LOVE HATE WHISKEY

Chapter 33, Ernest’s Competition About halfway on their trip, they stopped to eat their lunch by a sandy bend that brought the road close to the water's shore. It was a lovely spot for a picnic. When they got out of the car, Hugette got in the back seat. "Put these baskets in the front," she commanded, taking a bottle out of her basket. "Come on, sit in here and have a little hooch." Patting the seat beside her with a gloved hand, she beckoned to him from the shadows of the car. Obediently, he put the picnic baskets on the front seat and joined her in the back. She uncorked the bottle and took a big swig, passing it to him. He didn't like to drink that way, but this was a special day, so he tilted the bottle back and let the fiery liquid go down his throat. "This isn't my brother's," he commented, "This is rotgut." "Got it in Windsor," she replied, drinking more. "This stuff will kill you." "Maybe, if boredom doesn't do it first. But, hey, don't be a flat tire! Let's enjoy ourselves, okay?" She grabbed his left hand and slid it up her thigh to the hot center between her legs. She had nothing but a garter belt underneath—a jolt shot through Ernest. She kicked off her shoes and rolled down her stockings in a minute. She invited him to run his hands along her soft belly and into her privates. The fittings of her garter belt hung loosely against her legs. She undid his pants, unbuttoned her skirt, and deftly removed it, leaned back, and pulled him into her. Afterwards, they sat by a tree, listening to the waves lap the shore. While she ate voraciously, he picked at his food and reached over to nibble at the odd berry. 'She must love me,' he thought as they packed up and continued their journey. After picking up the part he needed and a spare, just in case he should burn another piston, they drove past the boarding house where she lived. A sign above the door read, "Mrs. Ingram's Home for Professional Women." "I can't invite you in," she said, sinking low on the seat so no one would see her. "That's okay," he responded, uncertain why it bothered her so much. She showed him the school where she taught. It was closed for the holidays now, but she kept down in the vehicle so no one could see her. Finally, she brought him to her favourite place, a movie theatre. They watched "Tender Hour" with Billie Dove and Ben Lyon. As the stars kissed, she once again grabbed his hand. He sat straight up, wondering what she would do in the dark. She only held on, though, like a little child frightened of being alone. Then they went to a dance hall, where she taught him the Black Bottom and the Turkey Trot. Between dances, they went outside and drank hooch from a bottle she hid in her purse. When she did the Shimmy, he thought he would die of excitement. Never, in all his life, had he met a woman like Hugette. It was past midnight when they started back toward the village. Along the way, she sang bits of her favourite tunes, 'Bye Bye Blackbird,' 'Ain't We Got Fun,' 'I'm Looking Over a Four-Leaf Clover,' and 'Look for the Silver Lining.' Then, as they came to the sandy bend, she urged him to stop. She got on her hands and knees in the backseat and raised her skirt. He pulled her back toward him. It was ecstasy. She dropped him off at his house at about three am. Everyone except Liesse was asleep. Noting the rumple of his clothes, the jaunty slant of his cap and that he was walking on sea legs, she asked in a motherly tone, "You had a good time?" "The greatest, "he said, grinning, "And you're the greatest sister." 'I wonder if she's drunk too,' Liesse silently asked. 'God, I am getting old; why should I care?' she remonstrated within. Then, to her brother, she said, "You took your time. You had a few drinks." "Hey Liesse," he said, as though he had heard some of her thoughts, "You are getting old; no, not old, stale in this corner of the world. So, you've got to learn some dances, Turkey Trot and Shimmy...Maybe not Shimmy, but the Black Bottom and lots of others. There's fun stuff in this world. You need some of it to keep young, hell, alive." "Shh!" she responded, "Don't swear." "I meant 'heck'!" he said. "What the heck? I need to go to bed." The next day, he finished his work as quickly as possible, washed, dressed up and then gathered a few flowers from Emma's prize roses. He cut the thorns, wrapped the stems in ribbon, and carried them to the Charbonnet home. He knocked at the door and Mme. Charbonnet answered. "May I speak to Hugette?" Ernest asked, his voice full of expectation. "She's not here," her mother said. "Not here?" He thought for a moment that she was lying. "Her fiancé Hank picked her up this morning to take her back to the city." "Her fiancé?" "Yes, they are going to get married in two years." "But she'll lose her job as a teacher." Ernest whined. "I know," Mrs. Charbonnet sighed. "That's why they've postponed the wedding...so she can teach longer." "But" Ernest continued in disbelief, "Her contract says she cannot even date a man!" "We just pretend he is her cousin," Mrs. Charbonnet explained. She noticed the roses. "Oh, didn't you know? I'm surprised she didn't tell you about him. You won't let out her secret, will you? She does want to teach for as long as she can." "I won't tell anyone; you can be sure of that!" Ernest bitterly replied, handing her the roses. "Keep these, Madame. I brought them to thank you for your hospitality the other night." "I'll tell Hugette you were here." "Oh, don't bother," Ernest replied, falsely chipper.