“Look at those two,” I say to my spouse Janyce. “They look like they belong in a magazine, caption reading “Effortlessly Charleston”. I nod in the direction of a couple slowly sauntering hand-in-hand up the walkway to our left. Both of them have on matching cream-colored pressed shorts. He is wearing a brightly colored golf shirt, she, a wide-brimmed straw hat. They are tan and fresh and no doubt about to find a spot to do the same thing we are doing. We are sitting at a high-top table on the patio by a low brick wall sipping pale pink and green cocktails out of delicate miniature martini glasses adorned with lime wheels. The sky is a flat blue and the air is a sticky 95 degrees. Occasionally, a warm sea breeze gusts and I have to hold onto my own wide-brimmed hat with one hand.
We’re people watching at the end of a travel day. I’m studying a steady stream of teenage bikini-clad bodies stroll past us, parents chasing toddlers up the steps, a group of families dancing by the hired musician belting out an off-key version of Tainted Love. Janyce is chatting with the waiter.
“All I’m saying is don’t have six kids,” says drunk guy, holding his plastic cup full of beer as he pauses again at our table on his walk by. He is leaning a little more to the left this time. I laugh at his comment a little too forcefully. An old girlish habit of mine. I’m annoyed with myself.
“You know what I’m noticing about this place? It’s very straight,” I say.
“Yeah, you think so?” says Janyce.
“Yes, I do. You are just happy you were called sir earlier and you found the perfect gender neutral sandals in the golf shop,” I say.
“I did, didn’t I?” she says, looking proudly down at her feet.
The resort has an upscale Disney-esque feel to it. I like the plushness of our remodeled hotel room with its luxe white bathrobes. We took a walk earlier around the entire place and found the wedding ceremony location, the spot to pick up sandwiches and bottles of water. We ordered our beach chairs and umbrella that will be set up for us on the sand in the morning. We’ve got a handful of hours to make the most of a short trip and a few precious vacation days in South Carolina and I’m wrestling with the urge to do all the things or just soak in the hot steamy weather.
“Want to take a walk on the beach when the sun goes down?” I say.
“I like that plan,” says Janyce.
It’s Saturday morning and Janyce hands me a paper coffee cup and a bottle of water.
“Come join me on the balcony,” she says.
“I have a blog to write,” I say.
“You’re on vacation,” she says.
“You’re right, I’m on vacation.”
I have some more things to say, but they aren’t quite fully formed this morning. Plus, our beach chairs are waiting and we need to get started doing all the things.
Catch you up next week!