Calamity Jayne Goes to College by Kathleen Bacus Read Free Book Online Page A

coronary care here. I wanted to make certain both the timing and the man were right
     for longer than a roll or two in the hay, regardless of how rock-my-world glorious the rolls might be.
    "Hey, Kimmie!" I greeted my sister-in-law, an extremely pretty girl with dark blond hair and brown eyes. Kimmie always looks
     so fresh and energetic. Her makeup is always just-so (except when my brother is being an insensitive dorf-wad and she cries
     and her mascara runs) and she has the best fashion sense of anyone I know, which I totally envy. I can't wear a pair of socks
     the same color.
    I stopped at her counter and leaned my elbows on the varnished wood. "How's it going? Any news from the baby beat?" I asked.
    Kimmie had been trying to convince my brother, Craig, that he was ready for fatherhood. So far, with minimal success. The
     two had been married for going on four years now and Kimmie wanted a baby. Craig still wanted to sit in a straw-covered boat
     and take potshots at Daffy Duck and crawl on his belly in a cold, wet cornfield to carry out sneak attacks on goosey, goosey
     gander. And all, I might add, with the undermining assistance of a certain "fishy and foul" officer.
    "Your brother is slowly coming around," she said with a glint in her eyes and a set to her mouth I hadn't seen before.
    I raised an eyebrow. "I'm intrigued. Please explain."
    "Well, let's just say I decided that a period of abstinence might give us both some clarity on the situation," she said.
    Both my eyebrows were elevated, along with my interest. "Abstinence? Isn't sex not only recommended for conception but kind
     of, like, required?" I asked.
    "It is. But unlike some of those conniving women you see on daytime TV, I'm not about to get myself pregnant and then hope
     the daft fellow comes around. So I'm planning to give him a little shove in the right direction."
    I wrinkled my brow. "By withholding sex?"
    "Just temporarily. I'm calling it a cooling-off period. You know, time to reassess our priorities, set common life goals,
     and establish a timetable for meeting same."
    I scratched my forehead. "Priorities. Goals. Timetables. You make it sound like a business plan," I observed.
    "It is a business plan," Kimmie maintained. "Serious business. It's a plan for a lifetime."
    "But where does that leave romance? Passion?"
    She stared at me. "Have you met your brother? His idea of setting the mood is cutting his toenails and trimming his nose hair.
     After which, I'm expected to be ready and waiting and panting to have him."
    I made a face. By comparison, Mrs. Doubtfire's "Brace Yourself, Effie" was a real turn-on.
    "Do you think this is the best way to handle Craig?" I asked. "He's kind of stubborn. He can dig his heels in pretty deep,"
     I said, thinking that was one thing my brother and I had in common.
    "So can I," Kimmie said with a tilt to her chin that left me in no doubt that she'd ride this particular pony to the end.
     To her, the stakes were that high.
    I sighed. It looked like Craig and I had one more thing besides mule-headedness in common. And, while I wanted to be an aunt
     almost as much as I wanted to be skinny, debt-free, and able to groom my hair without breaking comb teeth off right and left,
     we sex camels had to stick together.
    I said good-bye to Kimmie, telling her I'd see her the following evening at Kari's bachelorette party. With my being maid
     of honor, it fell to me to plan the event. Which meant, of course, that absolutely nothing had been done. I was hoping Kari
     would be content to tip back a few with several girlfriends and maybe dance a final two-step with a cute cowboy at my favorite
     country-western hangout in Des Moines. (Okay, I hear you city girls going "Eeeww!" Tell me you didn't think the cowboys in Brokeback Mountain were hunka-riffic. Okay, so apparently they were also gay, but I betcha they knew how to show you a good time on the dance
     floor. And sometimes, that's all a girl wants. Isn't that so, ladies? I