The Right Distance

After Amy's canoe tipped, she hung her Versace in a tree to dry and pulled on one of Lee's sweaters as pants. The Prada hat was beyond repair, and when I suggested that perhaps the thigh-high boots could be taken to a cobbler, the seam up the back re-fitted, she smiled serenely and said "They're just different boots now."

Things went neither against plan or with plan, since there wasn't one in the first place. We did think the bed in the office at Abe's was ours, but someone decided to fall in love back there instead. We went to Grayson's and stayed up until it was nearly sunrise, talking about what it was like to be in love with a wild animal trainer. In the morning, Grayson served coffee in mason jars, just like he promised, and I stood on the piano bench in my white pajamas and said "I rule your house!!" But I was a benevolent ruler, and short-lived.

Kristin put on all white and carried a parasol to the picnic, and I wore the flowered dress all day and into the night and the next day Lee described it as Oklahoma chic. I don't know what the madras bikini was, but I wore it and all my jewelry and sunglasses in his little pool next to the basketball court, and when he bent down to fasten the ankle strap on my heels, he said "I do love a well-turned ankle."

I didn't know how I could get any more satisfied than I was. I filled up the memory card again, and bought Its-Its for everyone and then some, and had two coffees at Ritual and an egg sandwich for breakfast, which is, without a doubt, my favorite vacation breakfast food.