Blissful Summer

Blissful Summer—George Davis

  It was the same summer I met Charlotte Haines. Charlotte was here vacationing for the summer with her maternal grandparents, Ivory and Lucille McGregor. 

  As far as I was concerned, Charlotte Haines was the prettiest girl I had ever seen. Understand, I did not date during high school. I spent all my time studying to become a good, no great, physician. Not one female classmate appealed to my senses. I was too busy being an egghead. 

  I stood on my front porch that overlooked the McGregor’s side yard. Every day that summer I watched Charlotte sunbathing on the edge of the McGregor’s in-ground Olympic-sized pool. She was stunning, and if it took me all summer, I was going to talk to that girl, ask her out on a date, and let providence take its course. 

  Well, summer was coming to a close, and the McGregors closed their pool, covering it with a green tarp. This means, Charlotte will be leaving on Monday, going back to Massachusetts. I learned she was from Lynn. The distance between my home and Lynn Massachusetts is ninety-two miles, but it might as well be a thousand miles. Today, Saturday, was the last time to put me into the summoning mode. I had to ask Charlotte today, or lose, not only my nerve but an opportunity to date the most beautiful girl in the world. 

  “Er…Miss Haines,” I said, over the wire fence that separated me from my dreams. 

  “Oh, hello there. Please, call me Charlotte. What is your name?” 

  “Granville Hooper, but, please call me Gran.”

  “Okay, Gran. I’m here for the summer, and maybe we can get together; go swimming, have a picnic or something.”

  “That’d be nice, Charlotte.”

  “Okay then. Have a nice day, Gran.”

 “Oh, by the way, Charlotte, where is home?” 

  “Lynn, Massachusetts.” 

  “Oh, I’ve been to Salem next door with my dad. He’s was an oil burner repairman.” 

  “How nice, Gran. My dad is a lawyer in the city of Lynn. My mom is a teacher…was a teacher. She died last summer while I was here at my grandparent’s home. I miss her terribly, Gran.” 

  “I’m sure you do. Look, Charlotte I was wondering if…if…” 

  “If what, Gran?” 

  “If you might, on your last weekend of the summer, go with me to supper tonight.” 

  “That’s funny. My mother always called the dinner hour supper.” 

  “I’m sorry.” 

  “Oh don’t be sorry, Gran. I wasn’t mocking you or making fun of you. When you said that, you reminded me of my mother. It brought back many good memories.”

  “I would love to go out with you to supper. However, I want to spend as much time with my grammy and gramps as I can. I only see them in the summer, and who knows if they’ll be here next summer?”

  “I understand. Well, have a nice visit, and maybe I’ll see you again next year.” My heart was broken. The love of my life was going home, and I wouldn’t see her again for a whole year. That is, if her grandparents were still living.

  Monday morning I watched as Mr. McGregor loaded his Cadillac Escalade with Charlotte’s belongings. Then, the dream of my life came out, looked over at me and waved. “Bye, Gran. See you next summer.” She through a kiss. My knees buckled, my palms sweat, and I stuttered, “bye Charlotte. Hurry back.”

  I spent the next year at the university. It was a long, dragged-out year. I missed Charlotte. I dreamed of her almost every night since she left. Thank God, the McGregors were still alive. Mr. McGregor just took off the tarp from his pool. Summer is here, and I can’t wait for Charlotte’s arrival. 

  Saturday morning Mr. McGregor drove off in his SUV, to pick up, Charlotte. I crossed my fingers and said a silent prayer. 

Two that afternoon, Mr. McGregor arrived back home, Charlotte in tow. But, with Charlotte, a tall- dark-haired man. He stood erect, flashing brown eyes, chiseled chin, hook nose, and a broad grin. 

  “Hello, Gran,” Charlotte hollered. “How’ve you been?” 

  “Fine, and you, Charlotte?” 

  “Great. I want you to meet my finance, Gran. Homer Pike, meet Granville Hooper 

  “Nice to meet you, Granville,” Pike said. “We hope you will come over tonight. Mr. and Mrs. McGregor are having a little get-together for Charlotte.” 

  “I wouldn’t miss it.” 

  “See you tonight, Gran,” Charlotte said, around seven.” I couldn’t wait. Even if I was to be second string. It was heaven just to be in her presence. 

  I left my house at seven-ten. It is, fashionable to be late the elites say. However, the real reason I left my home as I did, was to spare myself at least a few moments before I saw Charlotte and her…beau. 

  “Good evening, Gran,” Charlotte said. “Now nice you could make it.” I knew coming from anyone but my dream girl, that would have been a facetious remark. 

  “Good evening, Charlotte, Homer.” 

  “Come in, sit down we are about to eat. What will you have, a martini, Jacobs makes the most divine martini? Or, perhaps you’d rather have Scotch.” 

  “I’ll have water. I don’t drink alcohol.” Homer scowled, “I can get you a beer if you’d like, ‘Gran. That’s my drink of choice.” 

  “No thank you, Homer. I’ll stick with good ole H2O.” 

  It bothered me to see Pike hugging my girl. He even kissed her, albeit on the cheek. I spent most of the evening biting my tongue. The tongue, you know, “is set on fire the course of nature; and it is set on fire by hell.” 

  At ten-thirty, I excused myself; I got ready to leave. Charlotte said, “I’ll see you out, Gran.” 

 Was it my imagination or did she just say, “I cannot forget you, Gran. You are my first love.” 

  I arrived home at eleven and went straight upstairs to bed. I couldn’t sleep. It was two a.m., and I was still wide awake. What’s the use? I got up, went downstairs to make a ham sandwich. As I stood at the bottom of the stairs, I saw the lights were still on over at the McGregor’s. I wonder who’s up this late, or early? 

  I made the sandwich and retired to the living room to watch a late movie. The lights were still on across the way. I wonder if Charlotte and Pike were in the living room kissing up a storm? 

  As I was staring at the McGregor’s house, I saw a shadow pass before their bay window. It was the shadow of a tall man. I kept my eye focused on that window waiting to see that shadow again. However, instead of a shadow, I saw Pike putting on his hat and going out the front door. 

  Had the two lovebirds had a quarrel? I certainly hope so. Pike got into a silver Olds Toronado. I think they stopped making those in the late sixties. It was either a classic or Pike was short of the funds to buy a new vehicle. It didn’t matter to me which one it was. 

  I wanted to rush over, throw my arms around Charlotte, and tell her how much I loved her. However, after Pike left the lights went out. 

  The next morning I found myself stretched out in my brown leather recliner. The bright sun’s rays shining in through the Venetian blinds woke me with a start. 

  Across the way, over at the McGregor’s, I could see Charlotte standing at the edge of the pool looking over toward my house. I waved, but she didn’t see me. I opened my sliding-glass door to my deck and shouted to her, “morning, Charlotte.” 

  “Good morning, Gran. How was your night?” 

  “Fine, how about you?” 

  “Great after Homer left. We had a real knock-down-drag-out fight. I’m through with him. I sent him back to his miserable home in Lynn.” I walked over to the fence and said, “I’m sorry, Charlotte.” 

  “You needn’t be. I should never have accepted his proposal. My friends all told me, he was a first-class bum. It took me six months to figure it out, Gran.” 

  I opened the gate in the fence and walked over to where my dream girl stood. “It’s so nice to see you, Gran. I hope you had a good time last night.” 

  “I did, and all because of you, Charlotte.” 

  “My grandfather told me just last week. Charlotte, you have a nice young man next door. Why don’t you ask him out? You young ones, today, feel it is okay for the woman to ask the man. In my day, no woman would think of asking a man out on a date.” 

  “Does that mean, you’re asking me out, Charlotte?” 

  “Kind of, Gran. Yes, I am asking you out on a date. Something I should have done two years ago when we first met.” I was floating on air. My heartbeat rapidly as I imagined our first official date. 

 That was a time to remember. That was two years ago. Charlotte Haines and I were married that summer and spent our honeymoon at a rented camp on Sagamore Lake in Cumberland Falls. It was an idyllic three days of sun and fun, and marital bliss. 

  Today, we have one son, Granville Jr., our pride and joy. I am as much in love with Charlotte as I was the first day I met her. She is still, and always will be to me, the most beautiful woman on God’s green acre.