remainder of the ride to her house in Long Beach, he was treated to forty-five minutes of alternate versions of famous Beatle songs. Like most collectors, she preferred the bootleg versions to the originals.
Three hours later, after they had deposited his things and the twins at her house, they were sitting in a quiet restaurant.
“ How long have you been a vegetarian?” he asked her after the waiter had taken their order.
“ I didn’t say I was.”
“ You ordered the stir fry. I seem to remember you as a hamburger with lots of onions kind of person.”
“ When you get older you begin to confront your own mortality. If giving up meat can give me a few more healthy years, plus help me keep the pounds off, well, it’s a small sacrifice.”
He took in her figure. “You’ve lost quite a bit, haven’t you?”
“ Fifteen pounds.”
“ You look great and may I say you’ve lost it in all the right places,” he said.
“ Why, Rick, I believe you’re flattering me.”
“ I guess I am.”
“ They say that flattery will get you anywhere.”
“ Will it?”
“ Not with the twins at home.”
“ Yeah, the twins,” he said and they both laughed.
For the next three hours they talked about everything from rock and roll to the state of the economy, staying well away from any more talk of a sexual or flirtatious nature, but as they were leaving the restaurant, he wrapped his arm around her waist and she answered back by wrapping her arm around his.
They made small talk on the short ride back to her place, each noticing a new kind of tension building a gap between them, and each wondering if it could ever be closed. Their years of friendship-instead of making their new-found awareness of each other’s sexual identity an easy, natural thing-made them kind of awkward with each other.
Rick pulled her into his arms as they were mounting the porch steps, his lips on hers before she had time to react. She responded by opening her mouth and receiving his tongue. The kiss was passionate and long.
“ Whoa,” she said, stepping back, “I need air.”
“ I don’t know what came over me,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
“ Don’t be, I’m not complaining. I’m just trying to get used to the idea.”
“ Well, what do you think?”
“ I think I like it, but I need a little time.”
“ I understand.” He also needed time and was thankful for her level head. “The girls left the lights off,” he said.
“ I think they wanted us to have a little time alone in the dark.”
“ Really?”
“ Yeah and seeing that they’re out, I think we should take advantage of it.” She wrapped her arms around him, pulled him to her. This time she initiated the kiss.
When they broke away after the long kiss he said, “I think it’s time to go in, the girls are probably waiting up.”
“ Sitting on the other side of the door laughing, if I know them,” she said.
She turned, inserted her key and opened the door.
The living room was lit by a soft bulb, casting soft shadows from an amber shaded Tiffany lamp.
“ I read by that lamp, those imps changed the bulb.”
“ There’s a note.” Rick laughed, pointing to a sheet of lined paper taped to the glass lamp shade. He crossed the room and removed the message. “Listen to this,” he chuckled. “Mom, we’re spending the night at Donna’s. You guys have fun.”
“ Those brats.” She tried to hide her laughter.
“ What do we do now?” he asked.
“ How about we go out to the kitchen and have a drink, like two friends?”
“ Okay.” He followed her through the swinging door into the kitchen.
“ What’ll it be?” she asked, “more cabernet or Bailey’s and coffee?”
“ Bailey’s and coffee.”
“ It’ll have to be instant.”
“ That’s fine.”
She filled two cups with water and added a teaspoon of instant coffee to each and stirred. Then she put both cups in the microwave and set the timer for two minutes.
“ I’ll be right back,” she said. “I’m going to let my hair down.”
Rick watched as she left the room. He tried to imagine what she would be wearing when she returned. Would it be a sexy negligee or a simple tee shirt with nothing on underneath. His anticipation was high, but was soon dashed when she returned, wearing the same clothes she’d had on when she’d left. She had, however, let her hair down.
She took the coffee out of the microwave and added a generous portion of Bailey’s Irish Cream, then handed a cup over to Rick.
“ Have a seat,” he said.
She drew a chair out from the table and sat down across from him.
“ I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately,” she said.
“ And I you.” He sipped the hot liquid.
“ You wanna smoke a joint?” she asked.
“ I didn’t know you still did that.”
“ I don’t, not in over fifteen years.”
“ Then why the question?”
“ One of the girls left it on their dresser. I confiscated it.”
“ What did you say to them?”
“ Nothing, I don’t think they’re smoking, I think they were just curious. Besides, even if they do smoke a little grass occasionally, I did when I was their age. It won’t kill them.”
“ They didn’t say anything about it being gone?”
“ No, they know I found it and I know they know.” She smiled and pulled the rolled marijuana cigarette out of her blouse pocket.
“ So you didn’t just let your hair down?” Surprisingly Rick found himself eager.
He watched in anticipation as she struck a match, then lit and inhaled the sweet tasting smoke. Holding her breath, she handed the joint across the table to him. He took a long drag and passed it back. After three hits he was as stoned as he’d ever been.
“ This stuff is a lot stronger than what we used to get,” he said.
“ Yeah.” She got up from the table. “I’ve been thinking about this for a long time.” She pulled her blouse over her head. She wasn’t wearing a bra. “Let’s go to the bedroom.” She held out her hand.
He followed her up the stairs and into her bedroom. He watched as she crossed over to the nightstand. She picked up a Zippo, lit it. The lighter fluid smell wafted over and zapped him, reminding him of the time when he used to smoke and of how intense your senses are when you’re stoned.
She bent to light a candle and the combined effect of the lighter’s and candle’s light, both flickering, turned her breasts into twin nippled, bewitching yellow moons, casting a spell that shot straight through to his loins. Still leaning forward with her breasts dangling, she lit an incense stick and then she straightened, clicking the Zippo shut.
The pungent smell of the incense overpowered the sharp smell of lighter fluid and reminded him of his hippie days in the ’60s. Civil rights workers marched and fought in the South. John, Bobby and Martin were shot. The North Vietnamese were fighting America to a standstill. He grew his hair long, smoked dope and demonstrated in front of draft boards. Then his older brother was killed in Vietnam and he joined the Army and it all changed.
“ Brings you back,” he said.
“ To a happier time?” she questioned.
