To Angela's house.

Julie held Smith in her arms, like a light, warm bag, and with one hand opened the back door of her black SUV. She pulled the driver’s seat back, sat down herself, Smith on her **legs** – right on her right thigh, his back to Julie’s chest, his legs dangling between the pedals.

“Ready, little one? Half an hour to **Angela’s** house!”

Smith tried to move, but Julie had one arm around his waist, the other fastening the seatbelt around both of them. “Safety, Auntie Joni!”

The engine started, a happy 90s pop song blasted from the speakers. Julie drove with one hand, the other holding Smith on her legs, sometimes tracing lines on his stomach with her finger, sometimes a quick tickle under his armpit.

“Julie… I can sit in the back…”

“No! Auntie’s kids sit on her legs!”

The Montana forest road, the soft curves, the thin snow on the side of the road, the tall pine trees. Every time the car jolted, Smith would jump up and down on Julie’s legs, Julie would swing her legs with laughter, as if she were rocking a car.

A half-hour drive, with Julie’s occasional kisses on Smith’s neck, Julie’s loud singing along to the tune, and her free hand occasionally running over Smith’s thigh.

Finally, a **large wooden villa** with a yard full of colorful lanterns. Julie parked the car, picked up Smith, and carried him out of the car like a light doll.

“**Angela’s** house! "Your aunt's friend!"

Angela, 35, yoga instructor, 175 cm, short blonde hair, tight purple yoga pants, stood in the doorway, big smile.

"Wow, Julie! Is this **little Smith**?"

Julie held Smith in her arms, with a wink: "Yes! Ready for **in his aunt's arms**!"