A warm morning toward the end of June finds my girlfriend Katherine and me at the Sayville dock waiting to board the Cherry Grove ferry, one of 4 departing for Fire Island. The sun is still fairly low over the eastern horizon. My cell phone clock registers 8 55. The thermometer registers 85 degrees. There is very little breeze.
This long awaited vacation will take us away from the workplace for a week. At age 30 I am a corporate lawyer with a Manhattan based firm located at Rockerfella Plaza. Katherine, age 31, is a nurse practitioner specializing in cardiology at Mount Sinai.
I'm wearing a white off-the-shoulder ruffle top with flutter sleeves, light-blue jean shorts, and flip flops, a far cry from my customary pencil-skirt suit set and pumps. Kate is also wearing shorts but with MULTI color cropped-cami top and flip flops. We are each pushing a foldable luggage cart carrying one suitcase.
We are standing amid a dockside crowd of about 200, give or take a few. Kate made an observation about our destination.
"At its western end the island is not even two miles off the mainland."
I added to her remark. "It almost touches the Hamptons."
"I can't wait to get there."
Cherry Grove is a well-known LGBTQ haunt that could make both of daydream about being there. A year ago on the night we met at Henrietta Hudson in West Village Kate had mentioned that a stay on Fire Island would be "great fun", just not by herself. As the ferry boat closes the distance to the barrier island, our dream vacation, nothing could spoil the day or change our good mood.
We are disembarking, finally. The Grove Hotel, a single-story building roughly halfway across the island, awaits us. We're in no rush so we walk southward at a leisurely pace.
"Let's just relax," I said as we come into our room.
I rolled my luggage cart to a spot against the wall and sat on the edge of the bed closest to the window. Having left her suitcase next to mine, Kate took a seat beside me on the edge of the bed. She turned to look into my eyes. A stare gave way to a passionate open-mouth kiss.
"Shall we go for a swim?"
"The pool or the beach," I asked.
"We'll flip a coin. Call it in the air. I'll take heads."
"I forgot my special coin, the one with 'tails' on both sides."
Kate laughed and punched my arm.
We stripped down to our bikinis under our clothes and dashed to the water. Passing the breakers, we slowed to a walk. The swell glided past our boobs.
Kate's elegant vase-shaped body with its 32C bust and wide hips, slim thighs and long gradually curving waist holds my gaze.
She tilts her head down pressing her lips onto mine encouraging me to drag a finger down her torso to her navel then to her bikini bottom.
"Not here," she said softly.