Red-Faced on the Seven-Mile Beach
“I wonder if the seven-mile beach in Negril really is seven miles long,” said Charlotte as she slowly applied suntan lotion on her left forearm. Without expecting a reply she calmly continued on, “I’m pretty sure someone must have pulled out their measuring tape across the seven-mile beach to know for sure.”
As the Jamaican sun shone on without paying heed to Charlotte’s banter, Yvette welcomed her best friend’s observations with equal gusto. “It couldn’t possibly be eight miles or six miles or even precisely seven miles really. Its probably seven point something miles long. Seven point something would be quite a weird name for a beach anyway. I prefer the name seven-mile beach.”
“I agree, Evie. And it sounded like a good place when I found it on the internet.”
“Mostly the stuff they put on the internet never lives up to the place but that travel resource you found was really great.” replied Yvette.
As boredom set in Charlotte eventually noticed an elderly couple wearing straw hats trying to tan their pale bodies. “Don’t look now” whispered Charlotte, “but there’s a cute older couple next to us. I bet they have been together for at least 30 years.”
Yvette skeptically peered from the corner of her eye. “Looks like it but I am sure he’s cheated on her sometime and she must have probably taken him back after a lot of drama.”
“How can you say such a thing? You don’t even know them. I bet such a thing never happened.”
“Oh, come off it Charlotte. Don’t be so nave. He anyway looks like he would do something like that.”
“Fine. Look the wife is going somewhere. Why don’t we find out for ourselves? If you can go over there and get his hotel room number then I’ll treat you to dinner tonight.”
“You’re on” said Yvette and without hesitation quickly settled herself at the man’s feet.
“It’s a fine afternoon” coyed Yvette.
“It sure is!” smiled the old man.
“You know my friend over there has made some plans for the evening and I have absolutely nothing to do.” Yvette waited for a response but didn’t get one. She could feel Charlotte smirk behind her. “I was wondering if you are not busy yourself maybe we could do something, together.”
Before the old man could reply, his wife promptly arrived. Yvette was ready to make a hasty exit when the wife said, “Yvette, is that you? Of course it is. I am Mrs. Bloom. Your mother’s friend from Shelbyville.”
The shock and embarrassment slowly made Yvette’s face turn into a bright shade of red.
