Chapter Four: Sandbox Friends
Julie hung beach towels over the backs of several wooden lounge chairs down on her family's dock. The dock was a large rectangle, with a boatlift housing the Gaffneys' 24-foot deck boat in the middle, and a separate Jet Ski lift over on the far end. The water around the dock was about six feet deep, but got dramatically deeper just twenty feet out – a reminder that the North Atlantic was a mere boat ride away.
When she was a little girl visiting Maine's rocky, lighthouse-dotted coastline, Julie's dad liked to tell her that Big Ben and the Eiffel Tower could be seen if she squinted hard enough. When Little Julie finally determined that this was an impossible task, she informed Steven – with the absolute seriousness of a toddler – that Daddy would have to take her to England and France because the squinting didn't work.
Heh, he never told me to squint after that.
Returning to the present, Julie finished her tanning preparations by leaving a few bottles of sun screen on a wooden end table. Like the chairs, the dock's tables were hand-made by her late carpenter of a grandfather. They were faithfully sanded and stained every spring by Steven and Junior, a tradition that Julie's presence in Minnesota excluded her from.
But if I was here, would I really wanna do that work?
Deciding that reverence was easier to think about than to practice, Julie made her way up the steps and around the house to the front porch.
She saw her reflection in the storm door on the house's main entrance, but quickly looked away. Her dark blue bikini was covered by one of Junior's white, extra-large Boston University T-shirts that fit her like a nightgown. She was not used to walking around so scantily dressed, but her girlfriends wanted to come over and tan, so it would look weird if she didn't join in. Before she could enter the house, Julie heard a vehicle approach.
Turning around, she observed a wood-paneled Plymouth Voyager make its way up the driveway.
That'll be the girls.
Expecting her friends, she jogged down the steps to greet them.
"Hey, Julie!" Sue Karsen smiled from the driver's seat of the van.
Julie immediately recognized Claire's mother, whose naturally brown hair had mostly grayed, only to be dyed blonde.
"Hey, Mrs. Karsen," Julie then looked around as four girls emerged from the van. "Hey guys!"
She turned back to the driver.
"Do you wanna come in? I'm sure Mom would love to share some tea with you."
But Sue cringed at the thought of choking down one of Karen Gaffney's herbal blends.
"Thanks, dear. I think I'll pass though," she then looked to Claire, who was now standing next to Julie. "And Claire, just call me when you're ready to be picked up."
The comely sophomore nodded.
"Thanks, Mom!"
Claire was already in her turquoise bikini top and wore a pair of denim shorts to cover the matching bottom. It looked to Julie like her old friend already had a nice base for tanning, which prompted a tinge of jealousy.
I'm whiter than a fish's belly, Julie cringed.
In addition to her moca skin, Claire also had attractive blonde highlights in her long, brown hair. Had she attended Eden Hall, the tall, brown-eyed bombshell would definitely have qualified for a seat at the Beautiful People's table.
"Alright, you girls have fun!" Sue offered before carefully backing out of the driveway.
Julie suddenly felt herself getting squeezed by Claire.
"It's so great to finally see you! It sucked how we couldn't hang out in the spring."
Spring break at Eden Hall had not coincided with spring break at Bangor High, which meant that the two old friends had not seen each other since around Christmas.
Julie returned the embrace with a nod.
"Yeah, I missed you…all of you," she looked around at Emily, Lauren, and Katie – ELK – to include them in her words.
She was relieved to discover that Emily, Lauren, and Katie were about as pale as she was. The goalie even felt a bit of guilty pleasure over the likely prospect that auburn-haired Lauren would turn red in the sun. Bangor High was full of pale faces during the school year, but during the summer, the ability to tan rather than burn was a symbol of elite status.
The ELK girls all stood around Julie's height at five-six, while Claire stood at five-ten.
No doubt those get a lot of attention from the boys, Julie thought, scanning her friend's long legs.
Although Claire was 'the Pretty One' in their little clique, Julie doubted that either of her blonde friends – Emily and Katie – or red-haired Lauren for that matter, had any difficulty in attracting guys.
After a quick exchange of hugs with ELK, Julie led her friends down to the dock. It was 11:30 in the morning, and with hardly a cloud in the sky, the tanning conditions were ideal. The girls stripped off their street clothes and applied just enough sun screen to keep things safe, then laid out their towels before absorbing the warm, golden rays.
"So Julie, any hot guys on your team?" Claire asked once they were all settled.
"Aw, yeah. That's gotta be the best part about playing hockey!" Emily enthused. "All those hot, hockey-ripped dudes walking around topless in the locker room…"
"Stop, you're making me jealous!" Lauren protested.
"Just think of all those poor girls at school," Katie began. "They can't compete with Julie's inside track to all those studs," she peered over her shades as she turned to Julie. "I hope you're not keeping them all to yourself, Julie. Share the wealth!"
The goalie rolled her eyes beneath her sunglasses. After all of the compulsory small talk, the first question out of her friends' collective mouth was about guys.
"They're definitely great players," she declared. "Our captain, Charlie, has this really quick triple deke that no one else can mimic. And we've got a defenseman, Fulton, whose slap shot is so powerful that just its ricochet can knock a man out cold; we've also got another defenseman, Russ, who has this knucklepuck that changes directions and drives goalies crazy…"
Julie trailed off as she observed her friends' reactions.
They look like I have lobsters crawling out of my ears.
"Uh…yeah. That's cool, I guess," Claire offered. "But I meant more along the lines of what they look like, not how they play."
ELK murmured in agreement.
"Well...they're all ok, I guess," Julie shrugged. "No weird deformities. Most of their teeth are still in place. And I haven't noticed any scar tissue, either."
Claire laughed.
"Ok, maybe Minnesota hockey boys aren't hot like Maine hockey boys. I guess you don't have a Chris Powell out there."
"He's yummy," Emily agreed.
"I would," Lauren nodded.
"Puberty's done that boy good," Katie declared.
Bemused, Julie laughed out loud.
"What, Pee-Pants Powell? He's really what you guys consider 'hot'?"
"Oh come on, Julie. You know those stains weren't really pee stains," Claire shot back. "He was just really clumsy. He still spills drinks even now, actually."
"Hey, I love Pee-Pants like any teammate," Julie insisted. "In fact, I always talked to him even when you four wouldn't give him the time of day."
"Yeah...but he's like hot now," Claire pointed out.
"And he's got a car," Emily added.
Julie rolled her eyes again.
It's so easy to be a boy. If you can drive, and you don't look like the troll under the bridge, you're golden.
"Hello, ladies," Mark called out suavely as he carried his battery-powered boom-box over his shoulder.
Junior tagged along behind his younger brother, a pair of red gym shorts resting on top of the hard blue cooler that he carried.
Julie grumbled as Mark approached. His appeal to girls – in addition to being a source of genuine mystery to Julie – was another example of life's unfairness.
"Markey!" Claire squealed with delight.
She got up and gave the bronze-skinned Gaffney boy a hug that made Julie cringe.
Too close, Claire. Too close.
"M' lady," Mark bowed and kissed Claire's hand like a 'gentleman.'
ELK looked on with jealousy as their friend received the attention of arguably the hottest senior at Bangor High. Mark wore an open, white button shirt along with a pair of dressy, cream-colored shorts and brown sandals. Fair-skinned Junior, by contrast, wore black gym shorts, gray sneakers and a white Boston University T-shirt identical to the one that Julie had been wearing.
"I figured you lovely ladies could use some liquid refreshment," Mark declared, gesturing toward the cooler. "And I brought along a CD that I'm sure you will find most soothing." He brushed a strand of blond hair out of his face before switching on the CD player.
Junior rolled his eyes as the New Age music began to play.
It's like our dock is his spa.
It had in fact been Karen's idea to bring water down to the dock, but Mark could never resist an opportunity to hit on scantily-clad sophomores. Junior noticed that Julie was still laying on her towel as her friends swarmed around Mark. The elder Gaffney boy grabbed a chilled bottle of water along with the red gym shorts, then headed over to his sister, who was lying belly-up in her bikini.
"Catch, Sis," he tossed the bottle over to Julie, who grabbed it out of the air with one hand. "Nice one, Cat," he said with a buck-toothed grin.
"You never could get anything past me, Junior," the goalie teased, sitting up and opening the water bottle.
Junior nodded.
"You were the best preparation for college hockey that I ever could've asked for," he offered, dragging a lounge chair. "You even made Casanova over there a semi-decent forward."
Julie looked over at Mark, who was laying down and accepting a massage from Claire. Unbeknownst to Julie, all four of her friends had fiercely contested that privilege. Mark prevented a catfight only by allowing the girls to take turns, beginning with Claire.
"I've never seen such a good player just walk away from it," Julie sighed.
"Meh," Junior shrugged. "A: Mark wasn't that good, B: he doesn't miss his playing days, so you shouldn't miss them on his behalf, and C: he's hardly deprived," the BU forward added with a bitter laugh.
"It's hard not to miss those days," Julie protested. "He was so much easier to deal with back then."
Junior laughed out loud, causing his sapphire eyes to sparkle.
"I guess you've got a point there."
Julie stood up and reached for her T-shirt, satisfied that she had gotten enough sun. As she turned back to face Junior, she was greeted with a pair of red gym shorts that nearly hit her in the face. But it was nothing that her catlike reflexes couldn't handle.
"Have I ever told you that you're the world's best brother?" She asked, sliding the shorts over her bare legs.
"Not lately, but a little reminder never hurt anyone."
Julie giggled.
"Well, you are. Just don't let that go to your head. I don't need another Mark in my life."
"Got it," Junior nodded. "By the way, my offer to drive you into town still stands."'
Julie finished the last of her water, then nodded.
"Thanks, I'd like that…right after scoring drills."
Junior's eyes lit up in excitement.
"You don't have to."
The goalie looked over at her friends. It was now Katie's turn to massage Mark.
"Believe me, there's literally nothing that I'd rather be doing right now."
"Alright," Junior agreed. "Grab your pads and your blades, then. And try not to cry after I've embarrassed you."
"Ha! Let's just see if you can keep your eyes dry, after I've shut you down…yet again."
"What was that?" Junior asked rhetorically. "I can't hear you, I'm too busy beating your ass to the driveway!"
The BU forward was out of his chair and off to the races.
Julie laughed, then got up and gave chase to Junior. She had no idea why girls idolized the Mark Gaffneys of the world while ignoring the fun, loyal, and good-nautred Juniors. The blue-eyed Gaffney worked his heart out to be the best player that he could possibly be, and in all the years that Julie had known her brother, she could only remember a couple times when she actually heard him complain about something.
If she had to end up in one of those horrible relationship thingies, she hoped to be lucky enough to be 'trapped' with someone like Junior.
The hour of blocking Junior's shots in the driveway flew by when they were forced to stop to allow a pizza delivery boy access to the driveway.
"Tell everyone that pizza's here!" Karen called from the front porch after paying the delivery boy.
Julie looked to her brother.
"Could you do that please? I really don't like seeing Mark and my sandbox friends feel each other up."
Junior chuckled.
"No sweat, Sis."
He turned and jogged back toward the dock while Julie made her way to the garage to put away her sports gear before heading up to the house.
Eventually, the seven sun-kissed teenagers made their way into the Gaffney dining room to find two sheet pizzas, a large bowl of freshly-tossed salad, and chilled cans of Moxie waiting for them.
Ah teenagers: the easiest people in the world to feed, Karen mused, standing in the archway that led back into the kitchen.
"Eat up, everyone," she cheerfully commanded the group.
The Gaffney matriarch was in a good mood now that she was on 'kissing terms' with her husband again. With Steven about to jet off to Philadelphia on business, it was that time in their relationship cycle when the couple kissed and made up. Then, Steven would depart and they would miss each other. Invariably, he would return home, they would argue, then kiss and make up in time for him to fly somewhere else.
Karen turned back into the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of champagne along with two flutes, then made her way down to the dock to join her husband.
Mark shuddered at his mother's giddiness.
If there's a minimum age for consent, there should be a maximum age as well.
But the sight of the champagne bottle inspired a bit of witty banter.
"You know, the French have a little saying to help open a bottle of champagne the proper way," Mark declared.
Julie's friends trained attentive gazes onto him. They were less interested in what was being said, than the fact that an interesting person was talking.
"They say, 'a cork should sigh like a contented woman, not pop like a contented man'."
The girls laughed.
"Where do you learn all this stuff?" Claire asked, stroking Mark's bronze forearm.
"I actually learned that last bit over spring break, in France's Champagne Department."
"Wow," the girls murmured, impressed with his worldly sophistication.
Julie knew for a fact that Mark's French class never left Paris, but she decided not to call her brother out on his BS, doubting that her friends would believe her anyway. Instead, she turned to Junior.
"On your double stick-side fake, you're hesitating for about half a second," she declared. "It gives me time to recover and block."
Junior smiled, grateful for the honest feedback and the chance to sharpen his game.
"Thanks, Sis. You did really well. I mean, I play for one of the top college programs in the country and you still gave me fits."
"Then get better."
"I will," he chortled. "If you promise to take a compliment every once in a while."
Julie blushed at the truth of her brother's response. She seldom got compliments, so she handled them awkwardly.
"Sorry, I'll try to get better at that.
"Don't worry about it," Junior re-filled his plate. "When you're done eating, hit the showers and change into something nice. Where I'm taking you, you'll wanted to dress to impress."
"Oh?"
But Junior was too busy shoveling pizza into his mouth to elaborate. Julie watched her brother, somewhat in wonder, as he devoured his second full helping. In health class, the teacher had told her that puberty gives teenagers a voracious appetite. At nineteen, Junior was probably past that, but he was a frightfully active hockey player who spent most of his free time training. The only other person she had seen eat like that was Goldberg, but no one would ever accuse him of excess training.
"Why aren't you eating?" Junior asked his sister. "Your body needs the energy."
"Heh, what – are you gonna tell me that pizza is 'packed with nutrients'?"
Julie could never forget Goldberg's nutritional advice, but Junior shrugged.
"In a weird way, it kinda is," he replied. "You've got your veggies and your proteins, and of course your carbs. Plenty of Vitamin D in the cheese."
"Ok, you sold me," Julie chuckled, reaching for another square. "So where are we going that requires me to dress up?"
"You'll see."