Murph let himself in since the door was open. He shook the snow from his hat and brushed it off his coat, a WWII army coat with the Big Red One insignia on each sleeve. Annabelle had the heat blasting and despite the cold Columbus winter, generally a barren, desolate time with brisk winds and near-zero temperatures, her apartment was like the tropics.
Murph never knew which Annabelle he would find. One time she’d be a hippy chick dressed in a flannel shirt, baggy jeans and engineer boots. Another time she’d be a babe in heels and stockings and a body-snuggling dress leaving nothing to the imagination. Today he found her in the kitchen wearing only an apron and high heels. She was bending over at the opened oven and since the stereo was blasting out Led Zeppelin, she apparently hadn’t heard him. He stood enjoying the view, watching her doing what she was doing totally uninhibited by thinking she was alone. He admired her shapely legs and perfect butt. Annabelle was skinny and shapely, model quality.
“Mmm,” Murph finally said.
Annabelle stood up and turned, closing the oven door in the process.
“Pervert,” she said. “How long have you been there?”
“Enough to see your all.”
“Like the view?”
“You better say that,” she said. “I’m baking brownies with hash. What’d you bring?”
“Red wine, Quaaludes and pot.”
“Staying the night?”
“You crazy? You’ll need a tow truck to get me out of here.”
“Good,” Annabelle said.
They remained in the kitchen while the brownies finished. Murph rolled a joint from his bag of weed and they smoked it all the way down to a tiny roach. Then he opened the first of three bottles of wine he’d brought and poured full glasses for them both. Before they sipped the wine, Murph took two pills from his pocket. He handed Annabelle one and together they swallowed the pills with a big sip of wine.
“Goddamn I feel good,” Murph said.
“I am so messed up,” Annabelle said. She stepped over to Murph and kissed him. “The brownies are ready,” she said. That was her way of telling Murph to watch, which he did. Again she bent over by the oven. This time she made sure he could see her all and she wiggled for him, but just slightly.
In the living room they sat on the couch. Annabelle put on some Stones, they both took off their shoes and put up their feet up on the coffee table. Murph’s feet were still covered by the thermal socks he’d worn inside his boots. Annabelle’s were bare. She asked Murph if he liked her red toes and she wiggled them for him. She giggled then put one foot on Murph’s privates. She tucked the apron in her lap almost modestly and closed her eyes. Murph closed his too and they sat listening to the music. When Annabelle’ s nipples stiffened and she got goose bumps because she was chilly, she got up and fetched Murph’s coat. Sitting up against Murph, she wrapped her whole self into that coat and invited Murph’s hand in with her.