Pants.
Monday January 5, 2009
“You want to put on some pants?” says Katie.
“I can’t,” says Joey Rose, putting down the curling iron. She tilts her head, admiring the effect in the mirror. “And you have to take yours off. It’s No-Pants Day.”
“Since when is it No-Pants Day?” says Katie.
“Since I said so, Katiebelle,” says Joey Rose. “Hell, Mom and Dad are gone till Monday. I might make it No-Pants Weekend.” She steps over to Katie there in the bathroom doorway and tugs on the drawstrings of Katie’s pyjama pants.
“So what’s the deal with No-Pants Day?” says Katie, stroking Joey Rose’s belly through the flaps of her open shirt.
“What’s it sound like?” says Joey Rose. She kisses Katie’s mouth and unties her drawstrings. “Nobody in this house can wear any pants on No-Pants Day. No pants, no trousers, no shorts, no underwear, no pyjamas.”
“No boxers,” says Katie, as her pyjama pants slump down her legs. “No briefs. No panties. No boyshorts.”
“No string bikinis,” says Joey Rose, kneeling before Katie, who’s holding up the hem of her baggy T-shirt so Joey Rose can see the little scrap of black lace there at the top of her thighs, the thin black spaghetti straps arcing over either hip. “No thongs.” She reaches up to pull them down.
“Not even a skirt?” says Katie, her fingers tangling in the loose warm curls on Joey Rose’s head. “Or a dress? A baggy shirt even?”
“Sure, I guess,” says Joey Rose. “If you wanted to be a pussy about it.”
Katie takes in a sudden sharp breath. “Oh, God,” she moans, “Joey, Christ, keep doing that—”