By Sharon Flitterman-King
I remember Bob Van Grove, my eighth grade boyfriend. I remember going to his house, his mother and sister playing cards, cigarette smoke in the air, his mother’s asthma not doing well in the smoke-filled room. Still they all were friendly, warm, and welcoming.
And then there were the baseball games, the Los Angeles Dodgers in Dodger Stadium. We went and enjoyed the game—had hot dogs and soda, then popcorn and ice cream.
Bob was a sweetheart. He treated me like a princess. I still remember the first gift he got me—a beautiful raw silk shirt, a bright autumn gold.
He and his best friend Jerry went to I Magnin, a fancy department store in LA, and had the salesgirl help them out.
And then there were the nights at Bobby’s house. We’d be in his bedroom with the door open, TV on, and kissing and hugging. He was my first love, and it was yummy and warm. I am eternally grateful for that.
Sharon Flitterman-King, PhD, grew up in Los Angeles, and earned her doctorate in English from the University of California at Berkeley. She is a writer and painter from Hillsdale, New York. This is one of her many paintings.