I had just dumped a pile of clean, warm laundry onto my bed and turned on my folding companion, The Desperate Housewives. It was the episode where Susan (Terri Hatcher's character) was molested by an 80 year old newly engaged neighbor on her front porch. After planting a big wet kiss on her lips, he growled "that's the stuff". Susan tells her husband of the incident and he laughs and says "it was just a kiss".
Just a kiss! Summer of 1995, my husband and I rented a modest beach house in Fire Island across the street from the ocean. It was the perfect place for our three year old daughter. The community was small, microscopic in fact. I was watched, talked about and black balled within the first week. My out-going friendly nature attracted the wrong neighbor. We were invited to a cocktail party on our first weekend by an older couple, with grown children. They wanted to know if we played tennis and whether we were considering buying realestate in FireIsland. Being lowly renters, the community needed to explore our real intentions for sharing their ocean and ferry transport. This was our fourth summer renting in Fire Island. We rented in FairHarbor, Saltaire and this was our second Summer in Dunewood. Upon leaving the party, the host insisted that we play doubles Monday morning. I would be his partner.
My husband left on the 6:00 pm Sunday ferry. My daughter and I shouted goodbye till we couldn't see him waiving back. On our walk back to our humble shack, we ran into my silver fox tennis partner. He gave me an uncomfortably long hug and reminded me of our 9:30 am game. I didn't like him.
Next morning my daughter was eating cheerios and watching Ninja turtles and I was drinking a cup of coffee and reading the Times. I heard a knock at the screen door, I looked up and Mr. Wimbledon stood smiling with racket in hand. I got up to open the door and he whispered "Don't be late" and then leaned into my face, pressing his lips and tongue into my mouth and quickly sashayed away. I stood motionless on my front porch and looked over at my daughter who was still entranced by overactive turtles. I called my sitter and told her to come over right away. I aggressively applied my sunscreen, kissed my daughter goodbye and grabbed my balls. I told the girls I'd meet them at the Bay beach in an hour.
When I arrived on the court, sponge lips blew me an air kiss. I shook hands with the two opponents and crossed the court to have a word with my partner. I looked him in the eyes and said, "you are a deviant, and after this game I will no longer have anything to do with you, come near me again and everyone in Dunewood will know about your atrocious behavior." We played the set and won and did not exchange one word to each other. I told my husband what had happened, he confronted him on the beach in front of his wife. That's when we were informed of his pacemaker.