Playground Playmate – take 2

She showed up at the playground, when I first noticed her. My daughter was playing on the structure with the ropes and slide and stuff right in the middle of the place and there was another older girl, probably of middle school age by the look of her; tall and thin with long dark hair running along with my daughter and playing right along, the two girls made good company together.

After a while it was time to leave. The Florida heat was pretty intense and with the clouds building up all day, it was about time for the regular afternoon monsoon. Lightning flashed high up in distant nimbus cloud columns while gathering our playthings, the other little girl being nearby and helpfully picked up also.

“Thanks for hanging out with Alyssa,” I started, “you are guys really play together well. What’s your name?”

“ Ronnie,” she told me as we started to walk out of the park.

“Well, Ronnie, it looks like it’s going to pour any minute. We’re heading home. Will we see you later?” I asked. Our apartment was just down the street, we’d make it in time.

“I live just down the street and around the corner with my mom,” she said. “ But she lets me do what I want in the afternoon. Can I hang with you guys?”

Fat, lazy raindrops landed with a splat here and there; I wasn’t about to argue as we neared our doorstep. As soon as we stepped inside, the heavens opened up as if a tap turned on while the cool air of the apartment instantly offered relief from the intense heat. Getting re-situated at home, I got a better look at our new friend. A bit of the ragamuffin, I thought, rail thin and long bony feet in her flip-flops. Maybe five feet tall, I judged, with nice big brown eyes and generous lips; she’d grow into a beauty some day. And a tall one, if she’s going to grow into those feet.

“All right, who needs some ice cream?” I asked, reaching into the freezer and pulling out some pops for the kids. Occasional thunder shook the windows and lightning flashed frequently through the windows. We lived in a tidy little three bedroom apartment, one for the master bedroom, one for my daughter, and the last bedroom is my office slash studio where I photograph products for catalogs and do my writing. There is just enough room to photograph somebody modeling a pair of pants or a jacket for a catalog, but nothing fancy as far as that goes. The master bedroom was especially roomy since my wife took off. Something about the tropical atmosphere in South Florida changes people, steamy goings on, and the neighborhood here is so transitory; it’s an old story – she met somebody and just needed something without all the responsibility. No, she laid it on me. We alternated weekends with our lovely daughter Alyssa. I cope. We deal. Fortunately I can work from home.

Ronnie stood at the sliding glass door at the back of the apartment and looked across the way. “Oh you can see my place from over here,” and she pointed to the left while I looked at a block of older units which faced their backs towards ours. She was a neighbor. She also smelled, as I stood there, noticing how unkempt she really was, for the first time. Her feet looked practically crusted with dirt and she glistened from sweat.

“Would you like a bubble bath?” I suggested. We headed into the bathroom and once the tub was full and frothy, I averted my gaze while Ronnie quickly stripped without any hesitation and jumped in.