While we ate Elle proposed an itinerary that included visiting the most popular public beach (in Summer), two lighthouses, hopefully see the big ferry boat and then her father’s fishing boat. As soon as my girls heard the boat mentioned they let out a little scream of joy. Their grandfather’s boat was docked in the same town as the ice cream store owned and run by one of Elle’s high school classmates and every time they went to see the boat they got ice cream. It was a bit before 1pm before we were on our way. Arriving at the public beach I was sure Barbara was underwhelmed as there was almost no activity. We all got out and the girls ran Barbara down to the water’s edge. Upon their return I explained to Barbara that if this were an August Sunday we probably wouldn’t find a parking place. The next stop was what we ‘local’s’ called, the ”little“ lighthouse. It sat on a bluff and looked quite quaint up there. There was no public access and all it really was was a descriptive location. It hadn’t been manned since the end of WWII and now only a flashing beacon shown from it’s tower. The next stop was to be the lighthouse the locals referred to as ”the Point“.
When Elle and I were dating this was one of our favorite locations. You had to walk about a half mile to get to the place through soft sand. That, for many, was a deterrent and, for us meant ome privacy. In any case. The parking lot was the embarkation point for the ferry that went over to Connecticut. The fact that there were only two tractor trailers in line and no cars, even in the parking lot, told me we’d just missed the most recent ferry. The second point of concern was that the Snack Shack was closed. Elle, in her planning had counted on using it as a ‘rest stop’. I parked and walked over to the ticket office and the sign told the story. The ferry was now operating on it’s Winter schedule... three ferries a day. The time for the next arrival wasn’t until much later in the afternoon. The girls (Barbara included) were all for a walk on the beach and Elle, reluctantly agreed. I knew why she was hesitant but did a quick calculation and felt we could still go look at the lighthouse and make it back to the ice cream place without her having a problem.
Even though the water was cold the girls all insisted on taking their shoes off and walking/running along the water’s edge. It was actually easier walking down there where the sand, still wet from the ebbing tide, was somewhat firm. We got to the lighthouse and explained why it was there. It, like the ”little“ lighthouse was no longer manned and was just an electric light beacon. The house that the lighthouse keeper and his family lived in was still there but behind a chain link fence with barbed wire. As I remember it the round trip took almost an hour and on our way back to the station wagon our girls started chanting for ice cream. They could’ve cared less about their grandfather’s boat.
Approaching the parking lot I saw something I didn’t like... a flat tire. If it had been my car I wouldn’t have had a problem because I still had the tools, including a bottle jack, from my race car days in the trunk. I had no idea what kind of jack came with the wagon and wasn’t happy when I went to find out. It was a scissor jack. The instructions (yes, I did read them!) identified the points under the car for it to be placed. By then Elle was getting really concerned. I won’t go through the whole ‘process’ but it didn’t go smoothly. After the spare was in place I tried to get an idea of how Elle was doing and she refused to give me an indication. I knew she had on the dribble panties and a pair of sanitary ones over them but also knew if she had a ‘flood’ they’d be like Kleenex acting as a dam.
To get to the parking lot for the ice cream parlor we had to drive though another that was adjacent to where Elle’s father docked his boat. The girls had been there before and recognized it immediately, excitedly pointing the boat out to Barbara. After seeing it they wanted to stop but Elle said ”No“ and I knew why. They didn’t so they made a bit of a fuss even with ice cream only minutes away. After vacating the car we had to go down a small alley to get to Main Street (that’s really what it was called). Unfortunately, there was a string of cars coming and we were in the middle of the block so had to wait. One glance at Elle told me she wasn’t going to make it. When the last car passed I led the girls, rapidly, to the other side. Elle was taking her time. Stacy, the owner who’d been in Elle’s graduating class, recognized me and promptly attended to the wishes of the girls. Once up the steps and inside Elle slowly made her way to the ladies room and I watched her the whole way. I really couldn’t tell if she was going to make it or not.
After an extended period of time she finally exited and, to be truthful, I saw no wetness. As the girls devoured their ice cream I sidled over to Elle, who had chosen not to sit, and asked if she’d ”made it?“ Her answer was a short ”Sorta“. The tone of it told me not to go any further. Elle wanted to be home by 4pm to be able to be able to roast a chicken for supper so we didn’t stay all that long.
Pulling up the driveway I saw an unfamiliar car parked in front of the garage blocking my way in. As soon as I stopped two people got out and the one I could see didn’t make me happy. It was Mike, the blowhard phony who was married to Elle’s college roommate Nancy. Of course, the other party was Nancy. Elle bolted out of the wagon and ran to her. As she did I saw these two ”smiles“, one on each cheek on her pants. They ran from her crotch out and up towards her hips. Barbara had gotten out right behind her and there was no way she could miss seeing them as Elle and Nancy hugged. I looked at Barbara and wondered what she was thinking.
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| An example of "smiles" |
To be continued...
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