The wonders of a wild widowhood (F/F)

[Janbound]

OK. Very different from my previous stories. This is a long introduction and only hints at tie ups. I have a part two in production but I need to set the scene, I just got carried away. Much more emotional than previous tales. There will be a part two and women will get tied up. Also a really naff title if anyone can help me with that.

At 54 Jan suddenly found herself widowed. The shock was sudden and severe. She was helped by friends and family but everything was a buzz to her. At the funeral many people offered their commiserations but one special friend, Fiona was different. Her oldest friend, met at 13 and herself divorced five years previously, Fiona said “If you need anything, anything at all just call me.”

After the funeral was over, Jan lay in bed sobbing into her pillow when her phone rang, she could hardly bare to answer it but was so glad she did. It was Fiona. “Hi babe. You looked so terrible at the funeral. Seriously are you ok?”

Jan’s voice was barely a whisper when she replied, “No, I’m not. Everything feels so overwhelming right now. The house is too quiet without him. I can’t even begin to deal with all this...stuff.”

“Right. Pack a bag. Cime on over tomorrow. You’re staying with me for the next two weeks. No questions.”

Fiona’s voice was firm but gentle, cutting through Jan’s fog of despair. Jan hesitated, unsure if she was ready to leave the comfort of her familiar surroundings, but the emptiness of her house was suffocating her. She took a deep breath and whispered a shaky agreement.

SUMMARY^1: Jan, recently widowed, is struggling with overwhelming grief and the silence of her home. Her long-time friend Fiona, who is divorced, notices Jan's distress at the funeral and insists she comes to stay with her for two weeks, providing a firm yet comforting voice amidst Jan's despair.

The next day at about 2pm Jan’s Silver Audi pulled up on the gravel drive of the suburban house. Jan switched off the engine, took a deep breath and stepped out, her heels digging into the gravel as she wobbled up the path. One thing Jan had done to keep herself focused since John’s sudden death was to make sure she always looked good, she was not going to hobble round the house in her knickers and eat ice cream in front of daytime TV. She was wearing a crimson, silky blouse, black scarf at the neck, navy knee length skirt, sheer black tights and shiny red heels. The door was opened by Fiona more modestly dressed: a sleeveless dark blue knee length dress with red and yellow flower pattern her red hair tied back in a plat and bare feet.

They hugged in the doorstep and Jan immediately burst into tears.

Fiona, unfazed, wrapped her arms around Jan tightly and guided her inside. The warmth of the house was a stark contrast to the coldness Jan had been feeling. The living room was a cozy blend of modern and vintage, with a large bay window that let in the afternoon sun, casting a soft glow on the plush couches and antique coffee table. The scent of freshly baked cookies wafted through the air, a comforting aroma that Jan hadn’t noticed in a long time.

Fiona led Jan to the couch and handed her a tissue. "Here, let it all out," she said, her voice filled with understanding. Jan took the tissue and wiped her eyes, trying to compose herself. "Thank you for this," she managed to say between sobs.

Fiona removed Jan’s heels, carried them to her kitchen, returning seconds later with two very large glasses of chilled white wine.

“You know Jan, it’s ok to let go, to fall apart sometimes. You’ve been so strong for everyone else. Now let’s you be strong for yourself.” She handed Jan a glass and took a seat beside her, placing a comforting hand on her knee and placing her own feet on the coffee table.

Jan took a sip of the wine, feeling the cool liquid trickle down her throat. It helped to ease the tightness in her chest. She looked into Fiona’s eyes, which were filled with a mix of sadness and determination. “You’re right, I need this. I just don’t know where to start.”

Fiona nodded and took a deep breath. “We’ll take it one day at a time. For now, let’s just relax, talk, and maybe eat some of those cookies I made. They’re still warm from the oven. I know they won’t fix everything, but it’s a small comfort.”

Jan managed a weak smile and took another sip of her wine. The alcohol was starting to take the edge off her grief, allowing her to breathe a little easier. They sat in companionable silence for a few moments, sipping their wine and listening to the tick of the grandfather clock in the hallway. It was a sound that Jan hadn’t noticed in her own home, but here it was comforting, a reminder that time was still moving forward, even if she felt stuck in place.

“You know.” Said Fiona “I have to admire how good you look. But how terrible too.”

Jan raised an eyebrow, not quite understanding what Fiona meant.

“Your face is drained, colour gone, just the red marks round your eyes from the tears. But you dress impeccably, like you’re going for a job interview. Look at me. Frumpy saggy dress , no make up and bare feet.”

Jan took in Fiona’s words and felt a small pang of guilt. “I just don’t know what else to do. It’s all I know how to do, to keep it together on the outside while everything’s falling apart inside.”

Fiona’s grip on her knee tightened. “You don’t have to keep it all together here, Jan. You can let go. You can be you, without the armor. You’re not alone anymore.”

With that, Fiona slipped off the couch and padded barefoot into the kitchen. Jan heard the clink of a wine bottle and the rustling of Tupperware. A moment later, Fiona returned with the rest of the bottle and a plate of what looked like heaven. Double chocolate cookies with popcorn sprinkled on top, each one a perfect golden brown.

"These are amazing," Jan said, her eyes lighting up as she took a cookie. She took a bite and felt the sweetness hit her taste buds, the popcorn adding a surprisingly delightful crunch. The warmth spread through her, not just from the wine but from the simple joy of good food shared with a friend.

Fiona smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "Thanks, I had to try something new. You know, keep myself busy."

They sat for hours, talking about their past, their present, and their hopes for the future. Jan found herself laughing for the first time in what felt like an eternity. It was a bittersweet sound, one that filled the room with a lightness that hadn't been there since John's passing. They talked about their teenage years, the countless sleepovers, the shared secrets, and the dreams they had for their lives. As the wine bottle grew emptier, Jan felt the weight of her sorrow ease a little.

Fiona listened intently, her eyes never leaving Jan's. She knew her friend needed this release, this time to just be. When Jan's storytelling grew quiet, Fiona stood up with purpose. "I'm going to grab another bottle," she announced, heading towards the kitchen. The sound of her bare feet on the wooden floor was rhythmic, a comforting beat in the background.

Moments later, Fiona reappeared with a second bottle of chilled white wine. She popped the cork with a muted sound, and Jan felt a smile tug at the corners of her mouth. The scent of rosemary and garlic filled the room, making her stomach rumble. Fiona noticed and grinned. "I hope you're hungry," she said, holding up the bottle in a silent toast. "I made a roast chicken. It's been in the oven for hours, just waiting for us to devour it."

The aroma was heavenly, a blend of rosemary and thyme that brought Jan back to Sunday dinners with John. Her eyes filled with tears again, but she blinked them away. "It smells amazing," she managed to say.

Fiona nodded, her smile a little sadder now. "I know you guys had a lot of good times together. I want to help you keep those memories close while you start making new ones."

They moved to the dinner table, where Fiona had set out plates, silverware, and a steaming dish of roast chicken. The smell was tantalizing, and Jan felt a pang of hunger she hadn't noticed before. Fiona served them both generous portions, the juices from the chicken pooling on their plates. They ate in a companionable silence, the clinking of silverware the only sound in the room.

As they finished their meal, Jan took a deep breath. "Thank you, Fi. This...this is exactly what I needed."

“You need this too.” Said Fiona as she cleared the plates, topped up their glasses again and produced a bowl of chocolate profiteroles , chocolate ice cream and chocolate sauce.

Jan watched as Fiona arranged the desserts in front of them. “I’m not sure I can eat all that!” she protested.

Fiona just winked. “You’ll manage. Besides, it’s the best therapy I know. Chocolate and friendship. Can’t go wrong with that combination.” Her bare feet brushed agains Jan’s nylon covered feet under the table as she said this.

Jan took a profiterol and bit into the soft, sweet pastry. The cold ice cream melted on her tongue, mixing with the rich chocolate sauce. It was heavenly, and for a brief moment, she forgot her troubles. They continued to eat, the silence between them no longer awkward but filled with a sense of shared understanding. As they enjoyed their dessert, Jan felt something she hadn’t felt in a long time: a spark of life returning to her veins.

The evening stretched on, and the conversation grew more serious. They staggered back to the lounge where Fiona produced a box of Belgian chocolates and a third bottle of wine.. Jan spoke of her fears about the future, the decisions she would have to make, and the loneliness that seemed to engulf her every night. Fiona listened, nodding and offering words of encouragement when she could. She talked about her own experience with divorce and the challenges she had faced, giving Jan a glimpse of hope that she too could navigate the stormy waters of loss and come out the other side.

By 9pm the wine was all gone and Jan said time for bed. Fiona showed Jan to the guest room, which was decorated in calming shades of blue and white. The bed was made with fresh linens, and a vase of roses sat on the nightstand, filling the room with a delicate fragrance. Jan felt a lump form in her throat at the sight of it.

Suddenly they realised Jan’s bags were still in her car. The evening ended in much hilarity and shrieks as two drunken middle aged women staggered with Jan’s Farr too heavy bags up to the house, the sharp gravel spiking into their shoeless feet.

The following morning Jan awoke with a mild hangover but to the smell of freshly brewed coffee, a plate of maple syrup covered waffles and the sight of Fiona sat in her bed. Fiona's red hair was all over the place much like Jan’s blonde hair. She wore a shimmering green nightie which came to her mid thighs, much like Jan’s black nightie but with more Lacey bits.

Feeling a little more alive than she had in weeks. The room was bathed in soft early morning light. She hugged Fiona then swung her legs out of bed and walked over to the window, peeking out at the dew-covered garden. It was a beautiful day, one that seemed to be saying that life goes on, even when it feels like it should have stopped.

“You know what, Fi?” Jan said, turning to face her friend with a half-smile. “I think I need a duvet day. Just to rest, to think, to... I don’t know, just be.”

“Well do it girl. Just don’t get dressed. When you feel like it bring your duvet to the lounge. We’ll have ice cream for lunch, pizza for tea and binge watch weepy films all day.”

And with that Fiona was off, leaving Jan feeling both slightly embarrassed and incredibly relieved. She wrapped the duvet around her and shuffled out of the room, feeling the coolness of the wooden floorboards beneath her bare feet.

The living room was already set up for their day of solace. The curtains were drawn, the couch looked like it had been fluffed just for the occasion, and the TV was playing a low hum of a romantic drama. Fiona had even placed a tray of tissues a bowl of crisps and a jug of water within arm’s reach. Jan couldn’t help but chuckle at her friend’s thoughtfulness. She spread her duvet out on the couch and sank into the plush cushions, the warmth enveloping her like a much-needed hug.

After about twenty minutes she was joined by Fiona dragging her duvet, still in her nightie. They snuggled up on the sofa together under the soft, warm covers, hugging each other their legs entwined.

They started with a classic tearjerker, the kind of film that made you feel all the feels but somehow also left you feeling a little bit better about your own life. Jan sniffled into her tissue as the protagonist lost her love, feeling Fiona’s hand squeeze hers in silent support. They didn’t talk much, just the occasional sniffle or a shared glance that said, “Yes, we’re okay.”

As the day rolled on, they watched movie after movie, each one a little less sad than the last. The sun had reached its peak and started to dip, casting a warm, orange glow through the living room. Jan’s eyes grew heavier, and she found herself dozing off during a particularly long dramatic pause.

Fiona, noticing her friend’s fatigue, gently shook Jan’s shoulder. “Hey, wake up, sleepyhead. It’s time for some real comfort food.” She winked and disappeared into the kitchen. Jan could hear the clanging of pans and the rustling of ingredients. The aroma of tomato sauce and baking dough soon filled the house, making Jan’s stomach growl.

When Fiona returned, she was holding a steaming pizza pie, topped with an assortment of colorful veggies and cheese that looked like a miniature rainbow. She had set up a small round table in front of the couch, complete with plates, napkins, and another bottle of wine. Jan’s eyes widened at the sight, and she couldn’t help but smile.

“And this will liven your spit girl.” She said as she scrolled through YouTube videos.

“What are you looking for?” Jan mumbled, half asleep.

Fiona found a video of Ritchie Blackmore’s Rainbow.. as the music picked up and the wine flowed Fiona dragged Jan up to dance. Two fifty something women, drunk and in just their nighties jumped and bopped around like teenagers from the 1980s.

They stumbled, they laughed, they sang, they danced like nobody was watching. And for Jan it was as if the fog was lifting a little. She had forgotten how much fun it was to be silly, to let go of the seriousness of the world and just live in the moment.

They cried for “Since You’ve Been Gone.” Laughed at “All night Long”. When the line “you’re so young but you’re over age.” Was greeted by “and twice more!” And finally , raising the roof to “Long Live Rock and Roll.” They landed in a twisted heap on the floor. Fiona kneeling on top of Jan kissed the Lips.

Jan pushed her off giggling. “What are you doing!”

Fiona, slightly out of breath, said “Oh come on, we’re not dead yet, let’s live a bit!”

Jan couldn’t argue with that. She felt the warmth of Fiona’s body, the laughter lines around her eyes and the smell of her favorite perfume. It was a comforting moment of normalcy in a world that had gone topsy-turvy. They lay there for a moment, catching their breath, before Jan pushed herself up and grabbed a slice of pizza. They ate their dinner on the floor, the crumbs falling onto their duvets, and talked about the good old days when music was music, and men had long hair and tight trousers.

Fiona poured more wine and began to stroke Jan’s leg.

“What are you doing?” Jan giggled, feeling a bit tipsy.

Fiona’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “Oh, just making sure you’re okay. You know, stress relief and all that.” She began to massage Jan’s foot.

Jan’s giggles subsided as she felt the tension in her muscles begin to melt away. It had been so long since someone had touched her with such tenderness, and it was surprisingly comforting. She leaned back into the cushions, her eyes closing in contentment.

Without thinking, Jan reached out and found Fiona’s foot, which was sticking out from under her own duvet. She began to rub it, her thumb pressing into the arch with gentle but firm strokes. Fiona’s eyes widened in surprise, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she took another sip of her wine and sighed, her eyes fluttering closed.

The air in the room grew thick with a new kind of tension, one that Jan hadn’t anticipated. She felt a warmth spreading through her body, not just from the wine, but from the connection that seemed to be growing between them. They had always been close, but this was something different, something intimate.

“You need to get these nails sorted” said Jan.

Fiona opened one eye and peered down at her foot. “You’re not wrong there.”

“Pamper day tomorrow?”

Fiona’s question was met with a nod from Jan. It had been so long since Jan had allowed herself to be pampered, to indulge in the simple pleasure of self-care. The thought of it brought a smile to her face, a small one, but a smile nonetheless.

They continued to rub each other’s feet, the rhythmic motion soothing both their bodies and their spirits. The silence between them grew comfortable, a stark contrast to the chaos of Jan’s recent past. Fiona’s touch was gentle yet firm, each stroke a silent promise that she was there for Jan, no matter what.

As they sipped their wine, the conversation flowed naturally, touching on memories of their youth and the shared experiences that had brought them to this moment. They talked about their first kisses, the heartaches, and the joy of finding themselves as adults. Jan found herself opening up in ways she hadn’t in years, sharing her deepest fears and insecurities with Fiona, who listened without judgment.

Fiona tottered off to the kitchen to bring yet another bottle of wine. The alcohol had made Jan’s cheeks flushed, and she recalled the warmth of Fiona’s hand on her foot, the gentle pressure of her thumb working out the knots. It was a strange sensation, one that she hadn’t felt in so long. She found herself staring at the floral pattern on the couch, the petals seeming to dance in the flickering light of the candles they had lit earlier.

When Fiona returned, Jan took the bottle from her and filled their glasses. The wine was a deep red, like the color of love and passion, and she wondered if Fiona had chosen it for that reason. They clinked their glasses together and took a sip, the liquid warmth spreading through Jan’s body. She felt the beginnings of a buzz, but it was a comforting one, a gentle hum that seemed to match the rhythm of their shared breathing.

They switched on another chick flick, the kind that made you believe in love again, but Jan’s eyelids grew heavy. She hadn’t slept well in weeks, and the wine was making her feel drowsy. She leaned into Fiona, her head resting on her friend’s shoulder. Fiona didn’t move, just wrapped an arm around her, holding her close.

The movie played on, the sound of laughter and romance filling the room. Jan’s mind drifted, the images on the screen blurring into a kaleidoscope of color and sound. She felt Fiona’s breath against her hair, the steady beat of her heart beneath Jan’s cheek. It was a comforting sensation, one that made Jan feel safe and protected.

“I need to go to bed.” Jan murmured.

“But the film hasn’t finished.”

“I know, but I’m exhausted. And tomorrow’s a new day. We can finish it in the morning.” Jan replied, her voice thick with sleep.

“Bring your duvet to my room. I have a surprise for you.”

Fiona’s voice was a whisper in Jan’s ear as they stumbled upstairs, their duvets trailing behind them like capes. Jan’s curiosity piqued, she allowed herself to be led, her eyes half-closed with fatigue. When they reached the main bedroom, Fiona gently pushed Jan onto the bed and reached for a remote control. The large mirror opposite Fiona’s bed began to flip over revealing a 40” TV screen and downstair’s film continued to play. “Surprise!”

Fiona then disappeared into the en-suite bathroom. Jan could hear the sound of running water and the clinking of bottles before her friend returned and crawled under the covers with her. After a few minutes the pressure on Jan’s bladder was significant and she swung her legs out of bed towards the en-suite.

As she sat on the toilet she giggled slightly to herself as she saw on the shelf, along with the various shampoos, body lotions etc a couple of vibrators. Clearly she had Fiona’s confidence and was in a very private place. The she had the real surprise. She had to look twice to spot it. On one of the taps something glittered. Silvery. She looked again. It was. It was a pair of shiny, stainless steel handcuffs.