Beach Blanket Buff
(August 12-15, 2015)
1: Mental Health Day
On Wednesday afternoon, after the lunch rush had died down, a slightly frazzled Wendy had a question for Soos: "Hey, man, any way that I could have Saturday off?"
"Huh?" Soos, just back from a Mystery Tour, asked, straightening his red string tie while studying his reflection in the mirror. "Uh, dare I ask why?"
"Mental health day," Wendy said, leaning against the door frame. "Seriously, we been goin' non-stop ever since the first of July. The Shack's been crazy busy, and we had lots more junk to deal with, too. All that biz about Big Bad Brujo, then the bawdy bad brumas—time's running short before the Pines twins have to leave us, and I've been wanting to show Dip a few places before he and Mabel have to go back home. It'd be real nice if he and I could have Saturday off so's I could drive him around the Valley, we could have a picnic, and all. How about it?"
"Well," Soos said, adjusting his eyepatch, "of course, Saturday's bound to be busy with Woodstick and all, but on the other hand, we'll run the Shack on a shortened schedule so's we can park the RV over near the festival and sell merch there. Dude, we did awesome business last year! On the other hand, we'll need somebody here and also at the festival. On the other hand, Abuelita will take care of the kids all day, and Mr. Pines and Sheila will be workin' in the Shack. And we won't offer lunch service 'cause of the short hours, so Teek won't have to cook, so he and Mabel could help out some with me in the RV and go to Woodstick to hear some music after we close the mobile Shack at four. On the other hand—dude, I think I ran out of hands!"
"What's the verdict?" Wendy asked, stifling a yawn. "Yea or nay?"
Soos shrugged. "Umm. Sure, Wendy. But you and Dip are goin' to Woodstick, aren't you?"
"Yeah, Saturday evening. I sorta got burned out on it last year, but there's some bands scheduled from four o'clock to midnight I'd love to catch. But Saturday morning I just want to have a picnic-and-drive-date with Dipper."
"You got it, Wendy," Soos said, aiming his forefinger and clicking his tongue. "Deal. You guys have fun."
"I can guarantee it," Wendy told him with a smile.
She immediately let Dipper know. He was working the register, but it was a pretty slow day for that summer, and they were managing with just the one gift-shop cash register open. Wendy said, "Good thing is, with everybody at Woodstick, the lake'll be practically deserted. We'll take Dad's boat out to the Falls and you can show me this mystical hidden beach."
"If we can even get through the waterfall," Dipper said. "I'm not real sure we can. The first time we did it, we just rammed Soos's boat through at top speed and beached it. Getting back out again was hard. About all we had left of the boat afterward was the hull and the engine. I mean, this is a lot heavier waterfall than Ghost Falls is, and there's not much overhang on either side."
"Aw, you'll figure out a way," Wendy said cheerfully. "I'm gonna wear my terrycloth beach cover-up, but under it—" she waggled her eyebrows. "Somethin' red, man!"
"I'm . . . not gonna have to wear that Speedo, am I?" Dipper asked. "I mean, I love you in your red bikini and all, but let's face it, tight swimwear doesn't do much for me. And besides, when we get, you know—friendly and all, it, uh, the Speedo sort of binds."
"Don't want you to get bound, man," Wendy said. Then, because a tourist was approaching with a deck of Gravity Falls monster cards, she whispered, "Unless you enjoy that kind of thing."
"Uh, no."
The lady put the pack of cards on the counter. "How much are these, young man?"
"Um, well, the deck is five dollars, tax included. There are fifty-two pictures of real Gravity Falls oddities, plus a bonus twelve cards with the most popular Mystery Shack attractions."
"I'll take it!" the lady said happily, rummaging in her purse for a five-dollar bill.
Dipper rang her up, and as she left with her bagged souvenir, Wendy punched his arm lightly. "How's about it? You got any interest in playing around with ropes and handcuffs and junk?"
"Not . . . this time," Dipper said. "But seriously, I don't want to wear the Speedo, just my regular old swimming trunks, if that's OK with you."
"Dipper," Wendy said, sounding serious, "that's fine with me. Heck, you don't even have to wear swim trunks to please me."
"Ah, uh, I—OK," Dipper said. They were alone in the gift shop at the moment, at least until Soos got back with the tram-load of tourists he was just taking on the Mystery Trail tour. Dipper laughed at himself for blushing. "Why do I get so embarrassed when you tease me? I mean, you and I—" he looked furtively around, but Teek's shift had ended, and he and Mabel were off somewhere, and Dipper whispered, "took a shower together!"
"Well, yeah, but remember, we were kinda celebrating not drowning," Wendy said. "It was more a thing of just enjoying being alive than of getting romantic. And let me tell you, I couldn't help noticing that you were impressively glad to be alive!"
Dipper gave her a weak grin. "I guess this falls under the heading of 'Banter.' Uh, playful banter was number one on my list of how to ask you to dance with me."
"Did we banter?" Wendy asked.
With a sheepish grin, Dipper said, "So here's a casual question: What's your favorite snack food?"
"Ohhh, that was banter!" Wendy said. "And that was number one on your list?"
"Yep. Hey, I was only twelve."
"Number one should've been, 'Hey, Wendy, want to dance?'" she said.
He squeezed her hand. "I know that—now."
She gave him a quick peck of a kiss on his nose. "OK, seriously, we'll watch ourselves. We'll get snuggly if we want to, but we won't take anything off or cross the line, 'cept maybe mentally. I promise. That OK with you?"
"Oh, yeah," Dipper said. Their mental make-out sessions were very, let's say, satisfying for both of them. Maybe not as much as going full-out physical would have been, but they had promised each other to wait for that kind of activity until Dipper turned eighteen—two years and two weeks to go.
But Wendy had already solemnly warned him that the moment he and Mabel blew out the eighteenth birthday candles, all bets were off.
Dipper had been increasingly regretting the fast approach of summer's end—his and Mabel's sixteenth birthday was August thirty-first, but that would also be their last day in Gravity Falls until the following June, unless they could talk their parents into letting them visit during Christmas break. Mom had already planned a big, gaudy Christmas celebration, really their first one in their new house, so that looked iffy.
The prospect of nine Wendy-less months was weighing down on Dipper. He looked forward to a whole day alone with her.
When they had time on Thursday and Friday, they discussed what to take—Wendy said she had a big yellow beach blanket with a Valentine heart pattern, and they'd need sunblock (more for the boat ride than the beach, since the beach was actually in a cavern behind Gravity Falls Falls, not dark, but shielded from full sun by the cascade of water), a picnic lunch, changes of clothes, this, that, and the other. And they couldn't forget some means of waterproofing, because lying on a soggy beach blanket in a shadowy cavern didn't sound like much fun.
They brainstormed ways, though, and were confident they could cope. As though to reassure Dipper, Wendy was the one who suggested a kind of schedule. Making lists and schedules was more his thing than hers.
But she said, "OK, write this one down. Saturday's our rest day from our run anyhow. Now, I say since we're not exercising, let's get an early start. First thing in the morning, we'll drive around the Valley, and I'll show you some spots we haven't visited. There's the Goofer Hole, and the steam springs—a bubbling mud pot, and a few kinda lame geysers—oh, and some cool overlooks with fantastic views, the Crystal Cave, and four or five other places I'd like you to see."
"Sounds great," Dipper said, jotting furiously with a chewed-up pen.
"Yeah, then in the middle of the day, we'll either have our picnic lunch and go out to the hidden beach 'round noon, or if we can get the food through the Falls and keep it dry, we might eat on the beach. Guess we'll decide that once we see how hard it's gonna be."
"How, uh, how hard—?"
"How hard to get to the beach through the waterfall," Wendy explained. "Get your mind out of the gutter, Dip!"
"No, that wasn't what I meant—you're teasing me again."
"Yep," Wendy agreed, wrinkling her nose. "OK, so I'll fix up a nice picnic lunch for us. What do you say about the time? What about setting out around seven in the morning? We can pick up some drive-through breakfast stuff and then head for the hills."
"Sounds good. I'll get dressed and everything and meet you down the driveway," Dipper said, clicking his pen. "Nobody else will be up at that hour, so I can slip off without Mabel deciding she and Teek want to tag along."
"They couldn't anyway, 'cause they're working the RV, starting at ten," Wendy said. "And Melody and Soos are relieving them at two, so they can go to Woodstick. Oh, speaking of the festival, did you remember to ask Stan—"
Dipper reached in his shirt pocket and produced two tickets. "Score!"
"Cool! He gave you two tickets!"
Dipper admitted, "Uh—well, not exactly for free, but he let me have the twenty-five percent employees' discount. That's OK, I could afford it. These are VIP, though—he upgraded me at no extra charge, so we get seats close to the stage. When's, uh, when are Robbie and Tambry due back from California?"
"Saturday morning, and then the Tombstones are gonna debut their new album at seven Saturday night."
"It's all recorded and finished, then?" Dipper asked.
"That's why they've been in LA for two weeks, doing the final edits. MP3 version's ready. Gonna be a CD version, too, but that probably won't be finished and packaged until September, Tambry texted and told me all that. Hey, you know that 'Cold Creek' song of yours made the final cut?"
"Yeah, I heard," Dipper said. "Robbie called a couple of weeks ago and said he had to offer me ASCAP-standard royalties, so I signed the papers and all. But I've arranged for whatever little money it makes to go to the wildlife fund. The Gravity Falls one, I mean."
"Aw, sweet," Wendy said. That charity was one Ford had set up with the income from one of his and one of Fiddleford's patents to benefit creatures of Gravity Falls, specifically the sentient ones. If a Gnome or Manotaur needed medical help, they could draw on the fund. If Mrs. Lupei the werewolf needed a loan to help her get started as she and her daughter Ulva established their home, they, too, could benefit from the fund. It was a cause close to Dipper's heart.
And Wendy's, though she didn't make a big deal out of it. After all, she had once looked forward to the time she could move away from boring old Gravity Falls and live in a big city like Portland.
Except now, a little more mature and a lot more in love—
Well, she'd started to think that, after all, eventually she could call this place home.
For good.