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Nude Tea, my earliest novel. Published by Publish America and available at
online bookstores.
What was I thinking? Well, I wondered if I could pit four women from four
different lifestyles into one room.
The idea was to have a clash of value-systems erupt, and to document it from
the perspective of a semi-curious male.
Some of the criticisms I've received are that the story seems 'voyeur.' My
answer is 'So?'
Other criticisms mention that my 'first person' writing style uses the 'I'
word too much. "I've" taken that to heart and applied it to my later novels.
It's an early work; a first work. Lots of grammatical errors are in it.
(shrug)
| Nude Tea
Chapter one
The Nudist Entered In
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The décor was as bright as a fruit stand. Hardly proper for what
would eventually conspire. It should have been natural tones, the
go-with-anything color. The pine coffee table was covered with virgin
lace, which draped over the sides like winter frost. My wife of 25 years
swept imaginary wrinkles from the fabric of the cherry and plum loveseat
and then stepped back to take in the full view.
"Do you think the solid armchair matches?" she asked as if that question
had never come up before.
"I'll paint it if the guests complain?"
Failing to catch my sarcasm, Opal systematically replied, "Whatever the
guests wish, a graceful and elegant hostess makes it happen." Studying
herself in the mirror, she adjusted the shoulders of her pale primrose
dress. "This is a dress-up party, darling. But before you disappear, set
the mood with some melodious Mozart?" She continued watching her
reflection as she walked around the room. "Is anyone coming yet?" she
asked as her fingers nervously positioned the doilies one last time.
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I peeked out the window. "Just Gabrielle."
Sweeping her palms against her tummy, this mid-forties woman snapped
herself free from the tension and ran to the front door with giggling
schoolgirl delight.
"Helloooo!" sang the woman who with one hand opened the door and with
the other motioned for me to quickly disappear.
From here on out I can't be blamed, I privately snickered. From
my study, which from here on I guess I should call the servants
quarters, I was able to inconspicuously peek at most of what would
conspire in the dining room. Gabby is a familiar face to this household.
She's single, overweight and approaching forty but refuses to accept any
of those as doom. Brushing her wavy, shoulder-length golden hair with
her fingertips, she leaned forward to give Opal a hug.
"L…love your outfit," Opal stated hesitatingly to the woman who wore
smoke spandex leggings below and a faded russet floral smock above.
"Hello Arthur!" Gabby shouted as she marched into the living room. She
flopped herself onto the sofa as gracefully as luggage thrown from
across the room.
I shyly admitted my presence with a peek-a-boo wave.
"So where's the new gal?" Gabby asked as she held the porcelain cup to
her eyes and admired the design.
"This is our first tea party, dear," Opal calmly corrected. "We are all
as new as one another," she stated.
"Hunky-dory! I'll just pretend that after a 3 year friendship I don't
know a thing about you." |
"After introducing ourselves, we shall learn of one another's likes
and dislikes, and accommodate accordingly," Opal said with her hands
politely folded in front.
"Great! I dislike that Mozart music in the background," Gabby bellowed.
"You got any Elton John?"
Opal's jaw hit the floor with a thud only she and I could hear, but she
discreetly picked it back up and fumbled through my stack of CDs.
"Hellooo, Tressa!" I heard my wife sing next as the warm summer breeze
whisked in through the opening door. "You look marvelous!" she assured
the woman who wore khaki shorts, tattered flats, and a button down shirt
with half the buttons stolen by wear and tear. She looked late twenties
to me; a frazzle-haired brunette. "Are you sure you have children?" Opal
praised.
"Yes, there's Timmy, who's 8 now but thinks he's 23…" Like a keg
uncorked, this woman just kept talking. Arms flailing dramatically about
in the air, she continued rambling endlessly about her kids while Opal
politely nodded and forced a smile.
Gabby thrust a palm to the air and interrupted, "Stop to breathe,
girlfriend!" Taking advantage of Tressa's momentary pause, she firmly
stated. "Sounds like you've got some wonderful kids there but we're
gonna talk about other things today too, okay?"
"Well, see, that's why I'm so glad to be here because I really need a
break from those two. I mean, they're always in front of my face and I
figured if I could just escape that madhouse for a just little while
maybe I can forget they exist and regain some sanity…"
"Feel free to tell us all about them!" Opal accommodated warmly.
"Darjeeling?" she asked in a way that was designed to interrupt Gabby's
attempted remarks.
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"Better get the door," Gabby groaned as she pulled her eyes away
from the window with a roll.
"Pardon me!" Opal begged of Tressa.
The young mother opened her mouth and drew in a breath. Gabby darted for
the volume control on the CD player.
After pressing the wrinkles from the tummy of her dress and with the
grandeur of royalty Opal swung the door wide. Her shoulders noticeably
dropped, but she picked them right back up immediately. With a swing of
an arm to the rest of the room, Opal introduced, "Ladies, isn't
Larissa's jogging outfit just to die for?"
The gal of perhaps 19 years of age blushed with shyness, and she batted
her eyes.
"We met at the store last week, and we just got along famously," Opal
praised. "Now Larissa, you simply must tell us about yourself," my wife
insisted as she guided the young lady to a seat by the window. "We are a
group of gals who are still young at heart, so feel free to be
yourself."
Larissa swept her flowing midnight hair up behind her head and exhaled
with an ambiguous laugh, "Oh, where do I begin?"
"Don't be shy," Gabby insisted as she rhythmically swayed to the beat of
the music. "We're all new here."
"I forgot what life is like without children swinging from the
chandelier…" Tressa started out.
"Speak up! Quick!" Gabby demanded of Larissa.
"Just pretend you're at home. In our small group you ARE FREE to be
yourself," Opal urged of this newcomer.
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"God, I am so glad to hear that," Larissa sighed with noticeable
relief. "I'm a nudist," she blurted out as she tossed her jog bra into
the air and laughed with delight.
© Stephen Martin
Available online
at BN and other bookstores: ISBN 9781591298120 |
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