Look I’m not always in the best of health. I get my rest and eat well and stuff, but I’m sick more often than I should be, really. I was coming down with something when the Captain came by to visit me at work. We had our third date scheduled that night but I ended up texting him and canceling it.
The next thing I know he called me back asking if I need anything. Well, I did. So I gave him back with an order: some chicken soup would’ve been nice and some cold medicine. Then he asked where I lived so he could deliver it. I was kinda afraid he would see me sick and leave and I’d never see him again, but if that were the case we wouldn’t have lasted anyway.
Like he wouldn’t be coming over sometime anyway. And if he got his rocks off tending to sick girls, I don’t know, I’d deal with that later. I wasn’t worried, though. The Captain is a nice man. A girl can tell these things. He just wanted to care for me. I didn’t fight it; Mom was out of town and I was tired of caring for myself. My Captain made me some soup and got me a bath and basically fussed over me. This made me feel better than any medicine.
It’s the first night we spent together! Very romantic with me sneezing and coughing and going to the bathroom every five minutes! He never left me, though. He was always there. He held my hand and caressed my cheek and tucked me in and went and slept on the couch.
My Captain is such a dork. A tender dork, but still a dork. He wiped the hair from my face, caressed my cheek and called me Angel for the first time. I wanted to weep, but I was nauseous.
Look, I grew up without a father. He fled when I was three, I don’t know if I’ve mentioned that before. Mom had boyfriends and stuff but I never had a daddy to take care of me when I was sick. I never had a dad kiss my forehead and tell me to get better. All mom’s boyfriends did was leer at me, once I started filling out.
He made me call in sick the next day. He made some phone calls and made arrangements for the game he was supposed to referee, or whatever you call it, that night, because I wasn’t getting any better. He rearranged his day so he could get me better.
What really helped was the hot baths me made me take. Really hot. With Epsom salts, which helped, too. After the bath was ready he told me to get in the tub. He said there some towels next to the tub and said if I soaked them and put them on top of me I would feel better.
I had chills and was sore and the hot bath felt great. I did what he told me with the towels and that felt good, too. Then he knocked and asked if the towels were on I said yes and he came in and poured hot water over them. This felt good, too.
I soaked for a long time, at least a half-hour, and he kept the water hot by boiling water on the stove and pouring it in. He turned his head while I got out of the tub and he had a towel for me to dry off and he had one for my hair, too, which was another sign The Captain was a keeper. Then he tucked me in bed with a lot of covers and I was sweating and The Captain said this was good, because it meant I was sweating out toxins and stuff.
The Captain made me feel safe. And loved. A girl needs these things.
Chapter 3: The Captain
Chapter 4: The Captain
The Angel and The Captain Homepage
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Oh boy, I knew Angel was feeling poorly when I saw her that afternoon. Again, I hate to sound like a stalker. I’m not. As demonstrated earlier I merely possess some modest investigatory techniques, but I just happened to be walking by the bank in the corner of the grocery store I shop at and she happened to be there and there was no reason not to stop by and say howdy. Besides, we had plans for that night so I had a pretext, always key in these situations, for stopping by.
Tonight was going to be our third date and I was prepared to get busy in the sack if she was cause that sometimes happens on third dates, but I knew she was coming down with something as soon as I saw her and I wasn’t surprised when she texted and said she couldn’t make it.
Hell, I didn’t want her feeling bad, so I texted her right back asking if she needed anything, and she called me and said yeah, now that I mentioned it, she could use some things because her mother was out of town, so I went and got them and took them over.
I knocked on her door and she answered in some PJs and she looked like crap, honestly. Her hair was a mess and her nose was red from having blown it with a tissue so much. She needed attention. That was plain even to an oaf bachelor like me. She said she had chills and aches and she was coughing and sneezing, had the trots and to show she was really serious, even ralphed twice for good measure. I put her to bed immediately and made her some chicken noodle soup. I took her temperature and she slept for a while and when she woke up I gave her some more soup and more TLC and even gave her some medicine to help her sleep.
When I tucked her in for good I caressed her cheek and called her Angel for the first time. I told her to get better, and I’d be right here all night in case she needed anything.
It occurred to me she may well never had a dad to do these things for her. On our second date, we were at dinner and we talked about our pasts and goals and all other second date crap and she never did mention her father. Her mom, sure. Lots of times. Her mom still lived in town and they talked daily and I think she was her only parent.
She was sick and completely surrendered to me and seemed happy to do it. No, not happy. Relieved is a better word. She seemed, no was, relieved, not to have been caring for herself.
I gave her a bath, too. I can remember having this done for me, a nice hot bath with some Epsom salts thrown in. You get in and then you add some towels. You get them wet and then you lay the towels on top and then you pour hot water over the towels. You sweat and some of the bad stuff sweats out of your body. I had her cover herself with the towels first, then I got a saucepan from her kitchen and used it to pour hot water over her and she tilted her head back and smiled and I could tell she was feeling at least a little better.
I slept on the couch, but not too well at first because I was on the earie for her waking up. I checked up on her though around 2 am and she was sleeping soundly, snoring in the soft way I would later become accustomed to, so I went back to the couch and slept pretty well – our first night together, the classic third date.
She was feeling a little bit better in the morning, so I made her some oatmeal. I didn’t give her too much because we humans are the only animals that don’t instinctively fast when sick and there’s a reason for that, but she was hungry and oatmeal is a better breakfast than chicken soup.
Angel wasn’t completely better though, so I spent the day with her. I made arrangements for someone to cover my basketball game that night and she napped and that afternoon I gave her another bath and she felt well enough that afternoon to watch a movie together which I am counting as our fourth date.
She was feeling a lot better by the evening. The baths helped, plus the soup and medicine, of course, but I think the best medicine was merely us being together. I enjoyed fussing over her and it was plain she enjoyed the fussing. Look, I never had kids. I wasn’t looking for a daughter – eventually, I wanted to a lot of un-daughterly things to her – but that time was not now. Another day. I was rather content caring for her.
The tenderest love.
Chapter 2: Angel
Chapter 3: Angel
The Angel and The Captain Homepage
I’d been to our second date restaurant a lot over the years. Mom and I would come here whenever there was some extra money and the girls and I would come here to talk about boys. I was really glad to see The Captain liked it, too, because the food is really good and there are a lot of memories here.
And I’ll be honest, he was far from the first date who took me there. Boys liked it because they thought it was fancy, but I got the impression The Captain would be taking me to nicer places. Maybe even The Chancellors Room, the five-star restaurant at the luxury hotel in town, though I’ve learned a girl shouldn’t go hoping for stuff like that.
I was worried about to eat! I mean, I liked him even then and I wanted him to like me. I am such a worry-wart! It was obvious he liked me. He paid attention to me and made me feel important and no boy scoped me out like he did. But we girls don’t like to eat too much on the early dates. I mean, what if he thinks I was a hog?!
I really like their chicken fried steak, though. A lot. So when he asked what I was going to have – because The Captain orders for his Angel – I played it coy. I told him I couldn’t decide between some sort of ten-calorie salad or the chicken fried steak.
The Captain didn’t even blink. He asked if I wanted mashed potatoes or French fries and of course, I said mashed potatoes because that is the only proper side dish with chicken fried steak. He asked if I would present violent objection to starting with some mozzarella sticks and those are really good there, too, and I said I would dismiss the matter out of hand, which made him laugh.
I told him about my life.
I was born in town and had always lived here. I didn’t talk about my dad at all, which may have given him a clue I didn’t have one. He bailed on us when I was three. I now know why, but at the time I didn’t because all Mom ever said was being a dad was harder for him than it was for others. When I was in middle school Mom stopped talking about him with her sisters. I’d hear them on the phone and when they visited, though they didn’t talk about him much. It took me a while to realize they weren’t talking about him at all anymore and maybe my dad was dead. I don’t know.
And it doesn’t really matter! The Captain is not my dad; I wanted to do too many things with him, to him, in bed for that. For example, even though he was old enough to be my dad, I wanted this old man to fuck me and eat me out, but maybe not in that order. And I wanted his old man cock shoved down my throat.
From the very start, I felt protected and loved with the Captain. It was more than being attracted to him, which I was. It was a feeling of security that is hard to describe but the feeling is comforting because us girls need that.
I went away for college but I moved back because I like it here. I majored in English with a minor in Rhetoric. People always asked if I was going to be a teacher or a writer, but I said no, I had no desire to do either of those things, I merely enjoy the English language and wanted to know more about it.
I told him it wasn’t all that easy for an English major who had some zero desire to utilize her major to find the type of work that builds a career, but I was still young, even if 30 is getting closer and closer.
The Captain said he had never married, which I thought odd, because I’d always wanted to marry before I was 30. I asked him if he wanted to get married now. I played it off by laughing so he wouldn’t know how serious I was. Because a girl needs a husband and if he was just looking for a twenty-something piece of ass, well, I’d probably give it to him because I wanted him, but you know. I wasn’t looking for something long-term and casual.
Fortunately, he said yes, he was open to a good marriage, which was good to hear because I was, too.
A good second date. His pass was stamped to continue on with the courting process. He was a grown-up, and I was ready to be one, too.
Chapter 2: The Captain
Chapter 3: The Captain
The Angel and The Captain Homepage
Our second date was pretty casual. You need to chat and get to know each other pretty early on because you need to decide if you’re going to invest the time and effort required to build something. And you need to find out if the instincts that led you to ask her out in the first place were any good and you can’t do that at a movie or at the Chancellors Room, which was a – the – five-star restaurant in town.
My instincts, as usual, were trusty. Angel was funny and pleasant and boy, she has always been the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. Her black hair was straight – sometimes, maybe usually, it’s curly – and she was wearing blue jeans and a black sweater, a classic combination I’ve always liked.
So I told her about my life. I was born in a small town and still owned a house there, the house I grew up in. My parents are dead and I rent it out, though I charge a pretty high rent to keep the riff-raff out and it is not always occupied.
I spent some time in the Navy and when I got out went to umpire school. Like most athletic kids, I wanted to be a pro ballplayer when I grew up, but I only had average talent, and I started umpiring little league and other youth sports to earn some cash in high school. I wasn’t very good back then, but I showed up every day and appeared confident, even when I wasn’t, that was half the battle. Most of the battle, actually.
I really liked the Navy, I was a yeoman and I had a knack for pushing paper and could’ve passed a nice career there, but I found out about umpire school and was hooked from the start, so I got out of the Navy after four years.
I had to explain to her about umpire school. It’s where you go if you want to be a major league baseball umpire. There are a couple of them, both in Florida and both starting in January. It’s five weeks long and they start from scratch, presuming you’ve never umpired before. It was pretty confusing the first couple of weeks, but I was willing to work and take instruction and that is half of what they are looking for, and I was one of the top graduates.
After that, they send you to an evaluation program with the top students from the other umpire school and then they pick the ones they want to start in the minor leagues. You start at the lowest level and you work your way up and, generally, one or two from each class will make the major leagues.
I came close. Made it to Triple-A, which is the level right below the big leagues. Spent three years in the International League and then I got released. I still remember the phone call. It came a couple of weeks before the holidays and the head of umpire development for baseball called and said I was no longer a prospect for the major leagues and that I would have to find something else to do next summer.
Oh well. Sure, I wanted to make the big leagues, but I went to umpire school to learn the trade and I learned my lessons well and worked hard and become really good, as good as I could get, really, and that was satisfying.
And that’s what I do now. I officiate for a living. I’m pretty good, and I do college and high school sports and I even still do pro ball as a replacement when someone gets sick or injured. I also run the officials’ association in town. That and a modest income from my folk’s estate keep me from having to get a real job.
I’d never bothered to get married, either. I told Angel that I had come close once and really close another time, but each time something inside said no, this is not what you should be doing with your life right now. I had dreams to chase and I figured when my time came to die I’d better be able to tell myself I went and chased those dreams, instead of taking a flier on them. I mean, I’m hardly a philosopher or anything like that, but what else what I put here for if not try some things and see what I got?
Angel laughed when I told her I’d had a couple of engagements and asked if I was looking to get married now. Even though she laughed I could tell she was serious and I told her yes, I was ready for a good marriage. She tried to be nonchalant about it, but her body language said she was relieved.
Honestly? I was relieved, too. It was only our second date and I was twice her age, but I was relieved she appeared to be open to something permanent, too.
She asked when I’d moved to town and I told her in my early 20’s. I was still in pro ball and always went back to the family home in the off-season but I had gotten tired of small-town life and was ready for someplace new. My season had ended somewhere in Texas and I was driving home and I wasn’t taking the most direct route because I didn’t really want to go home. I had stopped here for a couple of days cause it’s pretty here and the hotel I was staying at was hiring. I’m not one to believe in fate too much, but it seemed like a sign to me, so I talked to the manager, a really cute woman who liked me. I told her I was a professional baseball umpire and, like some people, she thought it was as mysterious as if I’d’ve said “spy” and she said we’d worry about me leaving next spring next spring and the next thing I know I was working the front desk there.
The manager really liked me and she let me stay at the hotel for the week or so it took me to find a place to live and I’ve been in town ever since.
After I told her this she asked me when this was and we did some reckoning and while I don’t recall the exact date I moved here, it was within a week or so of the day she was born.
I thought this might scare her. Age differences aren’t for everybody. In theory, they might be. I mean, what guy my age wouldn’t want a woman half his age, especially a really foxy one? Hubba-hubba. I spent more than one night on the road in the sack with an older woman, usually one who was married and bored. But when it comes down to actually building something meaningful, some common interests, like your 20’s are helpful.
Her manners were perfect! She told me she couldn’t decide between some fish dish or the beef stew – she’d been here many times and liked this place a lot – and I forget what I ended up ordering for her. I’m just glad she has a good appetite and wasn’t afraid to order a good meal.
It was a great second date. I’ve had a lot of second dates over the years and am supremely qualified to make this judgment. My instincts about her were right – I knew we’d be a good couple and the second date confirmed it.
Chapter 1: Angel
Chapter 2: Angel
The Angel and The Captain Homepage
My Captain is such a dork! This was not, is not, how you ask a girl out!
I knew something was up, though. First, he let Mrs. Bagsby cut in front of him so he could visit my window. Second, his transaction could have been completed in his living room.
Good. I was ready for something to be up. He was a handsome older gentleman, which I found highly erotic, but there was something else: he was very polite and he made me laugh, which put him two up on a lot of the boys who ask me out.
I’d always thought of him as The Captain. Everything about him, from his bearing to his stride to his signature screamed command, a scream I was open to hearing, frankly. The Captain always appeared to know exactly what he was about. I was ready for this, too.
He wasted no time, either. I asked him how he was and he said hungry, he was going to lunch and why didn’t I join him?
My stomach froze. I’d been waiting to hear those words for what seemed like an eternity and thought I was prepared to hear them. I said yes and a few minutes later we were sitting in some restaurant, but I’m sure I stammered and sounded like a little girl as I closed my window and went and got my coat. Molly helped me put it on and whispered something in my ear, something about me being myself or remembering to breathe or some crap like that. I nodded. A thousand butterflies had been released in my stomach.
I remember so little about this date it isn’t even funny! You’d think I would because it was the start of our life together, but I felt like an understudy thrust to center stage without sufficient rehearsals! I was in a daze. The man I wanted to ask me out had asked me out and I had like five minutes to prepare for crossing the great line of demarcation in my life. My makeup! My clothes! Fuck, what if my breath stank? What if I bored him? I mean, my boobies and maybe my smile got me in the door, but he’s a distinguished older gentleman, accustomed to women of substance! What if I didn’t make the grade?
Feels city.
My main concern was not sounding like a girl! I mean, I was a pretty younger woman and let’s not kid ourselves, that was a big part of why he asked me out because he scoped me out constantly, but I knew there was something else and I wanted to be woman enough to be at the same table as the Captain. I think I babbled too much, but at the end, he said it had been a lot of fun and he’d like to do it again, though not at the same restaurant which made me laugh.
He was such a dork! He gave me a card and told me to text him so he’d have my number. That’s not the way it’s done, but whatever, I knew a command when I heard one and of course I complied. I made him wait a whole hour though, answering that age-old instinct to play hard-to-get.
Later Molly would point out he let someone cut in front of him and he just happened to show at my teller window right before my lunch break and that the term “stalker” came to mind, but I had returned on schedule and not stuffed in a box, so she supposed he was a good guy.
I laughed. My Captain was merely a man who knew what he wanted: his Angel.
Chapter 1: The Captain
Chapter 2: The Captain
The Angel and The Captain Homepage