Free Loving David by Gina Hummer

venturing to the kitchen. David poked his head in first and let out a low whistle. “Oh dear. It’s like Armageddon in there. Run…Save yourself,” David joked.
    Charlotte peered around him and gasped. “Holy crap. Let’s just burn it down.”
    Greasy pots and pans and crusty dishes were stacked almost to the ceiling. Food was splattered across the walls and the floor, and it looked like the chicken may well have exploded all over the stove.
    Charlotte clamped her hand across her forehead and groaned. “I’ve never seen it this bad,” She muttered. “I mean, this is ridiculous.” Her arms dropped to her sides. “I’m not even sure where to start.”
    David took on the task of filling the sink with hot water, the bubbles from the dishwashing liquid floating up and across the room. “Oh, come on. Teamwork!” David winked. “We’ll get it done.” David started to bring dishes over to the sink as Charlotte wearily grabbed a sponge and began to scrub plates.
    “Hey,” Charlotte turned and saw David taking down an old transistor radio from atop the refrigerator. “I don’t remember the last time I saw one of these,” David said as he searched for the power button.
    Charlotte laughed. “Probably belongs to Hendra. She’s quite averse to technology. She’s one of those stubborn souls who still use typewriters.”
    “Eww.”
    “Yeah.”
    David found the knob to turn the radio on, and sound crackled out of the lone, battered speaker like crinkled paper. David frowned and fiddled with the tuner until he came across an oldies station. Martha and the Vandellas struggled to tell them about “Dancing in the Streets.” David pulled out the antenna and wound it around a few times until the sound pushed through clear as a bell.
    “Huh. That doesn’t sound half bad,” Charlotte muttered, surprised. David started to sing along, and Charlotte was impressed not only that he knew the song but also by his singing voice, which was actually pretty good.
    “Well, that’s a little before your time. So you like old songs, huh?” Charlotte asked.
    “I like classics,” David clarified as he picked up a dish to start drying it. “Like I told you, my dad gave me real appreciation for music. Good music.”
    They continued with their task, the ancient transistor radio spitting out everything from the Beach Boys to Jerry Lee Lewis to Elvis Presley, a lively soundtrack to the drudgery of scouring the kitchen. David knew the lyrics to every song and even provided her with a few bits of trivia. Before long the kitchen started to sparkle again, what with the abundance of dishes, wine, and music, they were getting a little slap-happy. “The Twist” came on and David twirled Charlotte’s hips from side to side, both in hysterics by this point. Just as they managed to settle down a bit, the unmistakable strains of “You Really Got a Hold on Me,” poured through the radio. David yanked Charlotte to him.
    “Come on! Dance with me.”
    Before she knew it, their bodies had melted into one another with ease. His breath, pungent with the tang of wine and chicken, was hot against her ear. Charlotte inhaled his scent, the sheer joy threatening to make her crumple to the floor. Sensing her near collapse, David put one arm around her waist and held her hand against his chest. They began to sway in time to the music, though the truth was the only sound Charlotte could hear was the beating of his heart. She closed her eyes and let him move her around the little kitchen.
    “You’re very tall,” Charlotte whispered.
    “And you are not,” David replied.
    They continued to move, and David was careful to lead her so that her rhythm matched his. She felt the tip of his nose burrow in her hair.
    “Strawberries,” he said.
    “Strawberries,” she responded as she ran her hands up and down the length of his arms. The soft skin she felt beneath her fingers belied the massive strength rippling under the surface. The song ended, and David