Each time a fluffy cloud passed by; Sally Winslow had to fight off the brisk wind to get her flowered sheets hung on the backyard clothesline. It was a practice she had become addicted to since being a little girl helping with the wash.
Though a petulant breeze, it was thankfully dry and finished off her last batch of sheets and towels. A glisten of proper female perspiration splayed across her cheeks and forehead. Being a former state girls' tennis champion, Sally blotted the moisture with her ever present terrycloth wristbands.
Distracted for a moment, she turned around at the sound of a car in the driveway. An apple red sedan from one of those K-car manufacturers was there and the driver was out and slowly walking towards her. She waved and got one in return.
"Hi Mrs. Winslow," said the boy topping six feet easily. Looking up she had to shield her eyes to properly see all of his features. And what features they were.
"Well, how have you been stranger? Haven't seen you in ages. Did you give my son a ride home?"
"I did. He went right into the house. Well, I need to get home," said Kirk Lanier slowly backing further away toward his car. Sally started to follow him.
"Hold it. Where are you rushing off to? Don't you have a minute to talk? In fact, I'll have Sonny get some steaks out and we can grill by the pool. Oh, tell me you'll stay for dinner."
The boy was closer to the car then his possible host.
"I'll have to take a raincheck. Thanks for the offer. Anyhow, tell Sonny I'll pick him up at the usual time tomorrow."
A brief wave from over the departing shoulder then, Kirk was nothing more than taillights. Of course, Sally Winslow hoped that in the future she would disprove her assumption of her being almost the hill. Besides, rainchecks were meant to be cashed in.
"Oh my god, what happened to you?"
Her son, only a couple of weeks away from 19 and his high school graduation, seated on the corner of his Abbott and Costello bed spread trussed up like he fell off of Mount Everest, stared back at her with an innocence belying a smirk to which his mom had become accustomed.
"What?"
"You know very well what I mean mister. Who did this to you? Tell me it wasn't Kirk."
"No Mom. It wasn't Kirk. Remember after baseball and the coach told us we needed to find a fall sport to keep us in shape during the offseason?"
"Yes, and?"
"Well, I didn't want to play football so I picked wrestling. And no, I didn't tell you because I thought you might object and not give permission then Kirk reminded me that I was going to be 19 and wouldn't need your permission."
"How nice of him. Go on."
"There's not much more to tell. I went to my first practice, did my warm up and stretching and the coach had the captain of the team show me a few moves. And he did but it was my fault. He told me to just to walk through it and not resist but"
"But the stubborn from your father in you couldn't just be passive."
Sonny nodded his chestnut-haired head shaved up on both sides. "Yeah, then his pride kicked in and he picked me up in the air and tossed me over his shoulder onto my shoulder. That's how it got dislocated."
"Does it hurt? Did they take x-rays? Do you need surgery?"
"No. The team doctor looked at it, popped it back into place then trussed me up with this tape. He gave me a couple of rolls to replace the tape in a couple of days. Three weeks tops and then I can come back."
Sally moved two steps closer and took her General Patton like stance of which Sonny was very familiar.
"Like hell you will. I know you are old enough to make your own decisions but I am still your mother. And I hope that you would still listen to me."
"Of course, mom. I just thought that if Dad were here, he would be proud of me."
His mom started to melt once her son brought up the specter of his deceased war hero father. Wasn't it enough that he was almost a carbon copy of the late Marine? She threw her arms around him and he winced notably.
"Sorry. Did you take a shower?" He shook his head. "Let me make dinner and then I'll set you up in the master bathroom and you can take a sponge bath."
He agreed.
Dinner was relatively on time. The steaks she had promised Kirk were instead devoured by the family at the table. Sally stared at her son, reminiscing as to how much he looked like his father. It was a quiet night. Little conversation. Much reminiscing.
Sonny got up to clear the dishes but Sally said she would do it as he bathed. Once she had prepped the master bath for his washing experience, she called for him to come hither.
"Come hither, Mom? You been watching PBS again?" A recognizable smirk creased his face.
She slapped his lower back as he passed by. "Get in there. You smell like a compost heap. Do you need help? I set you up in the walk-in shower. Sit on the seat in the corner. I'll take your shirt."
This action required a yelp from her off spring.
"Sorry. Can you get your shorts off?"
"I'll try."
"Hang on. I'll help." Stepping forward she grabbed each side of his blue shorts with the swoosh and yanked them down to his ankles. There were no briefs, just a jockstrap with plastic cup."
"Mom!" He splashed her from the shower sprayer in his good hand. "Now we're even."
"I am your mother and have washed athletic supporters all of your life, my life and your dad's life. I'll turn around. You slide it off and toss it out here. I'll get it washed or call the Hazmat people for help. "
He tossed out the jock with her back turned then splashed her again, a lot more. Her U.S. Marine Corps t-shirt was soaked.
"Stop it. Now I have to go change. Turn your back." Sally pulled the shirt off over her head and tossed it into the hamper. But instead of leaving to take her bra off in the other room, she unhooked it then slid it off the front and took a long moment to admire her breasts in the mirror, fingering the nipples into rigidity
