MOVING AHEAD... changes(Part 96d)


More background: As mentioned above, Dolly’s father held a prominent position in the news gathering world and among his friends were some famous news reporters and writers. One of them, upon seeing her right after her birth, said something along the lines of her ”She looks just like a doll“. The story I’d heard many times over was after that when her father would get home from work he’d call out ”Where’s my doll?“. Then, after seeing the Broadway musical The Matchmaker and seeing the character Dolly Levi the ”y“ was added and she became Dolly. Her given name was actually Elaine but she didn’t really know it until she was old enough to go to school.
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Walking in and seeing her was a bit awkward for me. Because of her parents friendship with my parents over the years I had watched her grow from a baby to a young woman but she was always in the background. Ten years younger, she’d never been involved with me or my friends when I’d lived at home although Elle had baby sat her a time or two. Since returning to the area any ”sightings“ of her been casual at best and it had easily been a couple of years since I’d been in a position to see her up close enough to talk to her. The thing that struck me the most was how tall she was. She was standing in the kitchen, hair wet and with a beach towel wrapped around her when I walked in. However, my focus was on getting help to ”rescue“ my boat so I pretty much ignored her and went looking for my father. We went over to the garage and while we were standing staring at the mess, a car pulled into the neighbors driveway. Upon seeing a rather large, white haired man get out my father commented that he was the new Summer renter for the house. The owner had taken a job in Michigan and, although initially planning on returning for the Summer, found that he and his family wouldn't be able to. Within minutes two other cars pulled into the same driveway.

Long story short (yet again)... the older man, Big Al, a retired city fireman, had rented the house so his daughters (Karen and Jeanette) and their spouses and kids would have a Summer at the beach. I couldn’t believe my eyes as I watched the cars empty out. It was the answer to my problem. There were two guys who appeared to be my age. They say timing is everything and their arrival was perfect. After introductions I helped them unload their cars and they reciprocated by helping, with difficulty, move the boat.

Once that was done I wanted a chance to look at the women (naturally). Jeannette was blonde and about 5’ 3” tall. There didn’t appear to be much “on top” but she had a nice figure from there on down. I remember her shorts being both that and tight. Karen was at least 5’9“ tall if not more and was a brunette. For two who were supposed to be sisters there wasn’t anything that would indicate that as fact. The clothes that Karen was wearing were very loose so there was no way to tell how well she was endowed... if at all. Jeanette had two young boys and, naturally, the first thing they wanted to do was to go swimming. The oldest, who looked to be the same age as my Jean, had run right down to the beach and his mother had allowed him to go right in, clothes and all. One thing led to another and Jeannette ended up getting splashed. After a short time she’d just flopped down into the water herself.

I wasn’t there to witness that but I was the beneficiary of her actions after she walked around the back of the house. It seemed to me that her already tight shorts had shrunk while still on her because I could see the indication of elastic for the leg openings of her panties as she walked by. I fully expected that she would change her clothes but the only change I saw was that instead of a blouse she was now wearing a bandeaux. (I didn’t know that’s what it was called back then) I’d hoped to see her wet panties hanging on the clothes line before I left but had to settle on looking at her wet shorts instead.

My mother, always ”social“, made up some snacks for them to hold them over until supper. She insisted that I join in and I got to learn a little about all of them. By the time we finished I felt like I’d known them for years. I liked them and was anxious to bring Elle and the kids back to meet them. Needless to say, by the time I had the trailer ready for the boat and the boat over to the sailing club I was way late in getting home. I’d called to warn Elle and then my mother called when I left to back me up. The only thing that ”saved“ me was in telling her I’d met some nice young people with kids, (even though they were boys) and wanted her to meet them.

We’d gotten an appointment for Elle to see the urologist on that Tuesday afternoon. I would’ve thought that she would be excited in a positive way but all she did was fret the whole way in. Because she’d been a patient before the Doctor had a benchmark to work with. The whole afternoon was taken up with different tests, primarily to measure Elle’s bladder capacity and to see just how much liquid would cause her to ”spill“ (the term the urologist used). I didn’t see Elle for over two hours and when she was done we both met with the Doctor. She wasn’t ready to give us her final diagnosis as she still needed to see the x-rays. She told us that, preliminarily, it appeared that the muscles that held her bladder in place had either weakened or partially torn allowing it to drop so that the neck of it was ”spilling“ before the bladder filled. We already knew Elle’s bladder capacity was reduced because of scar tissue build up from when she’d had a severe bladder infection as a girl. That, added to the lowered neck was what was causing the almost constant ”dribbling“. Now we just had to wait. It wasn’t easy.

To be continued...