The Warwick Drive-In became the weekly Saturday night date for Tony B and Ann. Instead of stopping at the Warwick’s Drive-In’s refreshment stand, Tony B started stocking his car with treats from home, including beer, and sometimes scotch, or brandy, which came in handy on the cold winter nights, when Tony B had to keep his car running, with his heater on his heater full blast, just to keep them from freezing.
As the weeks and months went on, Tony B and Ann sat closer together in the front seat of the Caddy. Showing her the respect he deserved, Tony B limited his amorous attempts to no more than kissing and light petting. And an occasion feel up of her curvy body.
But starting around the Christmas holidays of 1960, things took a turn for the better. It started with Ann giving him an occasional hand job, because Tony B convinced her, if she didn’t relieve him in some way, he’d get a bad case of the “blue balls”, which would render him bent over in terrible pain.
One thing led to another and pretty soon it was time for the main event.
Tony B always carried a rubber in his wallet, just in case. The Saturday before Christmas, while Norman Bates, the proprietor of the Bates Motel, was going Psycho on the big screen and the temperature outside in Warwick was nearing zero degrees, Tony B and Ann, rubber in place, consummated the relationship in the back seat of the Caddy. After the deed was done, Tony B removed the soggy rubber and flung it out the passenger side window.
They watched the rest of the movie, and after Norman Bates, dressed in his mother’s clothes and a scraggly wig, tried to slice up a female guest and was thereby sent to the nuthouse, Tony B started the Caddy, left the Warwick Drive-In and headed back to Ann’s Greenwood Lake home.
He parked in her home driveway, nose of the Caddy facing in.
“Come inside” Ann said. “My parents bought you a Christmas present.”
Tony B cut the ignition and he and Ann entered the front door of the O’Reilly residence. The living room was decorated in Early American, with a huge Christmas tree, with presents under it, propped up in front the front bay window.
Ann’s mother Betty was radiant as ever. A forty-something fox, with roving eyes, especially after she had imbibed a few martinis, which was almost every night. Tony B figured, a woman with an husband like Ryan O’Reilly, had to knock down a few regularly, just not to go crazy.
“Oh Tony, so good to see you,” Betty said. She was holding an empty martini glass delicately near her right ear. “Can I get you something to drink?”
Tony and Ann sat on the couch.
“No thanks, ma’am,” Tony B said, “I have to be going in a few minutes.”
“Oh don’t be silly,” Betty said. “I was just about to refill mine. How about a small martini?”
“Could you make it a scotch, straight up, instead?” Tony B said.
“One scotch, neat, coming up.” Betty said. She turned to Ann. “Anything for you dear?”
“No mom, I’m fine,” Ann said
Betty did an unsteady about-face and disappeared into the kitchen.
Tony B and Ann sat on the couch and she snuggled her head on his shoulder.
“Mom’s a little tight,” Ann said.
“I’d be tight too, if I woke up every morning next to your father,” Tony B said.
Ann returned with two drinks and handed Tony B the scotch.
“I propose a toast,” Betty said.
She raided her glass. Tony B did the same.
“To you and my daughter,” Betty said.
“Salute’,” Tony said, and he watched in amazement as Betty downed her martini in one gigantic gulp.
Ann got up off the couch and went to the Christmas tree. She bent down, extracted a present from the bunch and handed it to Tony B.
“This is from my parents,” Ann said. “I’ll give you yours from me on Christmas day.”
Tony B was in the process of ripping off the Christmas wrapping paper, when the front door bolted open and Ryan O’Reilly burst through the front door.
He stared at Tony B with murder in his eyes.
“Come here you!” he said. “You have some explaining to do.”
Tony B stood tall. “What’s the problem?”
O’Reilly busted over, grabbed Tony B’s arm and squeezed. “Come outside and I’ll show you.”
He pushed Tony B towards the front door.
Tony B wanted to sucker punch this bastard so bad, but he took a deep breath, then headed out the front door, with O’Reilly and the two females following.
Tony B stood by the driver’s door of his Caddy. “Well, what is it?”
O’Reilly strode around the back of the Caddy to the passengers side. He motioned to Tony B with his forefinger. “Wrong side of the car. Come over here.”
Tony B obeyed, and when he saw what was making O’Reilly angry, he almost swallowed his tongue.
There it was, the spent rubber Tony B had used at the Warwick Drive-In, frozen stuck on the passenger side of the car, back panel, near the trunk.
Tony B felt sweat running down the back of his neck, even though it was near zero degrees. “I swear to God, I don’t know how it got there,”
Ann rushed around the side of the car. When she saw the rubber, she gasped and to stifle a scream, she held her right hand to her mouth. Betty followed her, but when she saw what all the commotion was about, her mouth formed a slight smile.
O’Reilly’s face had now turned beet red. Tony B knew it wasn’t from the cold.
“I’m listening,” O’Reilly said.
Tony B took a deap breath. “It must be Skinny Benny, or Richie Ratface. They live a few blocks from here. They must have followed me and planted it.”
The veins bulged in O’Reilly’s neck. “They planted a used rubber on your car? And who do you think they used the rubber on?”
Tony B forced himself to finger the frozen rubber. “This is just frozen milk on the rubber. Here, touch it. See for yourself.”
O’Reilly scrunched up his mouth, “Touch it? What are you, some kind of a nut? I’m not going to touch it.”
Betty marched up to the rubber and dipped her forefinger into the frozen goo. She put her finger to her mouth, licked it, smiled and said, “It’s milk alright. Some kind of joke to play on the holy days.”
Tony B stared indignantly at O’Reilly. “See, I told you it was milk.”
Without saying other word, Tony B got into the car, started the engine, backed out of the driveway and sped out of there, burning rubber (but not that rubber) on the icy street.
From that point on, Tony B knew he had an ally in Betty O’Reilly. And he couldn’t help but get a little hard at the thought of his girlfriend’s mother, licking his come off her forefinger so cheerfully.