“C’mon in, Sherry,” he said. Ron was a little nervous, but hoped he was hiding it well. He stepped back from the door to let the woman into the foyer.
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This was all his wife’s idea. He’d been an amateur photographer for years, mostly landscapes, travel shots, family photos, stuff like that. He’d gotten honorable mention in a national contest for a silhouette shot he took of the Temple of Poseidon at Sounion Bay in Greece. But secretly, he’d always wanted to photograph a nude model. He’d kept it to himself for many years, but this year the subject came up when Anna took art lessons at the local community college. One day, she came home and showed him her sketches of a slightly pudgy older man who was nude.
“Wow! How did you feel about painting this guy?” he asked. His wife had always been modest to the point of being a prude, but she’d never actually said how she felt about other people being naked.
“It was no big deal, really. Artists have to learn this. I thought it would be awkward, but after a while, it was just like painting a bowl of fruit or something.” One thing led to another, and Roger mentioned he’d always wanted to try nude photography. “No way I’m doing that!” she cried. “Those things always end up on the internet!”
“No, not you, silly! It would be kind of hard for me to be professional about taking pictures of my own wife.”
“You etiler escort don’t think I look good enough?”
“You’d look fantastic, honey. But I don’t think I could control you the way I would a model. Let’s just forget about it, ok?”
And they did, at least for a couple of weeks. One afternoon after work, Anna started talking about her day while they fixed dinner. “I saw Sherry this morning. She and Keith are finally getting a divorce.” Keith and Sherry were probably the world’s worst-matched couple. He was a nerdy, quiet type who just wanted a mundane life — go to work every day, come home to dinner with the family, watch some TV, then go to bed. He was pretty much a dull guy whose dream life would bore anyone with a heart or brain. Sherry had both. They had come from conservative missionary families. He’d spent much of his childhood in Mexico, while she’d grown up in Egypt. Their parents met between missions at their home church in Arizona. They decided early on that Keith and Sherry would be a missionary dream team — by the time Keith was in college and Sherry was in high school, their engagement and wedding was a foregone conclusion. By the time they’d been married for five years and had three kids, the divorce was a foregone conclusion, too.
Sherry was statuesque, with a model’s eve gelen escort face and figure. She loved to wear miniskirts to show off her lovely legs, but wasn’t very adept at sitting modestly. Her runner’s thighs pushed her knees outward, and Ron usually knew what color Sherry’s panties were before she left after an evening of dinner and talk. Occasionally, she’d catch him sneaking a peek. He didn’t care — if she didn’t want him to see, why did she dress like that? But the stunning first impression she made because of her looks was eventually overcome by the realization that, behind the hazel eyes of this life-long, stay-at-home mom, was a first class intellect. Ron suspected she just might be a genius. He’d read in an Einstein biography that it was Einstein’s habit to utter non sequitors. Only years later would people realize that, rather than changing the subject, he was simply making a leap of logic they were incapable of following at the time. Sherry was like that. Her spirit and intellect were wasted on Keith. Even emotionally, he was a child. She would have left many years ago, but felt a strong commitment to raise the children in a stable home. Now, here she was in her early 40’s, her youngest child was ready to leave home, and so was she.
“We knew that was coming,” he replied, shaking his fatih escort head as if the only mistake had been waiting so long.
“Yeah, but she’s worried. Less than a year of college and no job experience, ever.”
“C’mon. It’s Sherry. She can do anything she wants if she puts her mind to it.”
“She can, but she has to make money first. No one is putting up signs saying “Genius Wanted, No Experience Necessary.”
“Guess you’re right. Does she have any ideas?”
“I’m glad you asked. In high school, a friend had told her she should be a model. She told me that thought kept creeping into her head every time she considered leaving Keith. Then I mentioned you were interested in hiring a model. What do you think?”
“What? I never said that! Why did you tell her that?”
“Oh, come on. You said you wanted to take some nude photos. Well, here’s your chance.”
“Did you tell her she would have to take her clothes off?”
“Yes, dear. She didn’t blink. She said she’d get back to me when she found out what the rate was. She already called this afternoon — she said the community college pays $65 an hour. She’s not ready for a group of strangers, and she doesn’t have experience, so she’s willing to take $50 an hour to start. You know we have the money, so here’s your chance. I even scheduled her for this Saturday for three hours. I’m taking the boys to the museum. You’ll have her from 10 till 1. How about it?”
Ron objected at first, made all the excuses he could — he didn’t have the right equipment, needed to do some research on lighting and angles, wasn’t sure about taking pictures of a friend. In the end, it didn’t matter. His wife insisted because Sherry needed the money.
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