Summary: A bad breakup. A beach trip. Can Sophie bounce back?
Author’s Note: This is my entry in the Summer Lovin’ Story Contest 2022 so thanks for reading and rating it. It’s a slow burn romance with the heroine struggling with her past, her present and the expectations of those around her, and what she wants for herself and her future. It focuses more on emotions than sex, but there is some of that, of course, as the story progresses. It’s a rather long story, about 9 Lit pages, but I hope you’ll agree that it ties together nicely in the end.
Any feedback in the form of comments, favorites, or follows will also be greatly appreciated.
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Early June
“Mom, I broke up with him.”
I heard her sigh over the phone, as if saying “Finally!” or perhaps “What took so long?” Instead, she paused for a few beats before asking, “What happened, sweetheart?”
She didn’t come out and say it but I could also hear the words passing through her mind. Did that jackass cheat on you?
“He didn’t cheat, Mom—”
Another audible sigh, but this time it really was relief. After my big sister’s seemingly endless escapades back in the day, Mom was always concerned about “nasties.” I was quite sure he’d never cheated—fairly sure, anyway—but since he was out of the picture and I was starting fresh, I decided to be tested, just in case.
“—and you know I didn’t,” I continued, though I did have a rather romantic encounter during our short break-up last fall. “No, it’s nothing like that. It’s just, he’s been talking to somebody out in California, an agent, I think, and they got him a part in a TV show. We’ve been having problems for a while so this was a good break point….” I trailed off, not wanting to say more.
“Well that’s great!” she said, shocking me, before really surprising me again. “Maybe he’ll get out there, find out his acting sucks, and they’ll knock some sense into his thick head so he can get on with his life!”
“Mom!” I sputtered, surprising myself and showing that perhaps I was still a bit closer to him than I thought. Recovering, I added, “Well, that’s possible, I suppose, since the part’s only for a few days, but he’s planning to go out early, take some acting classes, and then stay and try to make a go of it. I wished him well but told him I wasn’t going, that this is my home, and that I’m not going to go gallivanting across the country in pursuit of his dream when all he’s going to do is pursue whatever he can get, wherever he can get it.”
Mom was silent for another moment, going, I suspected, into her reflective mode. You always have to be careful when she does that, though she tends to make good points at times. This was no exception. “Sophie, you’re my baby girl and you always will be; you were always the sweetest girl, never causing problems—”
She didn’t actually say “like Sue” but my big sister’s name was clearly implied. I’ll never be sure but I suspected they breathed a sigh of relief when Bill, probably the only one of her boyfriends they ever liked (at least a little bit), knocked her up and they got married, thereby putting an end to her antics.
“—and your Daddy and I always appreciated that, sweetheart, really appreciated it…but you’re 29 now, too. What’s your dream, Sophie? You’ve been with Bart so long, have you ever decided what you really want? Where you’re going with your life? Was it ever really to be with him or were you in, oh, what do those airline people call it?”
“A holding pattern?”
“Yeah, that’s it. A holding pattern, just waiting for something else to come along? Or have you decided what you want to do with your life? To finish college and be a teacher…or, oh, what was it? An astronomer? No, an astrophysicist?—”
I couldn’t believe that she still remembered that all these years later. That was in the 2nd or 3rd grade after I watched one of those cool NASA videos in class but before I discovered astrophysicists had to know math. I ended up doing pretty well in math in high school, but astrophysics held only slightly more appeal than chemistry by that point.
“—To get married and have babies? Or whatever? If you don’t know, if you’re not really sure, that’s what you need to think about, sweetheart. And, when you’ve given it some good thought and decided, that’s when you need to do something about it for you and not for anyone else, including that…ahem, Bart.”
The sigh was mine this time, for other than knowing I wanted something having nothing to do with chemistry or physics, I wasn’t sure what I wanted or where I wanted to be, not now, not in a few months when I turned 30, or heaven forbid, not even when I turned 40.
What I was certain about was that wearing a padded push-up bra in my Barbecutie Pit outfit every night sure wasn’t much of a goal in life, though the money had been surprisingly good so far. With Creek City not having a strip joint, my rack and my butt in that halter top and those short shorts were among the better attractions in town most evenings. I worked hard to stay in shape and my tips were often outstanding as a result. In addition, my smile, which the dentist with whom I’d had that romantic encounter last year told me was one of the prettiest he’d ever seen, didn’t hurt, either.
While working at the Pit had never been one of my goals in life, the money turned out to be pretty good, at least for now, and so I pushed the thought of wearing that damned push-up bra and tied-off top every day to the back of my mind. Similarly, if those shorts were a wee bit cheeky, then so be it.
Still, I didn’t want to be using my physical assets for money forever, and then there was the desire for companionship. Oh, I could find a new guy almost any time I wanted, maybe even a good one in time, but would that put me on the road to something better? With most of the guys in our area, that was questionable…or even doubtful.
And babies? Mom just had to sneak that in there, didn’t she? Sue had finally settled down when the odds finally caught up with her and now she had three, but she’d been lucky that Bill was a great guy and father—she’d have probably been on marriage number three or four by now if some of her other creepy boyfriends had hit the bullseye first. Instead, Bill had gotten a promotion and they’d recently moved from Oregon to Texas as a result, but that’s still a far cry from Creek City, meaning Mom still wouldn’t get to see them nearly as often as she wished, and leaving me, as always, as her best target for more.
Discouraged, I replied, “Thanks, Mom. I—”
“What about your trip?” she asked. “Are you still going on it?”
And that, until Bart’s announcement, had been the bright spot in my life, the thing I’d been looking forward to the most. We’d planned it for nearly six months, saved the money, and found a nice resort on the beach in Galveston.
“Yeah, you better believe it. I really need a good vacation.”
“Without him, I presume?”
“Yes, Mom,” I retorted, feeling as if she was twisting the knife a little more than necessary. “The film folks will be filming while we’re supposed to be on the trip so he said he couldn’t go. Since it’s nonrefundable at this point, he told me to use it and not worry about him.” He’d actually been rather nice about that, not asking for reimbursement for the part he’d paid.
“It’s a good thing or I’d have given him a piece of my mind. After all, he’ll be close enough in California that he can go to the beach any time he wants.” She huffed, making me wish I wasn’t getting the piece I was. She wasn’t quite done though, adding, “And you really ought to think long and hard about what we’ve talked about while you’re on your trip.”
“Yeah, Mom, I will, but I really need to get to bed now. Oh, and don’t tell Sue or the boys about Bart, okay? I’ll tell them. Soon.”
She made a little “hmph” at that last part before saying, “Okay. Sleep well, dear, but you think about what I said.”
***
Mom must have cursed me with her wish to sleep well, or, more probably, with her repeated advice to think about my situation. Trying to put it all out of my mind, I tossed and turned until exhaustion finally claimed me. I think the alarm went off a few minutes later.
The next night and the one following were similar…at least until about 2 in the morning on that second night. So frustrated, I dug my “magic wand” (the really good kind, not the Harry Potter type) out of the drawer and assumed the position on the bed, legs spread wide, knees up and out, feet pulled up, turned it on low, and eased it into position over my panties.
A shiver passed through me as the vibrations began. I ran the head down one side, up the other, and then a pass up the cleft before circling in to the sweet spot. A few seconds getting there led to a pleased sigh followed by settling into a favorite pattern over my clit as my eyes closed and I began surfing the building waves of pleasure.
When I was ready, I turned it up to the next level and it was like hitting the turbo-thing on a racecar. I moaned softly and started pressing it harder against myself, realizing only then that I really should have taken my panties off. It was already too late so I pushed them to the side and used two fingers to spread my lips apart as I angled the head down to nestle there in the gap as well as against my clit.
My breathing became pant-like as it intensified and it wasn’t long before I practically exploded inside, moaning aloud as I switched off my mechanical lover and clamped my legs down around it, enjoying for a time the euphoric tidal wave that had swept through me.
Minutes later following a trip to the bathroom and a stop by my drawer for fresh panties, I was back in bed and fast asleep in almost no time.
***
If the nights when the wand didn’t get a workout were bad, the days were times of discouragement, too, with each day that followed yielding no new hopes and no new dreams for the future. However, thoughts of my upcoming vacation made me smile when I concentrated on it, so I tried to keep it in the forefront of my mind. I also tried to make alternate plans because who wants to go on a vacation alone?
Carol from work was my first choice. She was there for me every evening and she tried to encourage me, but we were so busy many evenings at the restaurant that we barely had time to talk. Knowing her situation and that we usually worked the same shifts, I approached Mr. Perkins before I brought it up with her since I didn’t want to get her hopes up and then have Mr. P, the manager and part owner of the Barbiecutie Pit, turn down the request. I spoke with him late one evening right after closing, just after Carol left for the night. I gave him my pitch.
“I’m sorry, Sophie, but no, definitely not. Since you two work the same shifts most of the time, there’s no way I can cover both of you at the same time. Sorry.”
I tried to get him to reconsider but he wasn’t having it so I nodded and thanked him. Carol was almost 22 and single so she’d become my best friend over the past couple of years as my high school friends continued their path through adulthood and I continued…well, through whatever. I was disappointed but not surprised at Mr. Perkins’ denial, especially since it was less than a month away, so I was glad I hadn’t mentioned it to her in advance.
With the date drawing nearer, I tried several other girlfriends without success. Everyone had to work, was busy, or already had other plans, so they all thanked me profusely for thinking of them but left me on my own and more than a little disappointed.
Next came Mom, but she worked and had to protect my younger brothers (“from themselves,” she claimed), so she, too, thanked me and turned me down. After I refused to discuss taking one of my brothers, she laughed, understanding, and then gently reminded me about telling my siblings about the breakup. I decided to start that on my next day off.
The problem was that, with the exception of Ronny, who knew him best from high school, they all liked Bart. Since we were closest, I called Ronny first, and he was appropriately sad for me but was so happy about my “near miss” I think I could hear him dancing a jig on the other end of the line.
“Things’ll get better, Sis,” he said.
“Thanks.” I’d thought a lot about it since speaking with Mom and I’d rethought at least one part of what I’d told her. “Ronny, speaking of better, how would you like to help? Would you like to come with me on my vacation? It’s a little suite with a couch so I could sleep on that and you could take the bedroom.” I gave him the dates and crossed my fingers.
“Sophe, I’d love to but I can’t, sorry, and I wouldn’t take your bed even if I could.”
“Okay, I’ll keep the bed. Please?”
“Sis, I can’t, I’m serious. We have a machine tool refurb project due during your second week so I expect I’ll be working on that up to the last minute since they always make process requirement changes almost up until the drawings are due. Besides, I only have a couple of days of vacation left and I’ve promised Jasmine that I’ll take her somewhere later this fall. Sorry.”
Disappointed but not surprised, I replied, “Oh, I understand. It’s practically the last minute so I’d actually be surprised if you could.”
“Have you thought about asking any of our brothers?”
“Thought about, yes, but asking, no. I could have fun with you since I wouldn’t have to be responsible for you.”
“Keith’s 22 now. I think he’d be okay.”
“Maybe. But he just started his internship job, what, two weeks ago? I can see it now. ‘Boss, think I can get off for two weeks to go on vacation? With my sister?'”
Ronny laughed. “Point taken. And Carson’s in summer school, leaving—”
“Not a chance,” I declared, laughing. “I love both of our little brothers but I’m not going to try to be responsible for them on a beach filled with girls in bikinis.”
He had a really good chuckle at that visual, but knowing how our big sister and I got along, he didn’t bother making that suggestion. Instead, he said, “Then good luck, Sophe. Looking forward to seeing you in a couple of weeks.”
“You, too, Ronny. Love you.”
“You, too, Sis.”
***
As my vacation neared, the days seemed to creep by but, like Christmases in my childhood, I crossed each off on the calendar in turn, becoming more excited with each added X. And sure enough, Carol was ticked at me for not asking her to come along and was more than a little jealous that I’d be gone so long. However, she understood when I explained and her disappointment switched toward Mr. Perkins.
“That jackass!” she griped before throwing her arms around me and giving me a hug as she buried her face on my shoulder. “Thanks for thinking of me, Sophe. But two whole weeks? I can see doing that if you were still going with Asshole, two weeks of sun and beer and orgasmic bliss—”
“With Bart? Orgasmic bliss?”
“Okay, two weeks of sun and beer and some sex, even with the Asshole, is better than the no sex you’re getting now.”
“Bitch,” I replied with a laugh, remembering how she’d always seemed to think Bart was great until the moment I dumped him.
“Always, sweetheart,” she replied with a grin. Then more seriously, she added, “Sophe, you know I just want what’s best for you and what makes you happy.”
I nodded, knowing she was right, but then she added, laughing again, “Of course, I’ll miss you and hate you every day you’re gone, but really, I do hope you’ll have fun. Even while I’m hating you for going without me.”
I laughed, too, which may have been a mistake. Mr. P. saw that hug and our apparent merriment, so he glared at us. I frowned back at him, just for a second, before getting started for the day. Mr. Perkins had no need to worry, he’d get his requisite amount of blood, sweat, and tears from both of us before the shift was over.
And he did, that day and each day that followed.
***
I called Sue one morning before work and let her know of my changed relationship status and gave her the news that Bart wouldn’t be with me on my upcoming visit on the way to the beach.
“Sophie Woodruff,” she scolded, “if you keep breaking up with every guy you get close to, you’ll never get married.”
“Sue, if I don’t break up with the wrong ones before we end up married, I’ll just be divorced.” I almost added that then I’ll have finally done something that she hadn’t, but I bit my tongue as always, and went on to have a decent conversation before ending the call with a promise to see her soon.
Unlike when I usually said it, I meant it this time.
***
I went to Mom’s house the next evening when I was off and spilled the beans about the breakup to Deke and Wally.
With Deke having graduated just a few weeks earlier and planning to attend KSU in the fall and Wally being a rising high school senior, they were both avid sportsmen when they weren’t playing their silly videogames and they adored Bart, a former football star at Creek City High. Both were quite disappointed that I’d broken up with him, but they were excited that they might be able to see him on TV someday.
I talked with Mom and helped with the dishes while they went to play something on their XBox. I’d heard most of this conversation before, more about where I was, what I wanted, and how I planned to “eventually” get there. Of course, she had to throw that word in, discouraging me even more, making me feel even worse.
“Eventually” is one of those words that is like a double-edged sword. When used as most people intend it, it’s a word of hope, offering the promise that things won’t always be the same, that they’ll change in time and that better days lie ahead. As Mom and some others tend to use it though, eventually is a warning, a red-flag, and a discouraging word that makes it sound like better times lie far, far ahead, if they ever show up at all.
Mom’s usually quite positive; when you have seven kids, I suspect you almost have to be to get by, but not pleasing her can put her into overdrive and bring me pretty low, pretty fast. This was one of those times.
However, Mom is first and foremost my mom. Seeing how discouraged I was, she then pulled one of her patented miracles, taking me into her arms and kissing me like I was still 8 or 9 while the tears rolled down my cheeks. She spent the next little while encouraging me and proceeding to build my self-confidence back up before, with tears dried and my minimal makeup fixed, we went into the family room to join the boys.
They paused their game and switched over to our old game system and Mario Party so Mom and I could join them. Mom played Daisy instead of her usual Peach, and I chose Yoshi, my usual favorite, until she frowned at me.
Wally noticed my hesitation and said, “Be brave, be bold, Sophe. Choose a different character.”
“Can I play Bowser?”
Deke shook his head at me as he gave me a curious look. “Not in this version. You know that.”
“Then I’ll be Yoshi pretending to be Bowser and I’ll kick your scrawny butts,” I laughed threateningly.
Mom put her hand over her mouth, to keep from laughing, I think, and the boys shouted, “You’re on!” as they chose Mario and Luigi, as always. With that settled, we spent the next hour or so enjoying ourselves, talking and laughing all the while. When we stopped, they had the XBox controllers back out in seconds and were defending themselves against whatever those creepy creatures were while Mom and I went back in the kitchen.
I talked for a little longer before getting the boys to pause their game long enough to walk me out to the car. There, they all gave me a hug, making me promise that I’d see them again before I left.
***
The Wednesday evening before my vacation was scheduled to actually begin on Saturday was a busy evening at the Barbecutie Pit with people coming in a relatively steady stream until shortly before 7 and then picking back up again a little after 8. You could always tell when the Baptist church’s 7 o’clock service let out; since it was just a couple of blocks down the street, several couples usually came in to eat afterward, with the men usually fixated on my rack instead of the ones on their plates and the women all-too-knowingly thinking of how they’d get their reward for their husband’s wandering eyes later in the evening.
Since most of the women knew me from high school or around town and knew that I’d never cheat with a married man, they were good with “look, don’t touch” as long as their man did his job with them later on, and I was happy with the bigger tips that resulted.
It was about 9:30 that evening when the front door opened and my friends Alan and Nessa Sizemore from up in Bettleys Corners walked in. We’d gotten to know each other fairly well over the past couple of years since they’d met, and they’d actually been married for almost the last nine months of that. However, I’d missed seeing them for the past couple of months or so and now it hit me like a brick wall that Nessa must have spent about half of her married life with Alan pregnant. Showing well, she had to be at least four or five months along, maybe even further.
I went up to greet them grinning like an opossum eating a persimmon and Nessa was grinning back at me like she’d had two before I gave her a careful hug and we kissed each other’s cheek.
“Somebody’s been biz-zy,” I teased before pulling back, “and nobody told me or posted about it online.”
This caused her to laugh and Alan, surprisingly, to turn a bit red. Not wanting to lose the advantage, I gave him a hug and kissed his cheek, too, while winking at Nessa. Trying to keep from laughing, she gave her funny little snort “I don’t snort” laugh as Alan struggled to regain his composure. I cut him off once, shortly before he met Nessa, when he was about to ask me for a date, and Nessa always chuckled about that, too, especially when Alan was trying to keep from recalling it.
Letting him off the roasting spit, I said, “Seriously, congratulations, guys! When are you due?”
Nessa gave me the details, telling me that they were only starting to tell people now that she couldn’t hide it anymore and that they were planning to announce it on social media over the weekend. This gave Alan a few moments to return to his normal gorgeous color. Remembering the time he tried to ask me out, if only he hadn’t been from Bettleys Corners, I would have probably married him before Nessa arrived in the picture.
Or at least I’d have tried!
“So what brings you to town so late this evening?” I asked. B.C. was a good 30 minutes up the road and they usually only came in on the weekend.
“Bad news,” said Alan. “Uncle Horace is in the hospital.”
That hurt, hitting me unexpectedly. Of course, the sweet old man had to be close to a hundred but still…
“What happened? Is he okay? He wasn’t alone, was he?” I could see him lying on the floor of his bathroom for hours like the little old lady in that horrible TV commercial.
“He’ll be fine, and they’ll let him leave in a few days. He was at the lodge helping some of the ladies put up decorations for the Independence Day party this weekend when he missed the bottom step on the ladder, fell, and broke his arm.”
“He was on a ladder?” I moaned, wondering why the ladies would have been stupid enough to let him get on the ladder. Then again, they do live in Bettleys Corners.
Nessa gave me Uncle Horace’s room number before they paid their bill and headed out. On hearing of my upcoming vacation, they smiled at each other and then each of them gave me a tip and told me to have fun.
Both tips were big…really big.
“This is too much, guys,” I said, shaking my head. The total was almost five times the cost of their meal.
Nessa shook her head and whispered to me, “Then Alan’s is the tip for excellent service, and mine’s the thank you for turning him down when you had the chance to snag him.” A bit louder where Alan could hear, she added, “Have a great time, Sophie, and we’ll see you when you get home.”
***
The hospital lady told me by phone that Uncle Horace wasn’t on dietary restrictions, so I’m not sure if his eyes lit up more on seeing me or the bag in one hand and the carrier with two drinks in the other.
“Ah, the ever-lovely Sophia! What a surprise! And she comes bearing gifts? Is that what I think it is?”
“Alan and Nessa said the hospital was holding you prisoner here so I came for a visit since I can’t break you out. There was a choice between flowers to brighten your room and food to brighten your tummy…”
“Don’t tell Nessa but I always told Alan you’re as smart as you are beautiful because, unless there are tiny little flowers in that bag, you chose wisely, very wisely. With the food they serve in this popsicle stand, I’m about to starve.”
Grinning, I went over and kissed his forehead before pulling the table up the bed so he could reach it better. Moments later, he sighed on seeing me open the carryout box for him. “Barbecutie Pit pulled pork! Sophia, if you were a bit older, dear, I’d ask you to marry me.”
Mom and Dad had named me Sophie instead of Sophia like people that name their kids Bob instead of Robert or Toni instead of Antoinette, so I’d corrected Uncle Horace on it after he’d called me Sophia the first few times when he’d come into the Pit with Alan. I’ll never forget his reply.
“Sweetheart, Sophia makes you sound more like the beautiful princess I see you as, so please, indulge this old man and let me honor you with it…particularly if you’re going to keep calling me Uncle Horace even though we’re not related.”
He’d winked at me on saying the last part, and I had to acknowledge he made a very good point. Therefore, I became Sophia to him and he remained Uncle Horace to me, even in the relatively rare instance when I saw him without Alan being around. Becoming friends, we often flirted a bit, like his “if only” marriage proposal. But two can play that game.
“Uncle Horace, if I were a bit older and you were a bit younger, I might take you up on that,” I teased back.
He chuckled and whispered, “Dear, if that were the case, I don’t know if we’d be talking about, ahem, actual marriage.” The way he said it and the way he raised his bushy eyebrow caused me to blush when I realized the implication of his suggestion before we both burst out laughing.
Grinning at me, he waved toward the food and we started eating. He was right-handed which made eating a bit difficult considering he’d cracked one of the bones in his right forearm. He was hungry though, so he got by and he gave a contented sigh when he was done. I stood up and collected his trash before sitting on the very edge of his bed facing him.
“Thanks for bringing this, Sophia. You really are an angel even if you’re usually just a princess in my mind. So, are you heading off to work?”
“Not for another hour, then tomorrow, I’m doing an early shift and heading our for vacation for two weeks when I get off.”
“Really? Where are you going? With that young man of yours? What’s his name? Brad? Brat?” He snickered at his joke, possibly forgetting that he’d used it before.
Or then again, possibly not.
“Bart and I broke up, Uncle Horace, so I’m going to see my brother Ron in Wichita and then to Dallas to see my sister Sue and her family before heading on down to the beach for some much-needed rest and relaxation.”
“Ahh! A summer road trip to the beach! There’s nothing like it. My friend Delmer Owens and I did that once upon a time back in the 60s. That was….”
His eyes told me he was in that long-ago time, reliving it, if just for a moment, and the smile that formed told me it was a very happy memory.
“Sir, want to tell me about it?”
He looked back at me and his eyes focused on mine. “No, sweetheart, you don’t need to hear a silly tale of a silly man who didn’t know what love was or how precious it was when one finds it.”
I reached across and took his good hand in mine, giving it a squeeze. “Uncle Horace, it might seem silly but it sounds like there may be a good lesson in there somewhere. Are you sure you don’t want to tell it?”
“Well, if you insist,” he said with a hint of a smile. Uncle Horace was a natural storyteller, true tales or tall, I was never sure, so he spent the next twenty-something minutes telling me about him and his friend Delmer taking Delmer’s van to California one summer. Basically camping out with the van, they stayed out there for most of two months, meeting a number of people along the way, but one name, Clarissa, stood out.
“Uncle Horace, this Clarissa? Tell me about her?”
A pained look flashed on his face for a moment before his features eased and he was back to his usually craggy, lined self. “Clarissa Beaumont. She was—present company excepted, of course, the prettiest young lady I ever met,” he whispered, “and the sweetest. We spent a lot of time together, fell in love, and were even talking about the future when things fell apart. If I’d been smarter, maybe been…more—flexible?—we might have had a chance, but I wasn’t and her parents made sure that she wouldn’t be….”
He trailed off, a tear streaming down his cheek, so I moved up and gave him a hug before lightly kissing his cheek.
“I’m sorry, Uncle Horace,” I whispered. “What happened?”
Still hugging me, he replied, “When we left for the trip home, I had hope that, well, maybe, things would change and work out, but that was in the days before all these new-fangled gadgets like cell phones and texting, and Facebook and that Tweeter thing, so we lost touch and never saw each other again. I’ve always regretted that, even to this day….”
He was done then and, with a sniffle, he patted my back three light times with his good hand before leaning back against his pillow.
“Have a great trip, Sofia, and whatever you do, come back smiling and with no regrets.”
***
Okay, I admit that I’m a bit of a romantic sometimes.
While at work later that afternoon, I came up with this great idea to find Uncle Horace’s Clarissa Beaumont that night after work. I finished up quickly and scampered home.
After an hour online that night, I continued searching on Friday morning, but there was no one that seemed even close to being a possibility of being the right Clarissa. Since it had been well over fifty years, I shouldn’t have been surprised, but it was still disappointing, not even taking into consideration that she probably had married, had a whole bunch of kids, and had long forgotten Horace before he ever even became an uncle or, in Alan’s case, great uncle.
While disappointed that I couldn’t find her, it was, in truth, probably for the best for all parties, allowing her to keep her privacy, assuming she wasn’t already pushing up daisies, and Uncle Horace to hang onto his old fantasy without it being shattered by present realities.
I sighed and shut down the laptop, packing it away for the trip and headed to work for a short shift.
***
As soon as I got off work at 2, I rushed home, threw everything in my RAV4 and drove the few blocks over to Sprucedale to deliver Twinkles, my kitten, to my mom’s house. I spent about twenty minutes with Mom, Deke, and Wally before giving them all a kiss and heading out with mom-baked care packages for Ronny and for Sue and her family.
The boys had actually begged to go with me but fortunately I’d talked to Mom about that when I originally asked her about going with me. In addition to needing some time alone, I couldn’t be responsible for them on a beach where there would be young women running around in bikinis that would probably make mine look tame. While I run regularly to stay in shape and have done a number of Creek City 5K Dashes with Mom over the years, I make sure my puppies are strapped down well in a heavy-duty running bra and, after seeing Kate Upton run in a bikini in a movie, I’ll never again do it in a bathing suit, especially not chasing after my brothers!
They made one last, futile attempt to convince me to take them with me that afternoon as I was leaving before Mom cut them off with a stare. After hugs and goodbye kisses, they returned to their video game while Mom walked me out to my car and gave me a big hug.
She looked rather serious as she said, “You have a great time, Sophie, and think about what we talked about, okay?”
A kiss, another hug, and I got in, ready to go, as Mom said, “Drive safely, Honey, call me every day, and we’ll see you in two weeks.”
***
“Little Sister! You made it!” exclaimed Ronny as he came out to greet me at his apartment in Wichita. “Did you have a good trip?”
I frowned at him for just a second before breaking out in a grin. “I think I may have hit the tail end of rush hour traffic here, but it’s always a good trip when I get to see you at the end,” I told him as I gave him a big hug.
Our big sister, Sue, is almost two years older than me, but she was always a little like Marsha Brady to my Jan, with me feeling like an also-ran and being a bit too envious of her looks, her grades, and, in high school and the first couple of years that followed, her success with the boys. With Ronny being 18 months behind me and then a several year gap between him and our four younger brothers, we ended up being closer, but since I was younger and a bit smaller than Sue, I was always his “Little Sister” despite being older than he was. When he hit puberty and 5′-10″, almost six inches taller than me, the term took on new meaning and remained.
We talked for a little while, with him telling me about his new girlfriend, and me trying desperately to avoid telling him of my spiraling love life. Unfortunately, Ronny knows me better than anyone other than Mom and possibly Carol and he could see the discouragement I was trying to hide.
“What is it, Sis? Still grieving over Bart? Don’t. I’m telling you, that’s the smartest move you’ve made in a long while.”
“Yeah, but it doesn’t feel all that good going all the way back to the starting line.”
“Ah! You’re not, and you’re not looking at it right. You’re not going back to the start, you’ve taken a detour that keeps you from ending up in a fiery crash-and-burn.”
I crashed sideways against him there on the couch, ending with a muted “Kaa-boom.”
Ronny laughed and put his arm around my shoulders, and gave me a squeeze. “I know you probably won’t want to hear this, Sis, but now’s a great time to make a change. Bart’s done, Deke’s graduated and will be off to college in a few weeks, and Mom can handle Wally with one hand tied behind her back. Why don’t you pack up and leave Creek City and Ashanti County? Just leave it all behind. Go make a life for yourself somewhere else. You could even finish college, get your degree, and move on.”
I’d been thinking along those lines, but that was just one of a number of options, so I nodded, more to get him to stop than in actual agreement, but that may have encouraged him further. “Say, Wichita State’s got some great programs you can look at and you can live here with me if you’d like. The back bedroom just has my weightlifting stuff and a bunch of boxes. Or else, if you want to get away completely, go somewhere else, and do something…different? Just don’t let yourself be trapped in a rut without options. Okay?”
I nodded again, even less half-heartedly but promising to think about it, just like everything else in my life. I even pulled up the Wichita State webpage and started taking a look at it, more for show than anything else, but he smiled.
***
Saturday, July 2nd
Since Jasmine, “Ron’s” current girlfriend, had to work on Friday evening, we went to breakfast. She was nice and pretty, but I suspected current was just a passing phase with them and one or the other would move on before long. Since he’d already invited me to live with him, I suspected that he knew it, too, so each of us pretended that everything was all hunky-dory with themself and everyone else, and we had a nice meal together.
As we were leaving the restaurant, he told her that he’d be over later in the morning after I left. Their kiss made me rethink my earlier evaluation and made me think how I could use some of that, too, if I could find the right guy.
He was back to Ronny when we got back to his apartment, and we talked until it was time for me to leave for Sue’s.
***
It’s a six-hour drive from Ron’s in Wichita to Sue and Bill’s in the Dallas suburbs. I became more nervous about the reception I’d receive as I got closer to their home.
After a warm welcome and some time with the family, the part I dreaded arrived. Sue got me alone and almost immediately started in on me, giving me a hard time about Bart and, in general, about wasting my life.
“You need to go to the beach, find a good-looking hunk, get fucked until you see stars a few times, and put Bart behind you. And then move on. You’re what? Four or five semesters from finishing your degree? Do it, get a good teaching job, and you’ll be set.”
“Sue, slow down. You’re trying to map my whole life out for me, but I’m not you. I’m thinking about the degree, but the rest? I don’t want to do that.”
“Sophe, you have to do something. Showing your tits off at that restaurant isn’t going to get you ahead in life. Not in the long term, anyway.”
That pissed me off. “Susie, I’ll have you know that I own my home, making monthly payments just like you and Bill do, and I’ve owned it for a lot longer than you’ve owned one. You rented that house in Oregon, remember?”
She blanched but I wasn’t done. “I save money every month and put some in my retirement fund, so don’t come off at me as holier-than-thou. No, I don’t want to work at the Pit forever, but I make a lot in tips and I don’t have to fuck anybody or get knocked up to do it.”
She went from pale to bright red when I included that last part. It was a family secret that we were holding from the boys and anyone else, and my bringing it up, even though no one else was around, was probably crossing the line.
“Fuck you, Sophie. Flash your tits, earn some tips.”
This pissed me off even more. Sue had built a reputation before she met Bill and I’d been the one who had to live with it, and counter it, when she was gone. My boobs were bigger than hers so some of the guys she’d known thought that I’d be easy like her, and I’d had to put them in their place. Sometimes it wasn’t easy.
“Sue, you know I don’t sleep with a guy on the first date like some people.”
“Maybe if you did sometimes, you wouldn’t be such a tight-ass. You’d enjoy yourself more and maybe even find what you’re missing.”
“I don’t think so, Marsha, and doubt that anything I found like that would be worth it.”
Steam was almost coming out of her ears when I played the Marsha Brady card, which made me snicker despite feeling more than a little like Jan. This caused her to snicker, too, and pretty soon we were hugging and apologizing.
“I really do just want what’s best for you, Sophe, whatever that is.”
“I know, Susie, but give me some time to figure it out, okay, and don’t push me into anything I don’t want.”
“Okay, but I’m telling you that a good fucking might make you see straighter…though a really good one actually might not.”
I got the innuendo but her attempt at crossing her eyes left me laughing out loud and then her with me.
It was what we needed to defuse the situation the rest of the way, and Sue concluded by telling me, “Just remember, you go to the beach for some sun and for a good fuck or two—or if you’re lucky, twenty—but nobody ever falls in love at the beach and has it last. I know you, Sophie, you’re a romantic at heart and you might think you’ve found something, but don’t fall for it. Get your jollies and leave it behind when you head home, taking some good memories but no last names, no addresses, no phone numbers, and nothing else. And please, please don’t give out any info either; I promise, and this is experience talking, you’ll be sorry if you do.”
Sue was nothing if not experienced; I vaguely recalled her complaints about a guy she’d once met on a trip who’d basically stalked her from afar for quite some time. I nodded as I looked away, thinking of what she said and how different we were despite being only 22 months apart.
She shook my arm. “Sophe, one more thing. Just remember, the beach is like Vegas: what happens at the beach stays at the beach. Remember that. Well, as long as you don’t get knocked up or an STD or something. Be careful with that part, okay?”
***
Sunday, July 3rd
Despite our issues, Sue and I are sisters and we love each other, most of the time, so we got along pretty well for the rest of our visit. I had a great time seeing my nephews and Bill, too, and she only pounded that stupid slogan into my head again about a hundred more times before I left late Sunday morning.
I arrived about 4 that afternoon and checked in. The resort was nice, but the room wasn’t quite what Bart had promised when he was selling me on it. The “gulf view” was true…if you went out on the balcony, leaned out, and looked to the side. After seeing that and looking down, I decided that I’d do my gulf watching from the beach rather than from my balcony.
Since I was going to be there for nearly two weeks instead of two days, I unpacked and stowed my suitcases and duffel bag in the closet. I rolled my eyes on finding a 12-pack of condoms in one of my bags; there was an S with a heart around it.
“Thanks, Sue,” I griped with more than a bit of sarcasm but then debated for a moment and put it in a drawer. While it wasn’t something I was planning, better safe than sorry.
The duffel bag was where I found another mystery present. The card on the outside said “Enjoy!” and with “Mom” written below. I smiled, thinking how she must have stashed it in there while we were taking my kitty’s things out of the RAV4 and into the house.
The shape was right for a small book or planner, but it was right for a host of other things, too, and it didn’t feel heavy at all. If it was a book, it had to be quite thin, as if she didn’t expect me to need it for very long. Holding it up to my ear, I gave it a little shake but that didn’t give me a hint either.
“Something…non-perishable,” I guessed aloud before chuckling and ripping off the wrapping paper. The box opened, I looked inside, and my mouth fell open.
It was a hot pink bikini with more string and less fabric than anything I’d ever worn in private, much less in public. Turning it to and fro, I suspected that I might be able to wear it in public without being arrested…maybe.
Shaking my head, I tossed it in the drawer.
I chuckled as I did, realizing that it was a good thing it really wasn’t perishable because I doubted that it would ever get used.
***
After a walk on the beach late that afternoon, dinner that evening, and a shopping trip for some food, a bottle of rosé, and a six-pack of Peroni at the nearby Walmart, I returned to my room and settled in for the evening. I surfed channels for a bit without finding anything exciting but my mind eventually returned to that damn hot pink bikini.
Opening a bottle of Peroni, I took a swig before pulling those pink scraps out of the drawer. After checking it over and over, I ended up stripping off my clothes, peeling the hygiene shield off the tiny gusset of the bikini bottom, and putting the damned thing on.
It took a bit…and then a bit more…but I finally got it on and laughed. The narrow triangles on top covered….
Well, everything critical plus some but not nearly enough! I normally wear a 32D (or 32DD in the case of a couple of bras) but this looked like it might have covered a B-cup…or maybe a C with some help. And the bottom was just as bad! Then, when I turned to look at the back…well, my Barbecutie Pit shorts are a bit cheeky but I’ve never had a cheeky bikini bottom before. This wasn’t cheeky, it was practically full moon shining territory. I was laughing as I turned back to the front again, and then back around….
Several times I looked, thinking I could have rivaled some of those girls on the cover of the annual swimsuit edition for the amount of material…or rather, the lack thereof. Doubting that I’d ever wear it in public, I didn’t have to wonder too hard about the thoughts a lot of guys would be directing my way if I did. This set me off, making me warm and needy for some overdue relief.
I tossed that little bikini back in the drawer seconds later, climbed into bed, pulled my knees up, and turned on my magic wand. My head tipped back, I was soon in heaven as it did its work on me.
When sleep came a short time later, it was a really good sleep.
***
Monday, July 4th
Some people sleep late on vacation but I usually get up at the same time (unless I was up really late the night before). On Independence Day, I got up even a little earlier, had a cup of coffee, and went out to the beach for a run. Dawn had broken, giving plenty of light as I ran along the beach, just above the water line, allowing me to enjoy the beauty and sounds of the surf. A number of people were out walking, some with a dog or dogs, some were looking for shells, and two or three people were out riding bikes.
Having checked the time the evening before, the alarm on my phone went off a couple of minutes before sunrise and I turned to watch the sun claw its way above the horizon and begin its journey across the sky. It’s almost surprising how quickly it happens, the sky as if backlit one second, then a piercing sliver as the sun gets that first toehold across the water, followed by a full, bright circle just a couple of minutes later.
“It’s a beautiful sight, every morning,” said a female voice a short distance away.
I turned to see her, sitting down a few feet further up the beach. Wearing long pants, long sleeves, and nothing on her feet, she was probably in her sixties but she was sitting cross-legged like she was doing yoga or something as if she was younger than me. “Good morning,” I replied.
“And good morning. Well, it’s beautiful every morning that it’s not raining or just cloudy. But even then, you know it’s still there, as beautiful as ever, you just can’t see it.”
I smiled and gave her a nod, thinking how the sunrise was sort of like a metaphor for the opportunity in my life, always there but not always obvious. The woman closed her eyes and went back to meditating or sleeping or whatever she was doing so I whispered, “Have a great day,” and took off running down the beach, thinking.
Back in my room, I showered and ate breakfast before going online to do some research on Wichita State and its elementary education program. To my surprise, I really liked what I found and decided I wanted to know more.
***
With my cooler and beach bag packed, I hit the beach a little later that morning in my most patriotic bikini, a red, white, and blue two-piece, determined to get lots of rays. With sewn straps rather than tiny strings, it provided good support where needed and good-enough coverage that I didn’t feel uncomfortable as I might in a certain hot-pink monstrosity.
There were two beach chairs and a big beach umbrella as part of the resort package Bart had selected for us, so I made use of a chair and the umbrella when I wasn’t lying out sunning on my beach blanket or walking in the surf. Bart’s chair sat empty…for a while.
“Hi, mind if I join you?” asked the tall, good-looking man who plopped down in the chair next to me before the words were out of his mouth. He was tall and broad, his body tanned and chiseled, his head of hair dark and full, and his eyes even darker. I looked to me as if he was a panther sizing me up like dinner. He was, in short, my sister’s type of guy during her freewheeling days.
“Hope you don’t mind but I’ve ordered you a fruit drink from the bar, too.”
I was taken aback, first by his forwardness and then by his statement, but then I saw the waitress from the cabana bar approaching with a tray with two different fruit drinks with two straws and one of those little umbrellas in each.
“Mixed at the bar, ma’am, your choice, compliments of the gentleman,” said the waitress, nodding to the man.
“Uhm, thank you,” I answered, selecting the red one. “And thank you,” I added, turning to the man. Hoping to throw him off his game, I was blunt. “Do you always invade a woman’s space and buy her drinks without asking?”
He smiled. “Only if they’re insanely beautiful like you.”
With the tables turned as quickly as a switch, I blushed, looking away. I know I’m fit and pretty by Creek City standards, but this was too much, only making me determined to be even more wary than before.
We talked for a bit, but little changed as our conversation progressed; I wasn’t exactly enamored with him despite his high praise and his offer of a second drink. When the drinks were done, I said, “Thanks again for the drink. I need to continue reading this now. Work, you know, I, ah, review books for the local newspaper.” It was a little lie, of course, but since I’d remembered Sue’s advice and purposefully withheld my last name and address, he’d never know.
He looked surprised but when I started reading and ignoring him, he eventually got the hint that I wasn’t going to continue talking with him and moved on. It wasn’t long before I saw him talking to two other young ladies and not much longer after that before they’d all disappeared. Whether that was apart or together, I didn’t know and didn’t care.
More people showed up as the morning progressed. There were a number of red, white, and blue patriotic-themed bathing suits somewhat similar to my own, patriot board shorts on a number of men, some American flags, and even a couple of flag-motif umbrellas or sun covers.
A kid flew a kite shaped something like a jet fighter with some long red, white, and blue streamers. That looked pretty cool and I enjoyed watching it flutter in the stiff breeze until I found myself almost dozing off. It was, I suspected, the most relaxed I’d been since before the breakup.
Two older guys came along with metal detectors, scanning the ground with their detectors and all of the girls with their eyes. Oh, they were wearing dark, shiny sunglasses that effectively hid their eyes, but so was I and I watched them as they approached. It became obvious that their searches were usually closer to pretty girls lying out and that their search patterns, with their metal detectors anyway, sucked. When they closed on me, I took off my glasses so they could see my pale blue eyes staring back at them and almost getting darker by the second. They quickly noticed a better search area a little further down the beach and took off for it almost at a run.
I grinned and took a drink of water, taking the opportunity to survey the beach and the crowd of people nearby.
I was surprised to see that as the morning progressed and more people arrived, the relative amount of fabric in many of the bikinis on display seemed to decrease. There were a number that were fairly similar to the one my mom had given me, though none in that insanely hot pink color. Since it had been several years since my last trip to the beach, I was surprised at the number of thongs, the exposed butt cheeks on display, and the number of equally obvious admirers.
Seated in my chair under the beach umbrella with my oversized reflective sunglasses on, I watched some of those young ladies from a distance, expecting every second to see a wardrobe malfunction, but those wearing such outfits seemed to know to stay out of the heavy surf and everyone seemed to enjoy their day clothed, however infinitesimally minor the amount of “clothed” was.
Around noon, I gathered up my things and went back to my room for a break. I called Mom to check in, ate a bite of lunch, and did some research online. After a short nap (one of the pleasures of vacation time), it was back to the beach.
More sun, more play in the surf, and another nice walk down the beach and back followed. On reaching my limit on sun exposure for the day, even with all of my sunscreen, I made sure the umbrella was aligned correctly and then seated myself in my beach chair with a nice fruity pineapple drink and chilled.
The empty beach chair became a problem again as the day progressed. I had to run a few more guys out of it, though one guy seemed nice, asking first if he could join me.
“Hi, I’m Holden,” he said, holding out his hand.
I extended mine. “Sophie,” I said as he took it, giving a polite shake but then cupping his other hand over our still-clasped hands.
‘It’s very nice to meet you, Sophie. May I buy you a drink?”
“Thank you, but no. I’ll be leaving soon,” I said truthfully, having already decided to return to my room within minutes.
“Ah, perfect. Then perhaps you’ll join me for dinner this evening?”
Holden was over 6-feet tall, and appeared to be about 200 pounds or so. He was nicely tanned and very fit, having a full head of blondish-brown hair a bit lighter than my own and green eyes that reminded me, in a way, of Bart. I almost said no as a result, but he flashed a very nice smile at me and it slipped out before I could stop myself.
“Okay.”
The smile intensified, becoming even more radiant in the late afternoon sun. I smiled back.
“Tell you what, meet me in the main lobby at 7:30? I’ll get us reservations at the resort’s main restaurant, and then maybe we can go to the dance club afterward?”
“Restaurant sounds good, but we’ll see about the dancing, okay?”
He nodded. “Deal. I’m glad we met, Sophie, and I’m really looking forward to seeing you again later.”
Perhaps he had a thing for books or movies about knights or musketeers or something for he kissed the back of my hand, gave me a smile, and then turned and ran off down the beach.
I breathed out slowly, thinking it was going to be an interesting evening.
***
In addition to being so good looking, Holden Edwards seemed like a very nice guy, a project manager with a construction company out of San Antonio, and he was very polite as we talked through dinner.
I didn’t volunteer much about myself, though when he asked, I used my earlier cover of doing book reviews and added that I wrote human interest articles for the local newspaper. I’d brought several books to read and had worked on the school newspaper in high school so I figured it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch if he asked questions.
He did, but very polite ones, and he smiled and paid complete attention as I spun off some reasonable-sounding answers.
Two glasses of wine down, I was feeling relaxed so I agreed when he asked me to join him at the resort’s nightclub. We got another round of drinks there and went out on the dance floor a short time later.
Holden was a good dancer and he complimented me on how smooth and sexy my moves were. Wearing a sundress with no bra, I felt his hands touch me as we danced, and when the music slowed for a time and we were up close, I felt his salute, tall and proud, between us.
“Sophie, you’re so sexy, girl,” he whispered. “Would you like to go up to my room?”
In truth, I was debating it, wondering if I should let myself go and let whatever happen, but I knew exactly what would happen if we went upstairs. That was the hard part, the part that really wasn’t me.
I’d never been comfortable at the thought of having sex with a stranger. I wanted a connection with a guy, to get to know him, before I went too far. There had to be at least a possibility that I’d be interested in a relationship of some type before I did it, so I’d gotten pretty good with hand jobs and sometimes participated in oral pursuits to keep prospects happy for a date or sometimes several before I made up my mind.
With Holden, I sensed that wouldn’t be enough. If I went upstairs with him, there would be no putting it off, no turning back. And in truth, I wasn’t sure I wanted to.
However, I was afraid, afraid of what we would do, and afraid of the effect it might have on me. Sue always accused me of being cautious when it came to guys; whereas she was like greased lightning when it came to new men, my approach was slow and steady, more akin to that heavy tar they used to mop on the roof of Creek City High.
“Holden, I’d…I’d like to…but—”
“Ah! You want to get to know me a little better first, right?”
“Yeah,” I breathed in relief, so glad that he understood. “I just need a little more time. Do you think we can talk some tomorrow? I’ll be in the same spot.”
He smiled. “That sounds great, Sophie. I’ll stop by tomorrow so we can talk some more. Then, good night for now.”
It was sudden, his arm snaked around me, pulling me close, and then his lips were on mine and I was spinning. My lips opened and I brushed his lips with my tongue. His mouth opened a bit and his tongue was there, swirling with mine, and it felt almost like an explosion as we separated. My eyes were wide as I looked at him.
“Wow,” I breathed.
He grinned at me, the tip of his tongue flicking across his upper lip. “I’m really looking forward to tomorrow, Sophie, but first, would you like me to walk you to your room?”
I’d had that third glass of wine and possibly a fourth so I was feeling pretty good, particularly after the dancing, but I wasn’t sure what would happen if he escorted me upstairs. I had a feeling that he wouldn’t leave until morning.
“Ahem, I’m fine, thanks. Good night, Holden. Until tomorrow.”
“Good night, Sophie. Until then.”
As I made my way to the elevator to my tower, I was thinking about him, and how good he’d felt when we were dancing, when we were kissing. Maybe Sue was right; maybe I needed to let loose a bit, to enjoy sex with no strings attached for a change. Maybe some good sex—no, as Sue said, a good fucking—would help my attitude.
I’d taken two or three steps away, heading back toward the nightclub when the elevator bell dinged. I stopped and looked back, and then looked back in the direction of the nightclub, hesitating, trying to decide.
“Miss, are you coming?” asked a man holding a woman’s hand. They were older, appearing to be in their fifties or sixties, and were either married or very comfortable together.
“Ah, yes, sorry,” I said, turning back toward them. Whatever I was and whatever I decided, I wasn’t my sister.
***
Tuesday, July 5th
I’d watched the Independence Day fireworks in the distance from my balcony and fallen into bed soon after. Despite that, the sun was already well above the horizon before I awoke and headed to the beach on Tuesday morning. I was wearing a cover-up that I wasn’t sure would be coming off. The reason was that Mom’s hot pink bikini was under it.
Unfortunately, while there was a decent crowd, there weren’t nearly as many people as on July 4th, and the really tiny bikinis I’d seen the day before were nowhere in sight. A number of girls were wearing thong bottoms showing a lot of butt cheek but they were all wearing somewhat more conservative tops. On seeing this, my courage disappeared and my cover-up stayed on.
Sitting in my chair with the cover-up pulled tight around me, I was debating returning to the room, especially since I’d received looks from a number of guys and some girls who may have seen the hot pink shining through my thin white cover up.
Yes, not my best choice of color combination, I’m afraid, so I stood up to gather my things and make a quick exit.
“Hi, Sophie! I found you,” said Holden, coming up behind me, “and it looks like I arrived right on time. If I’d gotten here five minutes earlier, I’d have thought you’d stood me up.”
“Ah, yeah.” Everything I’d just picked up went back down. “Want to sit with me and talk for a while?”
“Here, can I help you with your cover up?”
“Ahem…sure,” I said, wanting to die even as I said it.
He was quite gentle as he removed it from my shoulders, as the sleeves slid down my arms and fell off, exposing my near nakedness to the world. He folded it and was about to hang it over the back of my chair when his breath caught.
“Oh. My. God,” he whispered, saying it just like Thor’s girlfriend in one of those Marvel movies my brothers love so much.
I turned toward him then, not sure if that was a good thing, until he saw my front. “My God, Sophie, you are so beautiful,” he breathed. I swear I noticed the front of his swim trunks move as he said it.
“Thanks, Holden? Wanna have a seat?”
“Definitely. Sophie, if I’d have known just exactly what you had under that dress last night, I might have gone caveman on you. Picked you up, threw you over my shoulder, and took you back to my resort cave to make mad, passionate love to you all night. You are just…wow, words fail me.”
I grinned at him, surprised in a way at the reaction but happy nonetheless. We ordered a round of drinks from the cabana bar waitress and then sat and talked for the rest of the morning.
After being so understanding about my qualms the night before, Holden was once again open and honest with me, so I decided to be the same, shutting out Sue’s almost shouted warnings in my mind. I found myself telling him far more about myself than I originally planned. It all spilled out, my name and background, the Barbecutie Pit, Creek City, Bart, and my debate about returning to school to finish my degree. He was very interested and very supportive, asking questions that made me think and offering a few suggestions along the way. We swapped phone numbers and texts to confirm.
The conversation turned at some point. “Sophie, I’m sorry I scared you off last night. You’re an incredible young woman and I was, quite frankly, completely turned on.”
I blushed, an embarrassed smile covering my face. “I was pretty turned on over you, too, Holden, but I needed a little more time. I appreciate you giving it to me.”
He nodded as he took my hand. “You’re so worth the wait.”
***
We spent most of the rest of the day together before heading back to our rooms to get ready for dinner. My hair took a while; I finally settled on an uptwisted braid in the back, wishing all the while that I’d gone with a bit more blonde highlighting, but my usual dark brown color with what highlights I had would have to do.
I dressed in a wraparound-style little black dress that dipped low but not so low I couldn’t wear a deep V bra to keep everything looking good and in place. It also had an asymmetric hemline that added a bit of character. Teamed with black high heels, thigh highs, diamond stud earrings, a small but matching solitaire pendant, and three-quarter dark smokey eyes with a blue tinge to highlight my own blue eyes, I’m not sure if I’d ever looked hotter.
Holden was desperate for me with his eyes when he saw me walking up to meet him; I’m not sure he even realized his tongue touched his lips for a moment before he bit down on his bottom lip. I smiled and said, “Hi, Holden.”
“Holy shit, Sophie! I thought you looked fucking hot in that bikini today. You’re absolutely divine,” he said, pulling me to him.
After last night and a few samples earlier in the day, I knew what was coming…until I didn’t. This time, he played me like a violin with only his lips, dancing them lightly all the way around my lips like a prima ballerina before suddenly going head on, lips slightly open and giving me a solid, harder pucker to die for.
I think I said “wow” or something like that when he kissed me the night before, but that didn’t seem good enough now. I felt I needed something in a romantic tongue like French to come close to expressing what I was feeling, but since I didn’t do that well in my one semester of high school French and since French poodles probably have a better French accent than Mrs. Potansky, I said nothing, trying to catch my breath instead.
Holden smiled at me then and ran his finger across my bottom lip. “Careful there, you’ll bite that pretty lip off if you don’t stop chewing it like that. You’ll need it later.”
It was only then that I realized I’d been imitating him just moments before our kiss and I let off, still panting.
“Relax, Sophie. You’re absolutely the hottest girl here and I’m, by far, the luckiest guy.”
He took my arm and led me into the resort’s upscale restaurant for the second night in a row.
***
We dined, we drank, we danced.
I probably drank more than I should have and Holden had a lot more than me, but we seemed to be fine and in a circumstance where it wouldn’t matter and we could enjoy ourselves.
I enjoyed every minute of it, and on the dance floor, we kissed for a while, a long while, as we pressed ourselves together. As such, I was desperately ready when he said the magic words, “Would you like to go up to my room?”
“Yes. Now, please.”
We made it into his room and got the door closed before he pinned me against the wall, his hands trying to undo the wrap. I had to help and my dress hit the ground in a clump a moment later. My bra followed a second after that and he had my boobs pushed high and was moaning into them before I could get two of the buttons undone on his shirt. I was moaning as I peeled it up and off of him, tossing it away so I could move to his belt.
His pants were around his ankles then and he’d returned to kissing me as his hands practically mauled my tits, kneading them skillfully and tweaking my nipples, a mix of pleasure almost but-not-quite bordering on pain. I whimpered when he lost my left boob, leaving it untended, but his hand was on my thigh then, pulling it up, and his dick, huge in his boxer briefs, was pressed against my pussy.
Worried about that stupid hot pink bikini, I’d shaved my patch down to almost nothing. I pushed his underpants down somehow, freeing him, and his giant head was pushed against me.
“Condom’s in my purse,” I grunted as I got a hand on his dick. So thick, I don’t think my fingers touched my thumb as I gave him a slow pump. From what I could tell, he didn’t have a hair down there either.
“Fuck!” he growled before sucking my nipple and a good part of my tit down his throat. It was too hard, but I didn’t care. He let go then, my leg dropping and my foot hitting the floor, as he reached down for my purse. Reaching in, he grabbed the strip of condoms and pulled, flinging most of the contents of my purse across the entryway. Pushing my thong panty to the side, he cupped my pussy with one hand, sliding two fingers all the way into me, as he used the other and his teeth to open the condom wrapper.
He started it on and I slid it down him while groaning as he sawed his fingers in and out of me, rubbing my clit with each motion.
“It’s on,” I gasped before moaning with each of his movements. His fingers were out then and he was lifting my leg back up again before putting his head against me and driving inside.
“Oh, God!” I groaned, never having felt anything so large. He’d stopped after that first thrust but then did it once more, going further in before ever withdrawing a bit and slamming back in again. “Ohhh!” I moaned as he lifted my other leg. With my back set against the wall and my feet trying to encircle him, he started pounding against me.
It wasn’t long before I felt it building as he drilled me, hard and deep like a pile driver. I’d never felt anything like it so I called out, “Please don’t stop, Holden, please. I’m getting close, so close.”
“Don’t worry, baby, I’m going to fuck you all night, you gorgeous thing.”
I came moments later, crying out as I clenched his manhood and his muscles. He stopped for a moment, still holding me up in the air against that wall, before kicking off his shoes and then kicking his pants and underpants off his feet. To the bed he carried me, lowering me down and then plunging all the way in as he crashed down atop me.
I groaned, not having realized he wasn’t all the way in at the wall. This almost hurt, but then he was withdrawing and coming back in and going back out…
My head rolled back as he fucked me unmercifully, the most complete pounding I’d ever experienced in my life. I’m not sure how long it took or how many more orgasms I had before he gave one last almost supreme push and groaned as he blasted into the condom.
“Fuck, Sophie, you’re the best fuck ever.”
“I’m not sure but I think I died and went to heaven…a few times,” I replied with a laugh. “Now that I’m back on Earth, at least a little, I need to use your bathroom.”
***
After we cleaned up, we got in his bed. He’d fixed a couple of drinks while I was in the bathroom; when I declined one, he tossed it down his throat and then started sipping on his own.
He kissed me, hard, and then his hands started wandering when I could have used a bit of cuddling and maybe even coddling. I was surprised that he continued being, well, almost rough, after the ferocity of our first encounter. The coarseness of his language, a bit of which I’d attributed to the heat of the moment as we fucked, continued as he told me things he wanted to do with and to me before the night was over.
While I wasn’t comfortable with all of it, I almost chucked at his ambitiousness, but when he was ready to go again in less than half the time I’d guessed, I began to wonder if he really could—
Oh! He was going down on me then. Oooh!
I really enjoy good cunnilingus, where a guy knows what he’s doing and knows how to play me, to build me up in a crescendo over time. Holden wasn’t like that, knowing only one way, fast and hard, just like his loving.
It didn’t take long for me to reach orgasm but it wasn’t nearly as good as it could have been. I was ready to relax a bit, but Holden needed his turn. I moved over him but he shifted to sit on the edge of the bed, telling me to get on my knees on a pillow in front of him.
“Now, suck this cock, bitch! Suck it good.”
I didn’t like him calling me that but it was in the heat of the moment, he’d had a lot to drink, and I was in a good mood and wanted to make him feel good. He’d put a pillow down, too, so it was probably just an act, so I didn’t say anything as I probably should have. Instead, I dropped to my knees to pleasure him.
It was as huge up close as it had felt inside but I started working on him, taking in as much as I could. He started encouraging me with more coarse words that weren’t really encouraging, and then he started growling in his throat.
“Sophie, I gonna fuck your tits in a little while, but right now, aarrgh!”
I tried to take him a bit deeper so he could shoot down my throat but he pulled out then and aimed that cannon right at my face.
“Not my face! On my boobies, okay?” I said before the first blast caught me head on. I closed my eyes just in time to avoid that, but felt it hitting most everything else. I’m not sure how many jets there were, but when I wiped my eyes and what I could from my face, rubbing my hand on the sheet as he was putting the last of it on my tits.
He was rubbing them with that big head and starting to try to slide it between them when I stood up and stepped back. “Holden, you didn’t have to do that. I was gonna swallow. I don’t like it in my face, okay?”
He was grinning. “Chill out, Sophie. It’s okay, you look great in it. Besides, I like seeing my ladies covered in my cum. It’s like porn stars do it.”
I looked at him, wondering if he really was playing, if it was the alcohol, or if this was suddenly the real Holden shining through. Whichever, he had to know how I felt. “Well, I’m sorry, Holden, I don’t like that. I’ll share, I’ll do a lot to make you feel good, too, and even push my limits sometimes, but if you’re not going to pay attention to what I really don’t like, too, so we can enjoy this together, I’ll have to go. So listen close: I won’t be treated badly, I don’t do anal—”
Not with his howitzer, anyway.
“—and you can spray all the spunk you want on my tits but I don’t like it in my face or hair, got it?”
“Oh, come on. Don’t be like that, girl. We’re gonna have fun.” He took my arm and pulled me into his.
I looked up at him, my face still wet and sticky from where he’d sprayed me. He kissed me on top of my forehead—deliberately I noticed, well outside his disaster zone, despite how much alcohol he’d had. “Holden, it’s not fun if we’re not both enjoying it and right now, I’m not. I think I better leave.”
He looked at me, his face turning dark as he realized I was being serious. “Really? You’re gonna walk out after what we’ve done so far? Before we can do so much more? I’ll skip fucking your ass if you really insist on it.”
“Yeah, I think I’d better,” I said, feeling less comfortable with the situation and with what I was doing by the moment. “I’m not sure if this is me or my sister.” I started reaching for my clothes, suddenly aware that I was naked in front of a man I hardly knew despite how intimately we’d known each other just minutes earlier.
“Your sister? Is she an as-uptight bitch as you are?”
I slipped into the dress and started tying it around me without bothering with my underwear. Time was of the essence and I needed out before the tears started flowing.
“Just forget it,” I said, stuffing my bra and thong in my purse. Down on my hands and knees, I scooped up everything I could find, ID, room card, and lipstick and put them in, too. I’d gone with the bare essentials in the little purse when I packed it before dinner which was a good thing; with the bra in there, there wasn’t room for more. I couldn’t find the rest of my makeup and didn’t bother reaching for the rest of the condoms. I grabbed my heels and moved toward the door.
“Sophie, if you walk out that door, I’ll—”
I could tell he wasn’t happy about me leaving. Maybe he’d learned his lesson?”
“—I’ll find the bitch I found and fucked last night after you chickened out. At least she knew—”
I was out the door, slamming it hard behind me, to avoid hearing the rest.
“—how to fuck and have fun!” he called through the slowly closing door.
Fucking door closer! I screamed in my mind as I ran down the hall. Of course they’d have those things to keep doors from slamming at all hours of the day and night.
I was feeling about as low and sick at my stomach as I’d ever felt. Rather than wait for the elevator, I ducked into a stairwell and padded barefoot down three floors before stopping to sit down on a step as the tears flowed.
My little pack of tissues was one of the losses from my purse, so I pulled out my thong, folded it just right, and wiped my face, trying to make it look presentable for the walk through the lobby to my tower. The hose had sagged a bit in all of the action so I pulled up first the left and then the right, only to discover that it had ripped during Holden’s wall gymnastics.
With a huff, I pulled them off and tossed them in the corner of the stairwell behind a big red pipe that was labeled “Fire Riser.”
“Fuck!” I spat as I put my heels on. At least I didn’t break them along the way. Standing up, I stepped over and picked up the hose. They probably wouldn’t want anything flammable next to the fire riser. I almost smiled at the ridiculous thought.
Almost.
I caught the elevator on that floor moments later, and did smile when I found no one inside. However, it got worse as I did the walk of shame back to my room, having to go through the main lobby to the other tower, and then up. It felt like everyone was staring at me, and Sue’s advice from days earlier didn’t help a bit.
“Own it, Sophie! Make it a walk of fame rather than one of shame. Be like Beth on that cowboy show, strut your stuff and make every guy that sees you wish he’d been so lucky as the guy you were with. Make every woman that sees you wish she could have what you had.”
She’d waved her hand doing the queen wave, which made me laugh and us both to break out in giggles.
Now, though, I wasn’t giggling. My eyes were crying, my heart hurting at his actions and my own stupidity.
By the time I returned to my room, there were several text messages from Holden, apologizing and asking me to come back. Sue’s always accused me of being a bit naive, but I’m not completely stupid. As much as I hated to admit it, I’d really screwed up in going against her advice and giving Holden my info so quickly.
I deleted his messages without reading them and blocked his number to prevent any more. Wiping away my tears, I contacted the resort’s front desk and made sure they wouldn’t give out my name, contact info, or room number under any circumstances.
Then I opened the first of several Peronis that night and curled up clutching my pillow to cry myself out.
***
Over the next two days, I spent too much time dwelling on what had happened with Holden and how it made me feel. While there’s nothing wrong with casual sex with strangers, with no connections other than the then-and-there physical side and no strings afterward, for a lot of people (including my sister), I’d now confirmed it wasn’t for me. I needed to relax, to quit thinking of Holden, of Bart, and of declaring a Sophie disaster and heading home early, which, with the Peroni all gone, led to a glass of wine on Wednesday evening (followed soon thereafter by the rest of the bottle) and a major headache the following morning.
To make matters worse, Sue started sending text messages, asking about my count. She’s my sister and I love her dearly but I really, really hate her sometimes, too. Like Holden, I ignored her messages and didn’t respond. Unlike Holden though, I couldn’t block her number and her messages kept piling up.
I swore off men and booze for the rest of the trip around noon on Thursday when I started feeling human again. I did some more online research, but decided I really needed to get out. Wanting to do something different and take my mind off my troubles, I went back online, this time looking at local attractions that might be a fun getaway for a few hours.
First, I checked out Moody Gardens, a great attraction where Mom and Dad had taken us when we were young. However, on seeing the price of admission, I decided to skip it and save my money for my weekend plans. I could feel quite moody enough without paying that much for it.
Instead of doing that, I walked to the Galveston pier late that afternoon and saw some of the attractions without spending too much, and on Friday I spent most of the afternoon at the Bryan Museum, which featured Texas history and information and artifacts from the old west. It had opened since our last family trip some years ago so I took my time looking at things; that it was quite interesting, air conditioned, and relatively cheap made for a great afternoon.
I considered hitting the Galveston Railroad Museum, too, not because I was a train buff but because it had always been one of Dad’s favorite stops when we came to the beach. He always had a family train layout that each of us kids contributed to over the years. I’d built a house, a store, and a number of trees as well as helping Dad paint some rail cars. When he died, Deke and Wally lost interest and the layout sat collecting dust for a while before Mom donated it to the orphanage over in Lesterville. When she did, I kept one of Dad’s locomotives, one of the train cars I painted, and the little house I built. They’re in my curio cabinet at home, very happy memories of times spent with him.
In the end, thinking about it made me sad so I skipped the trains.
***
Saturday, July 9th
Thus, over a period of a few days, I confirmed to myself that Sue’s way was nothing like my way and that her way hadn’t made me happy in the least. Her continued stream of messages didn’t help either, even though I continued ignoring them.
The rest of my trip would be spent getting some rays and reading a good book. I’d picked up a copy of Allison Daniela Brady’s new book before leaving home; my love life sucked but that didn’t mean that I couldn’t read about somebody who might get a happy ending. Mom’s skimpy bikini went back in my duffel bag, too, not to be seen any more on this or probably any other trip ever again.
Therefore, I packed my little cooler on Saturday morning and, wearing dark shades and my favorite one-piece bathing suit, headed back to the beach for my first visit since Tuesday. It was cut low enough to show some cleavage but not so low as to threaten to show my belly button like some that I’d seen. The back covered my butt pretty well, too, unlike the hot pink thing.
Bart and I had two chairs and a beach umbrella as part of our package so the empty chair had come in handy when Holden was around, but not so much otherwise. I’d lost track of how many guys had sat down in the empty chair when they stopped to speak with me, but now I just wanted to be left alone. I dragged the second chair back to the resort hut, only to receive a strange look from the kid manning it when I turned it in.
“Is something wrong with it?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I replied, “it attracts bums and no-accounts.”
With only one chair, I was left in peace for the most part, spending some time lying out on my little blanket getting some rays and a lot more sitting in the chair in the shade of the umbrella staying cool. The wind was off the water, making it feel sort of cool even though the temperature was actually well above 90. I read for a while, took a nap, walked, rested, and generally just relaxed and enjoyed myself for the first time since I’d arrived.
Early that evening as I and most of the last of the beachgoers were packing up to go, I saw a dad and two little kids coming out to set up on the beach. The little girl, maybe five or six, was really darling, with her blonde hair pulled back in a high ponytail and wearing a little two-piece bathing suit. She was as cute as a button but board thin.
As soon as she had her flip flops off, she was running toward the surf with her dad yelling after her. A second later and looking more than a little harried, he scooped up the little boy, another cutie, probably about 3 or 4, and took off running after her. As white as they all were, I suspected they’d just arrived at the resort and that the mom was upstairs taking a much-needed nap after a long ride in the car.
That’s how my parents sometimes handled it before our four youngest brothers came along, anyway. After that, both parents were needed for supervision and it was only when Sue finally married and Ronny and I were almost grown that they ever got a break.
I smiled at the memory, finished gathering up my things, and headed inside with a smile.
***
Sunday, July 10th
Putting my troubles of the past few days behind me, I had a good run along the beach to see another sunrise, seeing it as a symbol for a chance at a new beginning. The rest of my trip would be fun, relaxing, and all-around better, just like I hoped my life would be.
When I went out on the beach a bit later, the second chair, the one I’d struggled so hard to return, was back, right beside my chair as before. I barely squelched the urge to say a bad word, but that led to a good chuckle. None of it mattered, not my efforts to return it, nor whether some uncouth idiot decided to grace me with his presence. I’d leave the chair, ignore all idiots, swear off the curse words (as much as possible), and relax. After all, relaxation was what I’d originally come for.
That and a good tan.
A little while later, I was lying out flat on my back on my beach blanket getting my first round of sun for the day when I heard a noise and some sand kicked up on me.
“What?” I asked, raising my head up and putting on my sunglasses to see what was happening.
A little girl—the one from the previous evening, I suddenly realized—came running up and stopped just short of me looking a little nervous. Her hair was up in a ponytail like before but this time she was wearing a one-piece floral swimsuit.
“Excuse me. Can I have our frisbee, please?”
Looking over, I saw that her frisbee must have been what threw the sand on me; it had landed right next to the edge of my blanket.
“Hi, sweetie, of course you can,” I replied. “Did your family just get her last night?”
She nodded.
“Have you been to the beach before?”
Her head shook this time and I noticed she was already getting a little pink. Holding the frisbee out, I said, “Well, I hope you’ll have a great time but you’re on the verge of getting a sunburn. If you do, it can hurt, so get your mommy or your daddy to put more sunscreen on you, okay?”
She stared at me, biting her lower lip. I looked over and suddenly realized that I didn’t see her mom again this morning.
“What’s wrong, sweetie? Is your mommy feeling bad and staying in the room?”
The little girl’s head dropped, her eyes staring down at her feet, and I thought she was about to cry.
“No, my mommy’s in heaven.”
My heart dropped, seemingly about ten feet into the ground, and tears sprang to my eyes. I felt so horrible, so small and insignificant for hurting that little girl, that I felt like I could pull the hole in on top of myself like in one of those old Looney Toons-type cartoons and disappear. Unfortunately, there was no hole and I wasn’t in a cartoon.
She started crying, so I was up like a shot to my knees and pulled her into my arms, patting her back, saying, “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,” over and over again.
The dad had been watching us from a distance all that time, keeping a close watch on her, but as soon as I moved and started hugging her, he scooped up the little boy in one arm and started sprinting toward me. I kept my eyes on him, allowing him to see that I knew the connection between them as I patted her back, trying to comfort her and nodded to him when he pulled up to a stop.
“Sweetheart, your daddy’s—”
“What’s going on here?” he demanded, quietly but with authority, clearly interested in protecting his child being held by a complete stranger.
Trying to fight off my own tears over what I’d done to her, I looked up at him and replied, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”
His concern was still there but when he heard my comment, a strange, questioning look settled on his face, so I mouthed silently, Her mother.
The tenseness eased from his face and he seemed to slump as he gave a nod, suddenly understanding her behavior. He dropped to his knees behind her and put the boy on the ground but held onto him. “Eighteen months ago,” he whispered, “but it’s still like it was yesterday. And even worse for her than…”
He nodded to the little boy, leading me to guess that the child didn’t remember enough about his mom for it to have affected him like the girl.
I’m sure the man would have taken her but she was holding me tight and I was holding her back, still rubbing her back and now whispering, “It will be okay. It’s gonna be okay.”
She finally nodded but didn’t let go, so I asked in a very soft voice, “What’s your name, sweetheart?”
“Trixie,” she whispered.
“That’s a lovely name, Trixie. My name’s Sophie, and it’s very nice to meet you.”
“Trixie, you need to let Miss Sophie go now so we can go back over to our play area and let her get back to what she was doing,” her dad said. “And Sophie, thank you.”
“I’m sorry,” I said to him this time. “And Trixie, maybe I’ll see you again tomorrow if you’re still here.”
“Good,” she replied with a smile, suddenly almost as happy as she’d been sad just seconds before. “See you tomorrow, Sophie!”
She squeezed my neck again, I gave her one back, and then she let go and took her dad’s hand. He said “Thank you” to me as they turned and walked away.
***
Not able to concentrate, I went back inside for a while, did some research, and wrote down a list of questions. After lunch, I made my way to the local riding stable where I’d booked an appointment several weeks earlier to ride on the beach in the waves. This, I believed, would be the highlight of my trip.
I was the only single in our group; three couples and two families made up the rest, so Mark, the male guide who was roughly my age, made it a point to have me in front of the group with him so I’d “have company.” The female guide in the back, probably in her mid-twenties, glared at him when he said it, but I went along with it so I could hear everything he said as he told us about the area and so I could ask questions, too.
My horse was a cream-color mare with a white blaze and white front socks; she was beautiful and reasonably well-mannered, reminding me of the mare I’d often ridden as a teenager on my grandparents’ farm near Creek City. Once I was in the saddle and she saw that I knew what I was doing and wouldn’t jerk her around like some of the new riders, we had a great time together.
It was a wonderful ride, feeling the horse beneath me and splashing through the waves. When Mark saw that several of us were experienced riders, he let us have some leeway on the gait, getting up to a good trot for a short distance before calling us to a stop so the group of walkers could catch up.
While I wanted to keep going for miles, it was over before long, and I climbed down to let the stable boy take my mare. Mark was there then.
“Did you have a nice time, Sophie?”
“Yes, very nice, Mark. Thank you. If you have any slots open, I’m considering another ride later in the week.”
“We’d love to have you come back,” he said with a smile. “And, ah, say, since you’re going to be here for a few days, would you like to have dinner with me one night?”
“Ah, Mark, ahem…”
Not wanting to reveal too much about myself, particularly after I’d spilled my guts to Holden despite Sue’s earlier advice, I went with the basic truth without adding any details. “My life’s really complicated right now so…I’m sorry, I don’t think it would be a good idea.”
To my surprise, he nodded. “Sorry to hear that but hope you get things figured out soon. And we really would be glad to have you come on another ride if you want to schedule.”
He gave me a little smile and started to step away but I called after him, “Mark?”
“Yeah?”
I wasn’t sure if I should say anything but he seemed like a nice guy and maybe I’d have enjoyed an evening with him under other circumstances so maybe I could help him. “Have you, ah, thought about asking out our female guide? The way she looked at you, I’m not sure but I think she might say yes if you did.”
He looked at me and then laughed. “I don’t think so. She always gives me those strange looks; she’s my sister.”
For the second time that day, I needed that cartoon hole to climb into!
***
I didn’t want to leave the resort for dinner that night and couldn’t stand the thought of eating in my room for yet another evening. In addition, I also ruled out the resort’s upscale restaurant and the nightclub; having put the experience with Holden behind me, I didn’t want anything else like that on my conscience.
Therefore, I went to dinner at the resort’s family restaurant, a safe, friendly option that had some reasonable choices that wouldn’t break the bank if I didn’t go overboard. Unfortunately, I’d barely sat down when I had to wave off a guy who thought it his duty to rescue me from dining alone. I finally convinced him that “not interested” really means that and then had to do it all over again when Savior Number 2 showed up.
Unlike the first guy, he wouldn’t take a hint or then a direct decline to his offer, and I was becoming concerned that I’d have to call the manager, or maybe even the cops.
“There’s no need for you to eat alone, Honey, or to do anything else alone this evening for that matter,” he said.
He was reminding me of Holden and the subtle little hints he’d dropped that I’d missed or ignored. That wouldn’t happen again, I decided. “Listen, I’m not Honey, Dear, Sugar, Sweetheart, or anything else like that.” Lowering my voice to a whisper, I added more forcefully, “I’m not Bitch, Cunt, Whore, or anything like those, either. What I am, mister, is not interested, got it?”
“Oh, don’t be like that—”
I tuned out the rest, though I’m pretty sure he used one or two of the nastier terms I’d already disclaimed. Manager it was, I decided, so I looked around to find him only to see a little blonde streak barreling toward me.
“Sophie!” she squealed.
“Trixie!” I replied, ignoring my suitor as steadfastly as Penelope with her loom did with her passel, and hugged her tight to me. The man must have been as allergic to kids as a vampire to holy water for he suddenly took the hint and scampered away without another word.
I let Trixie go and looked at her to say, “Where’s your—”
“Hi,” he said, coming up behind her. “I’m Aaron, Aaron Tucker, Trixie’s, and Elysha’s, dad.”
“I’m Sophie,” I replied, biting off Woodruff just before it could slip out, as I shook his extended hand. It was warm and nice, and I realized we were still holding hands a second or two later. Releasing, I suddenly asked, “Ahem, would you all like to join me?”
“Please, Daddy?” begged Trixie, “Can we eat with Sophie?”
He looked hesitant so I glanced at Trixie and said, “Please? I’d enjoy eating with my favorite girl.”
He hesitated for a moment, probably debating inside, before nodding. “Okay, if you’re sure it’s okay.”
Moments later, Aaron, Trixie, and Elysha were around the table with me and my self-appointed saviors stopped arriving.
Trixie, it turned out, had just turned six. “I’ll be in 1st grade soon. Elysha will be four—when, Daddy?”
“July 30.”
“He’ll be in Pre-K when he’s four. How old are you, Sophie?”
“Beatrix Tucker!” exclaimed her dad with a laugh. “You don’t ask an adult that, Sweetie. Let’s quit asking Sophie so many questions, okay?”
I smiled and said, “No harm done,” but was sort of happy that it allowed us to enjoy the rest of the wait for our meals in relative peace without forcing me to spill any of my secrets.
Still, polite discussion continued. Aaron volunteered that he was an architect at some point in the evening and was about to say more when I stopped him.
“Aaron, can we speak privately for a second?”
It was probably a strange request so his look wasn’t too surprising but he agreed. After telling the kids, “Stay still and stay put, we’ll be right over there and will be back in a second,” we stepped over to where he indicated.
“Aaron, it’s probably going to sound silly, but I don’t want to tell you any specifics about myself and don’t want you to tell me anything like that either.”
“You’re right. It does sound silly,” he agreed with a laugh before turning serious. “Why?”
“It’s hard to explain, but I’m sort of in recovery mode, for lack of a better term, on this trip. I’m trying to have a good time in the moment but not have anything really serious on my mind when I go home in a few days.”
“Recovery mode?”
“Part of the specifics I don’t want to get into.”
“Gotcha. So would it be best if we just leave you alone?”
“No, I’m not saying that, but it would be better if we stay in the moment and be really casual friends without revealing too much about our backgrounds or ourselves. You and I both know that we’ll never see each other again after we leave this place, so what’s the purpose?”
He looked concerned but gave a little nod. “You want to be casual friends but not have any strings attached when you leave, even though nothing beyond the most casual imaginable has happened. If nothing does, no problem and it doesn’t matter anyway, but let’s assume for a moment that, somehow or another, some romantic interest pops up between us—oh, and for the record, I’ve just recently decided that I have to move on from my late wife so I could be open to that with the right person. In the case that we were to feel something, what you’re asking makes no sense, Sophie. The world’s changed, even since we were born. We have cell phones, text messages, email, and video calls. Going home doesn’t necessarily mean never seeing each other again and people are friends with people they’ve never even met in person from other countries.”
“But that’s long-distance, Aaron, I can’t deal with long-distance right now. And, let’s just say I’m afraid of letting myself get too close to anyone, to get too attached, which would defeat the purpose of my whole trip. Does that help?”
He huffed. “Hmmm. Maybe a little, but not enough. Sophie, if it were just you and me, I’d be walking away right now despite how beautiful you are, but Trixie really likes you and wants to be your friend, so I’ll be your casual friend for her. Don’t hurt her, though, please. After her mom, she doesn’t need to deal with that again. And now, I need to get back to them because I think Elysha’s about to come out of that booster seat.”
Aaron was good to his word when we returned to the table, not giving too much specific information about them and not digging too much into mine. Our food arrived soon after, and we enjoyed our meal with polite discussion at times, relative silence at others, and Trixie’s normal chatter the other 90 percent of the time. Aaron reminded her not to talk with her mouth full, which worked, and then tried to stop her on several occasions, which didn’t. He finally gave up, letting her motor run, hoping, I think, that she’d run out of gas sooner or later.
Elysha was about to fall asleep in his booster seat and Trixie was yawning as we settled the bill. Aaron wanted to pay for mine but I wasn’t having it and it wasn’t long before the waitress arrived with split tickets. He paid by credit card while I put mine on my room charge, but I waited with them for Aaron’s card to come back.
“Sophie, so how long are you going to be around here?” he asked.
“I’ve already been here for a week so I’m leaving Saturday morning; it’s a two-day drive for me and I have to go back to work on Monday.” I realized as I said the last part that I was probably giving away too much by Sue’s standards and what I’d told him, but Aaron didn’t seem to question it and I followed up with, “What about you guys?”
“Sunday for us,” he said. “Just a one-day drive home, and back to work on Monday for me and Mrs. McInally, who normally takes care of the kids; this is her vacation, too. Speaking of the kids, have you done anything fun that they can do around here other than the beach or things at the resort?”
I smiled. “Actually, yes.” I mentioned a couple of places I’d visited plus Moody Gardens. Then I added, “My favorite was today, and there were parents there with kids smaller than yours. There’s a riding stable nearby where you can ride horses on the—”
“Horses! Can we, Daddy? Can we?” Trixie, who’d been yawning like crazy, was suddenly wide awake again and she succeeded in waking Elysha. She was so excited I knew this was something that Aaron would definitely want to do, so I pulled out my phone to get the information for him.
“I’m sorry, Sweetie, but we can’t. You’d both have to ride with someone and I can’t carry you both.”
It struck me then that he was exactly right. Elysha was definitely too small and none of the kids on the ride earlier in the day had been anywhere close to being as small as Trixie unless they were riding with a parent. I felt so bad when she slumped down in response to his rejection. Maybe it was that disappointment that she was feeling or perhaps it was my own for getting her hopes up before her dad dashed them, but something caused me to have an idea.
“Aaron, can I speak with you for a moment about another idea?” I asked.
He agreed, and, after telling the kids to stay put and stay quiet, we stepped back to our private discussion spot a few feet away.