Chapter 2 – Little Man in the Boat
The next day my Dad had to fly out for a promotional review with his publisher in New York. Mom wasn't happy, but she knew that Dad had a book coming out and needed to review the marketing plan to make sure the book would be a success when it hit shelves.
Dad had told me one time that he'd almost killed his writing career trusting his agent to handle publishers. His plan was to drive in to Manistique, catch a puddle-jumper to Chicago, and from there to New York. Total trip should be two or three days tops, and this didn't seem like too much work for an entire summer off.
So that left me, Sherry and Mom alone at the house for a couple days. The place still wasn't totally set up after being boxed up for the winter, and one of the small bedrooms downstairs was stuffed with bags and boxes, spare mattresses and other assorted stuff. Since we only needed three rooms anyway, we had put all the suitcases in this spare room as well.
That morning, after my Mom drove my Dad out to the airport, I ran in to my sister coming out of the spare room. She was wearing one bikini top, and carrying another whole suit. She had on white gym shorts over what was probably the matching bikini bottom and beach sandals.
"Hey Danny," she said a little absently. She was looking intently at herself and the suit in her hands.
"What's up squirt?" I said yawning. Mornings start slow for me and it was past ten already. Everyone else had been up and moving, I was looking for coffee and cereal.
"Which do you think looks better?" Sherry asked, holding up a pink top to compare against the yellow top she was wearing. The yellow was kind of plain, covered a lot of space and was the kind of bathing suit Mom and Dad wouldn't give her a hard time about. The pink suit was much smaller, showing about half of each boob and if I remembered right the bottom was practically a thong. I tried to shove that thought out of my head.
"I dunno. Haven't you been wearing the yellow?" I asked. I knew the answer but this seemed like the best way to exit the fashion conversation. I had come up with exactly two suits, one to wear and one to dry while the other was being worn. I hadn't counted, but I'm pretty sure Sherry had brought at least a hundred.
"I think I'm gonna wear the pink today. Dad's not here and Mom won't bother me about it."
This was true. Our mother would probably get home and make a martini. I'm not saying she had a drinking problem, but "vacation times call for vacation measures, as momma used to say" was a phrase we heard often enough as she got pouring.
"Danny, will you take me out on the boat today? Just to sunbathe, I'm kind of tired of fish."
"Yeah, I guess I can do that," I said, trying hard not to think about my sister wearing her little pink bikini out in the sun. "I'll row if you'll pack lunch."
"Oh, thanks Danny! That'll be so much quieter than the engine, and it's not like we need to
go
anywhere."
Sherry went to change, and I went to get coffee. A few minutes later, I was sitting in the living room watching a sports show, drinking a huge cup of coffee and finishing a bowl of cereal. I was about to open up a banana to finish breakfast when Sherry came skipping in to the room in the pink bikini top
and
bottom.
"Ta-da!" She announced, striking a pose. "Don't you love this suit, Danny?"
I did. I tried not to let my eyes pop, but she really did look amazing. About 5'6 and thinly muscular, with a taut belly, shaped thighs from cross-country running and long sandy-dark hair bleached by the last week or so of sun. Her tan was uneven from the variety of suits she'd been wearing, but those parts that got exposure were a deep even brown. She turned around in a quick circle and I saw that, in fact, the back was a thong, showing off a cute little ass as she gave a delicious wiggle just before finishing her turn.
"Very cute," I said, turning my eyes to the sports show. Even in summer time, they seemed to like to talk hockey up here. I tried hard to think about hockey. Cold, smooth ice and toothless Canadian guys mashing each other into glass. Cold ice down my pants . . . a bucket's worth . . . keeping the monster at bay.
"Don't forget to bring sunscreen, if you get burned and can't sit down Dad will throw that suit away."
"He wouldn't do that! Besides, that's what I came in here for." She hopped over to the couch and flopped down beside me, reaching for the bottle of sunscreen sitting on the table right in front of me. "See?" she said. Then, "so are you gonna eat that?"
I was still holding the banana up, waiting to unwrap it.
Sitting there, looking at her next to me in the tiny pink bikini, feeling her body pressed against me and holding this ridiculous yellow phallus between us, I started to feel very uncomfortable. What the hell was going on in my head lately? Like the wheels were turning but the hamsters were drunk.
"Here." She took the banana out of my hands, and tore down one corner. Unwrapping just a bit, she took a little bite off the top. "Small toll charge." She said, smiled, and left after handing me back the banana.
I held the banana a second longer, stunned and watching her hips and hair sway as she went back to the bedroom. I looked over on the couch, and there was the bottle of sunscreen. She must have put it down when she took the banana and forgot it while making an exit.
Maybe I wasn't the only one distracted?
