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National Nude Day Story Contest; Good wife does a bad thing.

"Gosh, son, there's an old buffer in the back here, if I can find it, but I don't think that it's been used in twenty years." He took me back into the mechanical room, past the boiler for the radiators, and pulled it out, a heavy, old, black buffer, with pads on it that looked like they had never been used. There was some Johnson's Paste Wax back there as well, a can that had a quarter inch of dust on it, and had never been opened.

I spent a good part of Saturday waxing and buffing the hardwood floor in my apartment, and I had to say, the floors looked really good. I dusted every surface, washed down the woodwork, and cleaned the tiny kitchen within an inch of its life. I didn't know if Jennifer would ever come to my apartment, but if she did, I wanted it looking good.

Yeah, I had it bad!

Sunday morning came, and I was still thinking about Jennifer. I decided to do something I hadn't done since school started: I would go to Mass. The Newman Center on Rose Street served as the Catholic chapel for the campus, but I had never been there. I tried to remember: the sign out front had the times for Mass, and I think that there was one set for 9:00 AM. Jennifer was a devout Christian girl, from some very conservative Protestant denomination. I had wanted to ask her what denomination it was, but that question seemed a bit more personal than I wanted to ask, and it might raise the question of where I went to church, and bring up the fact that I hadn't been to church since last May. I had even blown off Easter last Sunday, and that was an absolute no-no in the Catholic Church! Mass was at 9:00, and the priest was decidedly young. I had to skip Communion, because I hadn't gone to Confession, but I still felt a lot better after Mass. The homily was about the sanctity of marriage, and maybe that was something I really needed to hear, because I could already tell: I was falling in love with Jennifer Matthews!

Jennifer's story

My father never noticed anything different about me, but mom did. I had found some nail polish remover of Monica's, and cleaned the polish off my fingernails. I ditched the Aigner sandals that Rachel had given me, and had on my old black-and-white saddle oxfords. I wanted to keep my jeans on rather than change into a skirt, and used the excuse that I needed to launder all of my clothes. There were washers and dryers in the basement of Blazer Hall, but it was never easy to catch them empty, and I usually took my laundry home on the weekends. Friday evening meal was a quiet affair, with simple farm fare, but mom's cooking was, as always, wonderful. I think that if all we had to eat was a pair of old leather boots, mom could make them taste good.

Saturday was chores day for me, and I had the great pleasure of mucking out the horse stalls. Dad was tinkering with the old 1946 International Harvester tractor he had, and got it running, belching out black diesel smoke. I had been thinking of Mark while I was cleaning out the stalls, when mom came in, and caught me smiling.

"Jennifer? Smiling while you're mucking out the barn?"

"Oh, mom, it's just that even doing this is so much more homelike than living in that dorm." Yeah, it was more homelike, since this was my home, but, in reality, I had just lied to my mother! "I mean, the girls in the dorm are nice and all, but they're kind of like strangers to me, they're so different."

Mom acted like she bought it, but I wasn't certain. "And is that why your hair looks different?"

"Different? I haven't cut it, if that's what you mean."

"No, I mean the texture."

"Oh, that! My hair was getting a lot of tangles, and Monica gave me some of her cream rinse to use. It makes it a lot easier to brush out my hair, and it does seem to be softer and shinier."

"Hmmm." With that, mom turned around and left, but I was pretty sure that she had seen right through me. If she asked me, how was I going to answer any questions about boys? Fortunately, she let it drop.

Sunday morning a

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