December Bride

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For forty-seven lonely years, Toby had longed for a companion to warm his nights. He had done everything in his power, it seemed. He talked to women he liked, asked them out on dates, bought paid memberships to all the hottest dating sites, and even went on retreats hosted by so-called "romance gurus," but all in vain. Not once in his whole existence had he ever gone to bed with anything other than his wishes and a box of Kleenex. They were good for more than just his tears.
His despair had reached such a point that even his job failed to fulfill him. He remembered how he felt when he'd first started working at the Carewell Home for Seniors. There was a warmth that flowed all through him, a certain knowledge that he was doing his best to make a positive difference in people's lives. Now, the daily sights and sounds only brought him pain. He would watch with jealousy as one resident or another sat in the common room, surrounded by loving family members. Will that ever be me?, Toby wondered. Then, the crippling fear of dying alone would grip him, sending him almost to his knees. It was all in a day's work.
On one dark and dreary winter day, when Toby was feeling his lowest, he met Jane. He walked into the kitchen at Carewell to find her by herself, standing precariously on a chair in front of an open cabinet, trying to reach a glass on the top shelf.
"Here," Toby said. "Let me help!"
Jane gave a yelp, obviously surprised to hear another voice. The start was enough to knock her off balance. Toby raced to catch her. As the glass shattered on the floor, Jane fell into Toby's arms. There, she shook like a leaf as Toby held her. Their eyes locked, and for a moment, both were silent.
"Oh my goodness," Jane said at last.
Toby snapped to. "Are you alright?"
"Yes," said Jane. "I think so." She turned her head slowly toward the shards of glass that littered the floor.
"Oh, don't worry about that," Toby said. "I'll clean it up."
"Oh," said Jane, clearly still in shock from her fall. "Thank you," she managed at last. She blinked a few times and let the room fall silent before speaking again. "Well," she said, "I'd better get back to work." And with that, she smiled and shuffled out of the room.
Toby was awestruck. It was a humble beginning, yes, but a beginning nonetheless. All it took was a flash of her radiant smile to burn through his haze. He knew she was the one. She had to be, if there was any justice left in the universe.
From then on, it became his goal to bring Jane home. Day after day, he found reasons to see her, often going out of his way to do so. Each time, he laid on the charm with compliments and little gifts. She lapped it up like a thirsty dog at a warm summer puddle.
Each night, Jane would consume Toby's fantasies. He imagined how she'd look, wrapped loosely in a silken nightgown that fluttered in the cold night air, how her nipples would harden from the chill and mark the fabric so seductively. Then, he saw her in nothing at all, the moonlight bathing her skin as his hands ran all the way down her torso, finding at last the prize between her thighs. Making love to Jane became more than a desire. It was a need, as real to Toby as food or air.
At last, his opportunity came. It was late in the year, and the days were prematurely dark. As the other members of the staff were busy hanging New Year's decorations, Toby and Jane stole an opportunity to slip away.
"Jane," he said once they were alone. "I really like you."
"I like you, too," she said with a bat of her eyelashes.
Toby blushed and nearly swooned, but found it within himself to continue. "Well, I was wondering.... I thought maybe... you'd like to come to my place."
"Okay," said Jane with an enthusiastic nod.
Toby was ecstatic. He wasted no time. Peering out into the hallway, he could see the coast was clear, and that they wouldn't be discovered as they slipped out. How stupid his co-workers were, he thought. No one, it seemed, was ever watching when they should have been.
He shielded Jane from the cold as they both hurried across the parking lot to his car. "Where are we going, Jimmy?" she asked.
Toby smiled. It was adorable the way she would forget things. It had become a part of their daily interactions. He knew better than to try and correct a dementia sufferer, so he simply replied, "We're going to my house."
"Oh," said Jane, seeming to understand. "Are we going to see Linda?"
"Uh... sure," Toby said. He would let her think whatever she wanted, as long as it made her compliant.
All through the drive, Toby could barely contain his excitement. He throbbed against the inside of his jeans imagining the dear little yelps his young tool would fetch from Jane. How long had it been since her last time? At least twenty, maybe thirty years? So much time to tighten back up, Toby thought.
He was sure there would be no need for Kleenex tonight.
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