A Nice Shower

Warm, sweaty, and feeling slightly sticky after making a mad dash to the chemist shop before it closed- and avoiding once again the amorous insinuations of that maddening Tishel woman- Martin decided he'd feel better if he changed clothes before dinner. He efficiently ticked off dark blue suit, pale blue shirt, red speckled tie in his mind as a suitable replacement for his current attire. And then added to his mental list current outfit off to the cleaners.

Arriving home, he locked the surgery doors, proceeded to his bedroom and had just taken off his tie and began to unbutton his shirt, when he heard a knock. As luck would have it, Louisa came by early to meet him for their dinner out. His unthinking and quick trip down the stairs to answer the knock surprised even him. She was even more surprised, when he opened the door, to see him in this unnaturally disheveled state.


"Louisa? Uh...ummm ….." Then realizing his appearance, "Oh, god. Sorry. I...uh...come in. I was..."

While Martin struggled to regain his composure, Louisa worked to cover her surprise. But it was something a bit more than that as well. Intrigued—yes, by a glimpse of hitherto unexplored territory. Louisa realized that as much as she liked a sharp dressed man, this look at Martin in a slightly undone style definitely made her heart beat to a reggae rhythm for a few pulses, while the rest of her felt a bit warm and fuzzy.

"Martin, I can walk up the hill for a bit and come back in a little while, if this is bad..."

"No, no, it's fine." Martin found himself feeling a bit odd as well as he looked at Louisa in the red dress she'd worn to the village dance. How that dress and her body in it had made his mind reel that night.

"Please sit …. in the lounge, Louisa. I'll just finish my preparations." With that and the offer of a glass of water, Martin hastily remade his way upstairs.

When he was out of sight in the inner sanctum of his bedroom, he put his fingers to his forehead to rub the odd feeling away. But rubbing his forehead was no good. It didn't help a bit.

He still felt uncomfortable in his clothes, and he had to change anyhow, so maybe shedding them might help so he could cool off a bit. Removing his shoes, and then his socks, brought a tad of relief. He wiggled his toes and that felt good. His shirt came next, then trousers, in his usual efficient way.

He started immediately to the closet, not wanting to leave Louisa waiting too long. But as his hand reached out for the pale blue shirt there, he realized he still didn't feel comfortable in his own skin. And the odd feeling hadn't gone away either. He sighed. There was only one thing left that could help.

He called down the stairs, "Louisa, I'm a bit …erm. Do you mind if I take a quick shower?"

Louisa was looking at a medical journal that was on the coffee table. "What did you say?"

Martin replied "I said, do you mind if I take a quick shower?"

"Martin, do you have to? I'm really quite famished. That's why I came early. School lunch didn't quite satisfy today."

"I'll be quick about it."

Louisa went back to the journal, grimacing a bit as she turned to an article with pictures guaranteed to make a layperson squeamish. Her stomach growled. What was it Martin had called those sounds? Bor-something. Oh, well, she'd ask him later.

From upstairs, she could hear the sound of tooth brushing and then a shaver whirring away. "I thought he was just doing a shower," she grumbled to herself, but then had another thought and "well, that might be a good sign for the evening," she mumbled through a half-smile and settled back into an article on the lack of effectiveness of hand sanitizers.

She heard different shower sounds before they quite registered with her. Engaged with the article and its ramifications for her students and with her mind a bit muddled from feeling her hunger, she found herself thinking the oddest thoughts about the sounds she was hearing. Was it a waterfall? Or a leaking pipe? Gusty rain spraying the windows? No, surely not. Just concentrate on your reading, she told herself. But a bit later, her responsibleness kicked in and she was having trouble focusing anyhow. Surely, she should check to see if everything was all right. Wouldn't it be lovely to find a waterfall?

Martin was just shutting off the water handles when Louisa opened the bathroom door.

"Louisa, what on earth are you doing?" he bellowed more than a little surprised.

"I...I... I don't kn..." and it was a good thing the door jamb was right behind her now as she slid down it and puddled on the floor like a Raggedy Ann doll.

Now it was Martin's turn to be surprised again. He hadn't found himself disrobed in front of a woman for a very many years, much less dripping wet, and un-coiffed. But on second thought, he realized it probably didn't matter in this case, since the woman was clearly out of danger of seeing anything due to her complete fainted state. Thank heaven he was a doctor! Martin sprang into action.

"Louisa?" Kneeling next to her, Martin felt her wrist and checked her chest for breath and heart sounds. "Louisa!" he called more sharply. No response. But she did seem fine with normal signs otherwise. Gathering her into his arms, Martin carried her gently to his bed and placed her head on his pillow. He began checking her vitals all over again, and this time when he opened an eyelid, Louisa reacted to this touching of her skin as though it was a bit uncomfortable. Martin watched her and slowly her eyes began to flutter like someone trying very hard to awaken. Slowly, the lids opened more and closed less until Louisa was once again with this world and not some other somnolent one.

"Martin. …. Oh, my goodness, Martin. What happ...?" Louisa's eyes were fully open now and it was her turn to be surprised. "Martin?" her voice quavered on an up note. Her mind's librarian slowly found his way to the right shelf of memories and got out a slightly embarrassing one. Louisa remembered telling Martin it would be good to see him out of that suit...and in a wetsuit. But she certainly hadn't considered a wet birthday suit! But here he was!

As for Martin, well, let's just say Carrie Wilson was right—he was definitely blushing!

...The End...(of my first attempt at writing fiction of any kind. Hope it made you smile.)


borborygmus –stomach rumbles or growling.