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None of us had brought a girl to the barbecue except Jeremy when he was in law school. It was also the year he tried to grow a beard, so none of us would let him live that down. His law school girlfriend had referred to the place as ‘quaint’ and ‘rustic’ and been startled that I was training to be a firefighter and our other brother was in the military.
“Unless you’re on the officer’s track, and I mean going for Admiral or something, the military is so…” she had trailed off but I thought she meant working class or peasant or something of that nature. She didn’t last the whole weekend before they broke up and Darren had to give her a ride to the train station.
It happens sometimes, people mistaking our values, our work ethic because we grew up with money. My parents were hard workers and raised us to be the same, and to look down on no one. Training for a blue-collar job like I did or serving our country like Darren were sources of pride for all of us. The only way our parents would be ashamed of any of us would be if we chose to be ignorant or cruel. Those were only unforgivable sins when I was growing up.
We knew we were fortunate, and we loved to bring everyone together at the beach house for the summer holidays. The end of season barbecue was a major occasion, and my dad liked a big crowd. Even though most of the meal was catered, you’d still find Dad manning the barbecue and Mom fussing around with her layered fruit dessert thing she always made---a tall glass bowl of berries layered with whipped cream that she mixed up with powdered sugar and an entire bottle of wine.
It was wonderful to be back here, to let the salt breeze whip across my face and step off the deck into the sand barefoot. I stopped and talked to people we saw every year who had houses on this row, and other old friends who’d driven out from Manhattan. I was chatting with one of my dad’s oldest golfing buddies, Max, when I saw a flash of green that caught my eye. In a cloudy landscape of pale beach and gray water, the spark of emerald green stood out. There she was. A short green sundress, the skirt flapping against her thighs as she readjusted the big canvas bag on her shoulder. She had been smart enough to wear sandals, not high heels. As she got closer, I saw that her flat sandals were gold with a gold cord wrapped around her ankle and halfway up her calf. I damn hear choked when I saw those shoes. There was something so incredibly sexy about her from head to toe that I couldn’t even take my eyes off her.
She said at the hospital the other night that I hadn’t changed at all. But Julie was a far cry from the shy, bookish girl who used to hang around with Kendall and blush and stammer if I said hi. The sweet kid with the awful green flowered one-piece swimsuit while everyone else wore bikinis the summer when I was a lifeguard. I felt my heart hammering against my rib cage as she came closer. I just walked away from the people I was talking to and moved in her direction, wanting to greet her and be the first one to welcome her to the barbecue.
My little sister, who I may forgive someday but this isn’t that day, swooped in front of me and hugged Julie first. I watched them together, the sheer happiness and friendship in that hug. Instead of a heartwarming moment, though, it was a little more complicated than that for me. When Julie lifted her arms to hug Kendall’s neck, the hem of her sundress rode up her thigh giving me a glimpse of a tan line. A private mark where her legs gave way to the paler skin she kept covered by her clothing most of the time. A sliver of skin that no one was supposed to see. It was all I could do to keep from going rock hard right there. I tried to take deep breaths and look up at the sky and try to count birds or some crap like that for a distraction.
It didn’t help that I could smell her perfume, a scent that reminded me of flowers but with a spicy kick. She didn’t use that lotion that smells like cake frosting thank goodness. Once Kendall released her, I leaned in for a quick, one-armed hug to welcome her. I didn’t want to pull her close to me for a bear hug because she might feel the proof of my arousal. I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable that way. So, it was a good thing, I guess, that my sister was talking a mile a minute.
