A sign there is a god

Quite some time ago I worked with a very attractive woman about my age. She wore a ring so I kept a friendly distance. We began working on a project together and became friends, sometimes going for a beer after work to sit and talk. She had dark blonde hair, perfect skin, a very pretty face and a Marilyn Monroe body. As the weather changed and she started wearing summer clothes I often found myself concentrating less on work and more on her.

It was about that time that her demeanor changed toward being downcast and worried. I soon learned that she'd filed for divorce from her husband. He was, as it turned out, mean, controlling and even abusive. I happened to know a guy who worked with her husband who said that he'd not characterize Jeanne's husband as a nice guy.

Jeanne was a moral woman, but still knew how to flirt, and we grew closer. At the big company picnic we drove out together and when she changed into a thin, one-piece swim suit, and that suit got wet, I became almost single-minded on being with her without that suit on. Every person there had to notice, though Jeanne seemed unaware.

Outside of Portland is a long beach along the Columbia River. During the summer much of it is a nude beach, at least on the warmer days. Jeanne and I decided to go out there after work one day. She notified me that she had no intention of being nude, and I said that I understood. We had changed out of our work clothes at the office before heading to the beach. As it turned out the day was cool and almost no one was on the beaches, but the clouds cleared in the late afternoon and the temperature rose. I took off my shirt enjoying the sun. We both were wearing shorts and Jeanne took off a loose cotton shirt to reveal a lacy camisole, and amazingly to me, no bra.

We walked perhaps a mile downriver talking, relaxing, watching the big ships plow past. We turned to walk back upstream and after a while realized that we didn't recall which of the many paths through the woods led to the spot where we'd left the car. They all looked a lot alike. But we spotted one that looked right and started down the path. We could see the road but saw that we weren't on the correct path, but we thought that once on the road we'd spot the car so we walked on. We had to cross through a thicket of greenery. There were no blackberries or poison oak so we thought nothing of it.

Within moments we felt a thousand fiery prickles on our legs. When we reached down to try to brush the heat away out arms were inflamed. We quickly backed out and onto the beach. We were hopping around and instinctively headed for the icy water of the Columbia. We waded in and the water did cool our thighs but we were irritated above our shorts and onto our arms. I told Jeanne that I was going to strip and get completely into the river and proceeded to do just that. She stood there a few moments, but realized that the pain was getting worse and she too was soon stripping off her clothes.

We stayed in the water until we were freezing. Of course the relief was only partial and temporary. We realized that we'd gotten into stinging nettles and that those nettles were probably in our clothes. We had our work clothes in the car. The beach was empty and the road beyond was little-used and a dead end. So we decided to walk naked back to the car, but this time we'd find an open path to the road.

Her body was everything I'd imagined, to say the least. After momentary shyness, she seemed comfortable as we walked along. The stinging was still there but other feelings helped to mask that pain. Just before we left the beach, right at the edge of the woods, she reached to hold my hand. I stopped us and turned her to me and we hugged, then kissed, then we laughed because the closeness seemed to drive the nettles more deeply in, increasing the pain.

About that god thing. I'm not a believer, not in that all-controlling guy in the sky idea. But if I did believe I'd have to agree with the thought that he works in mysterious ways.