Kristin

Kate showed us to a room in a part of the house where we would be off by ourselves. I was to discover later the house was

designed with many rooms separated from other parts of the house.

“I’ll assume you two are already sleeping together so I’ll put you in here. If you want separate rooms I can arrange that.”

Kristin blushed before replying, “This will be fine, Mother.”

Celine returned after dinner with her two beautiful daughters, Sandra, almost 4 and Alessa, two and a half. I could picture

them as duplicates of Celine and Kristin when they got older. Celine introduced her husband, Mike Connell, and told me he

worked for the Environmental Protection Agency.

Celine sat at the piano and played carols for a sing-a-long. About halfway through Celine invited Kristin and her mother to

join her in a rendition of ‘Silent Night.’ “It’s been years since the three of us sang together,” Celine explained to me. “We

used to be called ‘The Jansen Family Singers’ in church.”

Later, while we were chatting in the living room, the two girls came into the room with a copy of ‘The Night Before Christmas’

for someone to read to them. Kristin said, “Why don’t you ask Uncle Paul? He’s a real good reader.”

Without hesitation the girls were in my lap and I was into my first encounter with little children.

While Kristin was showering before bed that night I placed a special gift for her on her pillow, the ribbon. This, as before, led

to passionate love making.

In the morning all the family was up early, the children to rush to the Christmas tree to see what was there for them. Any

thoughts Kristin and I had of stating in bed late were quickly banished. Sandra was very much into Christmas and the

knowledge that she would be getting new toys. Alessa wasn’t, as yet, ready for the situation.

We all sat around the Christmas tree, with a roaring fire in the fireplace, as Mike played Santa and distributed the gifts while

Kate served us hot chocolate and hot, homemade pastries. More than two hours later we were surrounded by children’s toys

and new clothing, and what seemed like a mountain of gift wrap.

The gift that opened Sandra’s eyes the most was a shiny red bicycle with training wheels. Naturally, she wanted to ride it

immediately. Kate discouraged her by saying, “Not today, Sweetie. If you look outside you’ll see that it’s snowing. Not the

right time for bicycle riding I’m afraid.” Neither Kristin nor I had noticed. We looked out the window also and saw that several

inches had already fallen.

Following a quick lunch Kate informed us we were all on our own for the afternoon while she prepared dinner in the kitchen;

dinner to be served at 5 P.M. Both Kristin and Celine offered to help, knowing in advance what Kate would say. “You’d only

be in my way, there’s room for only one woman in my kitchen.” The two backed off but only after insisting that Kate not be

allowed to do any of the cleanup after dinner.

The snow stopped, at least temporarily, early in the afternoon. By that time there was more than four inches covering the

sidewalks and streets.

“I’m going for a walk,” Kristin announced. “Anyone else want to come? Paul, I think I can find snow boots for you in the

garage, and warm clothes too.

She showed me a trunk tucked away in the garage rafters where I found a good fitting pair of boots and a warm jacket and

gloves. I also pulled down two old sleds that were hanging in the same area and suggested to Kristin that we take the kids

with us, pulling them on the sleds. When we suggested this to Celine she thought it a great idea and said she would come

too. Mike bowed out, saying he needed a nap.

We pulled the sleds for perhaps a half hour before both girls showed signs of becoming restless. After returning them to their

grandmother’s house Kristin and I went back out to explore her old neighborhood, in the snow. Things had changed little in

the six years since Kristin had last lived there full time, before starting college.

“Want to meet an old boyfriend?” Kristin asked as we approached a fire station three blocks from her house. Without waiting

for an answer she led me to the station, stuck her head inside and asked, “”Is Chuck Wallace on duty?”

“Yeah,” someone answered, then called, “Chuck, you have a visitor.”

In a few minutes a young man came to the door and looked out. As soon as he saw Kristin he said, “Kristin? I can’t believe

it. How are you?”

“I’m fine, Chuck. I want you to meet my fiancé, Paul Hammond.”

We shook hands and said, “Pleased to meet you,” to each other. Kristin then asked, “How’s your family?”

“The family’s fine. You know, don’t you, that I married Helen Metterly?” When Kristin said she hadn’t heard Chuck continued,

“Yeah, two years ago last June. We have a Chuck Jr. who’s now almost a year old. Can you stop in sometime when I’m

home and visit for a while? We can’t do much visiting standing here like this.”

Kristin got his phone number and promised to call to set up a time when he would be home for us to visit.

As we continued our walk Kristin told me more about Chuck. “We went together for almost a year in high school. Then we

both decided to date others and split up. We remained good friends, though, and frequently met at parties and dances until I

went away to college.”

Kristin walked me by the elementary school she had attended, about six blocks from her house. We were on our way to her

junior high when it started snowing again, hard. We beat a hasty retreat to the warmth of the fireplace in her house.

* * *

We stayed in Dearborn until December 29 and then flew to Florida. During those few days I was introduced to several more

of Kristin’s friends, including a young woman named Mary Francone (nee Graham) who was her best friend in high school

and was to be her bridesmaid at our wedding.

We also managed a short visit with Chuck Wallace and his wife. The visit was cut short when Chuck was called to duty

shortly after we arrived at his home.

Another snowstorm moved in on the 29th; enough snow fell to delay our takeoff from Detroit for three hours. As a result, it

was after dark when we arrived at my parents’ retirement home in Sarasota. My mother and dad, Ken and Marsha

Hammond, greeted both of us with a warm hug and sat us down for a hot meal before we even unpacked.

Mom was so excited about meeting Kristin she couldn’t stop talking. Dad was his usual quiet self, taking it all in and adding

an occasional comment. Mom wanted to know how we met, what kind of work Kristin did, what plans we had made for the

wedding.

When I reminded my mother I had told her earlier that Kristin was a model Mom said, “Oh yes, you did tell me. I guess it

didn’t register. What kind of modeling do you do?” she asked Kristin.

Mom was somewhat shocked when Kristin described her modeling activities but soon regained her aplomb and asked,

“Doesn’t it embarrass you to parade like that in front of men?”

Kristin replied, “It did at first, but then I followed Paul’s advice, which was to think of everyone in the audience as naked.”

Mom turned red and was temporarily speechless until I came to Kristin’s rescue with the comment, “Mom, I think you might

have one misconception I’d like to correct. Granted, there are models who lead unsavory lives, but there are women from all

stations in life who fit that category. You know me well enough to know I wouldn’t fall in love with a woman who wasn’t a

beautiful person, inside as well as outside. And I do love Kristin very much.

“I know, from your Puritan background, being the daughter of a minister and raised in a home that frowned on women’s

freedom, it’s hard for you to accept some of the current life styles, but believe me, you are getting a jewel as your daughter-in-

law.”

Mom was still red but she graciously turned to Kristin and said, “I apologize for my rudeness, Kristin. I should have known that

any girl Paul selected has to be a fine person.”

Kristin rose, put her arm around Mom and replied, “You don’t have to apologize. I know that modeling has its seamy side,

one I intend to avoid.”

Mom, turning red again, said, ”My Puritan side, as Paul described it, had me put the two of you in separate rooms; but, if

you’d rather I can put you in together”

This time Kristin turned red. I stepped in before she became more embarrassed by saying, “We accept your offer.”

Before retiring for the night we informed Mom and Dad about our wedding plans: the facilities at the manor and all the other

arrangements we had made. I added that, as yet I hadn’t been in touch with my childhood friends to let them know I wanted

them to attend and perhaps even participate.

We stayed with my parents for a week. During that time Kristin and my mom spent a lot of time together. I think they got to

know each other and to understand where the other was coming from. I’m sure Mom still didn’t fully approve Kristin being a

model but it appeared they had become friends.

Dad and I caught up with each other. He was in his sixties but still in excellent health and as much into fishing as he had ever

been. He took me fishing twice, once to an inland lake where we caught a number of good-sized Florida bass. The other

time we went surf casting and struck out.

Dad and I also talked about his dad, who had passed away two years ago at age 90. Grandpa had been my inspiration in

becoming a writer. He was a great story teller and had told me many stories that were the source of my Pudge stories.

We flew back to California on January 6. After a week of passive sex while visiting my parents we more than made up for it

our first few nights back. Our bed was smoldering.

* * *

With more than a month to go before Kristin’s next assignment she decided she didn’t like the way our furniture was arranged

and put me to work rearranging things. At the same time we decided to upgrade our kitchen and put in all new appliances. I

kidded Kristin about this making her a better cook. No such luck.

During this time also I was able to begin work on a new book and to revise the one I had sent to Lillian in December.

Early in January I wrote to two of my boyhood friends in Massachusetts, one still living in the house where he was raised, the

other a lawyer living in Boston, all of 30 miles away. I brought them up to date on my life, told them about Kristin and our

impending marriage and hoped they could make it to the wedding. I asked Dan Williams, the one still living in my home town,

Wayton, to be my best man. I also apologized to both for not keeping in touch.

I wrote also to two college friends, gave them the same information and invited them to the wedding. They would all receive

formal invitations when they were sent out in a few months but Kristin and I felt everyone should be told far enough ahead to

make plans.

Also, in January, Kristin and I each celebrated a birthday, her 23rd and my 28th. The celebration involved only a romantic

dinner and no other special activities except our love making, which was always special. We had been together for almost

10 months, with a love that grew deeper each day.

In mid-February I got a call from Lillian telling me my new book had been accepted for publication. I went to her office to sign

the contract and was told she was negotiating for mid-April book signings in two different cities, Dallas, Texas and Portland,

Oregon. I informed Lillian at that time of the date Kristin and I had set for the wedding, the first Saturday in June.

She immediately wrote it on her calendar.

On February 22 I flew with Kristin to Atlanta for her modeling assignment, which began on the 23rd. Our hotel was close to

the convention center where the fashion show was being held. Kristin had to report for briefing the first day, one in which I

stayed at the hotel to do some writing. Starting on the 24th and for five days Kristin had a full day each day modeling the new

designs for the coming summer. The designs ran the gamut from skimpy beach wear or board-

walk attire to up-scale fashions for afternoon teas and evening wear. As had become the case Kristin was the most

photographed model on the runway.

From Atlanta Kristin’s schedule called for her to fly to the Bahamas for the Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue. I was not allowed

to accompany her for this session; I stayed in Atlanta writing and flew to the Bahamas on March 5, at the end of her session,

so we could spend a few days cavorting on the beaches in this bit of paradise.

From Kristin’s description of the swimsuit modeling the new swimsuits had reached a new level in terms of the skin being

covered. “Wait until you see the video,” she exclaimed. “There were several bikinis that were no more than pieces of cloth

that emphasized what was being covered even more than being naked would do. Three different suits were topless and

didn’t require any use of the imagination to see the model in all her glory. If that’s the way modern trends are going I’ll have

no choice but to go with the flow.”

We flew home on March 10th following a delightful, relaxing four days on the Bahama beaches and nights of creative love

making.

Shortly after returning home the Sports Illustrated video arrived. We both watched it several times, with Kristin describing the

settings as they appeared. I had to admit to Kristin that the models were more beautiful than any group I had viewed

previously. All of them had gorgeous shapes that would sell a lot of swimsuits. As Kristin had said, the bikinis were almost

non- existent. The two topless models had breasts as good as or better than any I had seen in Playboy. But not as good as

Kristin’s, of that I was certain.

Kristin appeared on the video in four different suits. One was a complete body suit for the modest at heart, two were skimpy

bikinis that left almost nothing to the imagination and one a two piece suit with a thong bottom and a slipover top open at both

sides. I was sure that the fourth one, when wet, would provide no cover at all. Kristin agreed with me. “I’ve ordered one of

them for when we have a private beach to swim at,” she informed me.

In March we finalized all our wedding plans: made sure we had the manor and all the necessary service employees to

operate it, checked with the caterer, had our invitations printed and mailed out and completed arrangements with the

organist, the jazz group, the limo company and the photographer. We also talked with the minister at a church Kristin and I

attended occasionally and arranged for her to conduct the service, one in which we planned the order of events and the

minister was there only to make it official.

We had our blood tests and applied for our marriage license then went on a lengthy search for matching wedding rings.

Kristin made the final decision on this and made a choice that I felt I too would have made.

We had also been giving thought to where we would go for our honeymoon. We discussed a cruise and decided against it,

too many people around. We considered any one of a number of islands such as the Bahamas, Hawaii or Fiji and rejected

those as being too prosaic. We finally decided to try a secluded fishing resort in Canada, one I had read about but had never

tried.

“We can both go fishing if we want,” Kristin said, “or just hang around the lodge doing one thing or another.”

“Don’t you mean doing one thing and another?” I asked, with a grin.

“Of course.”

This then was what we agreed to do.

* * *

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