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To all women being able to choose.
CHAPTER 1
STUCK
MOLLIE NOW
I’m stuck.
You’d think I’d be talking about my life metaphorically, since I just got divorced, watched my mother die, and moved from the home I’ve lived in for almost ten years.
Nope.
I’m literally stuck and all I can do is laugh at myself.
When I arrived today at my mother’s beach house, now mine I guess, I immediately put a swimsuit on, and walked straight into the ocean. They say salt water is healing, and it has always calmed me and made me feel safe.
The next best thing to swimming in the ocean, is a delightful outdoor shower right after. I try the door and I realize that somehow it got locked from the inside. After a summer of renters, I took the opportunity to escape my life and come down to Long Beach Island, New Jersey. Apparently, the last renter somehow locked the shower door and then shimmied out.
Naturally, I decide to go that route myself. I lay down and slide my head and shoulders under the door, then my small chest, and my not as small as it used to be abdomen. When I try to get my generous hips and ass through is when I find myself in a jam.
I like my shape. At 35 years old, my boobs are still tilting up, probably because they are small, and my ass is round and my hips shapely. My mom called them childbearing hips. Which was funny until it wasn’t anymore.
So, here I am, in my favorite bright red bikini, half inside the shower which has a lovely dank smell and moldy atmosphere. I’m sure there are a few spiders ready to feast on my body once I die here alone. I wiggle my hips to try to get myself through but it only makes things worse, because now my pretty suit is snagged on a giant splinter hanging from the door.
“Help,” I say in a normal voice, because it’s September and there’s no one around to hear me. Except, I do hear someone next door running a saw. When the saw stops, I shout for help again.
“Hello?” a deep voice asks in response.
“Hi!” I call out, trying to keep the panic out of my tone. “I’m stuck and would love some help.”
“Okay, I’m coming to your yard, hold on,” he says and I should be more mortified than I am but I’m so relieved to have someone come to my rescue.
“Okay, wow, so you are stuck,” he says with a little chuckle.
“Hey, no laughing,” I scold.
“Sorry, how do you want to do this? I could remove the door or we could try to dig around you so you could wiggle through.”
“Let’s try the digging first and if you could unhook my suit from the door that would be awesome.”
He kneels down near me and digs a little around my ass. Again, should be mortifying, but I don’t give a fig if it’ll get me out of here. I’m able to slide a little to the side so he can reach under me. It’s slow going because it’s hard-packed sand and dirt.
I feel him release the fabric of my bikini bottom and I let out a breath.
“Give it a try,” he says and puts a little pressure on my feet.
Immediately, I feel myself sliding through and am able to get up and dust myself off. Something is missing I realize and when I look down, I am bottomless. I look around for my swim suit bottoms but they are gone.
“Hey, I have your bottoms, but they are completely torn.” Of course they are.
“Hand them over,” I say, poking my hand under the door.
He obliges and they are torn clean down the middle. I could put them back on but it would be a full-frontal situation.
“Shit,” I say and look around the shower for something to cover me.
“Here,” he calls as he slides a colorful beach towel under the door.
