Rising waters

I punch the garage door opener as I pull into Mindy’s driveway. By the time it is fully open, she is already inside waiting for me with her arms braced across her chest. As soon as the van is parked, she rushes up to me, leaning forward. She looks anxious. I look at her as I step out of the vehicle, trying to figure out what is wrong.

Her words gush out in an unsteady stream. “I tried to call...to check if you had a car accident—or if the van stalled out in a flooded intersection and floated downriver. The tires are so worn... You could have hydroplaned off the road... The van could have been upside down in a ditch...”

“Huh?” I haven’t been gone that long. I pull out my phone and glance at it. It is in silent mode and must have not noticed the buzz while being intensely focusing on the road. I’m touched by her concern, but she is wildly overreacting. Her stricken look worries me. I pocket the phone then grab her arms just above her elbows. “The van is fine.”

She blinks rapidly, looking around. “No... I-I’m not worried about the van. I was worried something...bad happened—and I wouldn’t know. Your phone could have fallen into a puddle...or you could be ****...”

“Hey... I’m fine,” I interrupt her, forcing her to look at me. Why is she being so weird? She seems to need more reassurance so I give her a hug. Her arms drop rigidly to her sides. “There isn’t any flooding, just poor visibility. The only problem I had was I couldn’t complete the delivery and everything is still loaded in your van. I should try again tomorrow...if that is okay with you.”

“Oh... Okay... Yeah, that will be okay.” She slowly hugs me back.

“Everything is good, Mindy,” I assure her, tightening the embrace. It seems to be helping. I keep holding her, feeling her arms tighten around me and she slowly relaxes as the seconds go by. “Everything is good. I just didn’t see that you called.” Eventually most the stiffness leaves her body. Our heights match well, making the hug feel incredibly natural. After a couple minutes of this extended embrace I don’t know if she needs it anymore, but I hold it a little longer, waiting for her to give any indication that she has had enough. I feel her fingers clutched at the back of my shirt. I appreciate her delicious warmth radiating through me my chest. I feel her heavy breasts crushing into me. Her smooth cheek gently shifts against mine, lubricated by rainwater. Not quite sure what sure what this hug means after holding it so long, I find myself getting lost in the details of all the ways our bodies are touching.{if Edge > 50} My sudden arousal is about to make this very awkward.{else} The risk of getting aroused is increasing quickly.{endif}

“I could use that coffee now,” I say, disengaging gently. She doesn’t look at me, but as we separate, our hands brush. She grabs it for a second, as if to walk together hand-in-hand, or maybe just to squeeze it, then lets go as she leads the way back to the kitchen table.

She pours coffee into two cups and sits next to me. She looks a lot more controlled now, but maybe a little embarrassed. Or aroused... I want to kick myself for the intrusive thought, especially when Mindy is clearly in such distress. Sometimes I’m such an asshole. Her white T-shirt is wet from the hug, but she shows no sign of caring. “Tell me what’s going on,” I urge.

“The storm severe and is going to last until evening. There are flash flood warnings all over.” Her eyes get wide, emphasizing how serious this is. I still don’t understand why she is so worked up, though.

“I see. But...” Just as I am about to rephrase the question, I remember that Lewis had told me a couple years ago that the basement had flooded after it had rained for three days straight. “If it is only raining until this evening you don’t need to get too worried.” It doesn’t look like my words helped in any way.

“Just look at how hard it is coming down! The basement is bound to flood after a few hours if it keeps up like this.”

I look out the window, trying to understand her fear. The rain is coming down as hard as I’ve ever seen it, but I still don’t... Oh wait a second.... I see water pouring down outside the window in torn sheets. The gutters should be clearing the water to the edges of the roof, then down the downspouts. I get up and walk to the window to get a closer look.

“Oh boy. You might have a problem after all. Your gutter is backed up already.” As I say it, I realize I might be sending her into another panic. I had better commit to solving her problem, not just confirming her fears. I sigh inwardly. “I’m going to go out and take a look at it.”

Mindy looks conflicted by rival fears. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, you shouldn’t have to worry about flooding if the gutters are doing their job, but if something is failing, well...it might be worth worrying about.”

“Let me find a raincoat for you.”

“Nah, I’m already soaked as it is. I’ll just run out there quick to see what the issue is.”

I go out to the garage, watching the downpour for a few seconds while I prepare to run around the house. The street is starting to look more like a river. The driveway is shrouded in a haze of rain spatter that reaches three-feet off the ground. I run into it, instantly regretting the raincoat. I was wet. Now I’m drenched.

I circle the house, checking that the rain gutters are secure, level, and doing their job. Each of the downspouts is blasting water away from the house except for the one closest to the kitchen window. Mindy is watching me from inside, fretting. That one is definitely clogged. I crouch in the grass and look inside, seeing darkness. I reach in, fearing the discovery of some dead rodent, but find nothing. I stand up and look at the rain gutter that is spilling over along its entire length, right next to a basement window well. Yeah, that is going to be a problem. I wave at Mindy, then point in the direction of the garage then I run to meet her there.

“Warren, you are soaked through!” She laments. I make a growing puddle where I stand.

“There is a clog in one of the gutters. Do you have a ladder?”

She looks at me dubiously. “I do, but is that a good idea?”

“I haven't heard any thunder. If I do, I’ll come back in immediately.” She hesitates, then shows me where it is and I run back into the monsoon with it. I set the ladder into the spongy ground and test it for wobble. It doesn’t fill me with confidence, but good enough. I carefully climb to the top and instantly see the problem. I reach into the flooded opening to the downspout and pull out the wedged obstruction. With tremendous relief, I watch the gutter clear itself properly. I retreat back into the garage with the ladder in hand.

Mindy has towels ready for me. She hands me one while holding the other one ready.

“The gutters are all working now.” I hold up the nerf mini-football that was the cause of the backup, then drop it with a wet splat to take a towel. “You really don’t need to worry about the basement flooding, but we should take a look around down there just to put your mind at ease.” Mindy’s eyes soften, almost to the point of tears.

“Thank you so much, Warren! I owe you so much.” Her smile is a fine reward all by itself.

I start to dry off my face when I realize how uncomfortable I am going to feel driving hone in these soaked jeans. I have my gym bag of sweaty clothes in the car, it would be a little smelly, but much more comfortable... Then I remember I have a backup gym bag that I haven’t looked at it months. The old clothes in there would be clean, if there are any in it at all.

“I’ll be right back,” I say, handing her the towel. I sprint to the trunk of my car and find the bag wedged in the back corner. It is a small drawstring pouch. I feel the lump of clothes inside so I grab it and haul ass back to Mindy. “I should have some old clothes in here.”

“Oh good! Get that wet stuff off! You look miserable.”

I peel the wet T-shirt off and drop it to the floor, taking a towel from her and drying my face and chest. I see her eyebrow raise for a moment, but then she steps behind me and pads my back dry while I dig in the bag. The shirt inside is one I haven’t looked at in years. It is a blue, athletic, compression T-shirt that always felt a little too much like a superhero costume so I stopped wearing it to the gym. It is what I have, so I pull it on with some effort, remembering how tightly it hugs my body. Reaching back into the bag, I find shorts. They are a loose, silky style similar to basketball shorts, but shorter. There is nothing else in the bag. I am so eager to get the wet jeans off and start to unbutton them right there, forgetting that I am not wearing underwear, and that Mindy is right next to me, not saying a word. I freeze just before yanking them down, shocked that it took me so long to read the room.

Mindy snaps out of her daze. “Aaaahhh-I’ll set the towels here for you,” She gives me an embarrassed smile, looks away, and goes back into the house, closing the overhead garage door as she disappears. I strip the uncomfortable jeans off, towel-dry my legs, and put on the shorts. I haven’t worn these in a long time, either. They are a little loose around the waist, and even more so around my thighs, to the point of almost looking like a skirt. Wearing this tight top and loose bottom feels odd. Normally I would hate it, but given the situation, I am grateful to have them.