“But those are nice flowers.”Mike was already looking very sheepish. Mrs. Attenborough’s comment made him hide behind the biggest bunch of flowers I’d ever seen. He was shifting about uncertainly, clearly unsure what he was supposed to do. It was as though he’d been told that flowers were required but didn’t actually know what to ‘do’ with them.It was the first time anyone had bought me flowers. I’d didn’t really know what to do with them either. Mrs. Attenborough snatched them. “I’ll go and put these in some water. You two… well…” she said, giving me a private smile. “Don’t do anything I haven’t done.”I was scared as the door clicked shut, leaving me alone with Mike. I didn’t know what to say, so I just kissed him.He didn’t kiss back; he just stood there woodenly.However, part of him did respond and I felt his thing swell and grow: that was normal, it happened every time I touched him. The difference was, I knew what it was for and what it felt like inside me.I wanted it inside me. Here I was, behaving like an 8 th grader wondering if the girl two seats back and one over might like me, and I was unable to develop any lucid series of actions that might allow me to meet her. It’s said that sometimes it’s better to be lucky than good. When I arrived home she was out front, trying to do something to hold back a flood of water springing up from near her front hose-bib. I sprinted across the street, and was able finally to do a chivalrous deed for her. Ahhh! A knight in shining armor—saved her from the fierce dragon of a broken water line by braving the spurting flood and deftly turning the main ball-cock 90 degrees. Although her cotton blouse and jeans were drenched through to saturation, she was so relieved that she for a moment forgot herself and hugged me close. My face must have communicated the wrong message. I intended for it to say, “Wow! I love this. Never stop. Please!” what my face must have said was “Is there a looser woman on the planet? We only just.
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