Read Online My Soon-To-Be Sex Life by Judith Tewes - Free Book Online Page B

the old folks home. He was crazy frugal.
    â€œTake what you need,” he said. “Didn’t cost me a thing.” He glanced at the clock above the fireplace. “It’s awful early to be out. And cold. You need a ride somewhere?”
    â€œNo. I’m walking. It’s not far.” I pilfered a knee length military style navy jacket. It was huge on me. I added a few cardigans underneath for extra bulk.
    â€œYour mother call this week?”
    â€œNo.” I wished he would stop with the questions. Sweat dampened my armpits. The wool cardigans itched.
    â€œYou going to visit her?”
    I shrugged. It was my scheduled day to drop by but I hadn’t decided if I was ready for the inevitable emotional wringer waiting beyond the hospital doors. Last visit with Mom ended with me shoving my boob at the nearest hottie. Who knew what treats were in store this time?
    â€œWanna talk about anything? School? Your mother? Boys? Your mother?”
    â€œNot really.”
    Monty reddened. “God damn! I hate this parenting crap.”
    I decided enough was enough and slammed him with a few questions of my own. “Want to tell me where you were last night? And why you left the doors open?”
    Monty took out his teeth, gave me a gummer grin, which could have meant anything, and popped the dentures back in his gob.
    â€œThis isn’t exactly a posh area of town, Monty. You’re an old fart, an easy target. Next time, lock’er up before you decide to go see the strippers, or whatever you were doing until all hours.”
    He turned away as dramatically as he could while still rubbing Mona and keeping his butt firmly planted on the couch. He grabbed the remote and flicked through channels. “Just get your skinny ass home by dark.”
    One more question from him and I might have buckled. One more crinkle of those tired old eyes and I might have blurted out the whole sordid mess – the list, the photo, the elevator, the groping. Instead, I left M&M to their black and white movies and belly rubs.
    I set off for the restaurant, and the guy I couldn’t get out of my head.

Chapter Eleven
    The snowballs came out of nowhere.
    I’d been blithely trudging the sidewalks, picking my way through the half-melted, soggy remains of a blizzard, (people who don’t shovel = pure evil), when great balls of snow pummeled me from all directions.
    I crouched, covering my head, and eyed the landscape for an escape route.
    â€œCease fire!” a kid’s voice rang out in the otherwise empty street.
    I spotted his legs as he hid behind a parked SUV sporting huge, traction-enhanced, chain-wrapped tires. If only that worked for boots.
    â€œWe just hit an old man!” another boy yelled from behind me.
    An old man? Where? I peeked out from under my arm, but the only victim on the street was me. Then I remembered Monty’s loaner – in my hat and with the rest of my hair tucked under the bulky coat, I must have looked like a frumpy, fat old geezer.
    Like Monty.
    I lost it - chortled so hard I lost my breath. I braced my hands on my thighs, coughing air back into my lungs.
    â€œHe’s having a heart attack or something. Call 911!”
    I heard the crunch of many feet heading my way as the boys got brave and came to check me out. No longer laughing, I searched the ground and there it was, glimmering in the morning light - the most magnificent patch of snow. Unspoiled, protected by an awning, it had melted to the perfect snowball consistency. An adequate snowball is impossible without the right kind of snow. Every kid knows this, has memorized the texture, the required moisture ratio. Once learned, it is never forgotten.
    I stooped and quickly gathered enough white stuff for a few good rounds. Though I hadn’t indulged in years, I squeezed and pressed without thought, running on pure adrenaline.
    When Crunchy Feet got close enough I spun in slow mo and then let my balls