I have been a writer all of my adult life, but finally I was able to produce a novel which sold big, and thus I was able to move into a beautiful penthouse apartment on the Upper West Side of New York City, a place where I had always wanted to live.
My brother Dan lived with his family about halfway out on Long Island. His family consisted of his wife Meg, a daughter, Andie, and a son, Andrew. Even when I lived in New Jersey, I used to visit them a couple of times a year and developed a nice relationship with Andie, who undoubtedly was the smartest one of the family. Now, Andie had graduated from high school and at the age of eighteen was enrolled as a drama major in New York University. She certainly had the right equipment to be a drama major: She was about five-seven with a slender figure and long dark curly hair. She looked amazingly like the young Katie Holmes—before she met Tom Cruise—and I'm sure was often mistaken for her.
I had suggested to Andie the last time I saw her that she give me a call sometime after she got established at college, and I would take her out to a play and a late dinner afterward. But I didn't know this would happen so soon. She was only at college for two weeks when she called me.
"Uncle Wayne?" she said over the phone, "Is that invitation to visit you and spend the weekend at your apartment still good?"
"I don't remember about the weekend at the apartment, but sure, it's still good. I'm not doing anything this weekend. Do you want me to see if I can get tickets to a play or musical?"
"That would be great."
So, pulling a few strings, I was able to get a pair of tickets to the new version of Sweeney Todd. Andie knocked on my door around four in the afternoon.
"Hi!" she said. "I'm here." She was carrying an overnight bag.
We spent the rest of the afternoon just sitting around drinking wine and talking about my work and about her school. A little after five, she took a rest, a shower, and came out ready for the theatre wearing a lowcut black velvet dress and dark stockings. She looked stunning. I had always remembered her as a "little kid", so this was quite a revelation.
"You look beautiful," I said.
"Thank you."
The musical was a good choice, very entertaining, and after it, we took a cab over to the Tavern on the Green for a late light dinner of cold seafood and chardonnay. By the time we were ready to leave, I could see that she was quite "jolly" from the wine.
The only problem was: It was pouring rain outside, and the New York axiom is: You can't get a cab when it's raining. We waited about twenty minutes, but it was no use.
"It's only six blocks," I said. "You want to walk it?"
"Sure."
"You'll get soaked."
"I don't mind." She took off her shoes and held them up in her hand by the straps. "See?"
So we walked the six blocks back to my apartment, and I was right: We were both soaked when we entered. But she was laughing and enjoying herself thoroughly.
"I'm sorry, I don't have a lady's dress around here to offer you," I said. "But there is a terrycloth robe in the bathroom you can put on, and I'll make you a hot toddy if you want."
"Sounds great."
"Let me go to the bathroom first. Men take less time than women, and then I'll be able to get your hot toddy ready."
"Okay."
I grabbed my blue velour robe from the bedroom, went into the bathroom, doffed my wet clothes, took a quick hot shower, and put on the robe.
"Also, I have a small washer and dryer," I said as I emerged. "So if you give me your wet clothes, I'll be able to dry them for you."
"Okay."
"But you said something about wanting to spend the night, didn't you?"
"Yes."
"That's fine with me, but I only have the one bed. You can sleep on the couch if you want."
"Okay," she said, as she walked over to the bathroom in her wet clothes.
She emerged a little while later in the white terrycloth robe and looking squeaky clean. "I left my wet clothes in the bathroom," she said.
"That's okay. I'll dry them later." I handed her the hot toddy made of rum, hot water and spices, and we both sat at opposite ends of the couch. Across from us was the large penthouse window looking out over the city and the nearby apartments.
"Thish is good," she said, sipping it. I could tell that she was already a little tipsy.
"It will warm you up."
She drew her legs up, not realizing that she was affording me a beautiful view of her lovely thighs plus the little tuft of brunette hair and the two lips between them.
"Did I ever tell you that I had a crush on you when I was young?" she asked.
"No, but you're still young now."
"When I was fifteen. I thought you represented everything I wanted to be: dashing, adventurous, daring."
I smiled. "How nice."
