This is my submission for the Summer Lovin' contest, I hope you enjoy. Like most family men, I have seen the way my wife and I vacation evolve from the honeymoon to a time with kids. This is a fantasy of how that evolution might be reversed in one fateful experience. I hope you enjoy and appreciate your votes.
Stories with similar names often involve step mothers and/or incest. If that is what you're looking for, you won't find it in my story.
~NCG
Family Vacation
"Checking in, reservation for Kincaid,"
"Yes, Mrs. Kincaid, welcome to the Grande Marine resort, how was your trip down?"
"Fine," came the response, but it had been far from fine. The reality was that eight hours in the minivan with boys ages 5 and 8 was never a good time. Then what was supposed to be a business call with Mandy driving and Matt on the phone became an in-depth contract-negotiating conference call requiring a two-hour stop at a rest area in West Virginia where she had to entertain her little guys while he ground it out. But it all got worse the last hour of the drive.
"Actually, one of my boys got sick in the van as we left the interstate," she said to the clerk. "Is there someplace we can do some emergency cleaning?"
"Of course, Mrs. Kincaid. There is a self-serve car wash just down the road. But there's a retired guy on the island, Walt, who does amazing detailing work. I have his card if you'd like it." Mandy nodded and the clerk dug through a drawer of cards until she found it.
The clock on the wall indicated it was just past 8 p.m. and she doubted he would answer. The thought of a pile of partially digested nuggets and fries sitting in the van overnight nearly overwhelmed her, but she was relieved when the call connected. He seemed to read her mind and offered to come pick up the van right away to get started.
They had just unloaded the last of their luggage from the van when a bright blue Audi two seat convertible pulled in. Mandy wasn't sure what she expected from a retired guy named Walt who cleaned puke out of tourists' vans, but she was surprised to see his lean, six-foot frame climb out of the car. She put him in his late 60s, with wavy salt and pepper hair just past his shirt collar.
"You're Mandy?" he asked as he walked over. "And this must be the vomit comet," patting the side of the van. He looked inside quickly, certainly not lingering in there. "Standard rate for something like this is $250. For that you'll get the current situation cleaned up, and the whole thing as clean as the day you drove it off the lot. I know $250 is no small change and you're already on vacation. Will that work for you?" His eyes showed a softness, he seemed genuinely concerned for them.
"I think we can do that," Matt said. "Seems a small price to pay to get our vacation back." They shook hands and Walt headed to the van.
He turned around abruptly. "If you just got into town, you probably need to do some shopping, right?" They nodded and he handed Mandy the keys to his Audi. Don't go too crazy shopping, this car wasn't designed for trunk space.
"Oh no, I couldn't possibly take your car," she offered feebly, remembering the massive shopping list in her purse.
"Of course you can, what else are you going to do? Your boys are going to need some chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast and the restaurant here at the resort is ridiculously overpriced. Take my car, get what you need, and I should have your van back around noon tomorrow." With that he drove off, the windows in the van open wide and his head, it seemed, poking out the side just a bit for some fresh air.
They agreed that Matt would get the boys settled while Mandy found a grocery store that was still open. A quick call to the front desk provided the location of a shopping area that would be open for several hours for groceries, beach needs anything else they might want.
# # # #
Mandy settled into the rich, luxurious leather seats of the Audi and for the first time felt like she was on vacation. Unlike many moms, she never complained about driving a minivan. But this, this was different. The seats hugged her frame and she enjoyed being in a car with no errant crayons under the seat or stickers on the back window. As she drove, her entire attitude and frame of mind seemed to turn, and it was then that she decided this would be a different kind of vacation.
Her first stop was the beach store. The former Kmart was now filled with beach towels, lawn chairs, coolers and anything else they could get a family on vacation to purchase. In a back corner were bathing suits and she was instantly drawn to a bright fuchsia bikini. It wasn't scandalously small, very appropriate for a family resort but much, much better than the gray and black one-piece that she had packed.
On her way to the register, she passed a display of denim cut off shorts, again shorter than anything she had packed. She grabbed a few in different colors and grabbed a couple of halter tops to go with them. A wispy thin white cover up completed her wardrobe purchases. The Hawaiian Tropic display had a large bottle of suntan oil. She hadn't used the oil in the sun for a decade or more, but sometimes it was just handy to have some oil, especially with the week that was beginning to take shape in her mind.
She left the store and headed to a dark corner of the parking lot. She took a thorough look around and got busy. Off went her t-shirt from last year's vacation and her bra and one of the halter tops went on. She stood behind the car and stripped off her gym shorts and panties and shimmied into a pair of the cutoffs, feeling the denim against her bare body. She wondered how long it had been since she'd gone commando and decided it was a depressingly long time. Mandy tossed everything in the trunk and got back in the car. Looking in the mirror, she let down her ever-present pony tail and let her strawberry blonde hair fall below her shoulders. She felt electric. Gone was the mom with the puke-filled van. She felt young, vibrant and oh so sexy.
She spent nearly an hour at the grocery store picking up supplies for the week. She caught more than her share of appreciative glances from both men and women, young and old. They say the sexiest thing about a woman is her confidence and she had confidence in spades. If pressed she might confess to wiggling a bit more than necessary going down some of the aisles or bending over to inspect something on a lower shelf based more on who else was in the area than her actual shopping needs.
She went through the check out and pushed the shopping cart to the car, feeling her breasts bounce gently in the loose top. As she was bent over putting the groceries in the trunk, she noticed a jeep full of college aged guys slow down as they went past. Her heart beat a bit faster.
