“Shhh!” they urged each other, and had to push their faces into each other’s collarbones to keep the noise down. With her nose pressed down in the sweet hollow of his neck, Abby could smell his scent that was part spicy deodorant, part sandalwood aftershave, and all Mitch. He was laughing so hard at their attempts not to laugh that he snorted into her neck, which made her arch her back with her own less-than-silent laughter. Tears ran down both of their faces, moistening everything they touched, most of all each other.
Finally, when it died down, they snuggled in each other’s arms.
Mitch had football shoulders, and eight inches over her five feet four, but his waist and hips were narrow and he had the long, slim leg muscles of a distance runner, so it was really only the top half of them that was crowded in the bed. Abby knew how to solve that by rolling toward him so he could wrap his arms around her while below their legs entwined. Wound around each other, they commenced plain old smooching again, silently meeting lips to lips again and again, working up to longer kisses, greater intensity, which was sure, eventually, to lead to more almost-out-of-control hilarity. Or, to more serious things, if they weren’t careful. On this night, Abby didn’t want to be careful, but Mitch didn’t know that yet.
They were about halfway to something when there was a loud rap on the door to Abby’s bedroom.
They froze in each other’s arms.
The doorknob rattled as somebody tried to get in.
They were fully dressed, lying on top of the covers, with Bruce Springsteen in the background singing “Badlands” on an album turned up just loud enough to cover suspicious noises.
“Abby?” It was her mother’s voice. “Why’s your door locked, honey?”
“Don’t come in, Mom!”
“Why not?”
“Because…I’m working on your birthday present!”
“Oh!” They heard her mother, Margie, laugh on the other side of the door. “In that case! I wondered where you had disappeared to. I haven’t seen you in hours.” Her tone turned teasing. “Mitch’s not in there, is he?”
“Mother!”
“When did he leave? I didn’t hear him go.”
“Hours ago!”
“Are you sure I can’t come in, Abby? Maybe you need some help getting those diamonds glued onto that gold necklace?”
“You wish!” Abby called back. “With my allowance?”
“Okay, then.” Her mother feigned a martyred tone. “If you won’t let me help…”
Mitch slid one hand up under Abby’s sweater, over her ribs under her loosened bra, then onto her left breast, and she moaned softly.
“What?” her mother called from the other side of the door.
Abby closed her eyes in bliss, then opened them, and forced herself to say, “Mom?”
Mitch lifted her sweater, exposing her bare breast, and brought his mouth down onto it.
“What, honey?”
Abby felt as if her entire body was a single nerve cell vibrating from her left nipple.
“Is Dad here?”
Mitch’s other hand began a slow descent under the waistband of her blue jeans, sliding lower, lower, stopping when it reached its destination. Unable to bear the torture, Abby put her hands on each of his and pressed, making him stop right where he was.
He grinned, and waited.
“Dad’s back,” her mother answered. Abby had seen her father leave the house on a medical call several hours before, and he hadn’t been home for supper, but she hadn’t paid attention to when he came back. Her mother said, “Hey, have you looked outside? You know it’s snowing, don’t you?”
“Really?” Abby turned her head toward her windows and then Mitch did, too. Together they looked out at snow falling heavily in the glow of the driveway lights. Abby turned back to call to her mom, “How much are we going to get?”
“Enough to close school tomorrow.”
“Yippee!”
They heard her mom laugh again. “You sound like a little kid when you do that. I’ll have to take you sledding and give you hot chocolate in the morning. We’re going to bed, sweetheart. You go ahead and work all night on my gift, if you have to.”
Abby laughed, and called out, “Night! Love you!”
When she said the last words, she looked into her boyfriend’s eyes.
“Love you, too,” her mother’s disappearing voice called back, as Mitch mouthed the exact same words to Abby. They didn’t move until they heard the door to her parents’ bedroom shut. Then Abby wiggled under him, encouraging him. “Let’s take our clothes off,” she whispered, and he didn’t need to be asked twice.
They had never had intercourse. They had been boyfriend and girlfriend forever, stealing kisses when they were only eight and ten years old. By junior high, they were petting until they were both crazed. Through the years, they had made out as if they were going for advanced degrees in kissing. They had been totally naked together as many times as they could get the privacy to strip. Mitch’s fingers had been inside of her, her hands had taken him to climax, but they had never had intercourse.
“I do love you,” Abby promised him.
“I do love you, too,” Mitch said, with as much fervor as if he was taking an oath on a Bible.
“Stay with me all night,” she said, in a rush of words.
“I don’t know if I can stand it,” he said, and laughed quietly. “I’d better go.”
“No.” Abby looked directly into his beautiful brown eyes that were gazing so tenderly back at her. “Stay. You don’t have to stand it anymore.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Huh?”
“Let’s…do it.”
“You’re kidding. Tonight?”
For answer, she stroked him where he could least resist her.
Mitch moaned, and said, “Oh God, Abby.”
But he pulled away from her. “Listen. Are you sure?”
“Yeah, let’s get it over with.”
Mitch pulled back again. “Get it over with?”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” she said quickly. “I just mean, we’ve made it into such a big deal. Maybe that’s a mistake. It kind of scares me, that it’s such a big deal. I mean, maybe it’s not that big a deal after you actually do it. Billions of people have done it, right? Millions of people are probably doing it right this minute, all over the world. In London and Paris. In Singapore and Bangladesh. And right here, this very night, in Small Plains.”
“No way!” he exclaimed in mock shock.
“Even here,” she assured him. “I’ve thought about this a lot.”
“I can tell.”
“So maybe we ought to just-”
Mitch leaned toward her and began to kiss her gently. Then he whispered, “I thought we were going to wait for a special time, so we could plan it and do it right. Candles and shit.”
Abby laughed and covered her mouth.
“Candles and shit? Geez, you’re romantic!”
Mitch laughed, too. “You know what I mean. Valentine’s Day. Or New Year’s Eve. Like that. A fancy dinner, then we’d go someplace where nobody knew us.”
“And I’d be so nervous I’d mess everything up,” she told him, confessing her fear.
He pursed his lips in thought, which forced her to lean forward to plant a kiss on them.
“Hm,” he said, after a moment, “too much pressure, you mean?”
“Yeah, too much pressure for something that’s supposed to be so natural.”
“This isn’t about me going to college, is it, Abby?”
“Cripes!” she exclaimed in a loud whisper. “I can’t believe this! I have to convince you? I have to sell you on the idea of having sex with me?”
“Shhh! I’m sorry!” he told her. “I’m surprised, that’s all. Of course I want to do it, but geez, Abby, your folks are right down the hall.”