The sand was cooling beneath her feet. The hottest May day she could recall was fading into early evening and the young brunette's wide smile had hardly left her face since her feet had hit the floor that morning. For much of the day, she'd been sharing her good cheer with her crew, but they had long since headed back to their houses or cottages in and around Halifax to get set for the night out. Not her. Mother Nature had given her the type of afternoon that she couldn't get enough of, and this was her favorite part of the day. There would be plenty of time later for shooters with the girls while inhaling their cigarette smoke. Until then, she'd be taking in fresh air.
She closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath. This time of day, the air always carried with it the traces of salt water, diesel oil from boat engines and barbecuing meat; the smells of summer. She loved Long Lake Park both because it was so close to civilisation and because, with a little effort, you could completely remove yourself from it. The brunette dropped her sandals and stepped into them, hardly missing a step. She and her friends had spent the entire day at the populated end of the park and she just wanted an hour or so of seclusion before a night at the Lower Deck or the Dome or Reflections, or whatever other meat market was on the agenda.
As she walked toward the more remote side of the peninsula she checked her bag. Her "safety pack" consisted of a flashlight, her nearly fully charged phone, a warm change of clothes and a cosy blanket. She knew the place like the back of her hand, but she didn't want to be stupid and get caught in the dark and/or the night's chilly air.
After 15 minutes or so, the trail opened into a short stretch of pretty beach, wide open to the last of the day's rays. The trees and thrushes created long, thin fingers of shadows reaching out into the water as if trying desperately to hold on to a day rapidly coming to an end. The young brunette decided she would walk the 500 yards or so to the far end of the line of sand and enjoy the view of the bay for as long as time allowed. As she approached the corner that signified a dead end, she saw a figure sitting in the sand hugging her knees to her chest.
From afar, it looked to be a beautiful young woman sporting a bikini. The brunette raised her eyebrows in surprise. She reached into her side pocket and groped around inside her make-up bag for a mirror. "No sense meeting someone interesting and regretting not getting yourself together first," she thought. Peering into her reflection, she first made sure her hair was in place. It was straight, jet-black and chin-length and she was fond of her layered cut and how it framed her face. She boasted beautiful brown eyes and big full lips that spread into an unforgettable smile. Her high cheekbones and dark complexion gave her an exotic appearance that contradicted her purely Caucasian heritage.
Assured her face and hair were free of sand and seaweed,she straightened out her outfit and set off. Her black triangle bikini top hugged her perky breasts sitting up high on her chest. Over her bikini bottoms, she had thrown on her tight-as-second-skin, bum-hugging yoga shorts. She loved how they felt when she walked, but also loved the ego boost she got watching heads turn to gaze at her walking away. Someday, she even planned to wear them to a yoga class. As she moved toward the woman, she brushed sand off of her taut and toned upper body and her lithe, lightly muscled legs. She smiled to herself confidently and hoped the stranger was beautiful and receptive.
As she approached, the figure suddenly turned, obviously startled. She let out a short, high-pitched yelp, then fell back on her towel, laughing. "I'm sorry, you just scared the hell out of me! I didn't mean to be so dramatic."
The young girl stopped in her tracks. The voice was distinctive and familiar. "Mrs. Garraway?? Is that you?"
The blonde woman squinted in her direction. Then she dropped her jaw. "Kayla? Oh my god, I haven't seen you in so long!" She just stared momentarily as if in shock, then gave her head a quick shake. "Well gosh, come here," she exclaimed, popping to her feet and extending her arms. She embraced Kayla warmly....so to speak.
Kayla suddenly felt a chill all over. She pushed the older woman away and rubbed her arms. "Mrs. Garraway, you're freezing! Did you not bring anything else to wear?"
Mrs. Garraway scanned Kayla from head to toe. "What, and you're dressed for winter?"
Kayla laughed. "Mrs. G, I've been hiking, not sitting here letting the breeze turn me into an icicle."
The older woman shrugged her shoulders and hugged her arms. "Guilty as charged. It was so nice today I couldn't tear myself away, even after my friends took off."
Kayla smiled and nodded. "Oh no need to explain that." She gestured behind her, grinning. "Check out my posse that tagged along."
Mrs. Garraway laughed. "Ahhh, let me guess. A night out at the Liquor Dome awaits?" The blonde was shaking and rubbing her hands together now.
Kayla laughed and set down her bag. "You got it Mrs. G. Now, sit down and take these." She produced a fitted pink jacket and the blanket from her pack.
"Kayla, if that's your jacket, there is no way I'm fitting in it," giggled the blonde woman. "But I will take the blanket." She bent over to straighten out her towel and sat back down. Kayla shook her head. Mrs. Garraway was being modest about fitting into her clothes. She did some quick math in her head and calculated her age to be roughly 45. Nonetheless, she doubted many women over 25 could get away with the bikini she was rocking. You couldn't bounce a quarter off her stomach anymore, and there were some minor stretch marks, but Kayla found it lovely. Her beauty was all natural. Real. And real was always more attractive. She had an easy, comely smile and dimpled cheeks that made her look 10 years younger. Her light blue eyes and beautiful blonde curls added to her youthful appearance.
If there was a spot where Mrs. G. might have a point about the jacket, it was the chest area. Kayla's perky 34Cs were no match for what the young girl imagined to be DDs at least. What little droop age had brought about was hardly visible and left her with curves a woman of any age would die for.
"What are you waiting for, throw me that blanket." The older woman grinned up at Kayla and snatched it. "Brrrrrr!" she exclaimed, quickly unfurling the warm linen fabric and pulling it up to her chin. She patted the spot next to her, encouraging Kayla to sit.
Suddenly, Mrs. Garraway's texting tone pierced the silence and both women jumped with surprise. Giggling, the blonde woman turned onto her stomach and grabbed it. The blanket was hooked on her feet and it rolled with her, exposing her body to the air once again. Kayla gazed at her lower half and just shook her head again. Mrs. G's bum was still high and round, and her legs were long and slim. Throw in the tight bikini bottoms with the flirty ties on either side and Kayla was convinced she'd have a tough time telling her apart from most of her 19 and 20-something beach buddies from behind.
"Kayla, have a seat." The younger girl was snapped out of her trance and saw that Mrs. Garraway was holding out her cell phone and covering herself once again in the blanket. Kayla quickly threw on her jacket, lay next to the older woman on the towel and grabbed the phone. The name on the text read "Favechild1". Kayla laughed and turned to Mrs. G.
"So Kyle is Favechild2?"
"That would cause too many problems. No, he's bestkid1."
"If I know Jessie, and I do; she wishes that there WAS a competition and SHE was Favechild1. It would mean she was winning something."
Mrs. G's omnipresent smile only grew wilder. "You DO know Jessie. And you used to be such good friends! Talk to her!" She gestured toward the phone and mimed texting. "Oh, and since you're a 19-year old lady and not a little girl at my house after soccer practice having pizza, can you please call me Kate?"
"Seriously?
"Kayla, it's my name and you're an adult.....I'm sure."
