Words of Danny O'Bigbelly My idea of a good time

Saturday, 12:55pm

Sally had already parked her Jeep in front of the cabin by the time Victor pulled his car off of the sandy, bumpy road onto the even bumpier driveway. The dusty haze her car’s passage had raised was still settling when Victor parked behind her. He could see that she was still sitting at the wheel, with Judy behind her in the back seat, also motionless.

Victor shut off his engine, and unclipped his seatbelt. He expected to hear his passenger immediately unfasten her seatbelt as soon as he unclicked his own, but there was nothing but silence from the passenger beside him. He turned his head and saw that seemed to have fallen asleep–but Victor was certain that she was only pretending. As he watched, her lips curled slightly in a sly but unintended smile.

Victor briefly considered tickling her with a quick poke to her stomach, but decided that she was getting too old to find that amusing. There must be some age, Victor thought, at which it is no longer appropriate to tickle your daughter when she asleep, and Victor guess that Magda might be past that age. She wasn’t a little girl any more.

In any case, there was no need to disturb her; there was no hurry. They were on vacation, and had no plans for the rest of the day beyond a vague notion that at some point in time they might get some dinner.

Victor opened his door, climbed out of the car, stretched his back for a moment, and then walked towards Sally’s jeep. Sally and Judy still hadn’t moved. As he reached them, he noticed that their eyes were closed, and Sally’s hands were still on the wheel.

“Is everything OK?” Victor asked.

Sally opened her eyes and smiled at Victor. “Everything is fine,” she answered.

“When you didn’t get out of the car, I was a little surprised. Are you waiting for something?”

“Oh, that. It’s… Well, it’s so quiet here that Judy and I started a tradition last year of just sitting in the car for a moment until we get used to it. When we’re driving along the road, it seems noisy, with all the gravel and bumps and everything, but when we turn off the engine, it’s suddenly so peaceful. We like to savour it.”

“It’s savoury,” added Judy, solemnly.

“Then I’m sorry I spoiled it by driving up behind you, and then interrupting your savoring.”

Sally smiled again. “Don’t be.”

The wind rustled softly the scrub pine forest that surrounded the house. Victor could hear the faint drone of an unseen fishing boat slowly traversing the channel out of Wellfleet Harbor, at least a mile away.

“It is very peaceful here,” Victor said. “Very peaceful. I’d like to thank you once again for inviting me and Magda to the Cape, or ‘Down the Cape’ as you called it, for the weekend. We’ve been having a wonderful time.”

“It’s our pleasure. We’re glad you could come, but sorry that Adrianna couldn’t make it,” Sally answered.

Victor shrugged. “I’m sure that she would have enjoyed it, but when she’s on travel…”

Magda still in the car?”, Sally asked, after a long moment.

“Yes; I think she’s pretending to be asleep. I wouldn’t mind a nap myself, honestly. I think I am going to sleep very well tonight. If I make it until then!” Victor answered, with a laugh.

Sally turned her head and looked at Victor’s car. It was a large but low-slung four-door coupe. The door sills were wet and there were splashes up almost as far as the windows.

“I’m sorry you car getting wet like that,” said Sally. “I lost track of the time, and we’re lucky we got across the causeway. I don’t think about it too much in the jeep, but I should have been thinking about your car.”

Victor shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. There’s not much that can be done about it now. There probably isn’t more salt in that water than what I get off the street in Cambridge in the Winter.”

Sally swung open her door and climbed down. “We’ll be stuck here on the island for at least a few hours now. In an hour or so, when the tide comes over the whole causeway, I wouldn’t even try to take the jeep across.”

“Then I guess we won’t be seeing Brad for a while?”

“Not unless he decides to sail up to the beach. But don’t worry; he doesn’t mind. He never gets tired of sailing.”

Sally looked again at Victor’s car, thinking that her husband would have been much more worried about his car getting wet than Victor was. She looked again at the logo on Victor’s car, trying to remember where she had seen it before.

Cars had never held much interest for Sally, so she was neither particularly surprised nor curious about not recognizing it the first few times she had seen it. If asked, Sally would have said that she thought that it looked very tasteful, perhaps even beautiful, and like a car that would comfortable to ride in, but without being gaudy, flashy, or noisy. Beyond that, she hadn’t given it a second thought until earlier this afternoon.

After Victor had parked his car in front of the restaurant where they had eaten lunch, Sally had noticed that some people–mostly men or older boys–turned their heads to look at it as they walked past. More than a few stopped and looked at for a few minutes, as though mesmerized, before continuing on their way. Several took photographs. Victor’s car clearly aroused their curiosity, and that, in turn, aroused hers, so she had begun to pay more attention to the people who paid attention to the car.

Through the open window of the restaurant, she had heard two teenagers discussing it; one opined that it was an old Maserati, and therefore a maintenance nightmare disguised behind very nice sheet metal, while the other believed that it was a Bugatti or possibly a very rare Aston-Martin, and in either case extremely rare and expensive. She also heard one man say to his partner as they walked past that he thought it was a Maybach, which meant nothing at all to Sally. She thought it probably wasn’t any of those, but she didn’t know why she thought that. The car looked somewhat out of place here, covered in dust splashed with water, at the end of a sandy driveway, but Sally had seen odd or unusual cars her before.

As Sally looked again at Victor’s car, Magda’s door opened with a creak and a long bare leg emerged and toed at the sand in the driveway for a moment. After a moment the rest of Magda followed. She blinked for a moment in the sunlight and then, in a stylized and well-rehearsed movement, pulled her long black hair back into a ponytail with her left hand and fastened it in place with a scrunchy in her right.

“I don’t think I’ve ever eaten that many clams before in my life”, Magda groaned. “I think I’m done for the afternoon. I just want to take a nap.”

“I don’t think you’ve even seen that many clams before in one place”, answered Victor. “But I’m afraid your commitments for the afternoon are only beginning. You promised that you would play with Judy. If memory serves, she has some hermit crabs that she would like you to meet.”

With a giggle, Judy bounced down from her perch in the jeep, grasped Magda’s arm, and led her off toward the house.

“It’s very sporting of her to play with Judy like that,” remarked Sally.

“Don’t let her teen-age attitude fool you. It’s just an act. Magda adores Judy. I think she secretly wishes she was seven again, instead of fourteen.”

“And you probably wish the same thing.”

“You know what they say: raising a girl is a lot easier than raising a boy, but raising a young man is easier than raising a young woman.

There was a long shriek from the direction of the path that wound through the dunes and down to the beach. Victor looked alarmed for a moment, but as the shriek degenerated into giggles the tension eased away from his body.

“I suppose it was only matter of time before Judy discovered that Magda is ticklish. Or perhaps she has discovered Magda’s true feelings about hermit crabs.”

“These things are very important to a seven-year-old.”

“I’ll ask her later if you’re ticklish anywhere accessible.”

Sally blushed slightly, and Victor continued on.

“But in the meanwhile, Sally, I ask you to consider the possibilities provided by our situation. Your husband will not be back for hours. My wife is out of town. Our children have run off and might not return for hours. It is too soon to begin thinking about dinner, except in the most abstract terms.” Victor smiled widely. “How shall we pass the time?”

Sally smiled demurely in return, but there was a sparkle in her eye.

“It seems wrong… but I know what you want, and you know that I can’t say no. Brad wouldn’t mind. He wouldn’t leave us alone together, if was concerned. He knows about our history.”

Victor raised an eyebrow.

“And he knows that we… He knows that I have needs. He tries to fulfill them, and I love him for it, but I know he doesn’t enjoy it. He’s not like you. So I think he’s giving me tacit permission. Encouragement, even. After all, he can’t actually enjoy just sitting there on a wet piece of fiberglass, wrestling with a rudder or a sheet, or whatever it’s called, all day, can he? I believe that he’s staying away–sacrificing himself–to create this opportunity.”

“Maybe he’s just testing you.”

“You don’t know Brad. He doesn’t feel threatened by you.” Sally paused. “Well, maybe by your car,” she added, almost as an afterthought.

Victor raised his eyebrows.

“I never really put this together before, but when Brad meets another man, the topic of cars always seems to come up. Always. I think it’s so Brad can mention the ’68 Stingray he’s restoring. But Brad has never mentioned his Stingray or talked about cars with you, at least not when I’ve been there. Your car must be something special.”

Victor gave a short laugh. “My car? This thing? It’s a reliable and practical transportation; some style, a little comfort, but nothing exciting.” He shook his head. “Now, a Stingray–that’s a fun car. A very nice toy. I’ll have to ask him about it.”

Victor gave another short laugh, and then continued, with a wistful tone. “When Magda came, I knew I needed something suitable. A family car.” Victor looked wistful for a moment. “You should have seen the vehicle I had when I was single. That car would have made Brad’s eyes pop out. And the way I used to drive–a little reckless, I confess. He’d never leave you alone with me if he’d seen me driving that car.”

Victor laughed again and shook his head.

Sally ignored the digression. She was not interested in cars right now. “But if you and I start again… Will we be able to stop? Or are we stepping onto a slippery slope here?”

“One way or the other, I’m heading back to Boston tomorrow morning,” Victor answered.

“Yes, and then I’ll see you at the office on Monday! And I don’t want to end up sneaking off at lunch with you once or twice a week, like the old days.”

Victor nodded solemnly. “It would be a scandal, if word got out. People say the most outrageous things.”

Sally shook her head, indicating that her point had been missed. “Would that really be the worst thing that could happen?” she asked.

Victor shrugged. “Adrianna? Sally, you don’t know my wife very well. She has very traditional values on many matters, but she has never asked for exclusivity. She would be more threatened if you and I had some sort of, well, let us say, intimate emotional commitment.”

Victor paused. “I am more concerned about the children. I would not want to lose Magda’s respect. What if they catch us in the act?”

“I think they already suspect. And who knows, maybe they’ll learn something,” Sally said with a wink. “I can’t keep Judy in the dark about these things.”

“I surrender! You know that I can’t say no to you. I never could. I’ll get the Scrabble board.”

Continued in part 3! When I get around to it!