ford fairlaneIt was the middle of winter in Columbus Ohio and snow had been falling for several hours, a big Midwest snow. Jack had called me the night before and asked if I could take him to the airport and I’d said sure, so I walked through the snow that morning from my apartment to his to get there in time to leave early enough for him to make his flight. I’d factored in a slow drive due to the weather.

When I got to his house, Annabelle was there. She was in the kitchen making tuna fish. Jack was still in his underwear. He was sitting at the kitchen table drinking coffee. Annabelle was wearing one of Jack’s shirts and nothing else that I could see. The shirt was only buttoned at one button and her breasts were pretty much hanging out there. They were cute, perky little things with dark areolas. When she bent down to give the tuna water to the cats, her whole bum showed. At nineteen and single I surely didn’t mind looking. Annabelle was nineteen too and she had a tight, firm butt that she didn’t object to showing.

She asked me if I liked what I was seeing and I said I didn’t mind, that I wouldn’t mind feeling it either. She stepped close to me and put one of my hands inside the shirt. I reached down with my other hand and she let me cop a quick feel before taking my hand away. But I could see I’d made her blush.

“You know I’m sitting right here,” Jack said.
“Well if you want to make your flight, you’d better get dressed and we’d better get going,” I said.

He got up and said he’d only be a few minutes.

In his absence, Annabelle sashayed into my arms and kissed me. We weren’t boyfriend/girlfriend and didn’t know each other all that well. In those days that didn’t matter too much. Girls were asserting their sexual freedom; pop a pill, smoke a doobie and camp in for the duration of the storm.

I asked Annabelle if I was supposed to think she was Jack’s girlfriend. She laughed so hard she had to cross her legs not to pee right there and ran to the green bathroom. I followed and watched her sit down on the toilet. “He’s a gay blade,” she said. We both heard the tinkle. “I can’t believe you didn’t know.”

Green Bathroom Jack from Miami insisted upon driving. He’d never driven in the snow and wasn’t hearing my suggestion that I handle it since I was from New York. The three of us sat in the front of Jack’s pink Ford Fairlane sedan, one of those big boats of the time. Annabelle was feeling me up on the sly and Jack was saying that he was seeing it and I kept telling him to watch the road and slow down. The radio was blasting, Doors and Led Zepplin and Crosby Stills and Nash and Neil Young and we were having a swell time until we came to the highway exit, a long uphill  backwards C exit at the top of which sat a car stuck in the snow. I told Jack at the bottom of exit to start braking, but he ignored me. All the way up the hilly exit I kept telling him to brake, and mid way I told Annabelle to brace herself and relax because we were going to hit that stuck car. When Jack finally braked, we skidded. Jack hadn’t counted on that.

We hit it right in the back, pretty square from what I could see, but as luck would have it, the impact set that car free from being stuck and didn’t even put a dent in it. The guy in the car was happy to be on his way and not angry since his car was unhurt. Jack’s Fairlane was mostly unscathed and he made his flight too. Annabelle and I went back to Jack’s house and smoked his weed. We popped some reds, drank some wine and enjoyed the snow.

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Coming soon,  my new novel, I See My Light.

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