Can't Stop the Girl

"Want it slow?" he asked, already humping tentatively.

"Yes, nice and slow to start," she gushed, gazing up into his dark eyes again. "So glad you left the light on."

"Why?"

"So hot to see everything so well!"

"That's another one I haven't heard before," Reggie grunted. But he appeared to agree with her, as he bent down and suckled her breasts one by one, hard and fleetingly as he flailed away down below, but it felt great all the same. He kept at it until Annie came again, once again leaving him no doubt about it, and he looked up from her breasts to admire her face. "Oh, that's beautiful," he said.

"It feels beautiful too!" she said as she opened her eyes. "Now you!"

"Mind if I go really hard?" he said, already picking up the pace.

"Yeah!" Annie found the request utterly endearing, but she was too wound up to say so, and lay back to admire and enjoy his intense thrusting for another minute or so. As he stopped deep inside her and shut his eyes, she threw her arms around him and pulled him down in a joyful plop atop her.

"Oh, Annie, thanks..."

"Merry Christmas, Reggie!" She kissed his cheek and, as he began to pull out, she clamped her legs shut around him and said "Mmm-mm, not yet!"

"Well, if you insist," he said with the grin that had always melted her heart before.

"Just stay a little longer, okay?" She caressed his hair gently. "I'll have to leave soon enough, no need to rush things."

"Speakin' of which," Reggie said, "My folks probably won't be much longer."

"God, this feels more like high school all the time!" Annie couldn't help laughing. "I love it, I really do."

"Me too," Reggie admitted. He propped himself up on his elbows and gave her breasts another round of gentle massaging that filled the lull in conversation nicely for a couple of minutes, until the peace was shattered by the sound of the front door opening downstairs. "Aw, hell!" he snapped, and this time Annie didn't try to stop him as he climbed off her and out of bed.

"Reggie, you up there?" came Rhonda's voice from downstairs.

"Yeah, Mom!" he called back, and he hurried on his clothes as Annie stumbled out of bed after him. He held up a finger for Annie to be quiet and wait, and slipped out into the hallway.

Annie tried in vain to signal for him to stay in the room -- what if his parents noticed that just-had-sex smell on him? -- and gathered most of her clothes up off the floor. They'd left her skirt and panties on the radiator to dry off, and they were still slightly damp but warm as she put them on. Once she had herself together, Annie ducked behind Reggie's bed and waited. She could hear him chatting with his parents but couldn't make out anything they said -- just as well, as that meant they were apparently nowhere near his room.

Five long minutes later, Reggie came back in and shut the door quietly behind him. "Coast is clear," he said. "They're in their room getting ready for bed. If you go out through the kitchen to the back door, they can't hear anyone come or go there."

"I can guess how you know that!" Annie said with a grateful smile. "We can catch up tomorrow at the committee meeting, huh?"

"Yeah. Hurry!" But he threw his arms around her for a final long kiss all the same, which she returned just as passionately.

With her boots tucked underneath her arm, Annie tiptoed out into the hallway, her eyes glued to the door at the end of the hall with the sliver of light underneath, ready to dive into the nearest doorway if it should open. It didn't, but Annie did hear Rhonda prattling as intensely as ever. "Shoulda called those boys on the carpet myself, Jerry," she was saying.

"Mrs. Hickman knows how to handle them, you know that," Jerry said. "I wouldn't have wanted to be in their shoes for nothing tonight!"

"Yeah, but it won't stop Trisha mouthing off about it," Rhonda said. "And here she was already just giddy about the toys getting stolen -- 'Shows what you get bringing trouble into town'," she mimicked. "And now this."

Annie nearly laughed, remembering just in time that she had to stay quiet as a mouse. Trisha Cottam, one of Mrs. Goldstein's bridge partners, was no doubt the one who had inspired the comment about the Baptists being involved. Annie had heard Mrs. Goldstein grouse about her dozens of times, all about how she meant well when she promised Mrs. Goldstein she didn't hate her people at all, she just felt sorry for them for not accepting Jesus Christ as their savior and you know what happens to people who don't! Heaven only knew why Mrs. Goldstein put up with her at all -- Annie's best guess was that she found her morbidly amusing -- but although Annie hadn't met her herself, the stories painted a picture of someone who would oppose a multicultural holiday anything badly enough to...steal a van load of toys?

Maybe not, Annie admitted as she let herself out the back door, struggling not to laugh at the thought of a septuagenarian woman jimmying open a van door. But maybe she and Reggie were right about Tommy and Paul and just wrong about which old lady had enlisted them?

As Annie drove back to her bedsit, the ubiquitous Christmas songs on the radio got on her nerves. Here it was nearly a week since the thefts and she'd had more fun in the sack than she'd had in ages, but she was still going to bed alone every night, and where were the toys? She had little doubt she and Reggie would both sleep well tonight with the memory of their lovely encounter, but it almost felt like a consolation prize. She snapped off the radio and drove in angsty silence for most of the way.

For the first time Annie could recall offhand, Mrs. Goldstein had turned the television off and gone to bed before she arrived home. For that she was grateful, as she didn't feel like fielding any questions about where she'd been, even if she knew Mrs. Goldstein wouldn't really care. She didn't turn the lights on in her room as she didn't want to bother with even her own Christmas cheer just now, instead changing into her nightgown in the dark.

It was nearly midnight and she'd have to be at work at nine, but she was feeling much too wound up to sleep just yet. A memory bubbled up of her father letting her play with his short-wave radio one night she couldn't sleep when she was a little girl, one of the few pleasant memories she had of him. Inspired, she collected her laptop off her desk and got under the covers with it, and googled a radio station back home that she had fond memories of listening to in high school. It would be after midnight there -- just maybe they'd have something more interesting than Christmas songs to play for the night owls.

To her relief, the "listen now" link brought forth a blues song she didn't recognize, and Annie set the computer on her bedside table to drift off to the mellow music and the late-night news from the familiar neighborhoods she was so glad to have escaped from.

In the morning, the traffic report from back home gave Annie a horrible moment of thinking she was back there until the room came into focus, and her Christmas cheer began to trickle back as she realized she was safe and sound in Park Meadows...and receded just as quickly when she remembered the committee meeting coming up in the evening with no good news. Still feeling exhausted, she toyed with calling in sick for the second time that week, but cooler heads prevailed.

"Folks, the show must go on!" Rhonda proclaimed twelve hours later at the meeting. "I'm just as crushed as everyone, but whoever did this, we'll only be giving them what they want if we quit!"

"That doesn't mean it's not the right thing to do," Sullivan argued, to no one's surprise.

"It's the exact opposite of what we ought to do," Annie said. "It'd be letting the bad guys win!"

"My thoughts exactly," Rhonda said.

"Maybe now we can make it more about the way they celebrate the holidays than about patronizing them with presents," Karen added. "I'd have preferred it that way anyhow."

"Who are you to say what they'd have preferred?" snapped Mrs. Reed from the other side of the room, where she had already shushed poor Daryle a time or two that Annie had noticed. Probably more than that, since she was being careful not to eye him or Reggie too closely in their mothers' presence.

"Do you think they expect us to care about that, any more than they care about how we celebrate Christmas?" Sullivan said.

"That's just why we ought to show them we care about it!" Karen shot back. "The toys were too much like a panacea anyway!"

"This whole thing is a panacea, if you ask me," Sullivan whined.

"We never would've guessed," Pamela Reed said.

"Well, I don't recall you being crazy about this either, Mrs. Reed," Sullivan said.

"Not to the point I was happy about what happened!" she replied, glaring at Sullivan and Karen in turn.

"How about-" Daryle started.

"Quiet, you!" his mother snapped, pointing at him like an errant dog.

"Quiet, everybody!" Rhonda echoed, banging her gavel on the podium. "Now, listen up. Mandy has some ideas for what to do instead with the pageant, and I'm going to ask that you all give her your full attention!"

Rhonda took a seat beside Reggie, who gave Annie a knowing wink and a smile, which Annie couldn't help responding to in kind, and Mandy stepped up to the podium. "First of all," she said, "Let me say Tony and I are really sorry this happened."

A chorus of sympathetic "No!"s ensued.

"No one here blames you, Mandy," Rhonda said. "It was the thief's fault, and God have mercy on him if we ever find out who he was."

"But it is a good example of why we don't want to invite people like that to our neighborhood," Sullivan added matter-of-factly. "If we've already got people brazen enough to break into a van in the owner's driveway."

"It was parked on the street, you racist asshole!" Karen interrupted. "And do you always blame the victim?"

"That's enough!" Rhonda snapped, jumping up from her seat. "If the two of you can't keep it civil, why don't you both get lost?"

"With pleasure," Sullivan said. "I don't see how I can add anything if I can't stop it from happening at all."

Rhonda gave Karen a brusque look, but Karen stayed put. "I won't apologize for calling a racist a racist, Rhonda. You of all people..."

"Don't you pull that on me, Karen. I told you before, even a jerk like Sullivan has a right to make an ass of himself if that's what he wants to do."

"Well, I won't call him a racist again now that he's gone," Karen said. "But honestly, hasn't it occurred to anyone that he might be the thief?"

"Yes, and he isn't," Annie proclaimed, giving Karen a smug look.

"Exactly how do you know that, Annie?" Karen demanded.

"None of your business, and I think Mandy had the floor." Annie turned to Mandy. "Sorry."

"Thank you, Annie," Mandy said. "And thanks, everyone, for your kind words. It's been a roller coaster of a week for Tony and me, every time the phone rings we hope it's the cops and they've found the toys..." She paused and gulped back a sob in her voice. "But it isn't." A deep breath, and she continued. "In any event. We're both very touched that you all want to go on with the show, and we're both all in. I've called the community center and explained what happened, and they're very interested in pressing on with it as well. The woman there told me, 'believe me, these kids understand when things go wrong.' So I propose we just add a few more songs and maybe a game or two to the schedule."

A chorus of "Seconded!" rang out, and an energetic brainstorming session ensued. Slowly but surely, the mood turned into something approaching holiday cheer. Annie marveled at how quickly the animosity had dissipated, and she mused that maybe they all just needed an evening of singing and playing with new friends. But she didn't give up on her vow to keep trying to find out what had happened.

The discussion was so energetic that Annie didn't notice at first when Mrs. Goldstein appeared. "Sorry for interrupting," she said when Tony, who was standing at the whiteboard, looked over his shoulder to see her there. "And for being late. The bus schedules changed, apparently."

"Mrs. Goldstein!" Annie jumped up. "I invited her to join us for the pageant, and maybe organize a Hanukkah event."

"Good thing Sully isn't here for that," Pamela Reed said.

"Sully?" Mrs. Goldstein asked no one in particular.

"Never mind, ma'am," Rhonda said. "Welcome to the committee. I'm glad Annie invited you. We want to have all faiths represented at the pageant, and I'm afraid none of us know much about Judaism except for the dreidel song."

Mrs. Goldstein laughed at the joke, but that didn't stop Karen from piping up. "You know, Rhonda, Hanukkah isn't really that important, and the dreidel song is a form of cultural appropriation."

Mrs. Goldstein turned to Karen. "Oh, are you Jewish?"

"No, but I'm also not a bigot," Karen grumbled.

"Well, thank you for your concern," Mrs. Goldstein said. Then she turned back to face the whole room. "She's right, Hanukkah isn't Christmas and it's not nearly as important to us as Christmas is to you."

"Which is why some of us don't want to insult you by -" Karen piped up again.

"Karen, please!" Rhonda snapped. "Sorry, Mrs. Goldstein."

"Thank you." Mrs. Goldstein didn't even look at Karen this time. "The truth is, that's all the more reason why we want more people to know what Hanukkah does stand for. You see, it represents the Jews' unwillingness to give up on their faith, after the Greco-Syrians tried to force us to. We fought back, and against all odds we won."

"Is that what the word comes from?" asked Reggie. "The festival of lights? The light of victory?"

"No," said Mrs. Goldstein. "We call Hanukkah 'the festival of lights', but the word really means 'dedication'. When the Holy Temple in Jerusalem was rededicated after our victory, the leader of the rebellion called for it to be cleansed and a new altar built, because the old one had had pigs sacrificed on it. Now, to complete the cleansing, the Talmud -- that's the central text of Jewish law -- called for burning kosher olive oil in the temple, day and night. They only found enough oil to burn for one day, but it lasted eight days, which was long enough to prepare a supply of more kosher oil. That's why there are eight days of Hanukkah."

After a moment's silence and no questions, she continued. "Of course, I think the kids would find it a lot more fun just to spin a dreidel and keep whatever spills out."

Annie joined in the ensuing laughter. She couldn't resist a look at Karen, and wasn't surprised to see she wasn't laughing.

"Thanks so much for coming!" Annie said to her landlady some time later when the meeting had adjourned.

"Yes!" added Mandy Barker. "You can see how we can use some help with the holiday pageant, especially after what happened."

"Good for you all for not giving up!" Mrs. Goldstein said. "Annie's told me all about it. Such an awful shame."

"She's been the most encouraging of all to not give up," came Rhonda's voice, and Annie turned to see her standing just behind her. She flushed with delicious embarrassment to see Reggie was with his mother, and they exchanged knowing grins. "Annie," she continued, "I'm sorry I didn't get to say good night to you last night at our meeting. I hope you enjoyed it."

"Oh, I did, Rhonda," Annie said -- she just couldn't look at Reggie as she said it, but she was sure he was struggling to keep a straight face just like she was. "I learned a lot."

"Is that what you were there for?" Rhonda asked. "You're really getting into the spirit of learning about everyone else's faith, aren't you?"

"It's been educational," Annie said.

"I've told Reggie here, he really should have invited you over for a nightcap after the meeting," Rhonda said.

"Oh, that's perfectly fine, Rhonda. We had a very nice time together."

"Yes, well, we'd certainly like to have you over one of these evenings. For one thing, I think Reggie could use some advice on surviving college from someone who's been there more recently than Jerry and I have. Isn't that right, Reggie?"

"I'd love that, Annie," he said, and Annie had to give him credit for his remarkable poker face. Or did Rhonda know everything?

She couldn't shake the worry, but she kept that to herself as she thanked Rhonda and they kissed each other goodnight on the cheek.

As Rhonda and Reggie headed for the exit, Annie turned back to see Pamela Reed had joined their circle and was taking her turn to apologize to Mrs. Goldstein. "I do hope this wasn't all too politically correct for you," she was saying. "I've been lobbying all along to just stick to a generic 'happy holidays' theme, none of this aggressive trying too hard to understand everyone else's business!"

"Not at all," Mrs. Goldstein said. "Annie told me all about what you're after here, and I think it's wonderful!"

"It's not what I'm after," Pamela said. "Like I was telling everyone last week, I don't see color, I don't see religion, I see human beings, period."

"I wish I had that luxury," Mrs. Goldstein said, and Annie couldn't suppress a triumphant smile. That smile vanished promptly when Mrs. Goldstein noticed Daryle standing just behind his mother. "Well, hello!" she said. "Is this your son? You're a friend of Annie's, aren't you?"

"Oh, good heavens," Pamela said before Annie could hope for any damage control. "You haven't been bothering poor Annie at home, have you?"

"He wasn't bothering me at all, Mrs. Reed," Annie said. "I told him after the toys got stolen, if he wanted someone to talk to vent to, he was welcome to come see me."

"Someone to vent to?" Pamela turned to scowl at her son. "What do you need to vent to anyone about? You didn't lose your Christmas. Yet."

"Mom, c'mon," Daryle said, but Annie was quite sure he was feeling more relieved than angry.

Pamela clucked and turned back to Mrs. Goldstein and Mandy with a wry smile. "We're raising all our kids to be such bleeding hearts, aren't we? Annie, I hope he was no trouble, in any event. I'm going away for the weekend with Michael and he'll be home alone. If he turns up whining about how he needs a hug or something, you have my full permission to tell him to grow up already!"

Annie's face lit up, and she couldn't resist giving Daryle a look that she hoped his mother would construe as agreeing with her. "I'll keep that in mind, Pamela," she said. "But I was actually planning to ask Daryle if he wanted to meet up tomorrow afternoon and practice some of our songs for the pageant."

"I'd love to," Daryle said. "I'm working the lunch shift tomorrow at Woody's, but maybe three o'clock or so?"

"Perfect," Annie said.

"Wonderful," Pam said. "Just remember to act your age and treat Annie like the guest she is, understood? She's not just one of your buddies, she's an adult woman."

"Of course I understand, Mom." Annie had no idea how Daryle kept a straight face as he said it, but he did.

"I should hope so."

"I'm sorry, Annie," Mrs. Goldstein said as soon as they were alone in Annie's car for the drive home. "I didn't realize we didn't want Daryle's mother knowing you two are friends."

"Oh, that doesn't matter," Annie said. "She's like that all the time. That's the real reason why Daryle came to see me, not because of the toys."

"I'm glad he has you to talk to about that," Mrs. Goldstein said. "Have you called your mother lately, by the way?"

"Thanks, and no," Annie said. "I'm not sure if I'm going to, to tell you the truth. She was always an absolute terror this time of year."

She fully expected the older woman to tell her she ought to call her mother anyway. But she didn't. Instead she asked, "Do you know why she was like that, Annie?"