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” I stood up and went to the closet. I grabbed my coat and pulled it on. “I’ll see you guys around.” I was out the door before they could protest. Mom ran out of the house after me, in her robe and slippers, but I just waved good-bye and took off. I found a Denny’s that was open on York Road in Timonium and had breakfast there. When I got home, I found the message light on the answering machine lit but didn’t bother. Another call came through, and it was my mother pleading for me to call, but I ignored it and unplugged the phone.In 1971 answering machines were primitive. In the future, in the digital computer age, voice mail and answering machines would become commonplace, but that was twenty or more years from now. In those days, an answering machine was a small tape recorder, and you had to wind through your messages. I had a very bland greeting on mine, simply stating we weren’t home, so leave us a message. In case Jeana’s parents ever called, they would think it was my parent’s. Her skin was smooth and firm — lightly muscled, befitting her sex and size — and her round little bottom was the cutest thing I'd seen in years. Her perky breasts were smaller than mine, little mounds of perfection with pretty pink nipples. I wanted to hug her.As we dried off, glancing at each other, she asked, "Can I sleep with you tonight?"A few of my male thoughts surfaced for a second or two and then I said, "Okay." She was my child, looking to me for comfort, and she trusted me. I didn't dare abuse that trust.Panties and T-shirts were the uniform of the evening, and we sat on the couch, nibbling popcorn and watching TV for an hour or so before heading for my bedroom. She wanted the inside next to the wall, and we lay down and I turned off the light. She cuddled close, putting her arm on my stomach, and I put an arm on her shoulder. Her warm breath on my nipple made it crinkle up and tingle for a bit, but then she moved away a few inches. Her breathing slowed, she mumbled "I love.
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