dressed in a pair of knee-length swimming trunks with a towel around his neck. Not bad, Leslie thought. Not bad at all. He crossed the seawall a few houses down the beach, dropped his towel on the sand, and headed into the water. He waded out into deeper water and began to swim parallel to the beach. As the women watched he swam smoothly and efficiently until he was almost out of sight then reversed course and swam back. “He does that at least once a day. I would guess,” Marie said as he turned and retraced his previous course, “that he swims several miles every time. It exhausts me to watch.”
“It’s really good exercise,” Leslie said, wishing she were a better swimmer so she could work out that way, too. It looked so invigorating.
“I’ve got to get going,” Marie said, getting to her feet. “Joe will be home soon and it’s time for me to get dinner started.”
“Me too,” Suze said. “Kevin won’t be home until later—he teaches high school in town, and he’s doing some tutoring for the summer—but I’ve got a few things to do and some phone calls I have to make, then I’ve got a council meeting tonight.”
“I think I’ll just sit here for a little while longer,” Leslie said, shifting onto the hard packed sand so Suze could pick up her blanket. “It’s so peaceful.” She gazed at the water and the sun, still high in the painfully blue sky.
“I don’t know whether Joe told you but we have a cookout the first Friday evening of each month during the summer and there’s one tomorrow night,” Marie said as she picked up her beach tote and stuffed her towel inside. “You can either bring something or contribute to the kitty. I’d love it if you’d join us.”
“Joe did tell me, and I’ll be there. I’m afraid I’m hopeless in the kitchen so I’ll just feed the kitty.”
“Great. We’ll probably see you before that,” Suze said. “We who live in these houses are sort of a family and, since you’re our nearest neighbor, you’re adopted.”
Leslie viewed this as a mixed blessing but she smiled and watched the two women make their way toward the stairs. Normal people. While not friends yet, certainly comfortable acquaintances. How wonderful.
Chapter 3
“She seems nice,” Marie said to Suze as they climbed the steps.
“Yeah, she does.”
“Her voice is so low and sexy, and she’s absolutely gorgeous even without makeup. I really should hate her but it’s difficult not to take to her.”
“I know. Strange, though, it seems like she’s trying to downplay her looks. I’ll bet she’s got quite a shape but with that chest-flattening thing she was wearing, she’s quite, well, flat.”
“Suze, you’re amazing. You notice the oddest things.”
“I guess, but being mayor and all I need to be observant.”
“Right. See you tomorrow.”
As neighbors for the seven years since she first moved to Sound’s End, Suze and Marie had become good friends. Well, Suze thought, maybe not good friends. After all, Marie had only a high school education and wasn’t much for reading good literature. While Suze spent considerable time watching public broadcasting, Marie was always up on the latest TV shows. She could give you the background of each of the Desperate Housewives in great detail and she had a strict “do not ever call during Lost” rule.
As Suze climbed the stairs to her front porch, she heard the loud roar of an approaching motorcycle. With a long sigh she thought, KJ’s home. The roar stopped with a screech of brakes and a scream of rubber as she stepped into the living room and only moments later footsteps pounded up the back porch stairs. “KJ?”
“Yeah, who else?”
“Wipe your feet.”
She sensed rather than heard his long sigh. At that moment she heard a car door slam then the motor roar away. Mingled with the heavy boot steps, she heard lighter ones. “Eliza? That you?”
“Of course, Mom.”
“Right.” Suze walked to the rear of the house and into the kitchen where the two siblings had their heads stuck in the refrigerator. “Dinner’s in less than an hour so don’t eat.”
Totally ignoring her, as they usually did, they each reached inside. Suze barely noticed her son’s jeans-covered behind, but she couldn’t overlook her daughter’s tiny shorts and the wide expanse of skin between the lowered waistband and her tiny tank top. “I thought I said no belly shirts, young lady. Is that new? I don’t remember buying it for you.”
Eliza pulled back and stood, a can of soda and small container of leftover Chinese food in hand. “Oh, come on, Mother. Everyone’s wearing these and I just got it. Nothing interesting is showing.”
Suze gazed at her fifteen-year-old daughter who looked only one step from a hooker. Her lovely chestnut brown hair currently had a bright blue patch over one temple and she wore heavy blue eyeshadow on her blue eyes and deep red lipstick. Suze got a better look at her daughter’s tiny black shorts that barely covered her pubis and cropped red tank top with sparkly white letters that said No, wait. I AM the center of the universe across the front and barely covered her well-developed breasts. The expanse of tan skin below was lean and taut as only a teenager’s could be. “You’re not. Put something decent on before your father comes home.”
“He doesn’t care what I wear.”
“Change.”
“Oh please,” Eliza said.
“Eliza!” Suze said, her voice rising.
Without a backward glance Eliza, soda, food, and a small plastic shopping bag in hand, headed for the stairs.
“You really shouldn’t eat so close to dinner.”
Totally ignoring her, Eliza reached the top of the stairs and, only a moment later, slammed her door. Suze could hear as she turned on her stereo.
“You too, KJ,” she said as he pulled a container of orange juice from the fridge and drank several long swallows from the spout. “And don’t drink out of the container!” Suze looked at her son. When had he gotten to be a man? she wondered. He was already taller than his father with a well-developed body, a cap of curly brown hair and his father’s deep brown, almost bedroom eyes. Where had her children gone?
“Come on, Suze, I’m a big boy now. Lay off.” He took another long drink.
“You’ve really got to get the muffler fixed on your motorcycle. It makes a terrible racket. Isn’t that much noise against the traffic laws?”
“I sort of like the noise and none of your cops would ever give me a ticket.”
“They’re not my cops.”
“Same thing. Whenever they stop me, once they realize who I am, they let me off with a warning.”
“Whenever they stop you? When have you been stopped by the cops?” Suze asked, horrified.
“Every now and then,” KJ said, exasperation accenting every line of his body and every note in his voice.
“For what?”
“Oh, you know, routine kid stuff. Going a little too fast, going through the stupid stop sign at the intersection of Route 1 and Atlantic Beach Road. It’s so bogus. You can see for a mile in every direction so sometimes I just blow through it. You do too, Suze, I’ve seen you.”
“I do not.” Actually she frequently glanced both ways then went through the light but she certainly didn’t do it when anyone was watching. “It’s the law, even if it is in a dumb place. We’ve been trying to get it changed to a yield for years but the state DOT won’t hear of it. Anyway, stop changing the subject. I don’t want you getting stopped by the police. It doesn’t reflect well on me as mayor.”