UNDERNEATH THE OVERSIZED UMBRELLA PLANTED in the sand, Geraldine Marlowe sat in a canvas chair, her parasol at her side. Slowly she moved her fan back and forth.
"I can't remember a summer as hot as this," she said breathlessly. "It must be over ninety here in the shade."
Her husband grunted from the chair next to hers, his head still immersed in the Boston newspaper, which arrived on the Cape one day late.
"What did you say. Harry?"
He folded his paper and looked at his wife. "That Wilson's a damn fool!"
Geraldine was still looking at the ocean. "What makes you say that, dear?"
He tapped the paper vigorously. "That League of Nations thing. Now he says he's going to Europe and see to it that peace is insured."
Geraldine looked at him. "I think that's a wonderful idea," she said mildly. "After all, we were lucky this time. Laddie was too young to go. The next time, it may be different."
He snorted again. "There won't be a next time. Germany is through forever. Besides, what can they do to us? They're on the other side of the ocean. We can just sit back and let them kill each other off if they want to start another war."
Geraldine shrugged her shoulders. "You better move in closer under the umbrella, dear," she said. "You know how red you get in the sun."
Harrison Marlowe got up and moved his chair farther under the umbrella. He settled back in the chair with a sigh and buried himself in the newspaper once more.
Rina appeared suddenly in front of her mother. "It's been an hour since I had lunch, Mother," she said. "Can I go into the water now?"
"May I," Geraldine corrected automatically. She looked at Rina. She had grown up this summer. It was hard to believe she was only thirteen.
She was tall for her age, almost five three, only one inch shorter than Laddie, who was three years older. Her hair was bleached completely white from the sun and her skin was deeply tanned, so dark that her almond-shaped eyes seemed light by comparison. Her legs were long and graceful, her hips just beginning to round a little and her breasts came full and round against her little girl's bathing suit, more like a sixteen-year-old's.
"May I, Mother?" Rina asked.
"You may," Geraldine nodded. "But be careful, dear, don't swim too far out. I don't want you to tire yourself."
But Rina was already gone. Geraldine Marlowe half smiled to herself. Rina was like that; she was like none of the other girls Geraldine knew. Rina didn't play like a girl. She could swim and outrun any of the boys that Laddie played with and they knew it. She didn't pretend to be afraid of the water or hide from the sun. She just didn't care whether her skin was soft and white.
Harrison Marlowe looked up from his paper. "I have to go up to the city tomorrow. We're closing the Standish loan."
"Yes, dear." The faint, shrill voices of the children floated lazily back toward them. "We'll have to do something about Rina," she said thoughtfully.
"Rina?" he questioned. "What about Rina?"
She turned to him. "Haven't you noticed? Our little girl's growing up."
He cleared his throat. "Umm – yes. But she's still a baby."
Geraldine Marlowe smiled. It was true what they said about fathers. They spoke more about their sons but secretly they delighted in their daughters. "She's become a woman in the past year," she said.
His face flushed and he looked down at his paper. In a vague way, he had realized it, but this was the first time they had spoken about it openly. He looked toward the water, trying to find Rina in the screaming, splashing crowd. "Don't you think we ought to call her back? It's dangerous for her to be so far out in the deep water."
Geraldine smiled at him. Poor Harrison. She could read him like a book. It wasn't the water he was afraid of, it was the boys. She shook her head. "No. She's perfectly safe out there. She can swim like a fish."
His embarrassed gaze met her own. "Don't you think you ought to have a little talk with her? Maybe explain some things to her. You know, like I did with Laddie two years ago?"
Geraldine's smile turned mischievous. She loved to see her husband, who was usually so sure of himself, positive about his tiniest conviction, flounder around like this. "Don't be silly, Harry." She laughed. "There's nothing I have to explain to her now. When a thing like that happens, it's just natural to tell her everything she should know."
"Oh," he said in a relieved voice.
She turned thoughtful again. "I think Rina's going to be one of those lucky children who make the transition from adolescence without any of the embarrassing stages," she said. "There's not the slightest trace of gawkiness about her and her skin is as clear as a bell. Not a sign of a blemish or a pimple. Not like Laddie at all."
She turned back toward the ocean. "Just the same, I think we'd better do something about Rina. I’d better get her some brassieres."
Marlowe didn't speak.
She turned to him again. "I honestly think her bust is as large as mine already, I do hope it doesn't get too big. She's going to be a very beautiful girl."
He smiled slowly. "Why shouldn't she be?"
She reached for his hand, quietly returning his smile. They both knew what he meant. Neither of them ever thought of Rina as anything but their own natural child.
"Would you mind very much if I came into town with you tonight?" she asked softly. "It would be nice to stay in a hotel for one evening."
He pressed her hand. "I think it would be very nice."
"Molly could look after the children," she said. "And I’d have time to do a little shopping tomorrow before we return."
He looked at her and grinned. "I agree with you," he said in a mock-solemn voice. "The cottage down here is a little crowded. I'll call the hotel and make sure they have a shakerful of Martinis waiting for us the moment we arrive."
She dropped his hand. "You lecher!" she exclaimed, laughing.
Rina swam with easy, purposeful strokes, her eyes fixed on the diving raft out past the rolling surf. Laddie should be out there with his friend Tommy Randall. She came up out of the water almost at their feet. The boys were stretched out on their backs, faces up to the sun, and they sat up as Rina began to climb the ladder.
Laddie's face showed his annoyance at her invasion of their sanctum. "Why don't you stay back there with the girls?"
"I've got as much right out here as you have," she retorted, after catching her breath, straightening the shoulder straps of her too-small bathing suit.
"Aw, go on," Tommy said, looking up. "Let her stay."
Rina glanced at him swiftly from the corners of her eyes and saw his gaze fixed on her partly revealed breasts. It was at that exact moment that she began to turn into a woman.
Now even Laddie was staring at her with a curious look she had never before noticed in his eyes. Instinctively she let her hands fall to her sides. If that was all it took to make them accept her, let them look. She sat down opposite them, still feeling their gaze on her.
A dull ache began to throb in her breasts and she looked down at herself. Her nipples were clearly limned against the black jersey of her bathing suit. She looked up again at the boys. They were staring at her quite openly now.
"What are you looking at?"
The two boys exchanged quick, embarrassed glances and immediately looked away. Tommy fixed his eyes out over the water and Laddie looked down at the raft.
She stared at Laddie. "Well?"
The red flush crept up from Laddie's throat.
"I saw you. You both were looking at my chest!" she said accusingly.
The boys again exchanged quick glances. Laddie got to his feet. "Come on, Tommy," he said. "It's getting too crowded out here!"
He dove from the raft and a moment later, his friend followed. Rina watched them swimming toward the shore for a moment, then stretched back on the raft and stared up into the bright sky. Boys were strange creatures, she thought.
The tight bathing suit cut into her breasts. She shrugged her shoulders and her breasts leaped free of the encumbering suit. She looked down at herself.
They were white against the dark tan of her arms and throat and the nipples were flushed and pink and fuller than she had ever seen them before. Tentatively she touched them with her fingertips. They were hard as tiny pebbles and a warm, pleasant kind of pain flashed through them.
The warmth of the sun began to fill them with a sweet, gentle ache. Slowly she began to massage the ache away and gradually the warmth spilled from her breasts down into her body. She felt herself go hazy with a contentment she had never known before.