Read Online The Hot Flash Club Chills Out by Nancy Thayer - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Nancy Thayer
Tags: Humor, Humorous, Romance, Literature & Fiction, Contemporary, Sagas, Genre Fiction, Romantic Comedy, Contemporary Fiction, Contemporary Women, Friendship, Family Saga, Women's Fiction, General Humor, Humor & Satire
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enthusiastically. “I’ve never been on a ferry before.”
“Neither have I,” Polly said. “And isn’t it a gorgeous day for a trip!”
They all looked out the window. Along the highway, the tender tips of newly budding trees waved beneath the blue sky like flags of a brand new country.
8
H yannis was a crowded port. Getting to the ferry and then on the ferry seemed, for a while, a lot like their normal lives—full of schedules, rules, and organization. They found a parking place in one of the lots near the Steamship Authority’s terminal, and clustered around to observe Faye putting the receipt in the zipper pocket of her purse, so
one
of them would remember where it was when the time came to reclaim the Mercedes. They lugged and pulled their weekend luggage along the busy street and through the lines of cars to the office, where they bought their tickets.
By the time they joined the line of fellow voyagers standing by the boat slip, the handsome white ferry was making its stately approach. It docked, releasing passengers, cars, and trucks. They handed their tickets to the attendant, tramped up the ramp onto the first deck, and up a set of metal stairs to the main deck with its scores of blue vinyl benches and white tables, all securely fastened down.
“Let’s grab a booth,” Faye suggested. “We can go out if we want sunshine, but it might be too cool to spend the entire trip outside.”
Taking Faye’s advice, they claimed a booth, dropped their bags, and climbed another flight of stairs to the top deck with its double smokestacks and rows of seats, where people were already settling, opening picnic baskets, or leaning back to soak in the sun. A male voice came over a public address system, welcoming them to the boat, advising them there was no smoking, and providing information about where to find life jackets, which freaked them all out for a moment, until they noticed that no one else was paying any attention. The boat sounded its horn three times, and with a deep satisfied rumble, pulled away from shore.
The four women stood together at the stern, watching the buildings, streets, trees, and rooftops of the mainland retreat.
“That’s the Kennedy compound,” Faye told them, pointing toward the shore, her other hand pulling her hair from her face as the wind blew it.
The houses grew smaller and farther away. Gulls swooped through the clear air. Duck couples idled placidly in the gentle swells. The ferry chugged steadily toward the horizon, until it was surrounded by Nantucket Sound, the wind furrowing the blue waters into fields of white-tipped waves. Sunlight struck sparks on the water, as if someone beneath the surface were tossing handfuls of diamonds up into the air.
One by one, the four women separated, silently going off alone to lean on the white rails, gazing out at the dancing azure waters. One by one, they felt the duties of the real world slip away, evaporating into the fresh air. The horizon was empty—almost. Far in the distance, sails cut white triangles in the blue, but for a while they saw no land, no houses, no human edifices, only the eternal expanse of sky and water, impervious to their power and their desires. They didn’t notice how their breathing deepened, how their shoulders relaxed, how their blood slowed. The blue waters were hypnotic, allowing a white ship of calm to sail through their minds.
A dog barked. A baby cried. A pack of teenage girls giggled past. The spell was broken. Faye, realizing she was slightly chilled from the breeze, hurried back down to the main deck and bought herself a cup of coffee.
Polly, Shirley, and Marilyn joined her at the booth, which, with their purses, duffels, sweaters, and scarves had become a temporary nest. The boat was in deeper waters now, and waves smashed against the ship.
Marilyn put her hand to her belly. “I think I’m getting a little motion sick.”
“Eat something,” Faye advised.
“What a good idea!” Polly
“Neither have I,” Polly said. “And isn’t it a gorgeous day for a trip!”
They all looked out the window. Along the highway, the tender tips of newly budding trees waved beneath the blue sky like flags of a brand new country.
8
H yannis was a crowded port. Getting to the ferry and then on the ferry seemed, for a while, a lot like their normal lives—full of schedules, rules, and organization. They found a parking place in one of the lots near the Steamship Authority’s terminal, and clustered around to observe Faye putting the receipt in the zipper pocket of her purse, so
one
of them would remember where it was when the time came to reclaim the Mercedes. They lugged and pulled their weekend luggage along the busy street and through the lines of cars to the office, where they bought their tickets.
By the time they joined the line of fellow voyagers standing by the boat slip, the handsome white ferry was making its stately approach. It docked, releasing passengers, cars, and trucks. They handed their tickets to the attendant, tramped up the ramp onto the first deck, and up a set of metal stairs to the main deck with its scores of blue vinyl benches and white tables, all securely fastened down.
“Let’s grab a booth,” Faye suggested. “We can go out if we want sunshine, but it might be too cool to spend the entire trip outside.”
Taking Faye’s advice, they claimed a booth, dropped their bags, and climbed another flight of stairs to the top deck with its double smokestacks and rows of seats, where people were already settling, opening picnic baskets, or leaning back to soak in the sun. A male voice came over a public address system, welcoming them to the boat, advising them there was no smoking, and providing information about where to find life jackets, which freaked them all out for a moment, until they noticed that no one else was paying any attention. The boat sounded its horn three times, and with a deep satisfied rumble, pulled away from shore.
The four women stood together at the stern, watching the buildings, streets, trees, and rooftops of the mainland retreat.
“That’s the Kennedy compound,” Faye told them, pointing toward the shore, her other hand pulling her hair from her face as the wind blew it.
The houses grew smaller and farther away. Gulls swooped through the clear air. Duck couples idled placidly in the gentle swells. The ferry chugged steadily toward the horizon, until it was surrounded by Nantucket Sound, the wind furrowing the blue waters into fields of white-tipped waves. Sunlight struck sparks on the water, as if someone beneath the surface were tossing handfuls of diamonds up into the air.
One by one, the four women separated, silently going off alone to lean on the white rails, gazing out at the dancing azure waters. One by one, they felt the duties of the real world slip away, evaporating into the fresh air. The horizon was empty—almost. Far in the distance, sails cut white triangles in the blue, but for a while they saw no land, no houses, no human edifices, only the eternal expanse of sky and water, impervious to their power and their desires. They didn’t notice how their breathing deepened, how their shoulders relaxed, how their blood slowed. The blue waters were hypnotic, allowing a white ship of calm to sail through their minds.
A dog barked. A baby cried. A pack of teenage girls giggled past. The spell was broken. Faye, realizing she was slightly chilled from the breeze, hurried back down to the main deck and bought herself a cup of coffee.
Polly, Shirley, and Marilyn joined her at the booth, which, with their purses, duffels, sweaters, and scarves had become a temporary nest. The boat was in deeper waters now, and waves smashed against the ship.
Marilyn put her hand to her belly. “I think I’m getting a little motion sick.”
“Eat something,” Faye advised.
“What a good idea!” Polly
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