“It’s rude to stare,” she said.
She was facing the ocean, so how did she know I was looking? She turned and grinned at me. “I told you, it’s children that age you.” Then she pointed at the sky. “And that sun you’re sitting under. When you’re my age, you’ll regret not sitting under that umbrella.”
She sauntered to the shore, waded in a couple of feet, and then dove through a wave, surfacing in a strong and sure freestyle stroke.
I turned to the lifeguard stand. Freddy had seen her go in and was climbing off the chair, with a quick word to the other lifeguard. He laughed at something the guard said, then walked over toward me, shaking his head.
“We’ve got a little while,” he said. “She does long swims.”
“How do you know that?”
“She’s down here most mornings, early. You’re not supposed to swim before the guards are out, but, well, we were told to leave her be if we see her out there unless she’s in distress.”
“Still,” I said, looking out to where her white swim cap cut through the water. “You shouldn’t be over here. She sees everything.”
“She can’t possibly.” He leaned in. “No kiss today?”
I shoved him away playfully. “There are children and a very nosy aunt present.”
“They might enjoy the show.”
“I think I see why your sister warned me about you.”
“You can’t listen to anything Shirley says. She probably thinks kissing is how babies are made.”
I shook my head. “If that were true, she’d have a passel of nieces and nephews running around.”
He held a hand to his heart. “I’ll have you know I’m a perfectly virtuous young man. It’s not my fault you’ve stolen my heart.”
“No one virtuous kisses like that. That takes practice.” I couldn’t help but smile at him though. And after the previous night, the way his bronzed torso shone in the sunlight was not lost on me.
“I can’t remember a single girl before you. Were there some? Maybe. You’re the one who matters.”
I knew better. I did. I knew anyone who talked this smoothly was trouble—and I knew it because it was how I had hooked Daniel with no intention of following through on anything. But there was something in the way Freddy never took his eyes off me. The way he watched my mouth as I spoke, as if he wanted to devour my very words. The way he made me feel like the most irresistible girl in the world—the only girl in the world. I couldn’t hold out against that.
“She’s in bed by ten,” I said quietly. “I could slip out after that.”
His lips spread into a smile that I longed to kiss. “I’ll be outside waiting for you.”
“Now shoo, before Ada catches us and ships me back to New York.”
He kissed my cheek quickly and jogged back through the sand.
It was Sunday, and Ada insisted on watching Ed Sullivan, as always. I felt like my insides were vibrating, but I forced myself to sit still and act like I cared about Rosemary Clooney and Dave Barry. I laughed when she laughed, but I was really watching the clock on the mantel behind the television. Would this show never end?
But eventually it did, and Ada turned it off and went up to get ready for bed, which I pretended to do as well.
She turned to me at the top of the stairs, and I held my breath. She knew. Somehow, she knew.
But all she said was, “Tomorrow is the Fourth of July. I’ve given Frannie the day off, so you can sleep in as late as you like. We’ll watch the fireworks on the beach in the evening.”
“That,” I squeaked, then cleared my throat. “That sounds lovely.”
“Are you coming down with something?” She put the back of her hand to my forehead. “Or just too much sun?”
I felt my cheeks flushing. “Maybe. I’m sure a good night’s sleep will fix whatever it is.”
“Don’t stay up too late,” she said, turning to her door.
“Excuse me?”
She looked back at me with those shrewd eyes that missed nothing. “Reading.”
“Of course. No, I’ll go right to sleep tonight.”
“Good,” Ada said. She went into her room and shut the door. But I couldn’t shake the suspicion that she knew anyway.
I didn’t want to chance the front door. It was heavy and it stuck, and while she didn’t lock it, there was a high likelihood that either opening or closing it would give me away. Not to mention I would have to walk past her room to get down the stairs. But my bedroom windows opened, and the roof of the front porch was right outside. And even better, it was on the other side of the house from Ada’s window. I waited until ten minutes after the light under her bedroom door went out, and then I slid my window open and unlatched the screen.
I did hope Freddy couldn’t see me, as my shuffle down the roof to the edge was far from graceful, but it was an easy climb to the porch railing and then down from there. Freddy was practically invisible aside from the light of his cigarette glowing in the darkness.
“I knew you were the type who could sneak out,” he said, his teeth shining in the moonlight as he smiled, holding out his arm to me. “Let’s go. I left my car around the corner so it wouldn’t wake the old bat.”
“Don’t call her that,” I said, taking his arm. “She’s strict about certain things, but she’s not what she seems.”
“If you say so.”
Then I thought about what he had said. “Car? Where are we going?”
I saw the flash of his teeth again. “To have some fun.”
“I’m good for some kisses, but I’m not that kind of girl, buster.”
He threw his cigarette into the rock lawn of a nearby house and grabbed my waist, pulling me to him and kissing me deeply. “Who says I’m that kind of boy?” he breathed into my ear when he broke the kiss. “Come on.” He pulled me along again. “I promise. All clean fun tonight.”
His car was a red-and-white Bel Air convertible, a few years old, but immaculately kept. “Let’s go,” he said, opening the door for me. He climbed into the driver’s seat and held out a scarf. “Stole this from Shirley. She won’t ride with me unless her hair is tied up.”
“How thoughtful.” He looked over as I secured the scarf around my hair. “What?”
“You look beautiful,” he said. “Like you belong in this car.”