I woke up slowly, stretching tentatively, feeling the aches and pains that came from hard work as a roustabout in the oilfields in and around Brea. I staggered out of bed, winced at the effort of pulling on my boxers, then tottered across the room feeling wooden, as if I had no joints. I opened the bedroom door and limped into the hall towards the bathroom.
"Good morning, Brad," said Mrs. Arnold from the breakfast nook.
"Unnh. Morning," I said. I looked towards her, but the blazing sun coming through the sliding glass doors behind her made me squint. I gave a little wave and kept walking towards the bathroom.
"Would you like some breakfast? How about some scrambled eggs with onions and cheese?"
"Sure, thanks," I said. I stuck out an arm to prop myself up against the wall of the hallway.
"What's wrong, Brad?" she said. I held my hand over my eyes to block out the sun. My pupils were adjusting to the light, and I could see her face now, looking at me over the top of her morning newspaper. Looking concerned.
"Nothing," I said. "I'm okay. Just really sore. Tough week at work is all."
"Oh, dear. Is there anything I can do?" She stood up. "Why don't you come in here and I'll find you some Advil."
"In a minute, Mrs. Arnold, thanks. I just need to pee... sorry, use the bathroom first."
She chuckled. "All right," she said, I'll find that Advil while you're... in there."
When I was done, I tottered into the kitchen. Mrs. Arnold held out three Advil caplets and a glass of water. I took the pills, washed them down, and handed the glass back to her. "Thanks," I said.
She was looking at me kind of funny, and I suddenly realized that I had walked out there in my underwear. I looked down at myself; luckily, nothing was hanging out.
"Sorry," I said. "I'm kind of casual this morning, I guess. I'm afraid that I'm used to either being alone or around my family in the morning."
She chuckled again. "Nonsense. I want you to think of me as family. I almost am. I'll be your mother-in-law someday, when you and Beth are married." She looked me up and down. "Boxer shorts are very appropriate wear for a Saturday morning," she said. "I wasn't looking at those. I was just thinking that you're becoming quite the muscular young man. Beth may not recognize you when she comes home."
It was true. While I'd never been a wimp, I'd also never packed on the kind of muscle and tone that I now had after only a few months of working in the oilfields. As a roustabout I got all the grunt jobs, from hoeing weeds in the hot sun to carrying large pieces of metal compressors. The little layer of fat I used to carry was long gone; in its place were muscles I hadn't had before.
My girlfriend Beth was away at college in New York. I'd missed this semester of college because I'd run out of money. In December I had moved back to California temporarily to earn enough to supplement my scholarship. When I'd started school in New York last fall Dad had retired from his job in the oilfields and he and Mom had moved to Idaho, so when I came back I'd had to rent an apartment near Brea. When Beth's mom found out, she insisted that I move in with her to save money. So here I was, sleeping in her guest room.
Mrs. Arnold was thirty-five years old, but looked a lot younger. Mr. Arnold had been a pretty successful lawyer who'd died in a plane crash while on company business. Beth told me that between his earnings and the life insurance and accidental death payout, her mom was pretty well off and didn't have to work. Mrs. Arnold spent a lot of time at the gym and in the beauty parlor, and she looked very good. More like an older sister than a mother.
"I'm going to the gym," said Mrs. Arnold. "I can get you in if you want. You look as though you could do with a little warm-up and stretching."
"No thanks, Mrs. Arnold," I said. "I'm going to do a few laps in the pool and get some sun; that should wake me up. If that's OK."
"Of course, Dear," she said.
After she left I grabbed a beach towel and went out to the pool. Still in my boxers, I dived into the deep end. The cool water woke me up and I started doing the Aussie crawl up and down the length of the pool. I began to feel the blood flowing through my arms and legs, and the painfully tight muscles started to warm up and loosen.
When it felt like enough I climbed out of the pool and dried myself off. The sun felt good on my body. I looked around: the backyard was private; as far as I could tell no neighbors could see in. I stepped out of my boxer shorts, dried my crotch, put the towel down on a lounge chair, and lay down to soak up a little sun. I fell asleep thinking about Beth.
