Wandering Bk. 01: Constance

"Simple little formula involving Worcestershire sauce, a touch of chili sauce, and shredded sharp cheddar cheese."

"You'll have to show me. My patrons will go crazy for them."

We spent the rest of the day together. Constance was my tour guide for the delightful town of Nelson, and I was doubly lucky I had chosen that particular town and that particular B & B. My spirits were better than they had been in a long, long time. We visited a specialty wine shop and picked up several bottles of reds from France, Spain and South Africa. Constance knew her wines and I was happy to be the carrier. I offered to pay for them, but she vehemently refused. She could be very strong-willed.

We lunched at a little deli near the far end of town, and I had brought my digital camera to take some photos of the many wonderful old buildings. We worked our way back to her home by mid afternoon and she checked the voice mail to see if there had been any last minute bookings. There had been none.

"Ah ... I have you all to myself again," she grinned.

I turned to her and took her hand, pulling her to me. "Is this going to be another two bed night?" I asked, giving her a raised eyebrow.

"Probably. If you're ... up for it."

"As long as you're with me, I'll find a way to be up for it."

"Hmmm ... just what I wanted to hear."

I stayed with Constance for four nights. They were the best four nights I had ever had, and I would remember them always. By Tuesday night, I could tell it was time to go. Our lovemaking was still very passionate and fulfilling, but she would be welcoming guests on Wednesday and it would be awkward to continue our affair in those circumstances. I also suspected she was a little sore from all our activity.

Our lovemaking on Wednesday morning was sublime. It was gentle and passionate and calming and immensely satisfying. We both knew that this was the end of this part of our lives, and we also knew we wouldn't easily forget these four days. We showered together, made breakfast and ate together and in a few minutes, I had packed my small overnighter and was ready to leave.

She passed me a receipt for my stay and it showed only the one night that I had arrived. I looked at her in surprise and she put a forefinger against my lips.

"My treat, love. For services rendered."

I kissed her, wished her well and promised to stay in touch. She had taught me a great deal and brought me a long way back along the path of restoration. She gave me a feeling of hope and had rebuilt much of my battered ego. She was a therapist of a very different kind, and only by chance had I stumbled into her life.

End of Book 1