The town car pulled up to the drop off zone, a few yards from the main building at Smith Point….It had been a long time since Frank had been out to the beach….a very long time. But he had promised the grandkids they'd spend at least 3 days out on the shore this year…fishing, swimming….whatever they wanted. It would well make life quite a challenge for his security detail, but it would give Danny, Linda, and even Erin a much deserved break….and the more he thought of it….it gave him one too.

Nicky, the ever dutiful older cousin, was doing her best to wrangle Jack and Sean out of the car and around to the back to grab the chairs, towels and other beach necessities, but when she reached the rear with them, she found the items already being drawn out by a tall man in a dark suit and serious expression on his face.

"….Uhhhh…ok…" she replied to his unspoken statement, not used to having things like this done for her.

"SO…WHO'S READY FOR THE BEACH!" Frank exclaimed, trying to distract the kids from the uncomfortable moment.

"I AM!" the boys exclaimed in unison. Nicky spun on her heels to face her granddad with them and shrugged….She was actually happy to go on this trip, spending time with him and the boys…it was the….formalities….that would take a little getting used to for her. She was used to them being outside her grandfather's house when they went over for Sunday dinner. But for the next few days, they would be surrounding her as well.

In an hour's time, they had set up 'camp'; the cooler in the shade of a large umbrella, sitting between her and the Commissioner's chairs, with the boys' towels spread out just a couple feet in front. The boys, more than considerably fair skinned, had been slathered with sunscreen by their cousin till they were nearly clown white all over. Nicky herself, internally bemoaning the fact that she too burned all too easy, coated herself, if slightly less vigorously, in the cream as well, but did her best to stay out of the sun as much as possible with the exception of her legs, which she decided to let pop out of the umbrella's shadow, if only for a little while. She knew life in the shade, for the boys, at the beach, would be a near impossibility.

The day went on without major issues. Jack went off to the pier to do some fishing for a bit while Sean stayed back to try his hand at building a sand castle. Anytime any of them set foot more than 20 paces from the perimeter of the settlement, one of the detail would come out from their position, five or so feet back from the family gathering, and follow a short distance behind. Nicky buried her nose in a book, checking her cell phone seemingly every three minutes. Francis couldn't decide what caused him more concern, the title of the book he spied when her hands slipped down off the cover for a minute, or the incessant ring of "You've got Mail" with every text she received….She was away from the city….Why was it so difficult to keep it away from her…..even for a day? Nonetheless, desiring to avoid the needless argument, he said nothing of her chosen diversion….aside from asking her to turn the phone to vibrate.

After a picnic lunch of Linda's fried chicken, Erin's cornbread, and Jamie's best…potato chips and soda...the boys wanted to jump right back into the water again. Nicky insisted it was digestion time first, and with their grandfather seconding her stance, the boys shortly fell quiet, rustling up their hand held video games and settling in for the 20 minute wait required before they would be allowed to explode on the water. Frank wanted to throw up his hands in exasperation….but he resigned, this was what modern kids did today for entertainment….Had he thought of it, maybe back at the house he could have figured out how to loaded some of the family tablets with those book readers and purchased some of the classics for them to read, or even in one program he'd heard of, have read to them….Jane Eyre….Pride and Prejudice…..maybe even something newer, but worthwhile….Anything had to be better than THIS!

Lifting his eyes from his own book, he discovered the boys and Nicky had dozed off. It was time for swimming, but after spending all this time out and about in the sun, he thought it better for them to rest awhile. Grabbing some extra dry towels from the bag around the back of his chair, he laid them over the boys, tucking them under each ones elbows and ankles, and, seeing that they were already slightly pink, slipped his hands gently under Nicky's heels, sliding her legs into the shade just a few inches to the right of where she had already lain them. With that, he gave Jacobs a nod and a hand sign. Jacobs returned the nod, and took a few steps closer for a better view of the young ones. Matlin and Quinn then stepped forward as Frank started down the beach for an excursion of his own.

After a stroll up and down the shoreline, he made it back to the main building. He wanted to get into line himself and order up some fries….he couldn't decide between gravy or cheese…all he knew was that he wanted to do it himself. But, even though he was quite sure there was no Taliban or other terroristic presence in the area, he was also quite sure Matlin and especially Quinn would 'recommend' against it….So instead, he sent Quinn up for an order of 2 and 2….and whatever else he thought the staff might like…..He and his detail had gotten to be quite close over the past years. Like his granddaughter, it had taken him a while to get used to their near constant presence, but as much as their hovering was sometimes a nuisance, in some ways, it was also a comfort. Just now, he had walked from the settlement on the beach, knowing full well, his grandchildren wouldn't be harassed or harmed by any unknown passersby…Harassment….yes, they also came in very handy with the paparazzi….Some of this group were so incredulous, they'd shoot off flash bulbs no more than 20 inches from his face in a way that could send him tumbling down whatever steps he was on should he even slightly lose his footing. So many times he wanted to just rip the cameras and microphones from their hands and slam them down to the granite and pavement below…..but that was generally not the best move in support of the PR department, so he restrained himself. Then there was always the catch 22 as well. Going anywhere, especially on a personal outing with family, and his detail, always brought attention….It was hard to have a private moment, and there was always someone to bring up the expense of paying the personnel to accompany him to something like this beach trip…He always tried to keep his numbers as low as prudent, but still, there was always a complainer….The only alternatives were not going anywhere except for business, a sacrifice even He wasn't willing to make, or drop them completely and 'escape' to be with his family in a public place….a risk the Department wasn't willing to take….So, there he stayed, in the shadow of the boardwalk, while his subordinate placed his order upstairs.

As the wind blew and the music blared…Frank thought he heard a voice on the breeze….

"Frank….Frank Reagan….is it really you?"

The voice was a bit different than he remembered from over 40 years ago….but the face….that face he would have known if a century had passed.

Abigail Taylor…His Seventh grade crush. Though 3 years his senior, he couldn't help noticing her when he first started walking the halls of his Junior High. Always perfectly dressed, her long curls pinned up slightly…but not enough to stop them from bouncing and tossing just enough when she was her usual animated self, talking or laughing with her friends. She was lost to his sight when she went on to High School….then he found her again, if only for a year, when he followed suit. His admiration was from afar, as he was your average underclassmen from a middle class cop family and she was a Salutatorian Debutant from one of the richest families in New York, but for all those years, until he met his future wife, his only true romantic thoughts had been of her...

"Ms. Taylor….How are you?" He replied in his normal friendly but sedate tone…He couldn't remember the gossip from his last reunion….Had she become a Housewife….an Attorney….a Journalist…He didn't want to seem to jaded, but he couldn't help wondering what was this chance meeting going to turn out to be….a happy surprise, or another professional headache.

"It's Mrs. Rappaport now….or should I say….'the FORMER Mrs. Rappaport'…" she corrected.

"Ahh." Frank assimilated. Now he remembered. She had Married a journalist….and not the best kind either. "I'm…..sorry?"

"Why, I'm not….Should have gotten rid of him years ago….The only things I kept were the house, the alimony, and the name…..Opens even more doors than my old one did….and put the two together….you start wondering where the walls are!" She laughed. Frank smiled quietly in return. "So what brings you this far out…..I didn't think Police Commissioners followed leads….never mind all the way to Moriches….."

Frank let out a sincere chuckle this time. "I'm here with my grandchildren, getting some…." And before he could finish his sentence, Quinn had returned with his high cholesterol goodies.

"Ahh….still a health food nut I see…" she teased.

"And you…"

"Meeting a friend for lunch….and now I think I know at least a part of what I'm having." She smiled, pulling one gravy fry from the basket and slurping it up with as much dignity as possible…which wasn't much.

Frank couldn't help but wonder who the friend was….someone she had gotten to know in later life, or someone they both might have known from their childhood. He shook it off…it was none of his business…his business was back in the city….back with those children on the blankets, who by now must have wondered if he had driven back to the city already!

"Well, it was great to meet you here." He smiled again, trying not to sound too dismissive, yet wanting to remove himself from this strange, uncomfortable arrangement.

"We must get together." She insisted. "and I don't mean that in one of those passé 'say it but never do it' ways…..We really must."

"Well, here's my car…." He reached to where his pocket and wallet would normally be, but as he was wearing his swim trunks….they weren't…."….ehhh, Matilin here can give you my direct number." He motioned to his second to grab his pad and write it out.

"I think all of New York has it, 9-1-1 if I'm not mistaken…." She laughed.

"Well, if you're looking to call out the closest cop in Mastic, go for it….but if you're looking for me, I'd recommend this one." As he finished his statement, Matlin finished his writing, ripped the sheet from the pad, and handed it to his superior, who handed it to the lady before them.

"Well, I will certainly do that then" She beamed, "If you don't mind." With a two-fingered double flick she motioned Matlin to take a step back. The officer, with some confused hesitation, complied. Abigail stepped forward and reaching up on tip-toe, planted a light kiss on the gentleman's cheek.

"I look forward to catching up with you….very soon…." She smiled. Taking a step back and returning to the journey she was originally on.

Seriously…Frank thought to himself….Did that just happen…He didn't think she had even noticed him the entire time they were in school….and yet she remembered him all these years later….Ok, so he was far from having a very 'private' life, given his position. But it wasn't the Police Commissioner of the City of New York that she recognized….it was simply Frank Reagan.

A wobble in the platters Quinn was still trying to juggle snapped Frank back to reality again….Time to get moving back to the kids before the fries got cold…