Theneverybody’’sprettydreary, teachesSundayschoolandtherest, buthedoesn’, “Girls, thisisn’tthebeach.”
Queenieblushes, thoughmaybeit’sjustabrushofsunburnIwasnoticingforthefirsttime, nowthatshewassoclose.“Mymotheraskedmetopickupajarofherringsnacks.”Hervoicekindofstartledme, thewayvoicesdowhenyouseethepeoplefirst, comingoutsoflatanddumbyetkindoftony, too, thewayittickedover “pickup” and “snacks”.’sarealracyaffairSchlitzintallglasseswith “They’llDoItEveryTime”cartoonsstencilledon.
“That’sallright,” Lengelsaid.“Butthisisn’tthebeach.” Hisrepeatingthisstruckmeasfunny, asifithadjustoccurredtohim, andhehadbeenthinkingalltheseyearstheA & ’tlikemysmiling — asIsayhedoesn’tmissmuch — butheconcentratesongivingthegirlsthatsadSunday-schoolsuperintendentstare.
Queenie’sblushisnosunburnnow, andtheplumponeinplaid, thatIlikedbetterfromtheback — areallysweetcan — pipesup, “Weweren’.”
“Thatmakesnodifference,” Lengeltellsher, andIcouldseefromthewayhiseyeswentthathehadn’tnoticedshewaswearingatwo-piecebefore.“Wewantyoudecentlydressedwhenyoucomeinhere.”
“Wearedecent,” Queeniesayssuddenly, herlowerlippushing, gettingsorenowthatsheremembersherplace, aplacefromwhichthecrowdthatrunstheA & .
“Girls, Idon’’sourpolicy.” ’.
Allthiswhile, thecustomershadbeenshowingupwiththeircartsbut, youknow, sheep, seeingascene, theyhadallbuncheduponStokesie, whoshookopenapaperbagasgentlyaspeelingapeach, , mostofallLengel, whoasksme, “Sammy, haveyourungupthispurchase?”
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