Risky Business

Phyllis Baxter clutched the steering wheel grimly as her ancient Vauxhall Nova shuddered and jerked its way up Joe Moelsely's winding drive. It was past time to consign it to the scrap yard, and yet she couldn't seem to let it go. It had been her gran's car, bought new in 1987, and given to her when she left uni. She'd managed to baby it up to this point, and suspected the only thing holding it together was the expertise of her friend, Tom Branson, and her pride.

"C'mon…c'mon….just a little further. You can coast on the way out," she encouraged the motor. Joe's house was just in view when it gave an apologetic cough and shook to a violent halt. Phyllis winced as she could hear the transmission actually hit the gravel surface of the drive.

With a heavy sigh, she shut down the whinging engine and sat for five minutes, stroking the steering wheel.

"At least I'm early to meet Joe," she muttered, glancing at his house. She could vaguely hear music from the open windows and grinned as she caught the last strains of "Papa Don't Preach," and shook her head. Joe's fixation on 80's pop music was a never ending source of amusement.

She walked the remaining distance to Joe's front door, looking back at the sad, little heap of her car on occasion, wondering what she was going to do until she could get a new car. She knocked absently on the door, then went ahead in, sure that Joe couldn't hear her over the music.

As she stood in the middle of the sitting room, the opening notes of "Old Time Rock and Roll" banged out of his player and she watched in shocked amazement as he slid across the doorway between the sitting room and kitchen, wearing nothing but a button down shirt, his undershorts, sunglasses and a pair of socks. Her mouth dropped as he began singing in his off key tenor.

"Just take those old records off the shelf," he warbled, beginning to dance awkwardly. "I sit and listen to them by myself…"

Not quite by yourself, Joe.

She was successful in holding in a peal of laughter until he began to gyrate his hips. That took the biscuit.

"I don't remember giving permission for a party, Joe!" she shouted over the music.

He spun frantically towards her and his shriek of surprise was very nearly lyrical.

"Ph-…Ph-…Ph-…" he stuttered in shock.

"Let me help you with that, Joe," she said between snorts of near hysterical laughter. "It's PHYLLIS."

Joe stood with his mouth open as Bob Seger continued to sing at top volume. His face had gone puce with embarrassment.

Phyllis tried to contain her laughter at his expression, but lost it again when the sunglasses, dislodged by his spin, dropped off the end of his nose and hit his heaving chest on the way to the floor. Her legs felt wobbly and she had to sit down.

"You're…early," he managed to choke out. Suddenly realizing how loud the music was, he stumbled over to his iPod dock and pounded his fist on it savagely until it silenced. Then he cast a wary eye at Phyllis, who was sitting on his sofa, trying to stop the cascade of giggles that poured out of her every time she remembered the way he danced.

"I know…" she replied breathlessly, "and I'm sorry." She resolutely refused to look him in the eye, or she knew she'd never stop laughing. "My car's been acting up, so I wanted to give myself plenty of time."

"Your car's been acting up since I've known you," he said, completely oblivious to the fact that he was standing in his undershorts, trying to have a casual conversation.

Phyllis stared fixedly at the floor as he moved past her field of vision. "Yeah, well…I'm afraid its acted up for the final time. It died completely in your drive." He sat down in the armchair opposite from her. She kept her eyes on his socks. "I'll have to get Tom to tow it off."

"I'm sorry, Phyllis" he said sincerely. "I know that car was special to you."

She risked a look at his face, taking in his earnest eyes and thinning, short brown hair. "I suppose I drove it long past the time it should have been retired."

"Will you get a new car, do you think?"

"I'll have to, won't I? But I'm not sure how I can afford it…" she trailed off and grimaced. "And I'd really rather not have this conversation while you're sitting across from me in your shorts."

Joe blushed violently again and leapt to his feet.

"S…so…sorry," he stammered. "I didn't mean… I'm not trying…."

"Go put some pants on, Joe," she interrupted with a grin.

He hurried off towards his bedroom, almost scampering. She followed his retreat with her eyes, noting that, however silly the whole episode might have been, he didn't look half bad in nothing but a shirt and his shorts. Shaking her head, she settled in to wait, figuring that it might be a while before he regained his composure.

It didn't take as long as she'd thought it would. He emerged in a pair of slacks and, mercifully, a different button down shirt, looking put together as if he'd not been jamming half dressed to the oldies not twenty minutes before. She looked him up and down, making him flush under her scrutiny.

"I…um…thought it might be a good idea to get a different shirt," he muttered.

"I agree," she said, tamping down on the giggles that threatened to erupt again. She couldn't contain the sparkle in her eyes though.

He cleared his throat. "I suppose we'll be taking my car down to the pub, then?"

"Either that or walk," she replied.

He nodded stiffly and fiddled with his cuffs. Phyllis found herself trying to keep from snickering while at the same time sympathizing with his obvious discomfort.

"Um…about that whole thing…" he began hesitantly. "Do you think you might, er…not mention…"She took pity on his painful awkwardness.

"Would it help if I told you you're cute in your undershorts?" she replied with a smile, making no promises.

"Not really, no," he muttered, flushing red again. "But…um…thanks."

"Well, they'll be waiting for us. We'd better get a move on."

He ushered her out the door and they walked side by side to his car. As she got into the passenger side, he leaned down by the window.

"So…we'll not speak of this again?"

"I'll keep mum, Joe," she assured him. "But I doubt I will ever forget about it."

"Neither will I," he replied, trying a tentative grin. "It's not everyday I get told I look cute in my undershorts."

"You're joking me! That's really when you fell in love with me?"

Phyllis laughed and snuggled closer under Joe's arm. "I can pinpoint the exact moment," she teased. "It was when you flew past the doorway, shaking your hips, and started singing."

"Oh God, please don't remind me," he replied with a laugh, hugging her to him. "I had fallen in love with you months before that incident, and I'd never been so embarrassed in all my life!"

"It was absolutely priceless, Joe. After watching that, either I fell I love with you, or I couldn't look you in the eye without giggling like a idiot."

"If I'd known that all I needed to do to make you fall in love with me was behave like a total wanker, I'd have made a fool of myself earlier…"

"Or, you could have just told me how you felt."

"I didn't have the courage for that then," he admitted. "I barely have the courage for it now."

Phyllis reached behind his neck and pulled his face closer to hers.

"Love is a risky business, and you still look cute in your undershorts," she murmured before kissing him thoroughly.