The Crew Pt. 08

"You're nineteen years old???" Hannah giggled.

"Later," I said. "Not the point right now."

Hannah then rescued me, turning back to my mom. "Really," she said, "the point is that Jamie helped me get past some big time fears about casually being nude around others. It's a rather long story."

"I'll tell you about it on the ride home," I interjected.

"No need," my mom said. "I'm sure you'll write it up as soon as you can. I'll read that version. It'll probably be better." She was bustling around the room again. Picking up and repacking her case. Clearing the last of the food from the fridge and dropping it into the cooler. "If want to go back to sleep for a bit, that's fine. Your father's not being released until noon. I popped by to let you know and to get quick shower and change." She slipped on the sneakers and pulled the shift over her head. Not bothering with underwear.

"I see where you get it from," Hannah whispered.

"By the way..." my mother said, stuffing my Clam Shak bag into her oversized purse, "...I'm stealing the rest of this Clamburger. Your dad's feeling better and that means he's grumpy. He's just about had it with hospital food and I promised to smuggle something in that would get a dietician fired. Hannah, it was lovely to meet you. Hope to see you again the next time we're here. Jamie, I'll see you at noon sharp. Anything earlier and I'll likely still be up to my nipples in paperwork." She hugged Hannah, then me, then blew out the door.

"She's a real force of nature, isn't she?" Hannah said in amazement.

"Oh, you have no idea," I replied. "And she was on good behavior today."

"So you're really only nineteen?" she smirked.

"I'll be twenty in January."

"Thanks," she laughed. "That makes it so much better." She wrapped me into a full body hug and kissed me, grabbing my ass and snickering. "You're a horrible influence, you know. Last night I was rolling along, minding my own business and freaking out nicely on my own, flashing the tops of my boobs and flirting with this really cute guy in the restaurant. This morning I wake up naked after partying with a bunch of middle aged nudists and spending the night making out with my little brother. And then end up having a crazy conversation about it all with our naked mom. No problem at all. Move along. Nothing unusual here."

"Welcome to my planet," I said, sliding my hand up and cupping one of her breasts. Tweaking a nipple. "It looks a lot like the one we both went to bed on a couple of weeks ago. But there seem to be subtle differences emerging. I think I could grow to like it here."

"So could I," she replied, moving her hand down to cup my balls, playfully squeezing. "The differences seem to have captured my interest." She kissed me again then. Deeply. "And I'm thinking that maybe normal isn't all it's cracked up to be. It hasn't always been nice to me. There might be something to say in favor of crazy cherishable friends and moments. You think?"

I agreed.

We ended up playing and cuddling until the alarm went off at nine-thirty. Hit the snooze. Five times. She finally got dressed and left after leaving me her address and number in one of my notebooks and promising she would try and arrange some time off to come over and catch That Damn Band's last official gig on the official opening weekend of Sal's new club in The City in three weeks and two days. Get a chance to meet Petey and Scoot and the rest of the crew. We'd stay in touch and work out the details.

I slammed a mini pot of naked coffee in the room. Kept an eye out the window just to be sure the kid didn't come back to mess the bulldog on the car. Then I threw on my cargo shorts and my Buddy Guy shirt and caught the very end of the complimentary continental breakfast. Loaded up on lukewarm bacon and sausage and powdered scrambled eggs and sugar crème long johns. And caffeine. Filled my thermos with coffee and went back and loaded the car. Pulled up under the hospital entrance canopy with seven minutes to spare. My parents were waiting.

My father called shot-gun. All the way to the interstate, he kept glancing my way and smirking. Looking smug. I was trying to concentrate, but once I got onto the open road and into the groove, I asked him. "What???" He just laughed.

"He's gloating," my mother groused from the back seat. "He bet me you and the waitress would end up connecting before the week was out. I told him he was crazy. You cost me twenty bucks, so shut up and drink your coffee and drive." My dad and I both cracked up.

Other than bathroom breaks and stopping for gas and a snack and a fifteen minute power nap in Erie, I drove us straight through to home. Six hours and fifty six minutes. We bantered and talked for a while, but for most of the trip my parents both slept, as expected. I stayed awake surfing from station to station as various FM signals got stronger and faded. We pulled up behind the farmhouse just before seven.

Sharon was there and had supper ready for us. She was spending the night. She told me Scooter had gone back to Vicksville with Pete and Marcie and Izzy that morning but planned to call the next day and fill me in on the latest crazy. So it goes. I unloaded. We got naked and ate and settled my dad in his chair in the living room with a movie. Mickey Spillane, I think. Then I stole a beer from his stash in the pantry fridge and went out to my house in the barn. Stacked up some UB40 and Marley and Stevie Ray Vaughn and wrote until well past midnite. This.

I know my mom will come out in the morning to check on me. That's what she does. I'm leaving the notebook open on the table beside my recliner. Next to the empty Rolling Rock bottle and the twenty bucks I had left from the Clam Shak. She'll notice. She'll read it. We can talk later on in the day. Maybe out at the quarry. I'm gonna crash now. WRIF FM is doing all old school album rock and jazz tonight. Coltrane and Bird and Jethro Tull. Why do late night female radio hosts sound so sexy?