"Upon hearing his name, Joe peeked from behind the Sunday paper with, “I get back from London on Friday. I should be here around nine... ten at the latest. If I run later, start without me," he said. "Look, Hon,” I added, “just invite her over. She'll either politely decline, or she'll be hotter than any of us. Joe and I can arrive later, giving you guys a head start. By the time we get here, Judy will have either run off or be open for almost anything, no pun intended.“There is nothing to arrange. Just invite her. We already know that if you let them, things like this just, happen. Right, Joe?”The next morning, with my mind and body smiling, I drove to work and Joe took a car to the airport, both of us wondering how Cindy would arrange things with Judy. Knowing her as we do, we were both confident of her success.And so it begins... “Honey, I’m home,” I called out as I entered the door. It was just past eight and I was about to explode with tension, wondering what was going on between. I was still stunned at the antics of the girls at the beach, and I'd been replaying it in my mind, over and over.By the time I got back, I could see my aunt through the kitchen window, her smile so like the one my mother flashed from time to time. The one I'd so seldom caught on film. Aunt Sally was a few years younger, and definitely a little more mischievous. She waved to me as I opened the gate, and beckoned me to come inside.Visiting Sally always had a strange effect on me. I felt as though I left all my problems, and all the rules, at the gate. Sally was what Mum called a bad influence. I loved them both to bits.As I set foot in the kitchen, I was presented with a full glass of cold beer, and a warm smile. Mum didn't approve of me drinking beer away from home. Sally knew it, and Mum knew she gave it to me anyway. All of that made it so much more fun."Come talk to me, Paul. How was the beach?"Sally was a chatterbox, and I took a sip of the beer before answering. "It was.
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