Ever since we first met, she had been a bit cool and aloof; no, make that cold. Her daughter Debbie and I had dated for close to a year before getting married. I was 21 years of age, she was 24; second marriage for her, first for me. Maybe the old bitch never liked the fact that I wasn't a doctor or lawyer, or some highly paid professional. Nope, I was just a regular guy working in the retail clothing business. But I made a decent living and between my earnings and Debbie's income as a hair dresser, we lived comfortably. In fact, with a few wise, early investments, and several promotions at work, we managed to raise our two kids, put them through college, and send them both out into the world with a good start.
Now, in our early 40's, we were living comfortably in a spacious new home in south Florida with a separate, but connected casita, or mother-in-law suite. I had planned on using this room for my hobby room. I collect and restore musical equipment. That plan worked beautifully until my mother in law, age 67, came to live with us. Her husband had died seven years ago of cancer, and she lived alone up north until recently when her health started to become an issue. Debbie, an only child, thought it would be best if her mother moved in with us so she could help care for her. Even though Edith, her mother, and I were never close, I knew she was right. And, after some initial, bitching about her cold, miserable, mother, I agreed. She hadn't been given the nickname "Ice Queen" for nothing, and Debbie knew it. We would often kid about the attitude I received from her mother over the years. Nobody really understood it. The lady was just cold!
Edith and I got along well enough; we just weren't chummy. Her late husband and I, on the other hand, shared a lot of good times and cold beer as Debbie and I often took them on vacation with our family. On the other hand, Edith and I had very few conversations, and when we did it always brief. We pretty much kept to ourselves. In all the years we had shared as family, we never had any close personal contact. We would exchange an occasional peck on the cheek at Christmas or some other holiday, very cold, or a hug that appeared to come from across the room, like I had some disease she didn't want to catch! But, all in all, the new living arrangement was pretty easy to deal with. Edith would help clean up the main house and also cooked most of the meals so she was a big help to Debbie. She would occasionally sit and watch TV with us for a while in the evening, then retire to her suite for the night. This pattern played out on a regular basis for over a year before a major change took place.
One Saturday morning, Edith had come in to the main house walking like a zombie. She could barely move her upper body. Apparently, she had slept in an awkward position and the result was a terribly stiff neck. I was immersed in a bowl of cereal and the newspaper so I hardly noticed, but between Debbie and her mother going on about it, I was finally dragged into the scene. Debbie had a full day scheduled at the parlor and suggested that her mother try soaking in a hot bath and using a heating pad on her neck to alleviate the pain.
"And if you ask nicely" she quipped, "maybe Michael will massage your neck for you. He has such wonderful hands;" she offered, giving me a wink and a smile, knowing that her mother would rather have a root canal than have me actually get anywhere near her.
When breakfast was finished, everyone headed to their respective tasks. Debbie left for work, I had the day off and was refinishing an old saxophone in a spare bedroom that I converted after Edith's arrival, and "Ma" as I occasionally called her was in her suite soaking her aching neck.
At around 11:00, I walked into the kitchen to get a cold beer and thought about taking a dip in the pool to cool down a bit. Edith had come in shortly before to brew another cup of tea. She was still moving very gingerly. The bath and heating pad had obviously not been very effective. Trying to be polite, I asked her if there was anything I could do to help.
"Maybe if you rubbed some ointment into your neck it just might bring you some relief. I'd be glad to get some for you. In fact I'll even rub it in for you if you like?" I asked thinking there was no way she would accept.
To my utter surprise she paused, looked at me and said; "you know Michael that might be a big help. I have some of that icy hot muscle rub in my room. Are you sure you won't mind putting some on my neck for me? I don't think I can stand this pain any longer."
I assured her that at the very least; it wouldn't get any worse and said "I'll meet you there in a couple of minutes" as I finished my drink and started cleaning up in the kitchen. She slowly shuffled off to her room, tea in hand.
When I walked over to her suite several minutes later, she greeted me at the door and ushered me in. She turned and made her way to a padded arm chair, sat, sipped her tea and looked absolutely miserable. The jar of muscle ointment was on a small table at her side. I walked around behind her and asked if she was ready to get started. She said "yes, but please go easy, I'm afraid you'll hurt me."
"Nonsense" I said. "I'll be as gentle as a kitten and if it hurts too much just say the word and I'll just stop." Although, the thought of wringing her neck as opposed to massaging it did briefly enter my mind.
I told her to; "just try to relax as much as possible and let me know if it becomes too uncomfortable."
I slowly started to work the ointment into her neck. She sat stiffly in that chair and cried out a bit as the pain shot through her. I noticed the knots in the muscles there and kept telling her to try and relax as it would greatly help with her pain if she weren't so tense. I gradually worked my way down between her shoulders and was working on the area there but with some difficulty as her ever present cotton house dress was restricting my movement.
She finally said "You know Michael that really does feel better already. I appreciate you for doing this for me."
"No problem ma," I'm here to help" I said as I moved away to wipe my hands, thinking I was finished.
"Michael, would you mind terribly if I asked you to continue for another minute or two?"
"Sure, not a problem" I replied. So I started back in where I left off.
"Ma," I said after a couple of minutes, "if you unfasten a couple of those top buttons, I can get between your shoulders without getting this ointment all over your gown. You seem to have a great deal of tension built up in that area."
She hesitated before asking; "do you really think so?"
"It's up to you Edith, I can stop now if you like" I calmly replied. And with that she reached up to unbutton the top two buttons and then slid the gown barely off her shoulders allowing me a little better access to her neck and shoulders. I took the liberty to slide her bra straps down and off of her shoulders and she immediately started to protest.
"You don't want this greasy stuff all over your clothing now do you?" I asked.
