My name is James Waterbury. I was born in a town in California in 1960. Actually, it's more accurate to say that I was born and living in one of the big cities in California. However, our home was in one of the suburbs, and at that time (not anymore!) was almost separated from the actual city by fields and small forests and undeveloped land. It was like our own special town. We only went into "the City" if we wanted or needed to go into the city. I don't know if that information is particularly relevant to my story, but I just thought I'd start out by describing what our neighborhood was like in the '60s and early '70s.
Besides me, my family includes my father Andrew, my mother Vivian, and my brother Matthew, who is one year older than me. There is also a girl, of whom I'll speak more, later. My dad is an auto mechanic. At one time, he had his own garage, but for most of his career he has worked for the County, servicing their equipment. My mom is a homemaker, mother, wife, lover (assumed, on the basis of other evidence), cook, chauffeur, dog walker, PTA member, etc., etc., etc. (I learned a long time ago that there is no such thing as "just a housewife.")
A couple of houses down the street from us live the Burkes, good family friends. Mr. Burke (George) is a pharmacist at our local drug store. His wife, Jane, has an occupation similar to my mother's. You might wonder why I'm bringing them up here. It's because that's where "the girl" fits in.
The Burkes have a birth certificate that says they had a baby girl the same year I was born. (I've seen the certificate, and it looks authentic.) They named the girl Roberta Anne Burke. Now, here's the odd part. For as long as I can remember, there was a girl with that same name who seemed to live with us. She was always eating my breakfast cereal, spilling her milk on the table at lunch, playing with my and Matt's toys, petting our animals, and taking naps on my bed. She had even been known to sit on my father's lap while he was reading stories to us. My parents seemed to accept her as part of the family, but I was pretty sure she wasn't a sister, or anything like that. She seemed to be a girl who came to visit, and just stayed.
Still, she was a nice enough creature, and Matt and I had no trouble accepting her as full-time friend and playmate. Matt has always called her "Bert." I never thought that was quite acceptable as a little girl's name, so I started calling her "Robbie." She answers to either, and seems to like them equally well.
(I should point out that, whenever we visited with the Burkes - which was quite often - the same or at least a very similar girl was always there. I don't know what I thought about that. It was all a little confusing.)
***
Whatever her actual relation to us, Robbie/Bert and Matt and I were pretty much inseparable from the very start. Relating our situation to the Three Parts of Childhood (this is something I made up, but I'm sure it's pretty much correct):
1. Until about age 10, we were part of a pack of mixed boys and girls who did everything together, and probably didn't realize most of the time that there were two sexes. The three of us joined in all pack activities, but somehow we still remained our threesome.
2. Between about 10 and 15, the sexes separated, boys hanging out with boys and girls staying pretty much as a group. I think the basic idea of this separation was so the older boys could tell the younger boys about girls (in later years, most information was proved incorrect), and likewise with the girls. (I think the younger girls may have actually received some useful information, as girls have always seemed to me to be smarter about this kind of info.)
Matt and I faithfully joined the male conclave, but I don't think had much to offer. Robbie went with the girls, and I suspect (from knowing her all her life) that she was one of the ring-leaders - if not actually giving information (she couldn't have known much at that age), just keeping the conversations going. Even with this semi-forced segregation, the three of us seemed to spend as much time together as we ever did. (We were careful not to divulge any secret or privileged information from the other "camp."
3. At about age 15, the boys and girls came back together, but no longer as the "pack" that we had always been. Small groups of girls and small groups of boys might hang out together, but mostly it became a time of solitary pursuits - boys seeking just the right girls to "get to know better," and girls on similar hunts. As I was a little late joining this exercise, and could view everything as an impartial observer, it amused me that so much effort went into finding who you liked when we'd all known each other since grammar school, or even kindergarten. How much more was there to "find out?" (As I grew up, I learned the answer to that question was "a lot".)
From my vantage point on the fringe of "the hunt," I saw something that surprised me, and also made me feel a little uneasy. I saw Robbie and Matt acting like boyfriend and girlfriend. The three of us still did most everything together, but once in awhile I'd see them in deep conversation by themselves, and a time or two I saw Matt put his arm over her shoulder, and kind of hold her to him. I didn't know why that should bother me. Everybody else in our group was "pairing up," Matt and Robbie would obviously make a good match, and I was beginning to realize that Robbie's easy style (and her looks!) could easily attract a lot of boys.
I didn't do anything. Well, what was there to do? I guessed it was just the natural order of things, even if I did have some kind of misgivings. However, things turned a little crazy a couple of weeks later, when Matt confided in me that he had a girlfriend. That wasn't exactly news - I suspected everybody had seen them together - but he made it "news" when he informed me that his girlfriend was Katie Matthieson. Katie had been a member of our group since the beginning, I liked her a lot, and she was certainly somebody who could provoke a boy's interest. But she was the wrong girlfriend!
"But what about Robbie?" I demanded.
He gave me a very odd look. "What about her?"
"Well, you two have been spending a lot of close time together, lately. I assumed she was your girlfriend."
He laughed, but he also looked concerned. "Bert isn't my girlfriend. She needed someone she could talk to about some private things, so I put on my "big brother" hat, so I could maybe help my little sister. Her problem isn't anything I can help with, but I can at least listen, which is what she's really needed."
I was feeling relieved, but I don't think it was all because he hadn't been mistreating Robbie. "So, not boyfriend and girlfriend?"
"Nope." He paused a minute. "Did you ever hear the phrase 'it was like kissing my sister'?"
"Nope. What does it mean?"
"It gets used in a lot of ways, but the general idea is that you expected something to be really exciting, and it wasn't. For instance, one of the guys was on a date last week, and he thought it was going pretty well. When it came to the end, he was anticipating a super 'goodnight' kiss. I guess what he got was little more than a peck on the cheek, before she went indoors. Compared to what he'd had in mind, he felt it was about like 'kissing his sister' - no excitement, nothing to remember."
He stopped, and looked at me like he was expecting a response. "Okay, I think I get it, but why are you telling me this, now?"
"Because if Bert and I kissed it would be like that - no excitement, no romance, just as it should be between a brother and a sister. We couldn't possibly be girlfriend and boyfriend."
"Okay," I said, and then had to ask, "What about you and Katie?"
He got a big grin on his face. "Definitely not a 'sister kiss'."
I was feeling much better for some reason, but then he spoiled it all, and set my stomach to twisting and turning around in me.
"I guess I can tell you, because we're all family, that what Bert wanted to talk about is a boy she really likes. They're obviously good friends, but she wants a boyfriend. On that subject, she says - and I quote - he's as dumb as a rock!"
I was feeling worse than I did when I thought Matt and Robbie were together. "Robbie has a boyfriend?"
"No, she would like to have a boyfriend. He doesn't get it, even though just about everybody else around them does."
Robbie had a boyfriend! "Is this somebody new in town?"
"Nope, he's been here from the start, and has always been a good friend, but you know how things are changing with us. Look at me and Katie, suddenly paired up after all these years of knowing each other as buddies."
Robbie had a boyfriend! "How come I don't know this about Robbie? Who is this guy?"
Matt seemed to be thinking. "No, I better not tell you. As I said, it's pretty plain to most of us, but it's still her secret. I can't divulge it. Still, you can find out for yourself pretty easily. Just watch who she's with most of the time, the boy who's always closer to her than any other boy, and around her when nobody else is. Well, you never know. He could suddenly understand the situation, and it would all be settled for everybody."
I think that's what I was afraid of.
***
The school year advanced, Robbie and I and Katie as Juniors, and Matt a Senior. I hadn't been able to find out anything about Robbie's boyfriend. Nothing seemed to have changed for her, and I wondered if it was still going on. I had mixed feelings. I thought I should want what my best friend wanted, but I actually felt a little bit happy, thinking it was over. That made me think of myself as some kind of traitor to her, and so my "happiness" was mixed with a lot of guilt. It was confusing.
One Saturday, Robbie showed up at our house, and said she needed to talk to me privately. I had no idea what we had to talk about, but she was insistent.
"Mom," I said as we passed by the kitchen, "Robbie and I are going up to my room to talk about something."
"Leave the door open."
That stopped me for a minute. "Mom, I'm talking about Robbie and me. We're not little kids, anymore."
"That's what I was thinking about." I must have looked confused (not an unusual state), and she laughed. "I'm kidding. Go off with the little homeless waif. If you're not back by supper, we'll call out a search party."
I saw Robbie blow her a kiss, and then we were in my room (with the door closed).Robbie sat on my bed. "I haven't been in here for quite awhile. It looks pretty much the same, although I don't think it has quite the 'boy aroma' that it used to have."
"Ha hah. I think my mattress has a permanent depression in it , from all the times Mom found you asleep in here. You were kind of a homeless little waif, weren't you?"
"Not at all. I'm the only girl I know who grew up with two lovely mothers, two lovely fathers, and too mostly-lovely brothers. I was - and am! - very lucky."
"As a little kid, I couldn't understand how the same girl could live in two different houses, but it worked out pretty good. So, what do we need to talk about?"
She hesitated. "This is a little embarrassing." She did manage to look a little embarrassed, or something. "You know that the Junior-Senior Prom is coming up?" (Just before graduation each year, there was a formal dance for just the Juniors and Seniors.) I acknowledged that I did know that.
"Do you have a date?
She knew I didn't. "No, I hadn't planned to go."
"Oh, okay. Well, here's my problem. I don't have a date, either, and I really want to go. I was wondering if you'd take me?"
I had not expected that! Where was Mr. X, the mysterious boyfriend? Shouldn't he be taking her? I was confused. (There's that word, again!) I wanted to go to the prom with her, but... "Won't it be a little awkward for you, appearing with your almost-brother?"
"I don't think so. Everybody knows how close we are."
"Yes, but won't they also know that you're not there with your first choice?" After I said it, I wondered if that was something I was supposed to know about She didn't answer, anyway. "You know I can't dance," I continued.
"You dance pretty well, and when two people dance together over and over again, they soon get better and better at it." She paused. "However, that is something you should consider before you say 'yes.' This isn't like a regular school dance, where everybody dances with everybody. The prom is for couples, and it would just be the two of us dancing together all evening. Well, I don't mean we have to dance every dance - we can sit out some of them, drink punch, and visit with the other couples, or go outside for some air - but what I mean is, when we dance, it would always be just you and me."
I don't know if she thought that might discourage me. It didn't. It was one of those awkward traitorous-feeling moments, again, when I should feel sorry that she wasn't going to be with Mister X , but instead felt amazingly happy she was going with me. I said yes.
***
Prom night finally arrived. All the Senior men wore tuxes, and Matt I thought was the picture of elegance. I had on a brand-new dark suit that I thought fit well enough to emphasize the one or two muscles I had, and made me look suave and debonaire. "My name is Bond James Bond." (I didn't say that out loud to anybody.)
With Matt driving the family car, we picked up Robbie, then went to get Katie. Robbie sat in back with me, and Katie sat next to Matt, as it should have been. We didn't have a lot of time to inspect the girls and their apparel before they were in the car, but it was clear that we were almost suffocated in acres and acres of shiny, colorful fabric. The faint aroma of perfume was enough to have me a little intoxicated (in a non-alcoholic way) before we reached the school.
Inside, we joined with the throngs of similarly-attired boys and girls. It was hard to take it all in. Every guy was handsome, and every girl was beautiful. There was no question in my mind that Robbie was the most beautiful of all, but I know that - in a contest - every man would be obligated to vote for his own date. Even considering that bias, anyone with good vision and an objective mind would have put Robbie very near the top of the list. I was very proud to be her date, even if it was by default.
The start of our dancing was a little rough but, as Robbie had predicted, we didn't take many turns around the floor before we were pretty well synchronized. We got good enough that Robbie gave up all the leading to me, and just drifted along on my arm. (I've always wondered why men are supposed to take the lead when dancing. I mean, girls are generally much better dancers. Was this a part of the often-mentioned "battle of the sexes" that the females lost?)
Between dances, we drank punch and mingled with the other couples. They were all our friends, so I didn't expect any obvious signs of sympathy for Robbie not being with the one she really wanted to be with, or any acknowledgment of my martyrdom for escorting my "almost" sister, when I could have brought a date of my own choosing. In fact, everybody treated us as if we were exactly where we should be, with the exact person we should be with.
Once, when we went outside for a little "air," I happened to glance over into a shadowy corner, where Matt and Katie were sharing a kiss. Clearly, it was a non-sister type effort. Some 16 year old boys (like me) are slow getting started on the boy-girl carousel, but once we commit, our imagination has no trouble leaping ahead into uncharted waters. Their kiss got me thinking about how much I would like to be involved in a similar pastime. My imagination had no problem identifying who I would like to be with when involved in such an exercise.
When we left the dance, Matt dropped off Robbie and me at her house, and drove on to take Katie home. We stood on the sidewalk for a few moments. I wanted to tell Robbie how much I had enjoyed everything, and how glad I was to have been with her. However, even in my own elation, I knew that the night hadn't been as good for her, having been with me and not Mister X. Although I felt a little hypocritical saying it, I said I was sorry that she hadn't been there with the one she really wanted to be with.
We were standing fairly close, and she reached out so that both her arms were on my shoulders. "Who said I wasn't?" she whispered, at the same moment placing her lips very firmly over mine. Without another word, she skipped up her stairs, and disappeared into her house. I stood alone on the pavement for a few minutes before walking home. I was befuddled. (I thought I had been overusing the word "confused," although I generally was.) Almost everything had disappeared from my head. The only thing I was sure of was that the brief meeting of lips had not been a "sister kiss."
***
I had a pretty good sleep, but only after an hour or so of thinking, guessing, hoping, puzzling, wishing, etc. In the morning, I looked at everything like I would a big jigsaw puzzle, and finally concluded that I was probably "getting it." I suddenly wanted to get over to Robbie's as quickly as I could, so I drank some orange juice, ate a slice of toast, and rushed down the street.
Robbie was by herself at the table, halfway through a delicious-looking waffle, slathered with butter and soaked in maple syrup. She didn't look up as I came up beside her.
I gave her a quick survey. "You look nice," I said, and meant it.
She still didn't look up, as she put another piece of waffle in her mouth. "Oh, sure. Dirty hair, baggy sweatshirt, jeans that probably have a hole or to in them - hopefully, not in embarrassing places - my lips slathered in syrup.."
"You look nice," I said, again. I had a passing thought of helping her with the syrup on her lips, but the timing didn't seem right.
She finally glanced up at me, and smiled. "Thanks. So, what are you doing here so early? I thought you'd still be in your bed, sawing logs."
"I don't snore, and I've been up quite some time. I need to talk to you."
"So, talk," she said, as she cut another piece of waffle.
She was exasperating. "I would like your full attention, and maybe someplace a little more private."
I think I finally had her attention, but she still wasn't ready. "Well, we could go to my room, and then my mother could act as scandalized as your mother acted when we went to your room."
I wasn't sure I knew what she was talking about, but being alone with her in her room didn't seem like the best place for me to give my speech. "Why don't we go for a walk, or go over to the park?"
"Okay," she said, as she ate the next to last piece of waffle."
"Can we go now?" I asked, impatiently.
She looked up at me. "Jimmy, I am not going to abandon this last piece of waffle. Go get my jacket from the hall, and I'll be ready when you get back."
They had pegs in the hall where they hung their coats. I knew right where hers would be, got it, and brought it back to the table. She was dabbing her lips with a napkin, presumably removing the last of the maple syrup. What a waste, I thought.
I finally got her out of the house, after she called to anyone who might be listening, "Jimmy and I are going out for a bit." There was no answer. We walked down to the park, and found a bench a little off the regular paths.
"Okay, James Waterbury, what's so important that you had to almost interrupt my breakfast?" I was pretty sure she was a lot more interested than she sounded, but she wasn't going to make this easy.
"Okay, I'll start back earlier this year. I saw you and Matt together a lot, and I wondered if you might have become his girlfriend."
"Why in the world would you think that?"
"Well, all of our friends seemed to be pairing up, and although it obviously wasn't unusual for you to be with Matt, you seemed to be having a lot of private conversations, and a couple of times I saw him put his arm over your shoulder."
She was watching me pretty closely. "So, what about it? Were you jealous?"
That surprised me. "No, why in the world would I be jealous?"
She shook her head. "Just a thought I had. Go on with your story."
"Okay. Well, Matt explained to me that there wasn't anything like that going on. He was just being your 'big brother,' because you had something you needed to talk about with somebody. I guess I wondered why you didn't pick me to talk to, since we talk about everything, but I decided maybe it was because he was a little older, and might be more help. Anyway, I guess to try and help me understand , he told me about 'sister kisses.'"
That got her interested. "Sister kisses? What are they?"
"I'm not sure I understood it all, but Matt gave an example about one of the guys who'd gone on a date. When it was coming to the end, he was hoping and expecting an extra-special 'good night' kiss, one with a little extra excitement in it. What he got was just kind of a peck on the lips, and that was it. When somebody asked him about it, he said it had been like kissing his sister."
She waited for more. "And?" she prompted.
"Well, what I think he was trying to say is that there are two kinds of kisses. One is the big romantic kiss that you might share with your boyfriend or girlfriend. The other is the friendly smooch or peck you might give your grandma or your sister - nice, but no romance in it. Matt explained that, if you and he were to kiss, it would be like the last kind - no romance, just him 'kissing his sister'."
"Which is what it would be," she agreed.
"Yeah, I got that part, and it made me feel a lot better. But then he told me what it was you were talking about, and I got all upset, again."
"Why? What did he say?"
"Well, he wouldn't tell me a lot, because it was private. But, in general, he said that you had a boy you were good friends with, but that you wanted to be his girlfriend, and he didn't seem to get that, at all. In that way, Matt said, you thought the boy was as dumb as a rock."
Robbie laughed. "I guess I did say that. It wasn't very nice of me, but I guess it is sort of true."
"Well, I asked Matt who your dumb friend was, but he wouldn't tell me. He said that, even though everybody knew what was going on, it was still your secret. You could tell me if you wanted, but he couldn't tell me something that you told him in private. Then, he said I could easily figure it out for myself, if I just opened my eyes. That really frustrated me."
"Were you jealous?"
"Robbie, why do you keep asking me that? Why would I be jealous?"
"Well, I don't know, but why would you be so upset about me and Matt, or about me wanting a boyfriend? There has to be a reason."
I tried to ignore that, and just get on with my story, but I couldn't . "Was I jealous, Robbie? Is that what this is all about?"
She shook her head. "I can't tell you that, Jimmy, but you asked the question. Why would you be jealous? What's your answer?"
I didn't think I had an answer, but then I was pretty sure I did. "I have been jealous, Robbie, and I think it's because I'm been wanting to be your boyfriend, and wondering why I'm not."
She gave me a good smile. "Okay. Is there more you want to tell me?" I went on.
"I wasn't having any luck finding out who Mister X, your 'dumb like a rock' friend was, and that continued to bother me. Then, you asked me to be your date for the prom, and I was in a real fix. I didn't know if I was supposed to know about Mister X but, since I did, I thought I should be sad for you that - for some reason - you weren't going to be at the prom with him. Instead, I was amazingly happy that you were going to be with me. I felt like a traitor, or something"
"You should. That doesn't seem like a nice way to treat your best friend."
"I know, and even before I knew what I know now, I couldn't bring myself to be sad for you and Mister X."
She caught on one thing I said. "What do you know now that you didn't know then?"
"I'll get to that. Let me finish my time line. So, as traitorously happy as I was to be going to the prom with you, I was worried that it might be a little difficult. Friends might find it hard to see you there without the person they knew you really wanted to be with. Maybe they would have felt bad for me, too, having to be with you when I could have had a real date. As it turned out, neither was true. Everybody just treated us as if we were exactly who we should be with. I couldn't believe it, but I was really glad for both our sakes.
"Okay, we're suddenly standing in front of your house. I am feeling higher than a kite after our evening together, but I'm also feeling a little ashamed that I don't feel bad about you and Mister X. I start to say something - very insincere! - about how I'm sorry you couldn't be at the prom with the one you really wanted to be with. You interrupted me with a kiss - not a 'sister kiss,' by the way! - and said something that I took to mean that you had been with who you wanted to be with. That would have meant that you wanted to be with me."
Robbie didn't comment on my last remark, but she asked if I was sure it wasn't a "sister kiss." "I'm positive," I said, positively. "It wasn't very long, but I'm sure I got the right message." She started to say something else, but I cut her off. "I'm almost done, Robbie. Let me finish my narrative." She did.
"I was still pretty confused when I got home last night, but I thought I was beginning to understand things. Then, this morning, the last pieces of my puzzle fell into place. Matt wouldn't tell me who Mister X was, but he said it would all become clear if I just kept my eyes out for a boy who was around you all the time. I did keep watch, but I never saw anybody around you regularly, but me. This morning, it suddenly dawned on me what that must mean - that I was the dumb as a rock Mister X!"
I waited for some response from Robbie, but there wasn't any, immediately. I fell back on my alternate ending, that I hoped I wouldn't have to use."
"Robbie, I know this is all just guessing and speculation on my part. If I've come up with the wrong answer, I apologize. I especially apologize for not caring more about your feelings and happiness than my own. I'll never be able to think of you as anyone but my best friend, but I'll try to be friendly - at least, civil - to Mister X, whoever he turns out to be.
"Still, I don't think I'm wrong. It all seems to fit, now. I hope I'm right. I really, really hope I'm right!"
Robbie reached out, and took my hand in hers. "You're not wrong, Mister X, but you don't qualify as 'dumb as a rock,' anymore."
We just sat and sort of stared at each other for quite some time. I finally said what was uppermost in my mind. "There's something I'd really like to do now, Robbie, if it's okay with you."
"What do you have in mind?"
"I think it would be nice to complete our kiss from last night."
She looked a little uncertain, but interested. "Does it need completing and, if so, how do you complete a last night's kiss?"
"Last night's kiss was very nice - extremely nice! - but you were a little rushed. I think you might have something to add that would be interesting. Also, I didn't have a chance to participate, at all. I'm not very wise in the art of kissing communication - last night's having been my very first exposure to it - but I think, given the chance, I might have some things to add that would impress you."
She slid across the bench until she was quite close to me. "Let's see what we can come up with," she said.
A little bit later, I was able to succinctly express my opinion of the proceedings. "Wow!"
***
Our Senior year didn't start much differently for Robbie and me than previous ones. Everybody had seen us together since kindergarten, so there wasn't much new to comment on. Some of our friends undoubtedly noticed that we held hands a lot, something new for us. If we went missing for a few minutes, they probably guessed that we had found a quiet place to share a quick "non-sister kiss." Other than that, things seemed pretty much the same.
One big difference was the loss of Matt from our long-term threesome. Dad had helped him get an apprenticeship to learn auto repair, and he seemed to be doing well. It seemed logical that Katie should take his place in our daily adventures, and that worked out well for us all. Matt's job wasn't too far from home, so he joined us almost every weekend. We made a good foursome.
We didn't spend much time talking about the future. We had plenty going on most of the time. One thing we did need to consider was what happened immediately after graduation. Katie was waiting on Matt, to see how things worked out there. Robbie thought she might eventually want to go to college, but she thought she'd like to explore the local business scene first. Her idea was to work as a volunteer in a number of different local businesses, and maybe some government offices, just to see what kids of things she found she liked. That left me to plan something.
I was glad for the general training in auto maintenance and repair I got from Das and Matt, but I didn't see it as a career for me. I thought I'd like to go to college, but didn't know what I wanted to study. I loved to read, and did some writing for fun, but couldn't imagine a career in either. My main interests in school were in chemistry, physics, and math (not the really hard advanced stuff). When I talked to Robbie's father about it, he noted that those were good things to be interested in if I wanted to go into his field, pharmacy. It did sound interesting, and I gladly accepted a little tutoring from Mr. Burke on what the occupation involved. He had a little workshop/laboratory at home, and he showed how he made up medicines, prepared prescriptions, and such. By graduation, I had decided that I would at least start my college career with pharmacy in mind.
Senior Prom approached, with no worries for me about Mister X interfering. Matt had made sure to be available as Katie's date, and on prom night the four of us piled into Matt's work-in-progress older car. Matt and I were both in tuxes, and looked manly and elegant. I can't even begin to describe the girls. The previous year, I had been positive that Robbie was by far the prettiest girl at the prom. I was even more sure of it this year (with Katie a close second, of course). No matter, really. There were enough pretty girls and handsome men to satisfy anyone's interest and preference.
It was an unforgettable evening, and I think Robbie and I danced every dance. Afterward, Matt and Katie let us off in front of Robbie's house, where we sat on the front steps for some time. Finally, we shared what I'm sure was the most amazing kiss every shared by two humans in the history of the World. I went home to a satisfied, and much more peaceful, night than I had the previous year.
Graduation was almost an anticlimax. Matt had been there for Katie, and afterward, the four of us stood together in front of the school while our classmates and parents milled around us. The three of us had joined Matt in suddenly no longer being school children. We were adults-in-progress, and ready to get started.
***
Senior prom and graduation occurred a long time ago. Since then, Robbie and I have accomplished marriage, college, careers, various adventures, a little sadness with the passing of family members and friends, and the conceiving and raising of kids of our own. (How did that happen?) With kids came family adventures and memories, new boyfriends and girlfriends, more proms, more graduations, etc., etc. etc. All in all, it's been a very happy life.
We're not old yet, but we definitely have to admit to "middle age." Even so, we find we still enjoy some of the simple pleasures of our youth, one of these pleasures being kissing. We never get tired of it, and never let a day go by without at least one - and often, a number - of those memories of past happy times. A lot of them are more or less standard kisses - I don't mean boring, or "sisterly," or undeserving of attention, because we always put the maximum energy and feeling into each one. I'm just thinking of some that stand out as especially noteworthy. Several involved maple syrup. (I think some of those were actually planned ahead, in memory of previous ones of that sort.), and I remember one or two in which strawberry jam was the additive. It is extremely difficult to beat a strawberry jam kiss, but I think I have to opt for the chocolate version. It can be a little bit of gooey chocolate left on lips, or maybe flecks of chocolate residue left from a candy bar. Whatever the source, the process of helping cleaning up your lover's lips, combined with the lingering aroma of the chocolate itself, is enough to upset one's equilibrium for a bit. Also, it's wise not to schedule anything for an hour or so after a chocolate kiss, because there can be repercussions’ that last for some time.
No matter how many times Robbie and I kiss, my mind always says "Wow!" Sometimes, I say it out loud.
***
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