Bridge Engineering: Part 2

Why is my mom here?

Based on a post by Architect 23 94, in 3 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Connected.

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I awoke to the sound of Lizzie's bathroom door opening and
closing, and the girls' footsteps moving around her bedroom. I laid there for a
minute then reluctantly pulled myself out of bed to splash some water on my
face and slip on a pair of flannel lounge pants and a t-shirt.

I emerged from my bedroom and looked down in the great room
to see the girls standing by the sofa looking at Stefani as she slept.

Toni heard me coming down the stairs and asked, "Why is
my mom here?"

Lizzie followed that with the accurate but impolite
assessment, "Her makeup is all smeared."

Before I could say anything, Toni shook her mom's shoulder
and loudly inquired, "Mom! Mom! Are you ok?!"

Stefani stirred, stretched her legs under the blankets, and
drowsily answered, "Yes honey, I'm fine. Mom just had a really rough
night."

Seemingly satisfied with that answer, Toni and Lizzie went
into the pantry and started lining up cereal boxes while debating the merits of
each selection.

By that time, I was also downstairs and gently offered,
"Good morning" to Stefani as I went about rekindling the hearth. She
moaned as she sat up on the sofa and said, "I'm so embarrassed. I can't
believe I came here like that last night."

"I'm glad you did. I don't know what that was all
about, but I was happy to know you were here and safe."

She gave a muffled "Thank you." while she hung her
head and cradled it in her hands, then mumbled to herself, "I can't
believe I thought he would be any different."

Toni must have had one ear tuned into our conversation and
interjected in an annoyed tone of voice, "Is this about a man?"

Lizzie looked at Toni, then at me and matter-of-factly said,
"She should go sit on the bridge." It was an unquestionable truth in
Lizzie's mind that time sitting on the bridge would fix whatever was bothering
Toni's mom.

I smiled and said, "Lizzie, I think that is a great
idea."

She puffed her chest proudly and went about pouring a bowl
of cereal.

I finished adding logs to the fire and suggested to Stefani,
"There's a half-bath by the kitchen, or you're welcome to use my bathroom
upstairs if you would like a shower. I'll pull together some fresh clothes for
you. When you are ready, I think we should go for a walk;” then in a
slightly louder voice added, "away from little eavesdroppers."

"You really wouldn't mind if I took a shower?"

"Not at all. I'll get you some towels and
toiletries."

The corners of her mouth turned upward in a small smile of
gratitude and, for the first time that morning, Stefani looked me directly in
the eyes and offered a very heart-felt, "Thank you."

She stood up, pulled the hem of her dress down, and followed
me up the stairs in her black legging covered feet. At the top of the stairs, I
reached in the linen closet and handed her a stack of two bath towels, a hand
towel, and a washcloth. My hands then sorted through some of the miscellaneous
toiletries stored in the same closet and added a toothbrush, toothpaste, and
stick of pre-teen girly deodorant.

I apologized as I set the brightly patterned container on
top of the towels, "Sorry, you're stuck with this unless you want to use
men's deodorant."

Returning to our inventory of toiletries, I started checking
labels on bottles of Lizzie's 2-in-1 bodywash and shampoo, "Ok, looks like
your choices are strawberry, cotton candy, or bubble gum."

She chuckled and said, "I think I'll go with
strawberry."

"Good call."

We proceeded into my bedroom where I motioned her toward the
ensuite bathroom and said, "Make yourself at home and use whatever you
need in there. I'm pretty sure the door locks. To be honest, I've never used
it."

She surveyed the bedroom and its contents on her way to the
bathroom and I walked the opposite direction toward my walk-in closet.

"I'll find some clothes while you are in the shower and
set them on the corner of the bed."

She softly said, "Thank you." while walking into
the bathroom and shutting the door behind her. I proceeded to rummage through
my closet looking for things that might work. I knew my clothes made for a
6'-3" tall man wouldn't fit her properly, but they were the only option
available.

My hands methodically moved across the wall rack, sliding
each hanger a bit so I could examine the respective article. After a few
minutes, I heard the sounds of Stefani turning on the shower, opening the glass
shower door, and then water sporadically splashing against the tile and glass
enclosure. My mind came to the awareness that there was a completely naked
woman in my shower, just on the other side of the door. I couldn't help but
think of how her intimate features must look as the steaming spray trickled
down her body.

Realizing I was standing there inappropriately fantasizing
about a woman in a questionable emotional condition, I snapped myself out of it
and continued thumbing through hangers to arrive at a pair of heavy flannel
lounge pants. They were a much too small Christmas gift from years past, but I
figured they would work for Stefani if she rolled the pant legs up a little. A
t-shirt and sweatshirt seemed like the obvious choices for her upper half given
a lot of women like relaxing in oversized men's clothes anyway.

Organizing my selections, I noticed there weren't any
undergarments and shrugged it off thinking she would just have to re-use what
she had on, or go commando, but then had a last-second thought to grab a pair
of boxer shorts. I folded everything neatly, set the items in a pyramiding
stack on the corner of the bed, and closed the bedroom door behind me on the
way out.

About 30-minutes later, the girls were in Lizzie's room and
I was sitting in the great room when Stefani padded down the stairs in bare
feet wearing the lounge pants and the oversized t-shirt that was slightly moist
around the collar from her damp curls. The t-shirt clung a little to her moist
torso and gave evidence of her unrestrained tits jiggling under the fabric. She
smiled as she reached the main floor and softly said, "Thank you. I really
needed that."

"You're welcome. Are you hungry?"

"Not really, my stomach is still turning a little from
last night." she said as she sat next to me on the sofa and folded her
legs beneath her. "I'm so sorry for the drama. I wasn't thinking clearly
and I'm thoroughly embarrassed I showed up here like that."

"Please don't be. Like I said earlier, I'm just happy
to know you're safe. You seemed pretty traumatized."

Stefani replied, "Traumatized is probably a little
strong." before seemingly pausing to consider if she wanted to offer any
more information. She exhaled loudly and hesitantly continued, "I've had
some; let's call them; rocky roads in my personal life, and last night was just
the latest example."

I sympathetically offered, "I'm sorry."

She shrugged her shoulders and introspectively recapped,
"I've worked with him for several years and thought he was a nice guy; and
he was until he started drinking. Dinner was enjoyable, but by the time we all
got to the dance club he was pretty buzzed and started getting handsy. When I
rebuffed his advances, he got belligerent and more forceful."

Stefani's eyes were beginning to swell as she recounted the
previous evening's events in her head. My own head was filled with questions
and concerns, but I sensed she had more to say and didn't want to hinder her in
getting it out.

"Thankfully, my coworkers saw what was happening and
interceded. He took off and that was the end of it."

She paused for a moment then tearily continued, "It's
not just him. Last night wasn't the first time something like this happened. I
seem to be a magnet for jerks and losers. At least this one wasn't married; that
I know of."

"I'm sorry."

She quietly repeated to herself something she had said the
previous night, "Why can't I escape it?"

I couldn't hold back my curiosity, "You said that last
night too. What do you mean you can't escape 'it'?"

She answered coldly through her tears, "Alcohol,"
before pausing for a few quick moments to gather herself and continuing,
"It ruined my marriage. It robbed Toni of a father. It turned my coworker
into a creep last night. Etc, etc;”

I took her hand in mine and said, "I'm sorry. I
understand."

She abruptly pulled her hand from mine and argued, "I
appreciate your compassion, but please don't say you understand."

I stood up and said, "I think we should go for a walk
outside."

I didn't really give her an opportunity to say no and walked
to the mudroom to get a jacket. I put mine on, then handed one to Stefani as
she followed me. We both slipped on a pair of my fleece lined muck boots. The
boots and jacket were both too large for her, but they would suffice.

I shouted to the girls that Stefani and I were going on a
walk, then we stepped outside.

As we strolled away from the house and into the woods, I
inquired, "Please tell me about your ex-husband."

"Well, we met in college and he