THE FIRST PHONE CALL:
It started, remarkably enough, for Ruth Wilson with a phone call. It was still a bit early. She didn't have a shift -- Ruth was a nurse at the local medical center -- until that afternoon, beginning at 3 PM. She had gotten coffee and was sipping a cup of it, after her shower. She felt in a 'lounging' kind of mood today, and wasn't in a hurry particularly. At present she was dressed only in a pair of pink panties -- waist high, no fancy pants for Ruth, at least not for a long time -- and a matching lacy bra. She sipped her coffee, thinking about her day, when the phone rang.
"I'm watching you!" came a man's voice over the phone.
"What?" Ruth, said, almost explosively.
"I said, 'I'm watching you'," the voice said again.
"Who is this?" she demanded to know.
"Actually, I'm a neighbor," he said, "And I only began my call that way to get your attention."
(Ruth Wilson, still pretty at 51 years, was not a person to back off, when confronted by issues. That was one of the reasons why she was such a good nurse. She was equal to about any situation that came along. She was a widow, and was slowly working on getting over her Ray's death, some 11 months previously, when she'd nursed him through cancer.
She'd taken time, over the ensuing months to try to keep in shape and not let her life's tragedy tempt her into slovenliness or any kind of overindulgence that might be harmful. Though firmly in what might be considered or called 'middle age', Ruth was still a willowy kind of gal. She was tall, at 5'10", and kept her 125 lbs under control, at times with great effort. She did work out, and her form, 36d breasts, and a heart shaped butt, that was always her Ray's pride and joy, was still pleasing.)
But just then she was both challenged and kind of outraged.
"A neighbor making this kind of phone call?" she said, "I'm not sure why you aren't humiliated to admit this. How long have you been watching me?"
"Well," the voice said, "Only a day or two but I really thought that I should make a call and warn you that leaving your shades open was kind of providing 'showtime' for the neighbor kids."
"You must be kidding about this! Who is this?" she demanded.
"Kidding," he said, "No, I don't think so."
"Prove it!" she said.
"Okay," he said with a twinkle in his voice. "Right now you're wearing panties and a bra only. Color is pink."
"Easy enough guesses," she said, "How do I know that you mean it."
"Bra is lacy and not plain!" he said.
"Still not really convinced," she murmured.
Just then, she ran her finger through her short, dark brown hair.
"You just ran your fingers through your hair," he said next, "It's short and dark brown."
"Ohhhhh!" she said. "Are you using binoculars? Are you a peeking freak?" Her voice was challenging.
"No, not really a freak," he said. "I just happened to notice, when out in my garden; the angle into your bedroom from over here makes it easy to see right into your room, when the sun is out. And of course, in the evening, when you have the light on, it's ShowTime!"
"Stop your giggling and laughing!" she said, just barely suppressing a giggle herself.
(She didn't know why she wasn't totally outraged by this but she wasn't.)
"You're giggling there yourself," he said.
"Am not!" she said, in a petulant voice.
"Even your voice tells me that you got caught giggling," he said.
"Pervert!" she said.
"Maybe!" was his reply, "But I wanted you to know that at times, the local young kids, a few of the neighborhood boys, two I know of and one I suspect, are watching you also. They have a kind of binocular club, I hear."
(Between their houses, in that neighborhood, was a kind of overgrown, wild area of tress, and various shrubs.)
"Oh dear!" she said now, "Believing what he was saying."
"Thank you for mentioning that," she said.
"My pleasure," was his response.
"But if I take your information seriously," she went on, "I'll ruin all your fun!"
"Yes, I know, drat!" he said, and laughed.
She actually laughed too.
"You're fun to play with!" he said.
"Is that why you called?" she asked, "To play with me?"
"Well, no," he said, "It was mainly to be neighborly and let you know about the binocular club that meets locally."
"When?" she asked, "Do you know?"
"Well," he explained, "Mainly in the early evening, I guess when you've come back from work on a certain shift."
"Yes," she said, "I know which shift. I'll have to watch."
"Yes, you will!" he said.
"Who is this?" she demanded to know then.
"It's John Tennison," he said, "I live across from you."
"And you watch me!" she said, "And apparently the neighborhood."
"Now, don't be accusing me of things, when I'm being nice here!" he said.
"Nice?" she snorted, "Do you recall how you began this conversation?"
He laughed, "Yes," he said, "I wanted to be sure that I got you attention right away."
"Yes, you did that," she said, "And I almost hung up right away."
"I was depending on your curiosity," he said.
"So, you do watch things pretty much around here?" she asked.
"Well," he explained, "I am a writer and I write in my study, which is in the back of my house. It has a wall of glass looking out onto the wooded area, where, by the way, the binocular club meets, when the chance is there, and I can see the whole panorama of the neighborhood."
"Including me in my panties and bra!" she said.
"Well, that's the nice part of it lately, and you see, I am ruining for myself, as a friendly gesture," he said.
"Yes," she said, barely suppressing a laugh, "A friendly gesture."
"And I use the binoculars for watching birds," he said, "I am a bird enthusiast. You can see the feeders that I have and the amount of time I spend feeding."
"Yes, I'm sure that's what the binoculars are for!" she said, laughing then.
"Well, until now!" he said.
"Are you looking at me now?" she asked.
"Yes, you're waving your fingers at me!" he said.
"I'm putting the phone on speaker so that I can put some clothes on," she said then.
"Show's over for today?" he asked pleasantly.
"You are a handful, John Tennison!" she said.
"Why, thank you," he said, "And you are, forgive me for saying this if it is still too close to your husband's death, but you are beautiful!"
"Now I'm blushing!" she said.
"I know!" he said.
"Stop that!" she said into the phone and put a robe on.
"Drat!" was his next response.
"Serves you right!" she said, "You could have just kept quiet and enjoyed the fruits of your ill-gotten little scheme!"
"Yes," he said, "But then the binocular club would have still been functioning, and I don't want that for you. And I wouldn't have had the chance to tell you that I think you're beautiful!"
"Thank you," she said, and then, in a soft voice, "Especially, thank you for what you said."
"I don't want to be inappropriate here," he said.
She hooted again. "But isn't that the very basis for this phone call in the first place?"
He ended up laughing with her at that point.
"What do you write?" she asked, changing the subject.
"I write romance novels under the name Brenda Freefall," he said.
"Oh, I've seen those! Though I don't read that kind of literature," she said.
"Well, thank you at least for calling it literature!" he said with a laugh. "And that reminds me, my schedule calls for me to put in a couple of hours now to write."
"Well, thank you, I think," she said, "For the phone call."
"You're welcome!" he said.
Then she moved to the French doors that led from her bedroom to the balcony. She waved at him, and saw him wave back.
She'd gotten over the initial shock of what he'd said, when he first called and surprised herself with the feeling of having enjoyed their conversation. She also knew how much he had enjoyed shocking her with the call. She sensed that, and a thought ran across her mind.
"You wouldn't, Ruth Wilson!" she said.
"I would," she answered herself, and with him still watching, just having waved at her, she took off her robe, threw it over her shoulder and, in her panties and bra, walked out of the room.
"Take that!" she said.
Then the phone rang.
"I knew it!" she said to herself.
"Thank you!" he said into the phone, "Beautiful, like I said!" Then he simply hung up.
"Okay, coffee, and thinking time, Ruth," she said.
WORKING IT THROUGH:
That afternoon, after getting everything under control on the nursing floor where she worked, Ruth sat down, in the nurses lounge area, with her pal Judy Woods. She and Judy were 'besties'. They gone to school together since the early grade school grade and had done their nurses training together. In fact, Judy had been Ruth's main support during those terrible times, especially nights, after Ray had finally succumbed to the cancer. That was never far from Ruth's mind and was an integral part of their relationship.
"Wait 'til I tell you what happened today!" Ruth said.
"Oh, something exciting?" Judy asked. "You need something exciting in your life, Ruth!"
"Exciting, I guess!" Ruth said.
She went on then to explain the phone call, how it had started, the message about the local 'binocular club' and the way the rest of the conversation had gone.
"Wow!" Judy said, "Spectacular! And good information to have."
.... There is more of this story ...