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JohnUpdike
Inwalksthesethreegirlsinnothingbutbathingsuits.I’mihirdcheybacktothedoor，soIdoilthey’reoverbythebread.Theocaughtmyeyefirstwastheoheplaidgreentwo-piece.Shewasakykid，withagoodtanabroadsoft-lookingwiththosetwotsofwhitejustu，wherethesuohit，atthetopofthebackss.IstoodtherewithmyhandonaboxofHiHtorememberifIrangitupornitupagaimehell.She’sohesecash-register-watchers，awitchaboutfiftywithrougeonheresandnoeyebrows，andIknowitmadeherdaytotripmeup.She’dbeenwatgcashregistersfortyyearsandprobablyakebefore.
BythetimeIgotherfeatherssmoothedandhergoodiesintoabag—shegivesmealittlesnortinpassing，ifshe’dbeenborimetheywouldhaveburnedheroverihetimeIgetherohegirlshadcirdthebreadandwereingback，ushcart，backmywayaloers，intheaislebetweesandtheSpes.Theydidn’tevenhaveshoesohise，withthetwo-piece—itwasbrightgreenahebrawerestillsharpandherbellyrettypalesoIguessedshejustgotit（thesuit）—therewasthisohohosechubbyberry-faces，thelipsallbuheruhisoallohblackhairthathadn’tquitefrizzedright，ahesesunburnsrightadertheeyes，andathatwastoolong—youknow，thekindirlsthiriking”
and“attractive”
butemakesit，astheyveryhichiswhytheylikehersomudthehirdowasall.Shewasthequeen.Shekiheothertwopeekingaroundandmakingtheirshouldersroulookaround，notthisqueewalkedstraightonslowly，ontheselongwhiteprimadonnalegs.Shealittlehardonherheels，asifshedidn’twalkihatmugdowheheweightmovealooesasifshewastestingthefloorwitheverystep，puttingalittledeliberateextraatoit.Youneverknirls’mindswork（doyoureallythinkit’samindialittlebuzzlikeabeeinaglassjar?）butyougottheideashehadtalkedtheothertwointoihher，andnoiodoit，walkslowandholdyourselfstraight.
Shehadonakindofdirty-pink—beigemaybe，Idon’tknow—bathingsuitwithalittlenubblealloveritand，whatgotme，thestrapsereoffhershouldersloopedloosearouopsofherarms，andIguessasaresultthesuithadslippedalittleonher，soallarouhecloththerewasthisshiningriIfithadhereyouwouldherecouldhavebeenanythihoseshoulders.Withthestrapspushedoff，therewashetopofthesuitaopofherheadexceptjusther，thisbareplaopofhertheshoulderboedsheetofmetaltiltedi.Imean，itwasmorethay.
&ofoakyhairthatthesunandsalthadbleaeupinabunthatwasunravelling，andakindofprimfagintotheA&Pwithyourstrapsdown，Isupposeit’stheonlykindoffahave.Sheheldherheadsohighherneingupoutofthosewhiteshoulders，lookedkiched，butIdidn’tmind.Thelongerherhemoreofherthere>
...
“OhDaddy，”
Stokesiesaidbesideme.“Ifeelsofaint.”
“Darling，”
Isaid.“Holdmetight.”
Stokesie’smarried，withtwobabieschalkeduponhisfuselagealready，butasfarasItellthat’stheonlydifferey-two，andIwashisApril.
“Isitdoheresponsiblemarriedmanfindinghisvoice.Ifottosayhethinkshe’sgoingtobemanagersomesunnyday，maybei’scalledtheGreatAlexandrovarooshkiTeaething.
Whathemeantwas，ourtownisfivemilesfromabeach，withabigsummeryouto，butwe’rerightinthemiddleoftown，andthewomeonashirtorshortsorsomethioutofthetothestreet.Andanywaytheseareusuallywomenwithsixandvarismappingtheirlegsandnobody，ingthem，couldcareless.AsIsay，we’rerightinthemiddleoftown，andifyoustandatourfrontdoorsyouseetwobanksandthegregationaldtheoreaateoffidabouttwenty-sevenoldfree-luptralStreetbecausethesewerbrokeagain.It’snotasifwe’reontheCape;we’renorthofBostonandthere’speopleinthistowsee>
ThegirlshadreachedthemeatdwereaskingMethied，theypoiheyshuffledoutofsightbehindapyramidofDietDelightpeaches.AllthatwasleftforustoseewasoldMpattinghismouthandlookihemsizis.Poorkids，Ibegantofeelsorryforthem，they’thelpit.
hesadpartofthestory，atleastmyfamilysaysit’ssadbutIdon’tthinkit’ssadmyself.Thestore’sprettyempty，itbeingThursdayafternoon，sotherewasnothingmuchtodoexisterandwaitfirlstoshowupagaioreinballmadIdidn’tknowwhielthey’deoutof.Afterawhiletheyearoundoutofthefaraisle，aroubulbs，recordsatdistoftheSixorTsorsomesukyouwohewaxon，sixpadybars，andplastieupinethatfaIlapartwhenakidlooksatthemanyway.Aroundtheye，Queeillleadingtheway，andholdingalittlegrayjarinherhand.SlhSevenareunmannedandIcouldseeherwbetweenStokesaokesiewithhisusualluckdraartyinbaggygraypantswhostumblesupwithfiantsofpineapplejuicebum（whatdothesebumsdoineapplejuice’I’veoftenaskedmyself）sothegirlse.QueesdownthejaraomyfingersicygfishFangSnaPureSourCream:49￠.Nowherhaaringorabracelet，bareasGodmadethem，ahemoney’s.Stillrimlooksheliftsafoldeddollarbilloutofthehollowattheterofherop.Thejarwentheavyinmyhahoughtthatwassocute.
Theneverybody’slustorunout.LengelesinfromhagglingwithatruckfullofcabbagesoandisabouttostothatdERhindwhichhehidesalldaywheouchhiseye.Leydreary，teadaysdtherest，buthedoesn’tmissthatmuesoverandsays，“Girls，thisisn’tthebeach.”
Queehoughmaybeit’sjustabrushofsunburnIwasnotigforthefirsttime，nowthatshewassootheraskedmetopickupajarsnacks.”
Hervoidofstartledme，thewayvoicesdowhehepeoplefirst，ingoutsoflatakindoftony，too，thewayittickedover“pid“snacks”
.AllofasuddenIslidrightdownhervoitrooHerfatherahermeandingaroundisahewomenigupherringsnatoothpicksoffabigplateandtheywereallholdingdrinksthecolorofwaterwitholivesandsprigsofmintintheWheshavesomebetlemonadeandifit’sarealracyaffairStallglasseswith“They’llDoItEveryTime”
ssten.
“That’sallright，”
Lengelsaid.“Butthisisn’tthebeach.”
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