She maintained a fairly steady 50 miles per hour despite the speed limit of 30. It made me nervous, but I should have expected it. Everything about Miss Frobisher was fast. Her little sportster was a manual transmission, which a bit unusual for a woman to drive, at least back in that day and age. But there was much about Miss Frobisher that was unusual for a woman. Of course, I didn’t know how to drive stickshift myself, so I wasn’t about to say anything. I determined that I would learn to drive one. At least that was one inadequacy I could overcome. She barely talked to me either. I wondered if she was angry with me for something. Though I’d had to rush like crazy, I’d been at her appointed pick-up spot a few minutes early, so it couldn’t be that. I couldn’t think of anything I’d done that she could find fault with. ‘Looks like rain,’ I said, with hopes of breaking the silence. Stupid move. No response from her. She must have heard me, though. She was probably thinking, ‘no shit,. We kissed, I held her close, we moved forward and I helped her up on the berth then threw her legs over my shoulders and went to town on her for what felt like quite a while… …then there was a gentle knocking on the hull… ‘Uh-Ma’am?’ came an insistent voice somewhere on the dock, ‘Ma’am, I think you’re needed — now!’ ‘Shit!’ she said as she sat up, then: ‘Hank, you sure know how to eat pussy!’ ‘Thanks.’ I think I smiled. ‘Uh, Ma’am?’ the disembodied voice continued. ‘I think Jerry’s headed this way…’ ‘Right!’ she said. ‘Well, a mother’s job…’ I stood back and helped her up. ‘Go take a seat, I’ll fix you a drink…’ ‘Balls,’ she said. ‘Don’t bother!’ She stomped off the boat and strode like an army general back toward the stage. ‘She’s a goddamn force of nature!’ I said. ‘You got that right, buddy,’ the invisible voice said. All in all, things felt a little surreal. Well, really, maybe more than a little. +++++ I slipped on some trousers and made my way back up to the party a while.
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