She’d most of the time come to the side door in a red nightgown. I always figured she was waiting for her husband to come home from the office. She’d brush aside the door curtain, see that it was me, and retreat to get her purse. Then she opened the door and lean into the screen door and rifle thru that purse for the exact change.“How are you, Cully-boy?”“I’m fine, Mrs. Miles.”It was then that her nightgown would part and her flaming red panties would appear. She’d count out the exact coinage, then at the last would include a .50 cent tip each Tuesday night. Well, most Tuesday nights, sometimes her husband would be home from the office. I’d get the $1.25 and nary tip.“Thank you, Mr. Miles.”“Yeah, kid, okay.” He was always gruff. Always.I’d save Mrs. Miles for last then go home, ensconce myself in the bathroom with mother’s ladies magazines organized on the floor in front of the toilet to the pages, yes, the pages of the ladies underwear ads and pull it with visions of Mrs. Miles and. His gaze lingered on the crease of skin that marked the top of her thigh and the start of her rounded cheek. His palm tingled with the memory of its pliable warmth. ‘Here, use these.’ Natalie had dug into a cabinet on the other side of the kitchen. ‘My grandmother gave me these a while back and I’ve never had a good enough reason to put them to use. I suppose wine like that probably deserves some special treatment.’ The long-stemmed crystal glasses were absolutely the nicest things in the kitchen. Adam poured three healthy servings and handed one to each of the girls. Out of habit, he raised his glass before drinking. Natalie said, ‘What are we drinking to?’ Adam was unprepared and fumbled for words. Laurie spoke up for him, ‘To our complicated relationship. It’s made everything more interesting.’ Natalie smiled, said, ‘Hear, hear.’ and took a sip. ‘Oh, my. That’s yummy stuff.’ Adam barely tasted his sip. Laurie had spoken about ‘our relationship’ as if all three of them were.
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