the silence went on too long.
“And the next thing I know, I’m ratting him out over his complaint about the dock.” She flopped onto herback and drummed the fingers of her free hand on her stomach. “As if I hadn’t already told him exactly what the deal was.”
“That was mature.”
“Tell me about it. I looked even more adult when J.D. told them, cool as you please, that while I had explained the arrangement, he still felt there should be a sign spelling out the exact rules and regulations, with a warning that swimmers proceed at their own risk.”
“I, uh, hate to say this, cookie, but that’s not such a bad idea.”
“I know,” Dru agreed glumly. “Ben and Sophie thought it was brilliant, for legal purposes if nothing else. So naturally J.D. came off looking all grown-up and rational, while I looked like the whiny little stool pigeon I was.” Her heels hung over the edge of the window seat and she toed off her flip-flops. “It didn’t help that I wasn’t wearing any underwear.”
“Why, did he stare at your boobs or something?” Char’s sigh filtered down the line. “I wish someone would stare at mine, but some of us are more mammary-challenged than you well-endowed types.”
Dru made a rude noise. “And when we’re both sixty, yours will still be perky, while mine will probably be down around my knees. My heart bleeds for you.”
“ Did he stare at ’em?”
“No, it wasn’t that. I doubt he even noticed. It was more—I don’t know—he was so together, and my hair was wet, my boobs kept shifting back and forth every time I breathed , and my big butt was spread out all over the chair.”
“Stop that. I should be so lucky as to have enough boob to shift, and your butt is not big.”
“Well, it sure felt that way without my undies. I felt vulnerable, okay? Kind of an awake version of that caught-naked-in-public dream. I could have used the armor of my silkies and a blow-dryer.”
“I understand that. For me, it’s lipstick. Give me a tube of Estée Lauder, and I can face just about anything. But what about him? What kind of underwear do you suppose he wears? Tightie-whities or boxers?”
“My guess would be none.”
“Oooh,” Char breathed. “Ya think?”
“If his attitude is anything to go by. He acts like such a swinging dick, you’d think he has to kick it out of his way with every step he takes.”
“Damn. But, Drusie, if you don’t think he was wearing any underwear, either, shouldn’t that have you feeling less uncomfortable?”
“No, it’s that attitude thing again. I felt big and blowzy. He was probably busy congratulating himself on what a big one he has.”
“I have got to meet this guy. You think he might need a massage?”
“His ego sure as hell doesn’t. But I imagine you’re talking about a real massage, right?” Which Char provided at the lodge four days a week.
Char’s voice sounded wistful. “It’d sure be nice to deal with some real muscle for a change. All I’ve gotten lately is soft tourist bodies.”
“Well, hey, who knows? He’d probably eat it up with a spoon, the way he did the crème brûlée, so if you wanna take a run at him, be my guest.”
“You know better than that, Dru.”
Dru stared at the receiver with blank surprise. She and Char had made a pact back in junior high school never to horn in on the other’s relationship with a guy—and panic bloomed that her best friend thought that was what J.D. had the potential to be. “It’s not like that!”
“Uh-huh.”
“It’s not, Char. I don’t even like him.”
“Yeah, that must be why your heart pounds every time he’s around, huh? Dislike.”
“Dammit, Char,” she began in exasperation, but a sleepy voice interrupted her.
“Mom?”
She sat up, peering around at Tate, who stood ruffle-haired in the doorway. “Hey, baby, what are you doing up?”
“Gotta go?” Char inquired. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”
Dru turned off the phone and, getting up, set
“And the next thing I know, I’m ratting him out over his complaint about the dock.” She flopped onto herback and drummed the fingers of her free hand on her stomach. “As if I hadn’t already told him exactly what the deal was.”
“That was mature.”
“Tell me about it. I looked even more adult when J.D. told them, cool as you please, that while I had explained the arrangement, he still felt there should be a sign spelling out the exact rules and regulations, with a warning that swimmers proceed at their own risk.”
“I, uh, hate to say this, cookie, but that’s not such a bad idea.”
“I know,” Dru agreed glumly. “Ben and Sophie thought it was brilliant, for legal purposes if nothing else. So naturally J.D. came off looking all grown-up and rational, while I looked like the whiny little stool pigeon I was.” Her heels hung over the edge of the window seat and she toed off her flip-flops. “It didn’t help that I wasn’t wearing any underwear.”
“Why, did he stare at your boobs or something?” Char’s sigh filtered down the line. “I wish someone would stare at mine, but some of us are more mammary-challenged than you well-endowed types.”
Dru made a rude noise. “And when we’re both sixty, yours will still be perky, while mine will probably be down around my knees. My heart bleeds for you.”
“ Did he stare at ’em?”
“No, it wasn’t that. I doubt he even noticed. It was more—I don’t know—he was so together, and my hair was wet, my boobs kept shifting back and forth every time I breathed , and my big butt was spread out all over the chair.”
“Stop that. I should be so lucky as to have enough boob to shift, and your butt is not big.”
“Well, it sure felt that way without my undies. I felt vulnerable, okay? Kind of an awake version of that caught-naked-in-public dream. I could have used the armor of my silkies and a blow-dryer.”
“I understand that. For me, it’s lipstick. Give me a tube of Estée Lauder, and I can face just about anything. But what about him? What kind of underwear do you suppose he wears? Tightie-whities or boxers?”
“My guess would be none.”
“Oooh,” Char breathed. “Ya think?”
“If his attitude is anything to go by. He acts like such a swinging dick, you’d think he has to kick it out of his way with every step he takes.”
“Damn. But, Drusie, if you don’t think he was wearing any underwear, either, shouldn’t that have you feeling less uncomfortable?”
“No, it’s that attitude thing again. I felt big and blowzy. He was probably busy congratulating himself on what a big one he has.”
“I have got to meet this guy. You think he might need a massage?”
“His ego sure as hell doesn’t. But I imagine you’re talking about a real massage, right?” Which Char provided at the lodge four days a week.
Char’s voice sounded wistful. “It’d sure be nice to deal with some real muscle for a change. All I’ve gotten lately is soft tourist bodies.”
“Well, hey, who knows? He’d probably eat it up with a spoon, the way he did the crème brûlée, so if you wanna take a run at him, be my guest.”
“You know better than that, Dru.”
Dru stared at the receiver with blank surprise. She and Char had made a pact back in junior high school never to horn in on the other’s relationship with a guy—and panic bloomed that her best friend thought that was what J.D. had the potential to be. “It’s not like that!”
“Uh-huh.”
“It’s not, Char. I don’t even like him.”
“Yeah, that must be why your heart pounds every time he’s around, huh? Dislike.”
“Dammit, Char,” she began in exasperation, but a sleepy voice interrupted her.
“Mom?”
She sat up, peering around at Tate, who stood ruffle-haired in the doorway. “Hey, baby, what are you doing up?”
“Gotta go?” Char inquired. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”
Dru turned off the phone and, getting up, set
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