Mature Man & Maiden Maureen Ch. 23

"What do we do with our groceries? I have things that will spoil if not refrigerated," she said holding up her container of ice cream again and smiling.

Relieved that she was interested in spending more time with me, only our groceries stood in our way of finding everlasting love. I wanted to take her carriage with mine, roll them down the aisle, and leave. Who cares about groceries, when I'm about to rekindle my love affair again with my dream woman reincarnated in someone else's body? Needing to think of something to say that would appease her and make her stay with me, at least long enough for me to talk to her over lunch, I took a longshot that she'd agree.

Again, if she was Maureen and if this was meant to be, she'd go with me whatever the Hell I said and wherever I wanted her to go. With there a reason for everything, I was sure that she was Maureen. I could not only sense her but also, I could feel her. Unbelievable but true, crazy of me to even think that thought, I know that Kate is the reincarnation of my deceased fiancée.

"We can drop off our groceries and meet back here," I said while hoping she'd agree to my idea.

I hoped to allay any safety concerns that she may have in being alone with a total stranger by asking her to meet me back at the supermarket, a public place before going to a restaurant, another public place.

# # #

She smiled.

"I have a better idea," she said with another smile and a thoughtful pause before continuing. "After we pay for our groceries, why don't you follow me home," she said giving me a sexy smile? "You can help me with my bundles. Then, I'll follow you home and I can help you with your bundles," she said giving me a naughty look.

She's inviting me to her home. She invited herself to my home. That sounded like a good plan to me. Never wanting this day to end, I'd do anything to remain longer in her company.

'Okay,' I thought.

"Yeah, sure, as long as you don't look at my messy house," I said with a laugh and feeling good that she obviously trusted me enough to ask me to her house. "Like I said, I've been alone for a while," I said with a laugh.

She laughed, too.

"Normally, I don't invite strangers, especially strange men, to follow me home and help me with my bundles nor do I volunteer to go to a strange man's house unescorted but, for some reason, I feel safe with you," she said smiling up at me. "For some strange reason," she said with a laugh. "I trust you."

Oddly enough, she looked at me as if she knew me. She looked at me, as if trying to place my face. She looked at me as if she trusted me not to rape and murder her.

"There's something in your eyes that looks familiar," she said staring in my eyes. "It's weird but I feel as if I've met you somewhere before long ago," she said while smiling at me. "Somehow, I feel as if I know you."

She laughed.

"Me too. I got that same feeling when I looked in your eyes. You have big, beautiful, brown eyes," I said.

She smiled.

"Thank you," she said.

I returned her smile with my smile.

"I think that this could be the beginning of a beautiful relationship," I said with another big smile and a hopeful expression.

Then, out of the clear blue, she looked at me as if she recognized me.

"My dad loved old westerns," she said with a laugh. "You remind me of Clint Walker when he played Cheyene Brodie in Cheyene," she said with another laugh. "That's who you remind me of," she said. "He loved that show, along with Rawhide, Gunsmoke, Bonanza, and Have Gun Will Travel," she said.

I returned her smile with my smile again.

"You're not the first person who told me that," I said. "Thank you for the compliment."

# # #

Afraid that she'd think me crazy, I wanted to tell her about that movie, Heaven Can Wait, but I figured that reference can wait, at least, until I got to know her better. I didn't want her to think that I was attracted to her because she reminded me of someone else, my dead fiancée. I didn't want her to think that I was totally strange and that the only reason why I was attracted to her was because I thought she was the reincarnation of my deceased girlfriend. I'm sure that would go over really big.

"I couldn't help but notice your hands when you touched my hand," she said looking down at my hands. "You have big hands. Women notice men's hands," she said with a laugh. "Your hands are strong with long fingers and clean fingernails."

I laughed.

"Yeah," I said looking at my fingernails before looking back at her. "I don't like getting my fingernails dirty."

She looked at me with curiosity.

"What do you do?"

I smiled at her.

"Do? You mean for a living? For work?"

She smiled again.

"Yes," she laughed at my clumsy conversation. "What's your occupation?"

I shrugged.

"I write. I'm a writer," I said. "I write novels. After having had early success writing a couple of bestsellers, I retired early from the rat race of getting up to go to work every day."

I paused to look at her reaction to me telling that I'm a writer.

"I work from home now," I said. "I'm free to write whatever I want to write, and whenever I want to write it. Not having to dance to the drumbeat of an agent or to a publisher is what every writer wanted but few writers ever get. I was lucky. Now they solicit me, instead me having to solicit them."

She smiled.

"A writer? She looked at me impressed. "I never met a writer before. My last boyfriend was a school administrator. My ex-husband was a salesman," she said giving me a smile. "What have you written that I may have read?"

I laughed.

"Unless you're into fiction, I doubt if you've read anything that I've written," I said with another laugh. "I figure you for romance. Am I right?"

She laughed, too.

"As if you know me, you are right. I love reading romance novels, watching soap operas, and watching corny, Hallmark movies," she said with a laugh. "No doubt, because I'm hungry for love," she said looking at me with a look of sexual expectancy and intimacy. "I'm a sap for a good, love story," she said smiling.

I nodded my head to show her that I not only was listening but also that I understood. Moreover, having the edge, with them having another thing in common, a typical woman thing to do, Maureen loved reading romance novels, watching soap operas, and watching Hallmark movies, too. Much like Kate, she was a sap for a good, love story, too.

# # #

"And what about you? What do you do?"

She laughed.

"Believe it or not, I used to model," she said putting her hand behind her head, pushing out her hip, and striking a sexy pose.

Instead of looking at me proud, she looked at me as if she was ashamed instead of having modeled in her past. Loving the idea that she used to model, I stared at her approvingly. A natural, when she posed like that, even with her gray hair, especially with her gray hair, I could imagine her walking down a runway modeling clothes.

"Obviously," I said taking that as an invitation to look at her sexy and shapely body longer. She was tall, and with her heels, she was nearly my height. "I could tell that about you. You look like a model," I said with a smile. "You definitely, have the body to model clothes."

She smiled, too, while striking another pose.

"Thank you," she said. "It was long ago and such a brief period of my life. I modeled while I was in college and continued modeling while I earned my master's degree. If nothing else, it paid the bills but, having to fend off the advances of so many men, especially photographers, male models, and talent agents, it was too fast of a life for me. Now, more able to go with the flow in a sedate lifestyle, I'm a public, high school teacher," she said.

'Another similarity. This never ends,' I thought. 'Maureen was a teacher, too.'

"That's an interesting career path going from modeling to teaching,' I said. I seized the moment to pay her another compliment. "I wish I had a teacher who looked like you when I was in high school. All my teachers were short, fat, and had mustaches, including the women," I said with a laugh.

She laughed, too.

"Well, I don't have a mustache," she said still laughing again. "When I was modeling, they wanted to put me under contract, but I thought better of it. Between the catcalls and the rejections, I modeled enough to know that it wasn't the profession for me," she said.

She continued to give me insight into who she was.

"I don't like always having that kind of adulation and attention. Believe it or not, I'm shyly reserved. A home body, I don't party much. I prefer sitting on a couch while having a glass of wine and reading a good book."

She waited for me to respond and when I didn't, she continued.

"Besides, I didn't want to move to New York and throw myself in the fast life of fashion photographers, pushy agents, and impromptu invitations to parties that I'd regret going to the next day. A career that usually ended at thirty-years-old, I'm glad that I stayed in school and finished my education," she said.

I couldn't help myself from thinking about Maureen again.

"A teacher, huh? That's weird. My fiancée was a special, needs teacher. She taught children who had Autism and learning disabilities. She wanted to return to school to finish her Master's degree."

She smiled.

"A special needs teacher is an admirable profession. I don't have the patience for that, I'm afraid," she said. "The students that I teach test my patience enough without trying to teach children with special physical and emotional needs. I don't know how someone can teach children with so many difficulties to overcome," she said.

'Beginning to have a long list, the similarities continued adding up. She's a teacher and Maureen was a teacher, too,' I thought again.

# # #

"What was her name?"

Before I even said her name, I envisioned Maureen standing behind Kate as a ghostly figure. I imagined her smiling at me. She seemed pleased that I found her replacement. She seemed to like her as much as I was enamored with Kate.

"Maureen," I said.

Kate laughed and blew me away with her response.

"Maureen? No kidding, that's a weird coincidence," she said with another laugh. "My mother's name is Maureen. Named after her, my middle name is Maureen. My real name is Katherine Maureen, but ever since I was a little girl everyone called me Kate and it stuck," she said.

She beamed me a smile.

"For some reason, maybe because it was my Mom's name, I always liked the name Maureen and wished she had named me that, instead of Katherine. Maureen rolled off the tongue easier than Katherine or Kate," she said looking at me with those eyes, those hauntingly, beautiful eyes.

I turned my cart towards the checkout line.

"Well, Katherine Maureen, what do you say we head on up to the checkout line and continue our spur of the moment, unofficial, and impromptu date," I asked her with a laugh?

She returned my laugh with her laugh.

"Okay, sure. I'd like that," she said touching my arm. "Yet, with the both of us pushing shopping carts, unless your sexual fetish is food and food shopping, I don't consider this much of a date," she said with another laugh.

# # #

I followed her home and helped with her bundles. It was weird seeing what she bought at the grocery store on a weekly basis. She bought many of the same grocery items that I bought.

With her no longer needing to pay monthly rent, jumping way ahead of myself, I couldn't help but think of the money she'd save if she moved in with me, and we lived together. We were both ripe for a love relationship. She was easy to know. As if we already were boyfriend and girlfriend, half the battle, something not easy to do, we already made an immediate connection.

"Well, everything is put away," I said stuffing the last box of rice in her kitchen cabinet.

She turned to me and smiled.

"Thank you," she said leaning to me to kiss me on the cheek. "Just let me change my clothes and powder my nose," she said disappearing in her bedroom and closing the door before disappearing in her bathroom.

Surprised that she kissed me, albeit on the cheek, I was tempted to quickly turn my head and kiss her on the lips. Moving too fast, nevertheless, missing my opportunity, I wished that I had turned my head and kissed her on her mouth. Yet, again, I didn't want to rush her, especially if she really wasn't Maureen reincarnated as Katherine Maureen. Taking it slower, with me already in her house, this potential love affair was already on the fast track.

Replacing her Red Sox, baseball cap and her Tom Brady jersey, she emerged from her bedroom wearing a button blouse and a short skirt. She fixed her hair and redid her makeup. She looked more like a sexy woman than a sports fan. I liked the look.

She smelled good, clean, and fresh. She smelled as if she had just emerged from the shower. I couldn't help but imagine her in her bra and panties, topless, and naked. In the way that I had done with Maureen, Colleen, Gwen, and Carol, I imagined taking a shower with her. I imagined pressing her naked body up the shower wall and making out with her while making love to her.

"Are you ready to see my messy house?"

She laughed.

"Lead the way she said."

To be continued...