Tommie Lyn

Laura's Summer Vacation

Is summer romance sometimes just a Coke away?

The finger of sunlight dragged its luminosity over Laura’s closed eyes. She groaned and rolled over, wanting to get a few more minutes of sleep before the alarm buzzed. Her eyes popped open when she remembered this was not a work day. It was the first day of her vacation.

She threw back the covers, stretched, yawned and pried herself out of bed. Within fifteen minutes, spandexed, sandaled, and sun-hatted, she picked up her tote and towel and started across the motel parking lot toward the Gulf of Mexico.

Her friends who vacationed with her each summer had begged off this year. Janine had the summer flu, Barb’s mother had emergency surgery, and Sharon had found a new man. But Laura was undaunted. She was determined to enjoy her vacation.

Other early risers had staked out their territories on the beach behind the motel. Laura found a motel lounge chair with an umbrella and took possession of it. She arranged her things and settled herself. She pulled a new romance novel out of her tote and sighed in satisfaction as she opened the pristine cover.

She had picked this one because it was set in Florida. The cover depicted Heather the Heroine on a beautiful beach, much like this one, swooning in the arms of a handsome, muscular man. She immersed herself in Heather’s world.

Heather met the handsome stranger on the beach, and -- whap! A beach ball slapped against Laura's knee, bounced off and knocked over her Coke. She grabbed the bottle, but it was too late. She sat up and looked around for the offender. A little boy stood nearby, looking at her.

"Did you throw that ball?" she asked.

He shook his head. "I missed it, though."

"You should be more careful."

"I’m sorry, ma’am," said a deep masculine voice behind her. "We were just tossing the ball around. Didn’t mean to hit you."

She turned to see who had spoken. A muscular, tanned man in cut-off jeans. Like the man Heather just met, almost as if he had stepped out of the pages of her novel.

"N-n-no problem," she said.

"Hey, I knocked over your Coke. Least I can do is buy you another one. There's a concession stand over there," he said, gesturing. "Ok?”

She hadn't had an invitation to go out for a Coke in a long time. And, even more exciting, she’d be drinking it with a handsome stranger she’d met on a beach. Like Heather.

"Ok," she agreed.

He led the way to a table under the thatch-roofed cabana, where a woman and a little girl sat.

"Hi, honey," he said. "Bobby and I were playing ball and I accidentally hit this lady and spilled her Coke. I told her I owed her another one."

He leaned over and gave the woman a peck on the cheek.

"Honey, this is. . ." He turned to Laura. "I don’t believe I caught your name."