Finally, it was the big day. Earth Day. The float made its way down Main Street, where thousands of people lined the sidewalks to take in the annual parade. Clowns, floats of all descriptions, flatbed trailers with environmentally conscious products aboard -- all were taking part.
In the Friends of the River float, Joe and Rebecca were in her Earth-friendly Toyota Prius, which they were using to pull the Friends float. Surrounding the car was a giant papier mache beaver, which had been constructed from environmentally-friendly products like recycled newsprint, non-toxic, recycled paint, and lumber, wire and hardware collected from a salvage yard.
Windows down to reduce air conditioning usage (Rebecca insisted), the two kept track of their parade progress during the event by looking out the front, through the beaver's head and large front teeth. Visibility was poor but, moving at a crawl along the city streets, they could see enough of the road ahead and the unit in front of them to not cause a crash.
"Wow, I can only imagine the litigation if there was a crash here during the parade," said Becky, a former corporate lawyer who had thrown her support behind Friends of the River after taking a green turn in her life. Having spent years in corporate law, she could imagine the suits and the suits they would launch. Then she reminded herself to shake off those thoughts and enjoy the day.
For his part, Joe was concentrating on his driving, not wanting to crash into anything himself over the several kilometres of slow moving ahead. Still, though, he couldn't help but steal glances at Becky beside him. Becky, she had told him, was a name she'd never have allowed him to use when she an uptight lawyer. But, she'd told him over coffee once, Becky was more who she was in the present -- more laid back, less worried about money and more about enjoying life.
Today, he couldn't help but notice, she was wearing a long, hippy-ish tie dyed skirt, a sand-coloured hemp sleeveless top and her ever-present sandals. He could tell she was braless, as she usually appeared to be, and he couldn't help but wonder if she had panties on under her skirt. With her seat back, her good looking legs were stretched out and she was gazing out the front of the beaver's mouth... intent on the crowds watching the parade. Her bottom lip between her teeth, she had a thoughtful look on her face as they drove along, arms folded under her breasts.
Through the thin material, Joe could see her nipples and he smiled. Her brunette hair was pulled back in a ponytail, which he liked, and she looked tanned all over, having just arrived back in Canada from a holiday in Mexico.
As they rolled along, with the muffled sound of marching bands heard through the beaver, Becky also stole glances at Joe. Joe was likely the most down-to-earth man she'd ever met and a guy seemingly oblivious to how hot he was, she thought, so different from the ego maniacs in her former law office. His dark hair was cut short, as was his moustache and goatee that made him look a little like a biker. He was dressed in a loose muscle shirt that showed off his toned arms and chest nicely, baggy camouflage shorts and, even better, he was driving in bare feet.
As he'd told her over free trade coffee once, when he had grumbled about having to put on sandals to enter the shop, anything you can do in bare feet rocked. At the time, a flash of the two of them in bed had entered her thoughts; and the thought intrigued her.
Looking thoughtfully through the beaver's mouth at the crowds outside, Becky reflected on how her life had changed in the past five years. Watching as the big teeth in front kept centred on the float ahead of them, she chuckled. "Ever been inside a beaver before?" she asked, as she turned to look at him.
Joe turned his head to look at her. "What?" he asked, blushing.
Seeing his blush even in the dimness of the car, she suddenly started, realizing what she'd just asked him. "Oh my God," she laughed, blushing herself. "I'm sorry, of course you've been in a beaver. I meant, have you ever driven a beaver? I mean... Oh my God, how embarrassing."
Joe laughed at her discomfort. "Relax," he said. "I think I know what you mean. If you mean have I ever been inside a car covered by a fake beaver in a parade, then the answer is no."
Her face warm, Becky laughed again. "Yes, that is what I meant. I assumed you've been in... I mean... Oh pooh, I'm going to shut up now."
Feeling like her face was glowing with embarrassment, she settled back in her seat and looked at him as he drove.
At times in the weeks previous, Joe and Becky had worked alongside, chatted, shared cups of coffee. For dozens of Friends volunteers like themselves, everything was in a rush, as organizers of Friends of the River, which had only formed a short time earlier, thought the parade was an ideal opportunity to get the group's name in front of the public. Volunteers had quickly swung into action to design and build a float which featured flora and fauna found in and along area rivers. Finding green building materials had proved a challenge and barely left them enough time to complete the float in time for the parade.
Long hours, though, resulted in everything being ready, though at the last moment someone's Smart Car had broken down and a quick substitute was needed to pull the papier mache animal-laden float. Becky immediately volunteered her Prius, another favourably green car that all agreed would be suitable.
Joe offered to bolt a hitch onto her Prius for the task and, as he worked under her car in his garage, she'd had the opportunity to thoroughly check him out. With his head under the car as he worked beneath it, she'd gazed over his muscular legs, his bare feet and his firm torso. When he'd suddenly rolled out from under the car, she knew he'd caught her staring, but she simply smiled and had enquired if the work was done.
"You bet," he said. "It's all good to go." While he'd been under her car, he'd taken the opportunity to surreptitiously check out her legs and gaze as far up as her fairly short skirt had allowed. Didn't look like there was a panty line, he'd thought, and smiled, picturing long bare legs and...
In the car, thinking back to Joe's obviously not minding the fact Becky had been checking him out while under her car, she blushed. "Umm, I'm thirsty," she said, "care for a drink?"
"Sure," he said. "What have you got?"
Squirming to get on her knees to reach into the back of the car, Becky stretched to reach for a bag she had stashed. As she moved to reach for the bag, a breast pressed against Joe's bare shoulder and he smiled at the feeling of the warm, braless breast through the thin material of her top. She remained pressed against him as she fished around in a bag, before finally pulling out a bottle of mango juice.
"There," she said, settling back in her seat. Taking the top off the bottle, she had a rather uncomfortable moment. As she had only the one bottle, should she first drink some herself... offer it to Joe first...
"Go ahead," he said with a chuckle. "I don't mind sharesies."
Becky laughed herself and sipped the thick, sweet, organic juice, enjoying the fresh flavour. "Mmmm. That is good, want some now?"
"Sure." He took the bottle from her and took a swig himself. Still peering out the front of the beaver, he drank again. Watching him, Becky noticed a drip at the side of his mouth. "Umm... you've got a drip there.
"Hey? I do?"
"Yes. It's by your mouth there."
