Oscar Night by Jennifer Brock When we left off, our hero David Fine the novelist turned Hollywood screenwriter had just had a date in New York City with the beautiful fashion model Maritza Delgado, who he'd met through his friend clothing designer turned Hollywood costumer Claude Marsh. In this installment, David learns that unexpected hair loss does not always lead to tragedy.

Part 3

When he returned to California, David made a commitment to get himself in better shape for when he saw Maritza again. Remembering something she had said, he asked Claude what he knew about waxing, but Claude was in one of his moods. “Are you asking me because I’m your gay friend, and the gays are into grooming?”

“Not exactly. I’m asking because you’re my style guru.”

“I suppose that is an acceptable reason, Grasshopper. Now when dealing with unsightly body hair there are several things to consider. What areas were you thinking of waxing?”

“I think it was mostly my chest hairs that were bothering her.”

“Her? Aha! Better grooming wasn’t your idea originally, and you’re doing this at the behest of some female? And here I thought my good habits were just rubbing off on you.”

“Yeah, my date with Maritza went well, and I’m hoping I can see her again, but I thought I’d try to fix a few things about my appearance. It’s hard enough that she’s so much younger, but she’s also a professional gorgeous person. It’s very intimidating. But I figured it would be a good gesture to at least make some kind of effort at improvement.”

“That sounds wise. But don’t sell yourself short. You’re quite a catch: decent guy, best-selling novelist, academy-nominated screenwriter, general C-List celebrity. I’d make a play for you myself if you weren’t stuck on that whole vagina thing. But anyway, back to grooming. If you only take the hair off one area, you might look like one of those cheap gorilla costumes, where there’s a hard plastic chest surrounded by fake fur — it’s not a good look. So you want to do all the adjacent areas, too. Chest leads to shoulders and stomach, shoulders lead to arms and back, stomach leads to legs and crotch, back leads to butt.”

“That’s like everything! I don’t want to get rid of all my hair! And what do you mean ‘crotch?’ I’m definitely not waxing my pubes!”

“It really looks bad when only one zone is hairless. Trust me on this one. Ok, sometimes if you leave a little patch of pubic hair it’s ok, but you definitely want to get the hair off your genitals.”

“No way! The last time I trusted you I wore a pimp suit! I am definitely not letting someone pour hot wax on my balls.”

“It might not have to be hot wax. Of the nine standard methods of hair removal, only one of them involves hot wax. But really, didn’t you think Maritza’s hairless genitals looked sexy? So could yours.”

“What? Aren’t you supposed to be gay? Why were you looking at the naked crotch of the woman who maybe could be my girlfriend?”

“Way to commit there, Casanova. Anyway, she must have turned you stupid or something. You completely forgot how you met her. She’s worked shows for me, and I insist on using girls who are clear-cut. It prevents mishaps when showing lingerie or swimwear. Just in case you’re curious, I also insist they be free of tattoos and body piercings so as not to distract from the fashions. Oh and I seem to have guessed correctly that you got a peek at her smooth goodies, so way to go, Stud. But we’re straying. You’ve got your nine methods: shaving, chemical depilatories, tweezing, power tweezing epilators, hot wax, cold wax, sugaring, lasers, and electrolysis. With your coloring, I’d recommend laser hair removal. It doesn’t hurt as much as wax, and is more permanent, but more convenient than electrolysis. If you skip shaving for a few days and let your stubble grow they can even do your face, and it would be smooth and nice for when your girlfriend comes back.”

“I guess I’ll just have to trust you on this one.”

So three days later, Claude got David an appointment with an esthetician he knew, and took him to the office personally. He had signed David up for full treatment, and he was feeling a little guilty about having an ulterior motive for wanting David’s body completely hairless, but he rationalized it with the thought that it truly was a better look than partial smoothness would be.

The place seemed to be the epitome of the Beverly Hills lifestyle to David. The attendants all looked like bikini models or fashion dolls come to life. The receptionist gave him this lemon grass/green tea smoothie to drink while he was waiting. When a technician came and took him into a room, she turned around and had him strip off his clothes and lie on a table covered only in a strategically placed towel. Then she put special eyeshades on his face and put in a pair of earbuds that played relaxing music. In the back of his mind, he smelled smoke and felt a tingling, but he didn’t care.

He was almost asleep when the tech rolled him over to do the other side, and he didn’t even realize that his towel was gone. When it was all over, he sort of felt sunburned all over, but then an attendant came in and massaged some kind of anesthetic ointment all over him. This was a pretty swanky place — he hoped the bill wouldn’t be too steep. Then she switched to a different kind of lotion and rubbed it into his face. Then she handed him a little shopping bag with bottles if the stuff she just put on him, and told him he could get dressed as she left the room.

David realized that he had just been totally naked in a room with a girl massaging him all over and hadn’t felt embarrassed or excited or anything — that music must have put him in some kind of hypnotic state, or maybe it was drugs in his drink or the ointment. He went back to the waiting room and found Claude signing some papers at the desk. The receptionist made a follow-up appointment, and told him he was all set. Claude claimed that he was paying for this to make up for the “pimp suit” incident, and David’s mellow mood let him accept that. It was only after they left the building that David realized how long the procedure had taken; the sun had gone down while he was on the table.

Eventually his mood shifted and David was able to check himself out. His chest was bare, like he wanted, but so were his arms, his legs, his rear end from what he could see in his bathroom mirror, his armpits were clear even though he couldn’t remember changing his pose to allow the laser in there, and all that was left of his pubic hair was a little square patch just above his bald genitals, which did have the silver lining of appearing larger now without all the hair. His neck was smooth, and after a week his face still didn’t need a shave. He felt weird without any hair, and called Claude to complain. “You had them do everywhere, man! I look like a little kid or something. It was just supposed to be a little chest hair, but I let you talk me into letting it snowball into this. When I go back there after it all grows out again, I’m going to be more specific about what they do.”

Claude paused for a moment. Would it be better to tell him or not? After all is said and done, he did still consider himself a friend to David. “It’s not all going to grow out again. They’re not legally allowed to call laser hair removal permanent, but it comes really close. Your follow-up appointment is just to catch a few stragglers. The best it would do if you stopped now is that you might grow back a few mangy-looking patches here and there, but not fully or evenly. I thought you knew.”

“Even the hair on my face isn’t going to grow back? Ever?”

“I’ve never seen you with a beard. Have you ever grown one? I’ve never seen any old pictures of you with one. Sorry, but Evelyn mentioned it as an option when I was making your appointment, and I just thought ‘Hey, why not? No more shaving; no more whisker burn when you kiss your girl; what’s not to love?’ I really thought I was doing you a favor. I’m sorry.” Claude was an excellent liar. He couldn’t tell David his real reasons; not yet. But he really didn’t think David would ever want a beard.

At this point, the only real option David had was to accept it and learn to live with a smother body. He just hoped it didn’t turn Maritza off. He though about calling her, but remembered that she’d said she’d be very busy for a while. He put his mind off it by moving on to the next step in his plan — getting into shape. He saw his doctor to get tested for all the things that could possibly earn him her rejection, and while he was there he asked about what he should do to improve his tone. The doctor recommended that he start with something small — walk a mile a day, switch to a high fiber/low fat diet, and add some kind of vigorous physical activity at least twice a week. With his body type, he’d be better off focusing on losing fat than on trying to add muscle with weight training. He emphasized that David shouldn’t do anything drastic like a crash diet or going overboard on the exercise.

Two months of salads, jogging, and swimming laps in the pool at his complex helped him lose twelve pounds and he was feeling better about himself. He’d mostly gotten used to being hairless, except when he’d get creepy looks from this old neighbor guy he’d sometimes run into at the pool. He’d taken to swimming at night to avoid him. The downside is that he didn’t get enough sun to develop much of a tan, but then she’d never said he was too pale.

***

When Maritza got back in town, David told her he really wasn’t up for meeting more of her friends, so she invited herself over to his place for him to cook dinner for just the two of them. He accepted her offer, and figured it was some kind of bachelor test of hers to see how self-sufficient he was, but he wasn’t worried. He wasn’t one of those single guys who consist mainly on take-out food. He’d lived on his own for quite a while, and most of that was back home in Ohio in a little town without a lot of restaurants. She asked what kind of wine to bring, which was probably also another test, and he said to go with a dry white that wouldn’t be too overpowering, but he wouldn’t tell her specifically what he’d be cooking. He did make sure she didn’t have any food allergies.

She showed up at his townhouse on time. Unlike David, who was in his standard date uniform of an oxford shirt, a pair of khakis and his one good pair of shoes, she was dressed casually, which actually seemed to make it more intimate. She wore a pair of well-faded jeans that, while fitting well to her nicely rounded shape, weren’t so tight they gave that “painted on” look, with a tooled red leather belt with a buckle that resembled an antique cameo brooch. A pair of matching red leather boots with four-inch heels covered her feet. Her top was a deep green silky camisole tank, with thin spaghetti straps and just a hint of lace at the edges, the kind of thing that might have been originally sold as underwear.

Her loosely tousled hair didn’t seem to be held in place by any product, flowing free in waves around her face and down the middle of her back. Her make-up was either subtle or very minimal. It only seemed like she was wearing some dark red lipstick and just a hint of eyeliner. Her jewelry was also subdued — around her neck was a twisted gold chain and she had plain gold circular hoops in her ears. Even though it seemed she was “dressed down,” she was still exquisitely beautiful. Over her right shoulder was the strap of an enormous leather bag that looked to be some kind of military surplus satchel, and in her hand she carried a wine bottle. In her left hand, she carried a bouquet of daisies.

Taking advantage of her full hands, David put his arms around her and gave her a deep, long kiss. Coming up for air, he greeted her. “Hi. I missed you. Let me help you with some of that,” and took the bottle and the flowers. “I’d take your bag, but it looks monstrous! That’s the largest purse I’ve ever seen!”

“It’s not a purse, you big silly! It’s an overnight bag, with some things for me to wear tomorrow. You look good. Have you lost weight?” she teased as she followed him into the house.

“Thanks. I have lost some. But it’s mostly hair. You’re looking fantastic yourself!” He motioned toward the living room. “You can put your bag in there. I’ll take these to the dining room and meet you.”

She disobediently dropped her bag in the foyer and took advantage of his hands being full this time. She threw her arms around him and bent him slightly backward for a toe-curling soul kiss. She broke the kiss but didn’t let go. “I missed you, too. But I hope you were kidding about cutting your hair. I liked it long,” she pouted.

“No, I didn’t cut it; it’s just pulled back so it wouldn’t get in the way while I was cooking,” and he tried to twist his head to show her the five-inch ponytail gathered at the nape of his neck. “The hair I lost was in … other places.”

Her eyes grew wide. “Oh, really? Where? Show me!” She moved her hands to start unbuttoning his shirt, but he managed to wiggle away in the nick of time.

He slipped to the dining area, where he placed the wine bottle on the sideboard, took out a corkscrew and opened it to let it breathe, and then went into the kitchen, where he set the flowers down on the counter, and turned around to see that she’d been following him. “Would you give me a hand? I’ve got a vase for these in the cabinet over the refrigerator, and you could probably reach it easier.”

“Not until you show me where you lost your hairs.” She stood next to him and he felt short. In her heels, she was nearly a half a foot taller than him. Barefoot she was probably about five-foot-ten, which would still be taller than his five-eight, but with her boots on, he was a dwarf. He probably could have reached the top shelf without fetching something to stand on, but he’d be groping around blindly for things she’d be able to find clearly. So he caved to her demand.

He unbuttoned the top three buttons of his shirt. “Well, you suggested I look into waxing my chest, and when I asked our mutual friend Claude for advice he took me to this laser place and told them to do everything. So I’ve got no hair here,” and he tugged down the collar of his undershirt.

She reached out and slipped her hand inside his shirt. “Ooh - that’s much better than before. Very sexy!”

“But I’ve also got none here,” and he rolled up his sleeve and moved her hand to his hairless arm, “and I’ve got none here either,” and he leaned down and pulled up his pant cuff and took her hand down to his smooth calf. And then, standing up, he brought her hand to his cheek. “And they even did it here. No more stubble - ever.”

She was a little surprised, but the idea intrigued her. She brought her other hand up to the other side of his face and kissed him, deeply and thoroughly. “I’m tempted to just skip dinner and go explore you,” she said in a husky whisper as they came up for air, “but something in here smells delicious!” Winking suggestively she added, “Besides you.”

Remembering how this started, David showed her the cabinet, and she pulled down his vase. It was a fluted cut glass vase that wasn’t what she would have expected in a bachelor’s kitchen. When she turned to hand it to him, she saw he was cutting the tips of the stems off the daisies. “Fresh cuts absorb the water better,” he said when she looked at him confusedly. He was glad to have shown that he knows his way around flowers, probably passing another test. “My publisher sent me flowers the first time I made the New York Times Bestseller List. They came in this vase.” It was a little dusty, so he wiped it down with a damp paper towel before filling it with water from the tap and loosely arranging the flowers. He considering giving the vase to Maritza to put on the table, but he wasn’t sure she would place in what he knew was just the right spot for a centerpiece. He brought the flowers into the dining area and set them on the table in the perfect location. “I’ve got to make the gravy, but then it will all be ready. So, if you need to freshen up or anything, there’s a powder room off the hall that you used before, or there’s a full bath upstairs if you need something more.”

She took her bag from the entryway and disappeared up the stairs. David turned his attention toward getting the meal ready to serve. After a few minutes, she came bouncing back down the stairs. The table had been elegantly set with dishes of steamed fresh string beans in a light butter sauce, honey-orange glazed ripple-cut carrot slices, twice-baked mashed potatoes with a scalloped edge that David had piped out with a pastry bag, a basket with steaming rolls, a platter with a stuffed rolled pork roast that he’d cut in even slices, and a boat of gravy that he’d made from the roast drippings. He’d just finished pouring the wine and was lighting candles that were in glass candlesticks that coordinated with the vase, when she entered.

He held her chair for her, and she slid in. “Thank you,” she smiled at him, “Your table looks lovely, but are more people going to be eating with us tonight? There’s so much here!”

“No, it’s just us. I cooked a lot because I use my grandmother’s old recipes and she always made enough for six. I usually just freeze the leftovers separated out into like TV dinners, and also this pork roast makes an incredible sandwich. I suppose I could just do some kitchen math on the recipes so they don’t make so much, but that just wouldn’t feel the same. My cousin Barbara dropped me off her Christmas card list when I didn’t send her Nana’s recipe scrapbook. She thought she was entitled to it since she’s the only granddaughter, but Barbara wasn’t the one who was with her at the end; I was. So I sent her a photocopy, and she considered it an insult. But I don’t mean to bring you down, sorry. Dig in!”

“You didn’t bring me down — I think it’s sweet that you want to honor your grandmother like that. My mother never had the patience to teach me to cook. I can only make three things that she showed me when I was very small, but I don’t make those very well.” She started loading her plate. Since David had seen Maritza devour a healthy amount of Thai noodles on their last date, he wasn’t worried that “normal” food would be a problem for her. She wasn’t one of those models who’d consider a filling meal to be a celery stalk, a lima bean, a liter of water, and a cigarette. He figured she either was blessed with an amazing metabolism, or she managed to work off the calories with an exercise routine far more intense than his.

“Does this mean you’re not making dinner next time?” David gave her a mock look of shocked confusion.

“That’s good. I like how you’re so sure there will be a next time.” She leaned over and gave him a tasty kiss. “But no, I don’t cook. Ever since I left home I haven’t done much in the kitchen. When I first started modeling, the older girl they moved me in with only ate raw fruits and vegetables, so all I got to help with was cutting them up. I was stuck with her for a year, eating her boring food. Every time I got paid, I’d take some of it to a little restaurant and get the largest piece of meat I could afford, or a fish if I was feeling homesick. We didn’t get a lot of meat when I was a little girl. But my mother and my younger sister get meat now. I bought them a bigger house in the city, and put money into a bank account for them. My sister is going to go to school and will learn more than I ever did. Sometimes I think about taking classes in business or something like that, so that I can find a job when I get old and don’t look good anymore.”

“That’s nice of you to take care of your family. I like that. And I can’t imagine you ever not looking good.” Inside David was already imagining starting a family of his own with her, even though he knew it was way too early in their relationship for that. She gave him a look that felt as though she could tell what he was thinking. He had to change the subject quickly. “This is an excellent wine. You have great taste!”

“Thank you, but I didn’t pick it out myself. I just told the man in the wine store what I was looking for, and he found a bottle. This meat is very good! Claude told me you were a good cook, but I thought he was kidding me, so I decided to see for myself and make you serve me tonight. Now that was an excellent decision I made!” She stuffed a heaping spoonful of potatoes in her mouth and smiled at him.

“I’ve had Claude over for dinner many times. He loves my chicken and dumplings!”

“What is that? It sounds like it might be a cute nickname for your…things?” She wiggled a finger at his lap. “I must admit I’d like a taste of them myself. Although I didn’t realize you two were a couple; I thought you were just friends, but I was getting a feeling that you might be a little bi-curious, as they say, which isn’t a problem for me; I’ve played around on the other side myself. But I’m not sure it’s a good move, dating the boyfriend of a guy who’s sometimes my boss. Maybe I should go.” She started to get up from her chair.

David was crushed. “No, wait! It’s not like that. I’m not gay or anything like that. He is a friend and that’s all. Chicken and dumplings is a dish; it’s like a stew. Please don’t go.” He was on the verge of tears. The stress of trying to put together a perfect date had put him emotionally on edge.

Maritza could no longer contain her giggles, and exploded. “I’m sorry, Baby. I was just teasing you.” She went around behind his chair and held him. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m here. I’m not going. I know you’re not a gay.” She turned his face toward hers and kissed him deeply, adding “And I will show you how I know after dinner,” while she moved a hand to his leg and gave it a squeeze. “Do you forgive me?”

He wanted to tell her that it was very mean to tease him like that. He wanted to tell her that she might as well leave, because he wasn’t going to be in any mood for romance tonight. But from where her hand was he knew she could tell that at least a part of him wanted her to stay. And he knew that he was seriously falling for her, so he couldn’t let her go. “Yes, I forgive you. I should have realized you were kidding. I think I was just still a little nervous about making everything perfect for you, and I panicked.”

She kissed him again and returned to her seat. “Good. You did make a very lovely table, and a delicious meal! Some day you will make an excellent wife for a very lucky guy!” She smirked to make sure he knew she was kidding this time.

Inside, David was having a bit of a panic attack. He’d thought he was doing so well on all her little tests of how domestic he was, but the realization that he didn’t do any of it in a manner that was at all manly hit him like a truck. He couldn’t crumble again. He had to do something to shoot her opinion of him back to seeing him as a strong male, a worthy mate.

Little did he know she actually thought him worthy because he wasn’t strong and masculine, and that intrigued her. She was tired of macho guys. She smiled and enjoyed her meal, sensing that something was bothering David, but assuming it was mostly nerves. It was really cute to see him so fragile just from wanting to please her — it made her feel powerful.

When they’d finished the meal, David told her he could put on some coffee to go with the fresh strawberry shortcake he had all waiting to be assembled from homemade shortbread cookies, sliced strawberries that had been marinating in sweet liqueur syrup, and chilled heavy cream ready for whipping. Maritza thought for a moment then declined, “It sounds delicious, but your food was so good I ate so much I don’t have any room left. I have a better dessert for you. Give me ten minutes, then come upstairs.” She put her arms around him and kissed him, teasing his tongue before letting him go. She turned back on her way out to see him still standing there dumbfounded. He was fun to play with!

David used his ten minutes to put away the leftovers and pack the dishwasher. Remembering what she’d said about his hair, he went into the powder room and took the elastic off his ponytail and shook his head vigorously, using both of his hands to fluff out his hair. He repeated the mantra “I will not mess this up” in the mirror three times, then cautiously went up to his bedroom. Or at least, what had been his bedroom until very recently. He wasn’t exactly sure what was in that bag of hers, but she’d managed to transform his room in the brief time he’d left her alone. Four large scented candles were filling the room with a musky perfume. She’d remade his bed with deep red silk sheets, in the middle of which she struck an enticing pose. She’d changed into a tight black lace nightgown that left little to the imagination but framed it all perfectly. She slid out of bed when she saw him, and walked over slowly like a stalking panther sizing up her prey.

“Don’t you move. I want to undress you slowly.” She unbuttoned his shirt, and when she saw his new smooth chest she ran her hands all over it. “Ooh! You weren’t kidding when you said you had hair removed! This is so much sexier!” She kissed him all over, spending a considerable amount of time suckling at his nipples. “And your little titties are more fun without all that hair in the way. There’s not even any hair here,” she exclaimed as she tickled his bare armpits. He giggled and twitched and tried to twist out of the way. “I’ve got to see more!” She pushed him back so that he was seated on the bed, and pulled off his shoes and socks. “Your little toes look cute now without fur on them — but you really could use a pedicure. Have you ever had one?”

“Claude took me to a place once for a manicure, but it didn’t do anything for me.”

“Maybe I’ll do your toes for you one of these days. Are your feet ticklish, too?” She quickly found out they were, and David had to struggle to avoid reflexively kicking her in the head. She thought about sucking his toes, but saved that urge for later when she noticed how sweaty his socks were. She grabbed him by the belt and pulled him to his feet again. She gave him an impish wink and crouched in front of him to unbuckle his belt. Very slowly, she then unzipped and unbuttoned his fly, letting the anticipation drive him wild. She lowered his slacks to the floor and noticed the obvious tent in his boxers. Running her hands along his hairless legs, she helped him step out of his khakis.

“I can’t believe you went this far. I thought you were too straight for that kind of thing, but to me it is very sexy so I’m glad you did it.” She threw her arms around him and pressed her lips to his for a long, wet kiss. Her hands slid down his back and sneaked under his waistband to squeeze his baby-smooth cheeks. She let out an involuntary moan, “Oooh! Very sexy.” Pulling her hands out, she took a step back and pulled the waistband of his boxers around his erection and down to the floor. Her eyes widened at the sight of his further hairlessness and pushed him down onto the bed, leaning down to get a better look. “Ay, Dios mio!”

She had trouble deciding which part of her to touch him with. She ran her finger down his luscious smoothness, but that wasn’t enough. She kissed all around his shaft, slipping a little tongue into it here and there. Going lower, she took his smooth sac completely into her mouth and ran her tongue all over it. His “chicken and biscuits” were indeed as delicious as promised. She brought the head of his penis into her mouth and started seriously sucking on him. There was no foreskin in the way — was Fine a Jewish name?

As she bobbed her head up and down on him, she like that he was resisting the urge to thrust his hips and fuck her face. She hated when guys did that. It’s much easier to keep from gagging when you have control over how far into your mouth his thing is going. She felt a tap on her shoulder, and looked up to see that David’s face was completely clenched. He was even being enough of a gentleman to give her a chance to get out of the way.

But she stayed in place and gave him a slight nod, and then gently stroked his balls to let them know it was okay. He let go and she sucked down every drop of his thick, warm juices. When he finished spurting and softened, she licked him clean and then climbed up to lie next to him on the bed. Then a realization hit her. “I forgot to check. Did you get tested for everything?”

He turned toward her and gave her a kiss, something else most guys don’t like to do after getting oral. “I’m completely clean. I can show you the doctor’s report if you need it.” For an answer, she climbed on top of him and suckled at his nipples. She was really enjoying his all-over smoothness.

David wasn’t quite ready for more, so he gently rolled her over onto her back, and began kissing his way down her own intriguing smoothness. When he got his face down between her thighs, she really appreciated the lack of sandpaper on his cheeks. She appreciated even more the way his tongue was working her button with the uneven rhythm of a gentle summer rain. She squirmed in pleasure, and felt his hands sliding her nightgown further up her body. When it had cleared her breasts, he began to tease her left nipple with her right hand, while his left went down to assist his tongue. Two, no three fingers were lightly stroking her from the inside. She rode the wave of ecstasy to its summit and let out an involuntary moan, but he gave her barely enough time to catch her breath before the next wave was on its way.

At her second peak, she made him stop by pulling his head up for another kiss. She reveled in the taste of her own musk as her tongue playfully danced with his. Both of his hands had found nipples, and she guided them into pulling her nightgown off completely. She was more than ready for him, and a probing hand revealed that he was just as ready. She took him in hand and pulled him into her eager lips.

David tried a few slow gentle thrusts, but she responded more eagerly, pushing her hips up toward him with a passion and hunger that betrayed her need. He could tell by the look on her face that something wasn’t quite working for her. He remembered that the last time they were together it seemed to go much better when she was the one in control, so he stop thrusting and held her close, then rolled them both over so that he was on the bottom instead. Since he hadn’t fallen out, they started up again.

With the change in the angle, he was now hitting her in the right spots, and her frustrated expression soon changed to one of pleasure. They moved as one to a mutual climax and collapsed upon each other. It felt so right to cuddle with her that he didn’t even mind sleeping in the wet spot. He only hoped it felt as rewarding for her as it did for him.