1 p.m. Afterwards, I sat next to her on the couch, and we watched a lighthearted movie, followed by a classic that had come out before either of us were born. We shared some laughs and held hands.
"Thank you, Catalina. I enjoyed being with you."
"I enjoyed being with you as well."
The next Saturday, she just did a very quick once-over of the house. She was finished by 10:30 a.m., leaving us six and a half free hours. I used what cooking skills I had (I'm not Wolfgang Puck, but living alone, I had to develop some or starve) and made a simple but tasty meal. Catalina was pleasantly surprised.
After eating, we watched two more movies. Neither one of us was a social butterfly type, so watching movies was an easy option.
"Don't bother with the cleaning next Saturday," I told her when she left. "Just come over and spend the whole day with me."
I did my best to keep the house clean that week, so Catalina's cleaning services would be unneeded.
"Not bad for a guy," she told me. "I could have this to my standards in half an hour." And it took her 26 minutes and 38 seconds. So we did, for all intents and purposes, have the whole day.
I took her outside to a clearing in the woods that few people came to, and we lay in the sun and chatted. When we got hungry, we ate the food in the basket I had provided.
"Are you trying to win my heart with food?" Catalina asked teasingly.
"If it's working, then yes."
Catalina giggled and moved her lips to mine for a soft, closed-mouth kiss.
"Thank you for not trying to rush things."