I barely could comprehend at first. Wait, that is my mother. She is calling me.
"Yeah, mom?" I was still mostly asleep.
"Get in the shower. Mrs. Peavy is here. She needs you to help her with some chores. "
Mrs.Peavy? I was awake now. Mrs.Peavy was my buddy's mom. We were going to graduate in a week. A week after, I was headed off to Marine boot camp. Jim was going to college in the fall. Mr.Peavy had been my baseball coach since little league. So you see why this is so hard to talk about?
Mary Peavy was about 10 years younger than her husband. Mary was in her mid 40's. She was a tall girl. Mrs.Peavy had a fantastic figure and dressed to impress. Long dark hair, full red lips and long painted nails. Many a weekend I stayed at Jim's house, eating pizza and watching dvds or tapes. Mrs. Peavy has this thing for John Wayne. Over the years I think I saw every movie with him in it. Or I almost, anyways. She would always wear these short night gowns, curl up on the couch, painted toes tucked under her bottom and her top would be just wide enough open to tantalize me. She seemed to always like me over at the house, and Jim was one of the pitchers, and I really liked Jims company. I loved the way she would always press her body closer to me and give me that customary peck on the cheek when it was time for me to go home. I think I was living for that. But she was simply destined to be a young boys fantasy, as she was married to my best friends father.
"Ok, mom. Give me a minute. Hi, Mrs. Peavy!" I called out. My head still reeled a bit. It had been my birthday two nights ago. I turned 18. We went to a Padres game and after, back to Jim's place. Mr.Peavy gave me so much beer I got sick. Mrs.Peavy took care of me and got me home. Still, all this doesn't explain what she was doing here. I dried off, put on my jeans, cowboy boots and a t shirt. I came down stairs and Mrs.Peavy and mom were at the table. Of course they had the coffee and cigarettes. Mrs.Peavy has the brightest smile! She was wearing a black t shirt and short cutoffs, and her long legs were crossed as she dragged on her smoke. She smiled and blew out a puff. I didn't fail to notice her sandals either. Man, she had the hottest little toes.
"Want to work for me, today? Your mom is loaning you to me. Are you busy?"
"No, Mrs.Peavy,'I said, "I thought Mr.Peavy and Jim were up on the river fishing this weekend?"
"They are,' Mrs. Peavy smiled. "That's why I need some help. I am trying to do some painting and I can't do it alone. Would you be a sweetie and help me?"