The Sisters of Glass Ferry. Kim Michele Richardson

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      “Stop now, Hollis; that’s enough. You need to take me home.” Every second that she lingered here with him half draped over her could get worse, or better, or . . .

      He looked at her breasts, and on down at her legs as if he hadn’t heard a single word. “You know I’m crazy about you. Just have yourself another small nip, Patsy. Let’s have us a bit of fun, same as ol’ Danny boy.”

      Danny. Revenge stoked inside her.

      Hollis gently forced the cool metal flask into her hand, lightly tapped her button nose. “Come on. Take my batwing. Just one more drink, and I swear on a stack of Bibles if you still want to go, I’ll see you right home, or wherever you want to go, doll baby. Do whatever you want.”

      She giggled at that and grabbed his wandering hand. It was true Flannery never missed baton practice and wouldn’t be home till six—nearly two hours from now. And since it was Friday, most kids would be meeting at Chubby’s after school. Mama had canasta club tonight and would be busy with that. “Okay, one more. But you promise, right?”

      He breathed against her neck, traced a small invisible X on her breast. “I told ya already. Promise.”

      She snatched up his palm, let her fingers flutter against it a few seconds before breaking away, reaching for the flask. Patsy asked him to swear again, spilling some of the booze down the front of the green-striped spring dress Mama had sewed. “Gee, Hollis, look what you made me do.” She laughed and swiped her damp breasts.

      Hollis dropped his head close to her chest.

      She nudged him away. “Give me something to dry this mess, or I’ll be in trouble.”

      Hollis clicked the button on the glove box, and the little door swung down. “In there,” he mumbled, closing in on her neck for another snuggle.