Laura’s Gardener
Laura’s Gardener
For years Laura Cooper attended to her garden with the same enthusiasm for which she attended to herself. It was a very large garden — nearly five acres of the Cooper estate was dedicated to Laura’s passion.
It was a very hot day in late June; unusually hot. Laura was, as usual, somewhere out in her expanse of hand-selected plants, shrubs, and trees toiling diligently. Marc, Laura’s husband was getting ready to leave for the day on his daily commute to the city. Rarely did he ever see Laura in the morning as she typically headed for her garden very early in the day. Today was no exception.
The telephone rang as Marc was walking out the door. He turned and picked it up. He was informed by his assistant that his morning meeting was to be postponed for several hours and that he should come to work later in the day. Marc thanked her and hug up. He then got a marvelously wicked idea. He was going to find his wife, somewhere out there, and surprise her in a way that she hasn’t been for years.
Marc changed into jeans and a tee shirt and ventured quietly into Laura’s garden, coursing myriad paths, seeking his desire. He rounded a corner by a shed and saw Laura talking to a handsome, muscular man ten years her junior. He noted an excitement in her motions and a twinkle in her eyes. Marc was wondering what exactly he was seeing when it suddenly became obvious. Laura checked her watch, scanned her surroundings missing Marc narrowly as he ducked down behind a thicket of rose bushes, smiled, and stepped forward into the man’s arms.
Marc was shocked and dismayed. This didn’t look good for him. He knew his relationship was doomed as he watched Laura look up to the man who now returned her embrace. They kissed, slowly and passionately. There was a fire brewing somewhere, a volcano charging up. Marc was hurt. He couldn’t believe his lovely wife was with this strange man.
The man turned, grabbing Laura by the hand. He walked up a path to a white van with the words “The Gardener” stenciled on its doors. Marc followed silently. He wanted to see no more but couldn’t seem to help himself. The man opened the back doors of the van, stepped aside, then helped Laura into the van. The man followed her in and closed the door. Marc got a quick glimpse inside before the door closed. To Marc it looked nothing like a gardener’s work van. The inside appeared to be outfitted more like a mobile bedroom. Marc was suspicious that this man wasn’t even a real gardener.
Marc crept closer to the van and peered through the back windows. It was difficult to see inside through the van’s heavy tinting, but Marc could make out shapes well enough to know what was going on. Laura slipped the straps of her sun dress off her shoulders and let the garment drop. The gardener, who was now also undressed, reached for Laura, pulled her close, and buried his face into the nape of her neck kissing her with an unbridled desire. Marc could see Laura’s body straighten then drop repeatedly as the gardener worked on her. A planting, it seemed, was inevitable. Laura wanted, needed, had to have her field sown. The gardener was obviously the man for the job. Marc could tell as he watched his wife’s shape quiver with delight. Things were getting hot.
Marc continued to watch as the gardener’s hands traced the outline of his wife’s fine epoxy tinted polycarbonate formed body panels. These panels are scratch, dent, and corrosion resistant. Tested by an independent agency, the panels are guaranteed for fifteen years.
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Somebody really screwed this one up, huh?
The End
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