Cal and I may be among the last to have made out at a drive-in, such attractions long since closed. The Baxter’s where I let him get to second base on our second date, but I’d already let Steven score at almost the same slot. We’d gotten in his back seat because of the gearshift. I was afraid he’d tell his buddies, but don’t think he did.

When I finally let Cal, he thought he was my first.

Our Anne and Collin know about drive-ins; movies set in ancient times being their favorites. Their generation’s more sophisticated, partying when the parents are out. Not our two, though, but I know the average age for it is dropping.

Every summer we go to the lakes, but this year Cal decided to get there sans-Interstate. There’s so much more to see, that way. Right, Cal. So many more cornfields.

Dixon, Illinois, where we’d overnight — Cal researches these things — would have a Quality Inn where we’d earn double points. Reagan lived there, which the kids found uninteresting.

Cal’s positive he’d booked a room with a king and two singles, but all they have when we register is one with two queens. Anne says she doesn’t mind as long Collin doesn’t hog the covers, and Collin said he doesn’t mind as long as she keeps her feet off his side. They’re too old for this sort of thing, but it’s what siblings do.

The motel of course has a pool, of which — having paid for it — we take advantage. It even has a Jacuzzi, not that big, but four can fit, Anne sitting on Cal on one side, me on Collin on the other, as the kids sitting together would lead to more squabbling. Cal puts his arms around Anne to keep her balanced and Collin, the same for me. We’re family.

For Collin and me, it’s somewhat like at home, watching TV, stretched out on the sofa, his arm around me so I won’t fall off, maybe giving me a little massage. Maybe my breasts, even, and if he’s in his PJs, maybe my behind can tell that he’s excited, but it’s just being silly, is all. It does make me feel younger, though.

Cal and Anne lay on the sofa the same way. When I get sleepy, I head for bed, the two of them still glued to the show. If I return to get my book, their blanket might be moving, but, once they hear me, it stops. Just being silly, themselves.

Here in the Quality Inn Jacuzzi, realizing that Collin’s wrap may be getting too obvious, I say it’s time for dinner, and Collin hops up with me, the other two saying they’ll be another minute, them deeper under the bubbles.

Collin changes in the bathroom and I do it by his bed. Not quick enough, though, as when he comes out, I’m in my underthings, but he doesn’t seem to notice, flopping down beside me. When the other two join us — it’s much more than a minute — they, too, each change in the bathroom, but as I’m still in my underthings, Anne seems to take that to be enough, and they get on the other bed because ours is occupied. We’d not have pulled the sheets over us, except for the AC. Just taking a break before dinner, is all. And maybe Collin did, in fact, pick up on my massage, but not so the others could tell. Long day, Mom, is what he meant.

Dixon’s other-than-Reagan claim to fame is the Midway, a restored drive-in with a spaceship ticket booth. Quality Inns have HBO, of course, but we’ve got that at home. At the Midway, we’ll get popcorn and those oversized candy bars.

The kids jump on the plan when they see what’s showing. It’s with Tom Cruise and they remind me that I liked Top Gun. At the ticket booth, I remind Cal to ask about a family rate and Collin says probably not, but maybe there’s a double-date rate and we all laugh. There’s neither.

As the drive-in’s mostly empty, we can park anywhere, but Cal says we should park towards the back. I’d have thought the kids would have complained, but Collin tells us that in one movie he saw, all the cars in the back row were bouncing to Rock and Roll. Anne tells him to not be a wise ass.

Collin goes to get us popcorn and gives his sister a thumbs up when he returns, patting his pocket.

We sit the way we travel, Cal and me up front, kids in the back, and Cal explains how we used to hang a speaker in the window. This place isn’t totally restored to the original, he’s disappointed to see, as here it’s FM.

They show a clip about not turning on your lights if you have to leave early, probably what they’ve shown for 20 years. The feature’s barely started when Cal puts his arm around me.

“Look at the lovey-dovies,” Anne quips from behind us.

“Go for it, Dad,” from her brother.

“He’s just being romantic,” I shoot back, as it’s good they see their parents affectionate.

“Exactly. Smart boy, here, means go for the romance,” from Anne.

She’s correct, of course, but I think Cal’s kiss a bit overdramatized.