I watched from my bedroom window as my neighbor across the street was picked up by her scumbag boyfriend. I’ve been in lust from afar with Jody since the first day I moved into my house on Summit Avenue.

Three years earlier, in the spring of 1974, I left the comfort and ease of my parents’ home at the ripe old age of twenty. My job with ABC Plumbing was going well and I earned my journeyman status with the union.

I had managed to escape the last draft in ‘73 and with President Ford’s actions, wasn’t worried another draft by the time I was ready to move. I was excited to enter adulthood with a running start and the job my uncle got me as a plumber was working out great.

I watched Jody get in the asshole’s ‘69 Mustang and wondered why she lowered herself to date such a loser. He looked like a reject from an Easy Rider casting call. The long hair and shaggy beard were scruffy at best and sloppy most of the time. He looked like he smelled terrible, but I never got close enough to find out.

Jody, on the other hand, was the epitome of class. She moved gracefully in her tight hip-hugger jeans and jean jacket. She had a bandana holding her red curls in a loose ponytail, and her platform soled sandals added a few inches to her tall frame.

For a moment, I thought she glanced at me, but that could’ve just been that I was directly in front of her line of sight. She had always been rude to me, and we had no lengthy conversations as a result.

I hadn’t done anything wrong; it was that I was a plumber and by her words, “Plumbers smell like shit.” She shook her head and walked away after she said that. I had no idea where that came from, but she said it with such a sneer, I didn’t bother to allow how hot she was to cloud my judgment. She was persona non grata. I mostly avoided her, but living across the street from each other, we’d see each other cutting grass or leaving for work. Neither of us bothered to give a wave of greeting.

I put on a Led Zeppelin ¾ sleeve t-shirt and grabbed my keys. I was going to the Kiss concert at Chicago Stadium with my buddy Chris, and thankfully it hadn’t snowed like the weatherman predicted. It was a mild day for January, and traffic wouldn’t be bad going into the city from the suburbs where I lived, and I was glad.

I pulled up in front of Chris’s parents’ house and honked the horn of my work van. I was able to use it all the time and I didn’t have a normal car beside it. The bosses were cool, and I saved the money I would’ve needed for a car and put it into my house. Free advertising, they called it and that was fine by me. “What’s up, man?” He asked as he jumped into the passenger seat.

“Same shit, different day, man. Got my ten bucks?” I answered.

“This is gonna be a great show, man,” he shouted and banged his hands on my dashboard for emphasis. “Kiss is on fire; I can’t believe we got tickets. I heard the stage actually goes up in flames!”

I laughed as he handed me the money, “My brother saw them in South Bend in September. He said they rocked but didn’t mention the stage being on fire.”

“It’s a totally new show dude!” He shrieked. “The new album came out since then, it’s a whole new tour.”

“Okay, man. I’ll buy you a beer if the stage is on fire.”

“Deal!” he said and slapped my hand.

I pointed, “Check the bag on the floor, I bought the Destroyer 8-track. Pop it in.”

When the opening blast of chords from Detroit Rock City blared through the tinny speakers, we banged our heads along and did so until we got to the stadium.

We were early, so we popped a couple of the Stroh’s I’d brought along and waited to get in line.

We were freezing in the line to get in when Chris asked, “Where are the seats?”

I smiled and handed him his ticket.

“Whoa! How did you score fifth row, man?”

“My cousin Jimmy works for the promoter. I didn’t even have to pay for ‘em. I guess he owed my dad some money and dad called it square with these.”

“Fuckin’ sweet, man!” He suddenly frowned, “What did you make me give you the ten bucks for then?”

“You owed me ten bucks, dummy.”

He shook his head, “Okay, jerk, but I don’t have that much for beers.”

I laughed and said, “Yeah, I figured. I’ve got a few bucks.”

“Yeah, my ten!” We laughed and then when the line started moving, we cheered along with the rest of the people and made our way into the stadium chanting, “Kiss, Kiss, Kiss.”

The last chords of Black Diamond rang out along with almost deafening flash bangs and finally, the Starchild shouted, “Good night, Chicago! We love you!”

The crowd erupted and we made our way towards the exits.

“Holy Shit, man! That was awesome,” Chris shouted. The people around us high-fived him as a chant for Kiss started again.

“Look there!” I shouted over the crowd and music playing. “I want to get a t-shirt.”

He nodded and we made our way to the short line for the souvenir stand. I couldn’t believe it when I saw Jody a couple people in front of us with her boyfriend. I had no idea that she would like rock music. I realized it was probably the asshole, but then that was proven wrong.

The asshole shouted, “No way! I wasted enough money seeing this shitty band and I’m not spending a dime to get you a fucking t-shirt.” He dragged her away from the stand and she was embarrassed further when she saw me in line behind her. She looked shocked, then sad.

Surprisingly, I felt badly for her. From our first and only conversation, I knew she had a decent job with a bank and was good for the money. She must have left her purse in the car or something. When I got to the counter, I saw the shirt she wanted was still on the counter, so I bought it. I figured she would appreciate the effort and maybe she wouldn’t think of me as just a shitty plumber anymore.

The next day, I walked across the frigid street and rang her doorbell. She opened the door and sharply asked, “What?”

I shook my head and dropped the bag on her porch. Silently, I turned and walked home. I heard her call out, “Wait!” but I ignored her.

“Fuck that bitch,” I thought as I closed my front door. I looked out my front window and saw her standing on her porch looking at the shirt, then she looked, curiously, at my house. I didn’t know if she could see me looking out my window or not, but I didn’t care. I walked into the kitchen to make some coffee and breakfast.

Ten minutes later, there was a knock at my door. I knew who it was and didn’t want to deal with her bullshit, so I ignored her and went to my basement. My neighborhood was mostly ranch and raised ranch houses, built in the post war boom of the fifties. Most of the single level ranches didn’t have basements, but my house had a full basement that was half finished and half utility area. It was fantastic because with all of the mechanicals being in the basement, I had a large laundry room and pantry on the first floor, where others had to deal with their furnace, water heater, etc ... on the main living level. I never bothered to find out why mine was different, I just knew I loved it.

I had a pool table, wet bar, and a bathroom in the basement and when I added a top-of-the-line Pioneer Stereo System with Graphyx SP speakers, it became my escape from the world. You have no idea what music sounds like until you hear it through a proper setup. Several years later my mind was blown again when I set up a surround sound big screen TV and audio system, but that’s for a different story.

I dropped the Rock and Roll Over record and plopped onto my couch.

As the Starchild sung the opening lines to ‘I Want You,’ “In the morning I raise my head...” I looked at the ceiling waiting for the bombastic chords to hit. Seconds later, he shouted, “I want you!” and I was in my zone.

I thought nothing in the world could interrupt me when I zoned out to music. Whether it was Kiss or something mellow like Bread, I immersed myself in the sounds and got lost in the lyrics. But then I heard, “You shouldn’t leave your door unlocked.”

My eyes snapped open, and I jumped from the couch. I watched Jody walk to the receiver and turn the volume down to normal level, before I spoke, “Why are you in my house?”

It was a dumb question. I knew why she was there.

“I wanted to apologize and thank you for the shirt.”

“Accepted. You can go now.”

She shook her head and sat on my couch. “John, I know I’ve been a bit of a bitch to you, and I’m sorry.”

I laughed, “A bit of a bitch? The first time we spoke you told me plumbers smelled like shit. You weren’t a bitch. No, you have a toxic personality. You look down on people for no reason other than their employment? Shit! I probably make more money than you.”

“John, I...”

“No, Jody. I don’t want to hear it. I have no desire to listen to anything from your mouth. I can’t believe I felt sorry for you last night when that asshole loser of yours dragged you from the t-shirt booth. You two deserve each other. Now, please leave.”

“I am sorry, John. Everything you said was right and while what I have isn’t exactly an excuse, my past has created that toxic personality you mentioned.”

She walked up the stairs and stopped at the top.

“I’ll leave this on the table. Thank you, for thinking enough of me to buy it.”

I turned off the stereo and heard the front door close, so I walked up to the kitchen. Next to my uneaten eggs and cup of coffee was a ten-dollar bill.

The following week brought a snowstorm. Not a blizzard, but we had received ten inches over the course of a Saturday morning. I looked out my front window and was shocked by the amount of snow. I wondered if the snowblower my dad gave me as a housewarming gift would be able to manage it.

As I was dreading heading out into the frozen tundra of my long driveway, I bundled up in my heavy coat, thick gloves, and waterproof boots. I had one of those outside thermometers that looked like a round clock hung on my garage and saw it was a balmy fifteen degrees. I’m sure it was lower than that with the wind chill, but I trudged out.

My driveway went along the side of my house, from the street in front to the garage in back. It was a straight line, but it was long. Thankfully the snowblower cut through well enough that it wasn’t a completely miserable experience, and I finished the driveway in short order.

After finishing the sidewalks in front of my house I saw Jody trying to shovel her driveway by herself with a garden spade, wearing a jean jacket and gloves that were more for their looks than warmth.

I thought, “Jesus! She’s gonna freeze to death.” She looked beautiful with her hair blowing in the wind though. It was a shame she was a bitch.

I walked my snowblower across the street to her driveway and saw that she was shivering and crying by her garage. Her house was the same set up as mine with the long driveway, so I couldn’t get to her quickly, but she saw me moving towards her with the blower, wiped her face, and waved.

I ignored her when I got to the end and turned around to continue the task. I noticed she frowned and went into the house when she saw I wasn’t going to engage with her.

I finished her walkways and sidewalks and headed back across the street. My next-door neighbor, Ms. Griffin, was an older lady whose husband died a few years earlier. I helped her with the hard stuff, like cutting her grass and clearing her snow. She didn’t have a long driveway, so it was much faster and easier. When I finished, she handed me a Styrofoam cup full of hot chocolate and thanked me. I saw Jody watching us from her front porch, then disappear into her house. I shrugged it off.

As I put the blower away, I felt someone’s presence behind me. “Thank you, John.”

I sighed, “You’re more stupid than you look. You could’ve died in this weather.”

“I didn’t want the snow to get too hard to shovel and I couldn’t get my car out of the garage.”

“Why didn’t you call your asshole boyfriend for help? Why didn’t you call your father, brother, anyone?”

I turned and saw tears falling down her cheek.

“I told you I had some issues in my past, and well—let’s just say that because of those issues I have no family to call. I also broke up with the asshole, as you call him, the night of the concert. Dragging me out of the concert was the final straw. I won’t be abused anymore.”

As soon as she said that she turned and ran home. I watched as she was almost hit by a car she wasn’t watching for and until she closed her front door. I shook my head and finished putting away the snow blower before going back to the warmth of my home. It was clear to me that she had deeper issues than I thought. I wondered why all the pretty ones were a hot mess.

I didn’t see her for the rest of the winter.

It was a cool April day, when I finally caught a glimpse of her as I raked the last bit of leaves that the melting snow uncovered. I wasn’t thrilled about the late season snow, but that’s Midwest life for you.

I didn’t have any trees in front of my house and felt that my neighbors should take care of the ones on my lawn, but I knew that would be a losing battle. Ms. Griffin certainly wasn’t going to be raking anything and Dan Johnson on the other side of my house didn’t rake his own leaves. His yard looked like a nature preserve with wild grass and weeds everywhere.

I looked up and saw her watching me from her window. I wondered if she did that often but shook the thought off and continued raking the muddy leaves. She looked sad, and I couldn’t shake her out of my mind completely. I stole glances at her until she left the window.

I sat on my porch stairs as I took a long pull off the beer that waited patiently for me to finish raking. Pleased with the look of my lawn, I looked across the street and noticed Jody had come out to rake her leaves. She had a large Ash tree in her front yard and had a fair number of leaves sprayed across her lawn.

I laughed as she tried to use a steel garden rake on the muddy lawn. It dug in and made it almost impossible to rake leaves in wet conditions. The rake impaled the leaves and she had to constantly pull them off to clear the tines. I cringed at the amount of grass she pulled up.

She looked at me in frustration and stormed across the street. The fierce look in her eye said it all and before she could do anything I tossed her my triangle-shaped leaf rake. She caught it and spun around without saying a word. I laughed and went in to get another beer.

When I returned outside, she had half her front yard done. We didn’t have yard waste pick up in our small suburb. We lit bonfires with yard refuse in our back yard. I had a large garbage can that I used to bring the front leaves to the back, but I noticed she was going to use a wheelbarrow. I couldn’t believe I never noticed she had none of the right tools for any of her jobs. I wondered what she did in the prior years and couldn’t remember.

I watched her get frustrated as the wind blew the leaves out of the shallow cart and sighed when she looked at me desperately. I never wanted a woman as much as I wanted her at that moment. I was going to ignore her, but I couldn’t leave the damsel in distress.

I walked across the street and ignored her as I walked to her garage. I stopped when I saw a shed at the back end of her lot.

She saw me looking at it and said, “Most of my stuff is in there. I lost the key in the fall and can’t get my shovels or rakes or other stuff I need,”

“You’ve got to be shittin’ me?” I asked as I spun and walked back to my work van where I had bolt-cutters.

I shook my head as I walked past her through her yard to her shed. The lock cut easily, and I pulled it off and opened the doors. I saw a lawn mower, snow blower, snow shovels, rakes, a chain saw, and any other yard tools I could imagine she needed.

I pulled out the yard waste can she had in there and carried it to the front yard, where I dropped it without breaking stride as I headed home. I couldn’t believe that she was stupid enough to not cut the lock or at least call a locksmith to do it for her. She was actually going to shovel her driveway with a spade. It was unreal.

The air got colder, and I was looking forward to the fire I was going to start. Many times, I’d have some friends over for a party around the fire, but I was on my own that night. I grabbed a pack of hot dogs, some straightened wire hangers and all the items needed for my version of smores and headed out back. To my surprise Jody was there with her can of wet leaves and a six pack of Schlitt’s.

“I’m not burning the leaves from today,” I said as I walked past her to my garage. I got a folding lawn chair and set it in front of my pit.

“Oh? I thought you always burn after you rake.” She looked so damn cute, I wanted to scream in frustration. Why was she such a bitch?

“They’re too wet. I suppose it may be possible to burn ‘em today, but I’ll let ‘em dry out ‘til next week.”

I grabbed some twigs and logs from my pile and set up for lighting. It wasn’t long before the fire was strong, and I was putting a hot dog on a hanger. I looked up and saw her watching expectedly. The last time I saw eyes that big were in Bambi.

“There’s more chairs in the garage,” I sighed. The last thing I wanted to do was let her join me, but she looked so sad. I thought it would have been cruel to send her away. She did bring beer. And did I say she was a fox?

She came back, dropped the chair, and handed me one of the beers.

“Thank you for your help. I seem to be needing you for a lot.”

I shrugged my shoulders and pulled the tab on the beer. I was saving the pull tabs. I was running a string full of them along my basement wall to which my friends were more than willing to sacrifice their young livers and contribute to the project.

“John, I’m really sorry for the way I acted towards you when we met, and I’d like to explain if you’d give me the chance?”

I handed her a hanger and hot dog. “I’m listening.”

“Well, there’s no beating around the bush. John, I was raped by my step-father.”

I didn’t expect that.

“Uh, I’m sorry,” was all I could mutter.

“It started as soon as I turned eighteen. It went from leering looks, to innocent touches, to him pounding away on me in the middle of the night. My mom did nothing, she lived in complete fear of him. So much so, she didn’t bat an eye when I moved in with my grandparents. They lived in the house across the street from you.”

I nodded along and took a bite of my dog.

“My grandfather died the year before you moved in, and my grandma moved into a nursing home shortly after. Her mind went quickly, and she passed away last year.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“They left me the house in their will, so I stayed. I know you’re wondering what this has to do with how I treated you.” That was true. “My step-father is a plumber. Every time I saw your van, it reminded me of him. Oh! He doesn’t work for your company.”

“Good,” I said as I loaded a marshmallow onto my empty hanger. “Well, I’m not a rapist and I’ve never done anything to you.”

“I know,” she sighed. “You’ve been doing wonderful things for me, even after the way I treated you when we met. I can’t apologize enough.”

She looked at me disgustedly and asked, “What are you doing?”

I smooshed a Reese’s peanut butter cup onto the marshmallow instead of a Hershey’s bar.

“It’s better this way.”

She looked down and realized I didn’t have any normal chocolate bars.

“I don’t know, maybe I’ll try one.”

I handed her the one I made, and she took a bite. Her eyes lit up and her lips curled in a smile.

“Wow!” she moaned. “I can’t believe I’ve never tried this before.”

I shrugged and made another.

Conversation was light after that. We talked mostly about our respective work until she mentioned the Kiss concert.

“I was surprised to see you at the Kiss show. You don’t look the type that likes them,” she said.

“And you do, I suppose?” I answered sharply. Granted, I had short hair and didn’t give off the rocker vibe, but she was the picture of conformists. In the eighties she’d have been called a yuppie.

“Touché,” she answered. “How did you get into them?”

I smiled and debated whether I should tell her, “I don’t know,” I finally said. “I guess I heard ‘Nothing to Lose’ and liked it enough to buy their first album.”

She laughed, “Of course you’d like the song about anal sex.”

I shrugged my shoulders, “How about you?”

“I thought the album cover was cool. Four faces in makeup, offering no clue as to the kind of music they made. I figured it was worth a shot and I loved it.”

“The asshole didn’t like them, huh?” I asked.

“No, he’s a Led Zeppelin guy. No one is as good as his blessed Zep.” She frowned then and looked away.

“I’m sorry, Jody. I didn’t mean to bring up a sore subject.”

She forced a smile and handed me another beer. “It’s okay. He thought he could push me around and I would just take it. I won’t take shit from a man again.”

I nodded and handed her another smore.

“John, are you dating anyone?”

I almost choked on my sip of Schlitt’s.

“Uh, no.”

“Would you let me take you to dinner tomorrow to complete my apology?”

“Are you asking me out on a date, mama?” I asked smoothly with a smirk. She was a fox and if I could get past her being a bitch, I would love to get inside her bell bottoms.

She straightened up in her chair and pulled back her shoulders, before saying, “Yep.”

She smiled, and I said, “Sure, but are you sure you’ll be okay with me being a plumber?”

“Yeah. I know you’re nothing like my bastard stepdad. I’m fine with it.”

I offered up my beer for a toast. “To a fresh start.”

She tapped my beer with hers in a toast, and asked, “Could I have another smore?” I laughed and put a marshmallow on a hanger for her.

“You’ll have to come over more often so I can teach you how to make a proper smore.”

She smiled. I loved that smile.

She rang my doorbell the next night and I was shocked at the sight of her. She was stunning. Her curly hair was hanging down and she had on a sexy dress that showed off her shapely figure.

“You’re amazing,” I said, meaning to say she looked amazing.

She laughed and said, “Play your cards right, buster, and you might find that out.”

She walked in past me and asked, “Are you ready?”

“Yeah,” I said, “let me get my keys.”

“Oh, no, buster. You’re not taking me out to dinner in that work van. I’ll drive.”

I laughed and said, “Okay, but are you sure you just don’t want to be embarrassed being seen in a plumber’s van?”

“John,” she said with a serious glare, “you being a plumber is not embarrassing for me. Don’t ever think that. My issue with you being a plumber was related to my step-father, not the job, we talked about that.”

“Okay. I was only kidding,” I said as I grabbed my burgundy sport coat. It was corduroy and had elbow patches. I thought it was a snazzy look.

“Where are we going to dinner?” I asked.

“House of Hughes,” she said. I was excited about that. It was a nice steakhouse where I’d never been.

I got a pleasant view of her legs as she drove, and I tried to not get caught checking her out. With her past issues, I didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable. I was excited and nervous about the date. I knew we started off on the wrong foot, but she was apologetic for that, and since we made nice, I enjoyed the time we spent together. And I did say she was a fox, right?

“John,” she asked as we pulled into the parking lot, “you’re not going to go all caveman on me and try to pay for this are you?”

I smiled, “Nope. I’m all up on women’s lib. You can even open your own doors and pull out your own chair.”

She slapped my shoulder playfully, and smiled, “Oh, no, big guy. You have to be a gentleman. Chivalry is not dead.”

I was surprised when she took my hand in hers as we walked to the restaurant. She seemed to be comfortable with me, so I wasn’t going to do anything to mess that up. I gladly accepted her hand and smiled at her to acknowledge it.