Ten years ago I’d be embarrassed to be this slow, I thought. Back before I’d lost my foot, anything over six-and-a-half would be unacceptable to me. Even ten years ago I’d have been unhappy with anything over eight.
I eyed the crops in our fields coming up in the early morning summer sun as I ran. Jill and I weren’t that into farming. We kept a big vegetable and herb garden near the house for our own use, as well as some fruit trees, but after Dad passed we didn’t want the hassle of plowing, seeding and harvesting. What with raising Eric, my career as a training pilot for Virginia Life Flight and Jill managing a dozen people at her graphic design company, we just had too much going on. So we leased the fields to the farmer next door.
Mr. McCready had wanted to plant only corn, but Dad had taught me better than that. We had three fields and we only leased him two at a time. A condition of the lease was that he planted corn in one, soybeans in another and a cover crop to be plowed under in the third. We’d rotate the fields every year so as to not wear out the soil by planting the same crop over and over. We leased it to him at half of what he’d pay someone else so he was happy enough with the arrangement that he paid for the cover crop seed.
I finished my third mile lap, and was debating whether to go around again when I saw that the curtains over the big picture windows to the great room had been opened, which meant Jill was up. I climbed the steps to the big porch and was greeted by the smell of coffee when I opened the door.
“Thank god, bean juice!” I exclaimed as I joined my wife in the kitchen. She was wearing a t-shirt that barely covered her ass and white ankle socks. My weakness. She handed me a cup, black, but I knew she’d have sugar in it for me. I took a sip.
“Perfect, thanks Blue.”
“I still have no idea how you can finish a run and drink hot coffee. All I want is a gallon of ice water when I run.”
“Gotta top off my aviation fuel.”
She rolled her eyes at me. “If you say so. Want some breakfast? I’ll make you some eggs.”
“Nah, think I’ll have a grapefruit today.” I opened the fridge and took one out of the produce drawer. “Farmer’s market after?”
“Nope. I have other plans.”
“Yeah? Like what?” I sliced my grapefruit in half, sat at the breakfast bar and started attacking the slices with a spoon.
“I think someone forgot they lost a bet last night.”
Oh, right. Guess since this is going to be a chore day my brain decided not to devote cells to remembering. Might as well get a jump on it. Maybe I won’t be too tired for a little loving’ tonight, depending on when she has planned.
“Alright. So what are your plans for me today then?”
“That’s for me to know and you to find out. Finish your breakfast while I shower, then it’s your turn. You’re all sweaty.”
“I thought you liked it when I’m sweaty.”
“Sometimes. You need a shower now, though.”
She left and I resumed eating, shaking my head. I’d really hoped this weekend would be a hot one. It was the first time we’d had an entire weekend to ourselves since last summer. I wondered if maybe we were getting too old to spend a whole weekend naked. The thought made me sad.
I finished and cleaned up the dishes. Jill had left me hers to clean (since I was at her beck and call for the weekend, I assumed) then drained my coffee, got a refill and headed to the bedroom. Jill was in the bathroom, wrapping a towel around herself. She’d braided her thick blue hair and done up her makeup.
“Today’s going to be so much fun!” she said happily as she breezed past me into our bedroom.
“I bet,” I growled, as good naturedly as I could manage.
I set my coffee next to my sink, reached in and turned on the shower.
“Hurry love, we have things to do!”
I dumped my running clothes into the hamper and got in the shower. A minute later Jill came back.
“You won’t be needing these,” she said loud enough for me to hear over the water. I rinsed the shampoo suds off my face with the shower and through the foggy glass I saw her collect the jeans and t-shirt I’d set on the counter to wear. “When you get done, your clothes for today are on the bed. And only those clothes. Got me Chief?”
I raised my eyebrows. “Yes ma’am.” Jill never called me by my old rank from the Army unless she really wanted me to take her seriously.
“And don’t forget to shave. No stubble on my Jo, please.” She waltzed out of the bathroom as I felt my eyebrows trying to crawl into my hair.
Well, well, well. Maybe today will be interesting after all.
I sat on the stool we had in the shower for just such a use and carefully and thoroughly shaved my legs. After a moment’s consideration, I shaved off the landing strip of pubic hair I usually sported. I didn’t go bare that often, but when I did Jill was usually… appreciative. After I dried off, I hopped out and put on my prosthetic foot then went to the bedroom.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I muttered.
There were two small pieces of fabric on the bed, next to a pair of running socks, my cross trainers and nothing else. I picked up one of the pieces of cloth and immediately recognized an outfit I’d worn only a couple of times back when I’d entered a few local body-building competitions years ago. It was a pair of very short boy shorts and a very small and thin athletic bra, teal colored in a heather pattern.
Well, it’s her weekend after all, and I did make her wear that French maid outfit last time. I know my CrossFit look gets her rotor spinning.
I pulled on the bra then opened my underwear drawer, only to find a yellow sticky note on top of my collection of boy shorts underwear. The note had Jill’s handwriting on it in black sharpie.
I said only what’s on the bed. No cheating.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I said again. I pulled on the bottoms and turned to look in the full length mirror in the corner.
Definitely older, I thought. I ran my hand over my stomach. The washboard abs I’d had when Jill and I met were a thing of the distant past. I still had plenty of power in my legs and shoulders. In fact, my quads still looked great (in my humble opinion), due to my refusal to ever skip leg day at the gym. But I was a little thicker around the middle now. I’d come to terms with it, but this outfit left very little to the imagination.
Good thing I shaved this, I thought running my hand over my mound. The fabric was tight and thin enough you’d have been able to tell if I had a bush. I put on the cross trainers and went to find Jill. There was another sticky note on the kitchen counter.
Come find me. Lock up when you leave.
I snorted. I was getting the feeling this was going to be a good weekend after all, even if I had no idea what was up.
My keys had been moved from the hook by the door, so I had no choice but to flip the lock on the knob and pull the door shut behind me, making sure it was all the way closed, then went off in search of Jill. She wasn’t in the barn, my first guess. Nor was she in our guest cabin or around the back of the house. That left only one other place I could think of, unless we were going to play hide and seek in the woods.