awkwardness is gone.
“Actually,” he continues, “I’m getting some hard-core beach tutoring from Izzy, and I think that means I need some wardrobe adjustments.”
“Looking for anything in particular?” asks Nicole.
“I’m guessing I need some new trunks.”
They both look at each other in total confusion.
“Board shorts,” I say, translating. “They speak a different version of English in Wisconsin.”
They laugh some more, but Ben doesn’t seem to mind.
“You don’t say ‘trunks’ either?” asks Ben. “It’s like ‘pop’ all over again.”
Because the shop is a converted house, it has a homey feel that’s very different from Surf City. The staff even picked up Mickey and Mo’s habit of referring to the different rooms by what they once were. That’s why surfboards are in the garage, women’s swimwear is in the family room, and accessories are in the kitchen, where the counter and shelf space are perfect for displaying everything from sunblock and sunglasses to key chains and waterproof wallets.
“We’re going to the dining room,” I tell the girls.
“We’re eating again?” Ben asks.
“No,” I tell him. “The dining room is where we put everything that’s on sale.”
“That’s good,” he says. “Despite its obvious glamour and prestige, the Parks and Recreation Department doesn’t pay particularly well.”
“Don’t worry,” says Sophie. “We’ve all got employee discounts.”
“Yeah,” adds Nicole. “We’ll take care of you.”
I smile because this makes me think that he’s passed his first test with them. This is confirmed about fifteen minutes later when Ben carries an armful of clothing into a fitting room and Sophie and Nicole rush over to me like football players about to tackle a quarterback.
“We approve,” Sophie says with a firm whisper.
“Definitely,” adds Nicole. “By the way, you look really cute today.”
“Thank you.”
“You owe me so bad,” Sophie adds. “Not only am I the one who made you eat with him, but I’m also the one who swapped shifts with you for the rest of the summer. Don’t forget about that.”
“I already paid you back. Don’t forget who bought your ticket at the movie.”
“I think this is worth more than a movie. This deserves—”
She’s interrupted when Ben comes out of the fitting room wearing a pair of navy blue board shorts. They look great, but we’re all a little distracted by the fact that he’s shirtless and—surprise, surprise—his muscles and abs come fully loaded. (Thank you, cross-country.) The three of us are literally speechless, a reaction that he mistakes for disapproval.
“They don’t look good?” he asks, pointing at the shorts.
“No,” I say with a cough. “They look . . . great.”
“Yeah,” Sophie adds. “Nice trunks.”
The mention of trunks makes him smile, unleashing the dimples again. “I know, I know. I promise I’ll get the hang of it all.”
He is totally oblivious to his current overall hotness factor, which only makes him that much more appealing. He goes back into the fitting room, and the others turn to me and we’re speechless again.
“She’s right,” Nicole finally says. “That’s worth way more than a movie.”
It takes everything we’ve got not to bust out laughing. I can honestly say I have never felt the way I feel at this particular moment. I know it sounds pathetic, but it’s making me a bit dizzy. I’m having trouble processing the whole thing.
By the time we’re done, he’s picked up another pair of board shorts, two Surf Sisters T-shirts, and a pair of inexpensive but comfortable flip-flops.
“Give us some catwalk action,” Sophie says. “Let’s see how it plays.”
Ben goes along with this and walks back and forth in front of the register, accenting it with some goofy fashion poses. When he’s done, he turns to the three of us and asks, “So what do you think?”
“I’d believe he was an islander,” says
Legs McNeil, Jennifer Osborne, Peter Pavia