Pulled Under

“You bet,” I say. “Why don’t you walk with me?”

Rebecca and I walk together for a couple of blocks and I begin to feel less self-conscious. Once that happens, I help Ben corral the kids, and we start doing a little routine in which we stop, stutter step, and start marching again all in unison. They get a kick out of it, and it stops them from wandering off so much. By the time we reach the bandshell, we’ve got the step down and I’m actually enjoying myself.

“Thank you,” he says as we reach the parking lot. He just drops all the gear that’s been handed to him.

“You’re welcome,” I say.

I give him a moment to catch his breath, and once he does, I ask, “Do you have time for lunch?”

He looks around at the mass of kids. “I need to wait here until their parents pick them up.”

I think it through. “How about if I get the food and meet you back here? Hopefully by then you’ll be free.”

“That sounds great,” he says.

I head over to Angie’s Subs. Luckily Angie’s daughter is a friend and she helps me sidestep the mob. I order a foot-long Italian Special with extra Peruvian sauce (I don’t know what’s in Peruvian sauce, but wow!), and twenty minutes later Ben and I are splitting it in the arctic chill that is the Parks and Rec office. He clears off some space at the end of his desk, and we set up our little dining area.

“What would you like to drink?” he says as he holds up two bottles of water. “Water or water?”

I play along and scratch my chin as I consider my choice. “Water, please.”

“Excellent choice.” He hands me one of the bottles and sits down across from me. “So what do you think of my fancy desk?” He raps the metal top with his knuckle.

“I like it,” I say. “It’s not only cheap, it’s also messy.”

“It’s not messy,” he says defensively. “This may look disorganized, but all of these stacks mean something to me. That one’s for summer camp. That one has all the permission slips, and those two are for the King of the Beach and the Sand Castle Dance.

“By the way, in case you change your mind”—he takes a sheet of paper off one of the piles and dangles it in front of me—“here’s an application for the King of the Beach.”

I know he’s trying to be supportive, but the thought of competing in the King of the Beach is simply terrifying to me. I wish he’d stop pushing it. The Sand Castle Dance, however, is a completely different matter.

“Enough with the King of the Beach,” I say, ignoring it. “You have a better chance getting me interested in the Sand Castle Dance. It’s kind of like our summer prom and a pretty big deal for us.”

He nods as he swallows a bite of his sandwich. “I know. I hope I can get a good date. You think Kayla would go with me?”

“That’s not even fu

“Ow, ow, ow,” he says, rubbing it. “I was only joking.”

“Well, now you know better than to tell stupid jokes.”

He rubs it some more, and I realize I packed a harder punch than I had intended.

“Do you know why I am working so hard preparing for the Sand Castle Dance?”

“No,” I say. “And I’m not sure I care.”

“You should care. I’m working so hard because I made a deal with my boss. If I take care of all the prep—which includes finding the band and arranging the decorations—then I don’t have to work that night. I get to spend the whole evening at the dance with . . . wait for it . . . my girlfriend.”

I just let that word linger in the air for a moment. It’s got kind of a musical ring to it.

“How do you know I want to go?” I say. “The word on the street this year is that it’s being pla

He gives me a look. “I’m going to let that slide. But only because you got this incredible sandwich.”

“Speaking of dates,” I say, trying out yet another unskillful segue, “what are your plans for fireworks tonight?”

“Some oohing, some aahing, nothing special pla

“About that . . .”

I tell him all about Surf Sisters and the surprise a

“So, you wa

“You and me on a date?” he says playfully. “In front of all the girls at Surf Sisters?”

“Yes.”

“Gee, that doesn’t sound the least bit intimidating. Isn’t there somewhere we could watch where I’d feel less out of place? You know, like in a pit of wild panthers or something like that?”

I lean across the desk and wag a finger in his face. “I just marched in a parade for you. A parade through crowds of people! Don’t even get me started about feeling out of place.”

“Okay, okay,” he says. “I’ll do it.”

I hear a new band being a

“What time is it?”

“Two o’clock,” he says.

“We gotta go.”

“I’ve still got ten minutes for my lunch break,” he replies.

“The Founding Fathers are playing,” I reply. “I don’t want to miss my song.”

We hurry out of the office and get to the bandshell just as they start to play it.

“Isabel is watching like a princess from the mountains . . .”

Ben smiles when he realizes what’s going on. “Very nice,” he says. “Your dad has a good voice.”

We listen for a while, and even though I’ve heard it countless times, this is the first time I take notice of one particular line.

“With a whisper of her sadness in the passing of the summer . . .”

As a girl I’d always focused on the princess line, but now the idea of sadness and the passing of summer has new meaning. That’s in the future though. Right now, I’m just going to focus on enjoying it.

During my shift at Surf Sisters I have moments of nostalgia, sadness, laughter, and anger. We all do. It’s just impossible for us to believe that such an important part of our life is coming to an end. Mickey and Mo try to keep our spirits up, but it’s hard to separate the job part from the surfing and the friendship parts. In a way we’re lucky that it’s the Fourth because we’re so busy dealing with customers, we don’t have much time to dwell on the negative.

Ben arrives right before closing. He’s made a point of going home and switching out of his work clothes and is now rocking the whole islander look with a pair of khaki shorts, a graphic tee, and flip-flops.

“Badger Ben sure doesn’t look like he’s from Wisconsin anymore,” Sophie jokes with a friendly nudge.

I give her a look. “I thought we decided ‘Badger Ben’ didn’t work.”

She nods. “I just thought I’d give it one last try.”

He walks over to me, does a double check of everyone in the room, and whispers conspiratorially, “I’m the only dude here. Are you sure this is okay?”

Despite his best efforts to keep these concerns quiet, Mo has overheard him. She comes up from behind and whispers into his ear, “She’s sure.”

Startled, Ben turns around to see her smiling.

“We always like to have a couple guys around,” she continues, “just in case any menial jobs come along.”

I think this is Mo’s way of testing him. A lot of boys might get defensive or feel intimidated. But Ben just goes with the flow and plays along.

“Well, if that’s the case,” he says, “I think my vast experience doing menial chores for Parks and Rec makes me more than qualified. Do you have any playground vomit that needs cleaning up?”

“No,” she says, pleased by his response. “But the night’s still young, so you might want to check in with me later.”

Despite this confidence, I’m sure Ben feels a little more comfortable when a few more guys show up. This includes Mickey’s husband and—surprise, surprise—Nicole’s longtime crush, Cody Bell.