Free Spur of the Moment by Theresa Alan Page A

house without air conditioning. What’s wrong with these people in Denver?” Scott didn’t speak with a southern accent, though if you dared to say that he was from the south, or was in any way southern, smoke would come out of his ears and his head would spin around a few times. “I’m not from the south, I’m from Texas!” he’d yell, as if Texas was its own sovereign nation, which Ana suspected it might actually secretly be. He was fiercely proud of Texas. On the other hand, he’d moved from there at the first available opportunity, and Ana thought this spoke well of him.
    Scott’s walls were adorned with paintings he’d done himself. He preferred oils and his work often had a surrealist, tongue-in-cheek theme. One of Ana’s favorites was of a family of four sitting at the dinner table. A mother, a father, a little girl, and a little boy—all of whom are naked. The girl is grumpily refusing to eat. She has her elbow on the table and her chin resting in her hand, her expression is beleaguered and long-suffering. The younger brother is making a mess, and the Mom is trying to clean him up. The father is looking absently out the window at the sunset red sky.
    Scott didn’t paint as much today as he had in college, but he still had an easel in the corner for when he wanted a way to relax.
    â€œWhat are you guys doing?” It was Marin, who scuffled toward them. Scott and Ana dutifully moved over to make room for her. She lay down next to Ana.
    â€œWe are being lazy slugs, mostly,” Ana said. “I think we need a theme song for our show. We can do it to the music of the Beverly Hillbillies.”
    â€œI can’t believe it’s daytime already.” Ramiro walked into the room and took his place on the bed. “I’m so tired. I need a nap.”
    â€œYou just woke up.”
    â€œBut getting out of bed proved to be exhausting, and I need a nap to recuperate.”
    â€œWe’re thinking of a theme song for our show,” Ana said. “Hey, do we know anyone who can play the fiddle? A fiddle is really what we need. Maybe we can get the music from Deliverance.”
    â€œAre you guys having fun without me?” Jason said, joining them on the bed. It was a cozy fit, but they could do it.
    â€œWe’re coming up with the theme song for our sketch comedy show,” Ana said. “Help us.”
    â€œLet’s think of the great theme songs through the ages, and decide what qualities lead to theme-song greatness,” Jason said. “The Love Boat is clearly up there, in the top ten maybe.”
    Marin got as far as “the” before the rest of them joined in, singing The Love Boat at the top of their lungs. They proceeded to sing every theme song they knew, moving through Cheers, The Facts of Life, Greatest American Hero, and the Fresh Prince of Bel Air, among others. Amid much laughter and discussion over important matters like whether the L that Laverne always wore on her shirts really stood for “lesbian” (come on, Laverne and Shirley were just a little too close) they whiled away a very large portion of their day. Ana loved it, being wedged in with the people she loved most in the world, singing songs, laughing, and feeling absolutely loved.

9
    A Proper Date
    S unday morning, Chelsey went to Rob’s apartment, arriving at eleven A.M. exactly. He lived three blocks away from the rest of the Spur of the Moment gang in Capitol Hill, near the library. She had been to his place the other night, but they’d been far too busy tearing each other’s clothes off for her to properly inspect the place.
    This time, after he hugged her and gave her a long, sensuous kiss, she asked him to show her around.
    â€œIt’s only a one-bedroom apartment, so it’s not like there’s much to see, but I’ll give you the tour.”
    His home was sparsely decorated, but clean. She wondered if he was always