Connected Podcast

Survivor Benefits

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Survivor Benefits.
Three retirees discover a new way to live.

Based on a post by Milo_Grigsby. Listen to the Podcast at Connected.



"Jim, you remember my friend Patti right?"

I lowered my morning paper and peered over my reading

glasses to look across the breakfast table at Brenda, my wife of 14 years. The
Arizona sunrise, shining in through tour kitchen windows.

"The one who lives in Iowa?"

"Idaho."

"That's what I meant. Of course I remember Patti, hun.

Is this a senility test?"

"No, I do those in the evenings."

"What?"

"Don't change the subject. Would you mind terribly if

Patti came out for a visit? February is rough in the Mountains."

I sighed a little inside. Ever since Brenda and I had

retired to Arizona, it wasn't uncommon for friends from colder climates to come
for a visit during the winter months. We had a nice sized home with a small
guest house, so it wasn't too intrusive. But my cousin from Indiana and his
wife had just been with us for a month-long visit and I wanted our privacy
back.

"Um; when?"

Brenda sipped her morning coffee and appeared thoughtful.

"In a couple of weeks; maybe? Would that be okay?"

Brenda's bright blue eyes had a hopeful look in them and her

smile was warm. I had never really been able to refuse that smile or those eyes
anything. She knew I would say yes, and so did I. But the game must be played,
so I put on a grumpy air, made a show of snapping the paper back up to the
sports page and harrumphed a little. "I suppose."

I couldn't see it, but I was pretty sure Brenda was still

smiling.

"I'll call her later to work it all out. Thank you,

Jim. I love you."

"Umm hmm, that's nice." I said in return. A piece

of breakfast roll hit the back of my paper. I chuckled and said, "Love you
too hun."

Two weeks later, Brenda and I were driving into Sky Harbor

airport, to pick up Patti. It was a picture-perfect February day in the Valley
of the Sun, low 70's and the cloudless sky was a bright blue dome from horizon
to horizon.

Brenda reached over and squeezed my hand. "Oh I'm so

excited to see Patti! It's been too long!"

I glanced over at her. The low afternoon sun was shining off

my Brenda's silvered hair, which she was wearing in a very becoming pixie cut
these days. It framed her heart shaped face and wide set eyes beautifully,
which at the moment, were sparkling with excitement. Brenda was a classic
beauty, and at 68 her looks have aged like fine wine. Sure, there were a few
wrinkles, but they gave her character. And I loved her and her wrinkles, with
every ounce of my being.

Brenda and I met back in Chicago, 16 years earlier; at a

support group for people who had lost their spouses. We struck up a casual
acquaintanceship, but neither of us was ready for any kind of a relationship at
the time. So I was surprised when she called me out of the blue, about a year
after we met; and asked if I would like to meet her for dinner.

That first dinner became a weekly thing. We enjoyed each

other's company. We had a lot in common and never seemed to run out of
conversation. I was normally somewhat taciturn in social situations, but Brenda
had a way of drawing me out like no one ever had. Weekend breakfasts at our
favorite coffee shops and diners were soon added to the weekly dinners at
restaurants, and shortly thereafter we were alternating dinners and evenings at
our homes. Naturally, and seemingly inevitably, we found ourselves in bed
together and sharing breakfasts the next morning at home. We were married
within a year. We had a comfortable and easy marriage. My marriage had been
childless. Brenda only had one adult son when we met. We both enjoyed our
careers, were financially comfortable, and had our own individual hobbies; and
some we shared.

12 years after we married, we wrapped up our careers and

left frigid Chicago winters behind, to enjoy our retirement in the Arizona
sunshine. And that's where we have been for the last two years. The summers are
a little brutal, but it’s worth it, for the warm winter months.

We waited by the baggage claim and Brenda was giddy,

watching keenly for Patti’s face to emerge in the crowds coming down the
arrivals. Brenda and Patti ran to each other, laughing and hugging each other
warmly, when we met her outside of Security.

In her late 60s, Patti has the tan and wiry fit body of the

outdoorswoman she always has been, with long dark hair, lightly streaked with
silver, that she often wears in a braid, down her back. She and her husband
Earl; who had passed away 3 years ago, had been outfitters and guides on the
Snake River in Idaho, for many years.

After Brenda and Patti had finished hugging and kissing

cheeks, they walked over to me, arm in arm. I held out my hand "Patti,
good to see you again."

She took my hand and pulled me into a hug with the strength

of someone who had been rowing rafts on a river for decades. "How are you,
you old cuddle bear?" she said.

Patti had been at our wedding, and we had visited her and her

husband a couple of times in Idaho for rafting. After seeing me shirtless on
the river, she tagged me with her own personal nickname for me, "Cuddle
Bear." It's not a completely inaccurate description. I'm a little over 6
feet tall, and at present I'm a bit heavier than maybe I should be, at 240. And
thanks to some Semitic heritage on my mother's side, I'm what you might call
"fuzzy".

"Oh" I grunted. "Hi, Patti." I returned

the hug, which involved me bending over a bit to reach Patti's 5 foot 6 inch frame.

We stopped on the way home from the airport, for brunch.

"Oh my god Jim how can you Eat that?" Patti

exclaimed as the waitress brought my huevos rancheros with chorizo sausage.

I frowned a little, down at my plate, and then looked up at

Patti. "What's wrong with it?"

Brenda responded. "Don't even try Patti. I've been

trying to get him to ease up since we got here, but once he discovered
southwestern food, there's been no stopping him."

Brenda was probably right. But damn this food is good. So I

liberally dosed the whole thing with tapatio hot sauce and dug in, while the
two of them ate their more sensible meals.

I ate quietly while the two of them caught up. Over the last

several years, their contact had been limited to tracking each other's Facebook
and the occasional note or phone call, especially during the last couple years
of Earl's battle with cancer and eventual passing. Brenda bragged about her
son's achievements and Patti shared pictures of her grandchildren that hadn't
been posted on Facebook. Patti had spent the last two years selling off their
rafting company to a couple of her senior guides, and wrapping up her affairs
with the intent of selling the remote property she and Earl had lived on. Her
plan was to move somewhere more sensible. She was wistful about this, and Patti
offered the appropriate condolences and words of encouragement.

Our brunch complete, we drove home to the "active

living" retirement community Patti and I had bought into. Our home wasn't
large or particularly fancy, but it was comfortable and came with the added
bonus of the small guest house.  bought it with the intention of moving
Brenda’s mother in, but sadly she had passed before we could get that done.

Nonetheless Patti gushed over the house. She said it was a

palace, compared to the cozy but rustic double-wide manufactured home that she
and Earl had lived in. We got her settled in the guest house, and then all
decided to take a well-earned siesta, before meeting back up for dinner.

Sedated by the huevos rancheros, I dozed lazily on our bed

with Brenda's warmth snuggled up to me, her head on my shoulder. She played
with my chest hair under my shirt, dozing herself, but roused me with a
startling statement.

"I hope I go before you do." she said softly.

"Huh?"

She sighed. "I don't want to be alone Jim, not at our

age. And I don't think I could stand losing another husband."

"Is this about the huevos rancheros?"

She pinched one of my nipples. "Jerk." she said,

with a small laugh. "But no, not really. Patti looks and sounds lost,
unmoored. I don't think I could live like that."

“So, you want me to go through losing my second spouse, so

you don’t have to? Got it!”

I yawned a little.

“Okay, You got me there, Jim,” she chuckled. “But back to

Patti; I just feel her empty sadness. She tries hard to move past it.”

 "She should go move in with one of her kids, be

around her grandchildren. That would perk her up, give her some purpose."

"Maybe." Brenda said. We both yawned and drafted

into sleep.

Patti padded into our kitchen in bare feet, through the open

sliding door, as Brenda and I were doing some early prep for dinner.

"You do know, you two are living in heaven, right? It's

the middle of February and I'm walking around barefoot in shorts and a tank
top." She said with a laugh.

"You should be here in the summer." I responded. I

gestured to the outside with the chef's knife I was using to prep the meat for
the kabobs I was going to grill. "Then it's the Opposite of heaven out
there. You would have fried your feet on the stones."

"But it's a dry heat, right?" Patti asked.

"Yeah." Brenda chuckled. "Like a pizza

oven."

Patti slid onto a stool at the small center island, opposite

from where I was cutting up the meat. She wasn't wearing a bra under her tank
top, and I got a glimpse of her small tits, when she leaned over to inspect the
cuts of meat I was working on. I registered that they were remarkably firm and
high for a woman of her age, and the lack of any tan lines suggested she spent
a lot of the summer months, topless outdoors. I flushed a little with
embarrassment, and quickly returned my attention to my work.

"Lamb?" she inquired. While chomping on a piece of

carrot.

"Yes, it’s kitten?" I answered with a small laugh.

"Smart ass."

"Yes, it's lamb. Any objections to raiding Bo Peep’s

heard?"

She shook her head. "Nope. It sounds delicious,

actually."

"Oh it is!" Brenda answered. "We had some

Armenian friends, back in Chicago; who gave us a wonderful recipe." She
placed a large glass bowl filled with a marinade of yogurt and sliced onions
next to me, on the counter, which I started depositing the cubes of lamb into.

"Sounds interesting, and very authentic." Patti

said.

I finished cubing the lamb, sealed the bowl with plastic

wrap and placed it in the refrigerator. I glanced at my watch. "I need to
get to the store for a few things. You two need anything?"

Brenda did a quick inspection of the cupboards and the

refrigerator.

"Pick up a couple of boxes of wine, if you’re going to

Costco. A pinot for the lamb I think, and maybe a nice chardonnay, too."

"Don't we have a couple of boxes already?"

"Uh huh, both reds."

I kissed Brenda's cheek, grabbed my keys and wallet off the

counter, and headed for the garage. "Be back soon, hun. You and Patti be
good. And Patti, I apologize in advance for the bad influence Brenda is going
to be, during your visit."

Brenda slapped my ass as I exited.

I really didn't need anything, I just wanted to escape the

girl talk that was sure to be transpiring in the kitchen. It seemed a more
polite solution than disappearing into my small den to watch television. Brenda
needs this ‘girl time’ but I need to not get annoyed by the hen chatter. I took
my time wandering the aisles of Costco with no real intent of buying anything
other than the requested boxes of wine. I got a basmati rice to go with the
lamb and maybe one or two personal toiletries, to make my cover story
plausible.

As I thoughtlessly browsed, the image of Patti's pointy tits

kept flashing across my vision. I’ve been completely faithful to Brenda since
we met, as I had been to my late wife, Janice. But even at 69 years old, I'm
still a man and am bound to look and even fantasize a little. I have always
been a boobs guy, regardless of size. Big and bouncy, small and perky, high and
firm or even a little saggy. They all have their charms. Janice's had been on
the small side, possibly a B Cup, but nicely raised, with nipples the color of
cherries.

My reverie on tits was interrupted.

"Excuse me sir. Would you mind?"

The young woman pushing a cart with a screaming toddler in

tow, was waiting for me to roll my cart away from the display of cherries I had
been standing in front of.

"Oh ... sorry .... of course." I flushed a little

with embarrassment, as if she knew what I had been thinking about. It didn't help
that her extraordinary endowments were encased in a tight white tee shirt. Her
tits were lactating and I think she was needing her child right now, to relieve
her mammaries of this distress. I hustled away to pay for what I had in the
cart and headed home.

When I got home, Brenda and Patti were sitting on the patio,

chatting and sipping red wine from a couple of oversized wine glasses. They
were nibbling on some sort of "healthy" potato chips Brenda had
bought. I thought the chips were vile.

I put away what I had bought, started the rice in the rice

cooker. I grabbed a beer from the refrigerator, a bag of old-fashioned pretzel
sticks, and joined them.

"So, Patti, what do you think of the southwest desert,

so far?" I said as I settled onto a chair. She had never been to Arizona
before.

She squinted into the sunset that was just starting over

‘White Tank’ Mountains and then scanned the low scrub of the desert area that
our home backed up to. "It's nice I suppose. Very different from
Idaho." She looked at me with a twinkle in her eye. "Do you know when
they plan to finish the landscaping?"

"Good one." Brenda said. "Well, we'll do some

touristy stuff while you are here. Maybe take a drive up to Flagstaff, so you
can see that we actually do have trees and mountains."

We chatted amiably for a while about nothing in particular.

Brenda and Patti refilled their glasses at least once as I went through two
beers, and I finished the bag of pretzels. I checked my watch and rose from my
chair. "I should get the kabobs started." I said as I headed to the
kitchen.

"No more pretzels for you." Brenda called to my

retreating back. "That's enough sodium for one day mister. You know what
your doctor told you."

“Say’s the wino who can’t walk straight” I quipped, as I

skewered the kabobs. Brenda meant well of course, but sometimes I rankled under
her dietary guidance. Sometimes she needs a dose of humility, too.

I lit the fire pit for warmth while the kabobs were

grilling, and we ate dinner on the patio. The clear skies of that day, meant
the desert night air would be chilly overnight. Patti appreciated the lamb and
complimented me on how perfectly it was grilled.

Brenda and Patti cleared the table while I relaxed. My bare

feet propped up on the edge of the fire pit. Patti was right, we were living in
heaven. Back in Chicago we would have been wrapped in sweaters in our den with
the fireplace going and the heat on, to beat back the below freezing
temperatures outside.

"Jim, why don't you start the Jacuzzi?" Brenda

called from the kitchen as they finished cleaning up. "The sky will be
very pretty tonight, and it will be a nice way to finish the day."

"Sure hun." I called back. I grabbed the remote

for the Jacuzzi off the small table next to me. The small 4-person remote
controlled above-ground Jacuzzi was one of the few small luxuries of our home
that we both appreciated. There wasn't enough privacy in our backyard for it to
have been the scene of any hanky-panky between us, but it was nice on
relatively cold nights before bed. Maybe we’ll enclose it this summer.

Patti trotted past me to the guest house. "That sounds

great! I'll change and meet you two in the Jacuzzi."

Brenda followed Patti out, stood behind my seat, and rested

her hands on my shoulders. She kissed the top of my head, right in the middle
of my expanding bald spot. "I love you." she said, with a little more
emphasis than the situation warranted.

I craned my head up to look at her. She was looking towards

the guest house where Patti was changing. "I love you too hun." I
reached up and squeezed her hands.

I was changed and into the Jacuzzi sipping on a beer before

either Brenda or Patti. Patti came out of the guest house in one of the large,
fuzzy hotel style robes we kept there for guests. As she walked past the
Jacuzzi she said, "I need another glass of wine."

Both she and Brenda had drank a lot of wine through dinner

and over dessert. "What the heck." I thought. We were all retired and
didn't have anywhere to be in the morning. I heard them both chatting in the
kitchen and glasses clinking as they both got more wine.

When they came out of the kitchen slider, they were a study

in contrasts. Patti had discarded the robe. She replaced the short tank top she
had been wearing during the day for a spandex tankini top, and was wearing dark
colored tight-fitting boy-short type briefs. The tankini's hem was high enough
above the top of the briefs that I could just make out her still flat belly,
lightly silvered with faint stretch marks. My Brenda was in a demurer
one-piece, showing all her womanly curves. Despite the modest cut of the suit,
her ample cleavage was still on display. They both slid into the tub with
satisfied sighs, and sipped at their wine.

"This has been a wonderful day, you two. Thank you so

much for having me."

"You're always welcome." I said.

"You're such a doll Jim" Patti replied.

"Isn't he though?" Brenda said.

I shrugged off the compliment "You're both just buzzed

from all the wine and satisfied from dinner." They both laughed and
agreed.

"Hey, you know what this reminds me of?" Brenda

said.

"I know exactly what you're thinking. Hot tubbing after

those snowmobiling trips in the Upper Peninsula we took in college." Patti
said.

"Oh my god yes!” Brenda gushed. “What was that guide's

name we had for a couple of years."

Patti lolled her head back, closed her eyes and said

"George." She drew it out. Obviously, George had made an impression.

Brenda smiled. "Gorgeous George."

Patti chuckled without opening her eyes or looking up

"Uh huh, Gorgeous George."

Then they looked at each other and said in unison "Big

George." and giggled like sorority girls at a frat party.

"Ahem." I said. "Someone else is here."

Now, I'm not a prude and not jealous of any of Brenda's

former lovers. We had all come of age in the wild 70s, the post-pill and
pre-AIDS era. I had my share of shags and flings during that time. I just
didn't necessarily want to hear about 'Big George.'

"Sorry love." Brenda said, squeezing my thigh.

Patti sighed. "I do miss it though."

"Snowmobiling?" I offered.

"I think she means sex, dear." Brenda was clearly

a little tipsy. “She’s not a nun, you know.”

"Oh sure, I miss sex. But what I really miss; is having

a big warm body to snuggle up to; on a cold mountain night."

"You could always get a big dog." I quipped.

"Or a man." Brenda offered, her tone a little

pointed. Brenda can get really bawdy when she’s had her fill of wine.

Patti shook her head. "I'm too old and impatient for the

dating scene. No, what I need is someone to just magically appear out of
nowhere." She glanced at me briefly, a slight blush in her cheeks coming
through her tan. She took a drink of wine to cover her embarrassment. Brenda
seemed oblivious to what had just happened. Patti had been looking me up and
down. My hairy stocky body was dressed in only a pair of burgundy swim trunks.

'Okay' I thought. 'This just got a little awkward'.

Patti finished off her umpteenth glass of wine, then stood

up and

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