BRR - IT’S HOT

The young matron was barefoot when she tip-toed into the cold lake. One step was all she could bear. Over-doing her obvious shivers, shebacked into me. I fell onto the packed brown wet mud that we natives call ‘The Beach.’ ‘Stop laughing, Lady,’ I snarled. ‘I am not amused.’ ‘Mister, if you are so upset, take your shorts off. I’ll take them home, wash and dry them for you.’ It becomes my turn to laugh. ‘Sounds like a good deal to me. I’m game. Where do you live?’ I believe I have frightened her but no, she replies, ‘Follow me. 302 Lake Tahoe Dr. I’m less than a mile away.’ ‘Sorry, Lady. I am not in the habit of following strangers. My name is Seth. What’s yours?’ If you don’t laugh again, it’s Dolly. Want to Parton me for knocking you over? Now we aren’t strangers and you are invited to share the ham and cheese sandwich, with sides, that is in my wicker picnic basket on that table near the first pine tree.’

Dolly has her flip flops on and I have a bulge in my shorts. My book, newspapers and towel are laying on the grass just as I had left them.Nevertheless, I take them with me and walk with Dolly to the table she had ‘saved’. A family of interlopers have spread themselves beyond the ½ way table mark. That is their right but we have the right to go someplace else. I take the light weight basket and Dolly carries my few belongings to another spot that doesn’t have pine needles on the ground.

From the basket, Dolly takes out a red checked paper table cloth, several matching napkins, 3 paper plates, a small jar of pickles and 3 sandwiches. “Is anyone else having lunch with you besides me?’ I ask. ‘No, just us and you won’t have to share my sandwich. We’ll each have 1 ½.' The thermos has cold lemonade. While she is setting up, I give her a real going over. I figure her to be 40, 42 the oldest. No sags, no bags, no wedding ring. Not Madonna but good enough for me. This day is better than I expected.

The sandwiches, still on fresh rye bread, have plenty of ham and Gray Poupon mustard between it and the cheese. Dolly magically pulls out a bag of salt free potato chips and dribbles some on my plate. They are tasteless without salt but I don’t complain.

‘So, what do you think of our President, Dolly? Are you right, left or undecided?’ ‘I don’t talk politics with my best friends. If I would, they would be my worst enemies.’ ‘I’ve got questions, lots of questions for you, Seth. What do you do for a living? Are you vacationing at Tahoe? Are you married?’ Answer those and I’ll take some of yours. ‘Well, for starters, I’m an ax murderer, I have 10 illegitimate children whose names and addresses I don’t know, don’t want to know. I’m now a bachelor, here to make a Roulette strike and be rich enough to find a woman who will have me. How about you, Dolly?’ ‘ There isn’t much to say. I’m a childless widow who can take care of herself, manage three exclusive ladies’ shops and I love spicy Italian food. This is my free off day and I am tired. Help me clean up our small mess, will you?

I take her hand, give her a gentle push and get her to sit down to relax. Again I look at her and she does look beat, almost ashen. ‘Dolly, I’d like to walk you home. You look a bit piqued. ‘ Sure, why not, Seth. My pick ax is hidden so well you’ll never find it.’ I hold her arm and she leans slightly towards me. At her front door she fumbles for her key, retrieves it from a corner of her purse, gives it to me and invites me in. Fool I’m not. I enter. In the kitchen she smiles a little and gives me an order. ‘Those dreadful shorts you are still wearing look like they turned to marble. I offered to wash and dry them for you–take them off.’ With no embarrassment, I drop my drawers and hand them to her.

There is no doubt in her mind about what the lump was I had been trying to hide. Her smile grows bigger.