“My grandfather first started bringing me up here when I was a little kid. It was the best times of my life from what I could remember as a kid. My mother was always so happy then. We would always spend Christmas up here, to get the white Christmas, the open fire, making fudge, hot chocolate, and my mom would bake sugar cookies, too. It was a great time. I have a lot of fond memories of the place.
And then when my grandfather died, my mother couldn’t afford to rent the place, besides it was just the two of us then.”
“So, how often do you go back now?” Libby asked.
“Well, actually this will be the first time in about two years,” I said. “I just haven’t had the inclination. I’m not sure why.”
“Maybe, you haven’t had the right motivation,” Libby teased.
I looked over at her and she was unbuttoning the top button on her jeans.
I couldn’t keep from smiling. “Wow… ok…”
Libby started to put her hand down inside her jeans and then stopped. “Nah, I don’t think it’s a good idea with you driving and all.”
I gasped. “Ah, you little tease… That is so not right.”
I was already getting very hard and turned on. If Toby had not been there I very well might have suggested pulling over so I could ravage her sweet body.
“Well, when you get to where we are going then you have something to look forward to,” Libby said.
“Damn,” I said. “That is the right type of motivation. But you are right; we shouldn’t be reckless. These roads can get icy and they are winding.”
“Have you ever done it in the car before?” Libby asked with a naughty look on her face.
I laughed. “Yes, a few times. But not this car. How about you?”
“Oh, I knew I shouldn’t have opened this can of worms.”
“I hear a story coming in there…”
“Yeah,” Libby said. “My first time was in the back seat of a car. Prom night, as if I couldn’t get any more cliché.”
“Wow, was it as much fun as it sounded?”
“Not really,” Libby said. “I remember it being really fast, hurting a little bit, and then being kind of messy, and then it was over. And then I was on my way home.”
I couldn’t stop laughing. “Wait a minute. So the guy took you to Prom, but didn’t splurge for the limo, didn’t get a hotel room, and then just dumped you off at home like, right after? I do hope that guy didn’t get a second date.”
Libby giggled. “He did not,” she said. “He actually didn’t even call me or really talk to me again after that. I waited another two years before I went that far with someone. That’s how angry and disgusted I was by it.”
“There are jerks out there, especially high school guys. Odds are, he was so embarrassed by his own performance that he talked a bunch of smack at school and then just had to ignore you like the plague for his tall tales to hold up.”
“Are you speaking from experience?”
“Not personally, but I did have friends back then who were just that damn stupid.”
“Are you sure you don’t have some personal stories to tell?” Libby prodded.
I looked at her and then back to the road. “I do not,” I said. “I have always been a stand up type of guy, even back then. Probably because I got a taste of it at an early age.”
“What happened?”
“Not much to tell. We were thirteen, at our first boy-girl party. We did the seven minute closet game. And well, the girl I was with was a bit more advanced, and she took things to another level. I think I just got it over early and I never developed any nervousness or weird hang-ups about sex. But I’ve always hated guys who treat women like creeps. I’ll admit I haven’t always been Mr. Perfect or anything; I did some stupid stuff when I was young, too, but I never intentionally tried to hurt anyone’s feelings. Just sometimes at that age you don’t always see how your behavior affects other people. But looking back now, even then I didn’t really have much to apologize for. My mama raised me right.”
“I would have loved to have met your mother,” Libby said quietly.
I glanced at her, then reached over and touched her hand, cupping it beneath mine. “Yeah, she would have liked you. I think the two of you have similar personalities.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, you are both fiery, strong in your convictions, and you are both courageous enough to stand up to whatever you fear most and dare it to knock you down.”
Libby wiped a tear from her eye. “That was beautiful; thanks.”
“Sure, honey,” I said. I kissed her hand and continued to hold it. The road had straightened out for a bit, and I wanted to get as much handholding done as I could before things started to get a bit curvy.