“Only if you’re a bird. It’s more like thirty-five for those of us who drive,” Brooke said.
“I drive,” Christy muttered.
Brooke looked at her watch. “You need to go. We’ll hang out later. Did you bring your swimsuits?”
“Of course,” Christy said.
“We’ll come to your house when we get back,” I promised.
Brooke glanced at her family and then leaned close. “There’s… um… supposed to be a party on the beach tonight.”
“Ugh!” Christy said. “I don’t wanna talk about the beach.”
Brooke frowned, so I explained.
“And then you wouldn’t do anything after he left,” Christy accused.
“I gave my word.”
“Fine. But what if he does it again tonight?”
“Don’t tell him,” Brooke said. “Just say you’re going to hang out at my house. My whole family’ll be there.”
“Do you think it’ll work?” Christy asked.
“It’s worth a try,” I said, and Brooke nodded. I looked at my watch again.
“Yeah, you need to go.” Brooke hugged Christy and then me. Her body felt good in my arms, and she sighed without realizing it.
I grinned. “Yeah, me too.”
She flushed pink. Then she moistened her lips and looked at me from under her lashes.
Mr. Big reacted predictably.
“Uh-oh,” Christy said. “We need to go, before someone gets us in trouble.”
“Who, me?”
“No, him. We’ll see you later,” she said to Brooke.
* * *
Christy and I met her family for a late Father’s Day brunch, and Harry, Marianne, and the kids joined us. The Bali Hai was a tiki restaurant straight out of the fifties. The buffet was on the pricy side, but we were there for the atmosphere more than anything. Besides, Christy, Rich, and their mother ate enough for several people, so Harold definitely got his money’s worth. Afterward we lingered over mai tais and enjoyed the amazing views of San Diego Bay and the downtown skyline.
Harry, Marianne, and the kids said goodbye after an hour or so. Rich gave me a pointed look before he left as well. It was a silent reminder of our conversation in Knoxville. Christy and I were glad not to have a self-appointed chaperone but also a little confused about why he’d gone.
“We thought you could use a break,” Harold said as we walked out to the parking lot. “I told Rich I’d keep an eye on you.”
The women were far enough ahead that they couldn’t hear.
“Um… okay,” I said cautiously.
“So, while you’re out with Birdy tonight, just remember…”
I waited for him to finish, but he never did. “Remember what?” I said at last.
“I’m sorry, what were we talking about?”
“Nothing,” I chuckled.
“Right. Nothing.”
“And… um… thanks.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said.
Back at her parents’ house, Christy and I changed into comfortable clothes over our swimsuits, packed towels and a few other things in the beach bag, and slipped off to Brooke’s without any fuss. She and her family were in the middle of a game of Trivial Pursuit when we arrived.
“Fresh blood,” her father said.
“Watch out,” her sister warned, “he means that literally.”
“I concede,” Brooke said. She removed her piece from the board and dumped its five little wedges into the pile.
“But you were winning,” her father protested.
“I guess.” She shrugged and then smiled at Christy. “C’mon, I’ll grab my suit. We’ll meet you out there, Paul.”
“So,” her father said when the girls had gone, “Brooke tells us you’re studying to be an architect.”
I nodded, and we had a polite conversation about how I knew his daughter. Then he asked how I’d hurt my hand. I fibbed and told him an accident at the gym, which he accepted at face value. I wasn’t ashamed of the truth, but it was a longer story than I wanted to go into. I decided to change the subject anyway, so I asked about Brooke’s brother.
“He had to return to Austin,” his mother said. “He just started a new job.”
“Ah, okay. Well, it was nice to meet him.”
“He said the same about you.”
The girls returned.
“Ready to go?” Brooke said. She wore her wrap and carried a beach towel.
“Sure. Nice talking to you,” I told her family.
They collectively smiled and returned their attention to more important matters, like whose turn it was in the game. They weren’t New Yorkers, but they were surprisingly loud after the quiet conversation from a moment before.
“Sorry,” Brooke said as soon as I closed the patio door behind us. “They’ve been like that all weekend. They’re driving me nuts.”
“That’s what families are for,” I said. “You wanna hang out or go for a swim?”
“Swim, please,” Christy said immediately.
“What I really want is a drink,” Brooke said under her breath.
“Nervous?” I asked.
“A little, yeah.”
“Well, don’t be. Let’s just relax.”
She nodded and removed her wrap. Her bikini was blue and pink, with French-cut bottoms and a bandeau top. It was more conservative than the one from Easter, but she looked just as good in it. She blushed when she saw my expression.
“I should apologize now,” I said. “For anything Mr. Big says or does, especially when you look like that.”
“I told you,” Christy said to her.
“You too,” I added. “Between Rich and my hand, I haven’t been able to relieve any pressure all weekend.”
“Oh, you poor thing,” she mocked.
“Hey, two days is a long time.”
“Not really,” Brooke said.
“Are you kidding?” I shot back. “Have you ever gone two days without… you know?”
“Of course.”
“She’s lying,” Christy said immediately. “She probably did it last night.”
Brooke’s rosy cheeks were answer enough.
“She’s an evening person,” Christy added. “I’m a morning person.”
“Do you have to tell him all my dirty little secrets?” Brooke complained.
“What?” Christy said. “It’s natural. Everyone does it.”
“Yeah, but what would Sister Prune say?”
Christy made a comical horror face. “Oh no! Not Sister Prune! Ahhhhh!”
Brooke rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a grin.
“You love me,” Christy said. “You know you do.”
* * *
Brooke eventually relaxed as late afternoon turned to evening. Her family finished their game, and we ate dinner with them on the patio. Her sister had baked a big southwest casserole with Hatch chiles, and her mother threw together a salad to go with it. Her father opened several bottles of wine.
“To our last graduate,” he toasted, “and our next doctor.”
Brooke and Christy both grew a little flirty as dinner progressed and the wine flowed. I half-expected her parents to do the same, but they were quietly affectionate instead of showy about it. Her sister and brother-in-law didn’t drink much at all. They weren’t teetotalers, but neither of them had a second glass.
“I heard about a party tonight,” I said at last, if only to move things along, “on the beach. Are you girls interested?”
“Yeah!” Christy said immediately.
Brooke turned reluctant all of a sudden, and I wondered if I’d missed something.
“Go on,” her mother told her. “Have fun. Just you kids. Take a blanket and some wine.”
My eyebrows flew up before I could stop them. Her father missed it completely, but her mother picked up on my surprise.
“It’ll be your last chance,” she told her daughter, “before you’re too busy with your internship.”
Brooke nodded and glanced nervously my way.
“We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” I said.
“Of course she wants to,” Christy said. “Don’t you?”
“Go on, sweetheart,” her mother urged, “have fun with your friends.”
I heard something in her voice and wondered if she knew what we were planning. A party on the beach? A guy and two girls? A blanket and wine? It was too much like the setup for a Penthouse letter or a scene from a porn movie. She answered my probing look with a bland smile, and that convinced me. She knew.