Hardly Carolyn

Indecisive, we'll brush through a brief moment from a long time ago. I'd like to think that it's an illustrative anecdote of who women are, and what they might be. Especially Christian women, and what they might need--or desire. So here we go with the tale of Carolyn, a mere instant that I will wonder about always.

Carolyn gets a mention here, almost in passing. Yet I have to add her, just because it’s an anomaly of which I will never know the truth. A Christian woman, and a mysterious moment of revealed femininity and sexuality. Another anecdote that was a long time ago, however brief, when I was in my early twenties.

I have to admit that on the surface, Carolyn would hardly seem to belong here. A staunch and faithful Christian, she had a wonderful husband and a happy home and family. It was easy to see the love between all of them.

Then in her forties, I always felt that Carolyn could have passed as a sister to her daughter, Angela. Fit, and trim, with curly blond hair, Carolyn had been a college tennis player, and it still showed. It’s funny, her husband Al had been a small school hoops star—and you really couldn’t tell. He was one of those guys who let himself go—a little too much.

On the other hand, I remember walking past Carolyn as she stood at the kitchen counter, and thinking what a great backside she had.

Always vibrant, several times I had a chance to talk with her on a number of topics, and I always found her open and emphatic. I liked Carolyn, and trusted her with some of my more personal thoughts.

One example was when I was talking about my friend “Buck”. I loved the guy to death, he was my buddy, but some of his habits regarding his wife were at the least questionable. Mostly involving his faithfulness (or apparent lack thereof), and I would share some of my observations and suspicions with Carolyn. She would always be outraged that Buck was behaving so, and I would listen to her frustration about how wrong it was for him to act in such a way.

Well, one hot summer night,, after basketball Buck and I dropped by Carolyn’s house looking for her oldest son, Sammy. I knew there was some risk bringing Buck along, that he wouldn't be welcome, but I figured that Sam would be out the door in a flash. I really wasn’t concerned when Buck accompanied me to the door, for the odds of Carolyn answering were only about one in five. Or so I thought.

For Carolyn opened the door, expecting to see Sam. Evidently he had gone out, not telling her where. It was already well after dark, indeed it was pitch back, and she had no idea where he was. Which Carolyn quickly informed us of.

We quickly understood that Carolyn and Al had been inside watching TV, with the air conditioning turned well down—Al’s preference. To keep the cool air from escaping into the steamy night, Carolyn stepped out onto the broad front porch with us, flipping on the porch light before she closed the door. Evidently Al was completely engrossed in his program. Carolyn was dressed for the air conditioning, in heavy slippers, gray sweat pants and a long sleeved, white ribbed mock turtle that I assumed was a body suit. Obviously she had been “in” for the night.

I was mildly surprised that Carolyn didn’t seem to mind Buck’s presence at all, indeed, she seemed pleased to have an audience with whom to release some of her worries and frustrations about mildly miscreant Sam. While I might have had an idea where Sam was (he certainly wasn’t playing basketball), I definitely wasn’t going to distress Carolyn further. So Buck and I stood and chatted with Carolyn for a while, a good forty-five minutes. It turned out to be an interesting talk, and I was surprised that Buck actually had the presence of mind not to say anything to upset her further. So I thought, anyway.

It was a pleasant conversation, the three of us standing there under the porch light, the pitch black gloom of night a few feet away. Perhaps as the focal point of the conversation, Carolyn had simply stepped out between Buck and I, her five-seven between two guys towering well over six feet tall. As I said, it was a hot and steamy night, and both Buck and I were dressed for it, in gym shorts and tank tops. Carolyn wasn’t, in "keeping warm" apparel, which led to the discordance of my observation.

For we were standing there, just the three of us in a deserted neighborhood, conversing in the heat, when suddenly I noticed. Carolyn was still completely involved in the conversation, but her nipples were quite clearly standing hard through that white, ribbed blouse.

I have to say that I was a bit…taken aback.

All of these years later, I would like to say that Carolyn was merely chilly. But I can’t quite convince myself of that—she was dressed warmly, and had been outside on a balmy night for some time. I have to admit that I only know of two causes for such a reaction. So what was it, what had sparked her imagination?

I really don’t know. Was there an undercurrent rushing through the back of her mind of being so close to a “bad boy” like Buck? Did that awaken something within her? Was it just being between two tall, reasonably good looking, athletic young men? What was it that piqued her interest…and why? Did Carolyn simply have a wild, and vivid imagination? Did she have a secret passion waiting to be unlocked? This is a question that I would really like to have answered. I'd like to understand.

And I have to say...they were quite pretty, too.