"If that man was a beach towel, I would get sand all over him."

Janet was the epitome of a “Southern Woman”. We all heard about the legend or mystique of southern women. I didn’t understand it in the beginning, but I was curious. I learned “southern woman” was more aptly defined as ANY woman, who lives in ANY region of the world, from ANY walk of life/color/culture, but a woman who is confident and comfortable in her own skin, can laugh and learn from mistakes, takes pride in her home, blindly defends her children or friends, and most of all, LOVES her man. So, it could really be any woman, describing what most thought were ideal virtues of a woman, it’s just that people in the south were describing such a woman. Ahhh, I get it, now. Sooooo, my girlfriend in upstate NY, or my girlfriend in Idaho, are both…. perfect examples of “southern women”. Got it?
Being a friend to Janet was a joy. I looked up to her, she was about 10 years older than me. I wanted to be like her, and she taught me everything…. about southern womanhood…. she could tell a dirty joke better than a sailor, smoke a cigar, but laugh like a little girl with a contagious lilt in her voice.  Janet was about 5’2″, a size 6, fine looking woman, with short blond hair and and blue eyes. She wore dark blue contacts to make her eyes pop. She collected great estate quality jewelry and was a terrific cook. After going through a brutal divorce, with her kids grown and now in college, Janet became a pharmaceutical rep. She started her life over again and had nothing left to prove. This time, she meant to have fun.
Janet lived at least 100 miles south of us but her sales territory included our B&B. Janet started as a guest. She arrived for the first time, in August. With temps in the upper 90’s and humidity to match, she was desperate for air conditioning and a crowbar to peel off her pantyhose. I showed her to her room and returned to the kitchen.
Mother-in-law arrived, as usual, carrying a clear plastic insulated mug, filled with a triple gin martini with a dozen olives swirling in the ice like alien eyeballs. Cocktail hour had begun. I was making dinner, not drinking, because I still had guests to check-in. Mother-in-law prattled on but I wasn’t paying attention to her questions when Janet breezed through the kitchen door with a question about where to go for dinner. Mother-in-law rounded the corner, fresh from the bar, after making her second (triple) martini. “Would that be a fine gin you might need help carrying?”, said Janet to MIL. Sensing a drinking buddy, MIL and Janet went back to the bar. Janet emerged with a scant single martini and parked herself on the kitchen stool. She was “in”.
Like “death and taxes” there are unwritten rules at our house. Once a guest wanders into the kitchen and parks themselves on the stool…….. they never really leave. They become part of the house….., part of the family….., fall under the protection of the house…., and unconditionally loved…. despite warts or frailties. The kitchen stool was stolen from Grandma Della’s house. Della was only 4’11” and had to have a stool to reach anything. The steps were black plastic and the seat pad was covered in orange/avocado daisy-print, straight out of the early 70’s. I used the stool because our ceilings were so tall. Over the next hour, I checked other guests in, and finally, poured myself a glass of Zinfandel. Janet also switched to Zin. Mother-in-law left, but Janet remained and helped me make dinner, completely comfortable in my kitchen. With dinner in the oven and a luscious antipasto platter in hand, Janet and I retired to the side porch to wait on my husband to come home for dinner. Of course, Janet stayed for dinner.
Over the next year or so, Janet became a regular; our side porch was our perfect perch to people watch and swap stories. The side porch was unusual but represented exceptional architectural planning. The house is surrounded by large oak trees and the side porch is on the southeast corner, protected from strong sun and the heat of Mississippi summers. Husband rigged up some heavy chains from the beams and I hung enormous Boston Ferns. We outfitted the side porch with loads of interesting plants and tidbits. I bought a cheap little fountain and a side fan. The side porch was a mini-oasis and because of all the greenery, no one on the street could tell anyone was sitting there.
Janet often stopped to say hello, even when she wasn’t staying. As we became closer, we often catered lunches and presentation style dinners for her pharma. One year, MIL made 26 scratch coconut cakes for Janet to deliver to her doctor clients.
Janet stopped one day, after making rounds in town, to change clothes before going home. We were on the side porch, sharing a glass of wine, when Ron (another guest) “came home” (to the B&B) from work. Janet spotted him rounding the corner and watched him walk. She narrowed her eyes and said, “If that man was a beach towel, I would get sand all over him.” and then, “He’d have to shake me off.”
I put down my wine, and took a long look at my girlfriend. She had never spoken about a man in such a way. He definitely had her attention. Of course, I had to find a way to get the two of them together. “Who was that?”, she asked. I explained……
……. Ron and his daughter were living with us, for about three months, on and off while he closed up his other house. He was “transferring” to our town. We helped him with realtors, furniture, and his Gothic, pink-haired, 16yr old daughter. Ron fought for and won custody of his daughter. The ex-wife was a mess. I continued……..
…… Ron was the new division President of a local plant and looked like a walking advertisement for Brooks Brothers. He was shy and private. Yes, he was handsome, had a razor sharp wit, and at odd times, could be unbelievably charming. Grandma Della was here, knew Ron, and opened the door for him one day. He hugged her, and she commented about how good he smelled. Ron slid his arm around her again, grabbed her close, looked deep into her eyes, and said, “Are you kidding? If I was 75yrs old, I would be chasing you.” Grandma Della’s knees buckled a little bit. Ron made my grandmother blush. From that moment on, Ron could do no wrong according to Grandma Della. And Janet could do no wrong with Mother-In-Law.
They were a match made in heaven. It was meant to be.
Janet grinned like a Cheshire Cat. A man who was kind to Grandma Della, and needed help raising a daughter, was exactly the kind of man for her. Janet made her decision. She wanted him. We needed a plan and a little bit of help from above.
Because Ron and his daughter went back and forth and Janet was not always here, getting them together took a few weeks. One week, Ron came back by himself, I called Janet, and she was close by. The two met, briefly. Instant fireworks. The next morning, Ron asked about her. I said, “Oh, I don’t know Ron. You’re going to have to chase that one. She’s a thoroughbred.” I let my voice trail off and slinked back to the kitchen. Naturally, that just peaked his interest.
Couple weeks later, someone sent Ron a 25lb box of giant Alaskan Crab Claws. Ron had it shipped to our house, and called me to tell me it was coming. He invited husband and I to partake, if I would cook. He suggested we had “Soooo much” it might be nice to share…., and maybe I should call Janet. Oh, you betcha, I called Janet.
We ate on the side porch, on newspapers, with our hands, with fresh asparagus and scratch Hollandaise, crusty bread with a pound of melted butter. What a meal! There was obviously a LOT going on between the two of them, but Janet did not stay that night… too awkward and a good call.
Week or so later, Janet came in, super-late and had to leave super-early. I was making breakfast and she slipped down the back stairs to see me. She was having problems with a back zipper and needed “girl” help. I gave her a “hang on” sign. Same time, Ron barged into the kitchen, looking for early coffee. Ron didn’t know Janet was here and Janet didn’t know Ron was here. It wasn’t even 6:30am, yet. I winked at Janet….
…. I looked at Ron, shrugged my shoulders, and asked him to do me a favor, please. “My hands are all dirty, and she’s all clean and pretty, would you please….. ZIP HER UP.”
He froze. Three-four steps across the kitchen floor, Janet turned around and presented her back to Ron. I watched him. He held his breath. He zipped her up, then, he hooked the eye at the top. She turned, said, “Thank you very much.”, and out the back door she went. I watched him exhale. His hands were shaking a little. That poor boy hadn’t touched a woman in at least five years. He was smitten.
A few weeks later, the DA in the next county was having his annual house party. His wife was young and spectacularly beautiful, ……which meant other women in town didn’t like her……, which made me stick up for her. She was a wonderful woman. I told Ron about the party and said it might be good for him to go, get familiar with the locals. He asked me if we could invite Janet. We did and it was their first date. My husband teased Ron that he needed a chaperone. The two men got along beautifully.
In the game room at the DA’s house, Janet picked up a pool cue, “I always wanted to learn to play pool.” What????? Janet and I played pool; she was a shark. Of course, Ron offered to help her learn to hold the cue, etc. It was sweet. She sank the ball and let out a 12 syllable long, “Daaaahhhhaammmmnnnn, how did I do that?” Ron’s knees gave way and he whimpered a little. He was a strong and commanding man at the peak of his career. When it came to Janet, he was cooked. Put a fork in him.
The two spent the night but Janet left before breakfast. What I don’t know won’t hurt me. None of my business. BUT – all afternoon, Ron sat at the head of the dining room table, writing Christmas cards. He was staring out the windows. Distracted. Thinking. Finally, I walked into the other end of the dining room and asked him if he was okay. He looked at me and set his jaw, “I’m going to marry that woman. I can’t imagine my life without her.”…. and she adored him.
As a bonus, Ron asked for my help to pick out Janet’s ring, which was perfect for Janet because our tastes were so similar. I called our diamond broker and he came to the house. We picked out the perfect ring. They were married in front of our fireplace. Husband and I stood up for them and they’ve been married 20yrs.
End.