Sarah’s Unforgettable Summer

Abstract: Chapter 1 of 14: Sarah rents a beach house for the summer. She invites her son Joshua and his new girlfriend, Beth for the long holiday weekend. Josh invites Beth’s sister Ana, to join them. Josh and Beth’s infatuation for, and attention to each other makes Ana feel saddened and left out. Sarah, sensing Ana’s isolation from Josh and her sister, asks Ana if she would like to spend the weekend with her. Ana happily accepts.

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I pulled up to the beach rental house in my beat-up SUV. The house was a no-frills, two-story perched on stilts, with a wraparound deck that overlooks the dunes and the endless churn of the ocean. No fancy white picket fence or manicured lawns here - just weathered shingles, a hammock swaying in the breeze, and the faint smell of salt and seaweed hitting as I got out. It's a holiday weekend to start the summer season, and after 25 years of marriage ending in a divorce that left me hollowed out, I figured a place like this might help me breathe again. I invited Joshua, my son, and his new girlfriend Beth to join me for the long weekend. Josh, being the thoughtful type, mentioned bringing Beth's sister, Ana along. Something about her needing a pick-me-up after a bad breakup. Fine by me - I have the room, and the more voices in the house might drown out the silence in my head.

I saw Josh's truck pull into the driveway. It would be my first meeting with Beth and Ana. Beth looked like Josh's type - average height, very pretty, slender, long, wavey, blonde hair, wearing a flowery dress. Ana was not what I expected. She was much taller than Beth, close to six feet, strikingly beautiful, more so than Beth, with straight long dark hair, darker features, firm, bordering on muscular athletic build, wearing tight stretch shorts and workout tee that accentuated her physique. The two did not look like sisters. Half sisters maybe?

Josh gave me a big kiss and a long hug. I missed him so much, my little boy has grown to such a good-looking, kind, gentle, respectful, successful young man. Beth was next with hugs and all bubbly energy while Josh started to unload their luggage from the truck. Ana was more reserved. She shook my hand and said "Thank you Mrs. Golden for hosting us this weekend." I replied "Please Ana - you as well Beth - please call me Sarah. Let's all be friends here."

We spent the rest of the day and night unpacking and settling in. The house had an open layout - kitchen and living as one big room, opening onto the back deck, sliding glass doors letting in the afternoon light that bounces off the wooden floors. I cooked dinner for us all - a healthy salad followed by Jamaican jerk chicken with rice and peas - Josh's favorite, ending with cheesecake I brought from a local bakery. The wine flowed and we all started to get more comfortable with each other.

Josh and Beth were glued at the hip from the start, talking and laughing among themselves - at times appearing as if Ana and I were not even here. After dinner, I told the three of them to relax while I cleaned-up. After 10 minutes, Ana came into the kitchen to help clean while Josh and Beth watched TV. Ana looked down and I whispered to her - not to be overheard, "Ana, is everything OK?" With a sadden look, on the verge of tears, she said "I hate when they do this. Josh and Beth are so into themselves, they ignore everyone and everything around them. I shouldn't have not come with them this weekend."

Feeling Ana's pain, I put my arms around her for a hug. I then realized how tall, big, and muscular she is. "It's OK Ana. I'm glad you came." Her arms hung at her waist for a second, then raised to hug me as well. "I'm going to the beach now. Wanna join me for a walk? I'm told the beach at night is something else - no crowds, just sand, surf, and stars." "Thank you Sarah," she said, "I'd like that very much."

We walk along the shoreline, barefoot, sand and surf, wet and cool with the waves a rhythmic crash that fills the quiet. We chatted lightly about their drive here, the traffic jams that turned a four-hour trip into six. I opened up a little as we walked - telling Ana about my divorce, how my ex just up and decided he wanted out after all those years, like flipping a switch. "It's like waking up in a house that's suddenly too big," I say. Ana listened, really listened, her strides matching mine even though her legs were much longer. Then it was her turn to share. She told me she was the former captain of her college soccer team. Oh - I thought to myself - that's where the athleticism and muscle comes from. And finally, she told me she's a lesbian, who just broke up with her girlfriend. "She said I was too impulsive," Ana said with a wry chuckle. "Guess that's code for 'I'm too much to handle.'"

We laughed about it, the sound carrying over the water, and by the time we looped back to the house, she felt more at ease, and started to smile. We discovered that the lovebirds had disappeared into their bedroom and the house was quiet.

"Thank you Sarah, I really enjoyed spending time with you." I countered with "Thank you Ana for allowing me to get to know you, spend time with you, and in sharing our lives together. I have much to do tomorrow, but if you'd like to spend some of it, or all of it with me, I'd be pleased with your company. I start at about 6:30AM with coffee, then a walk on the beach, then a yoga class at 9, and it continues on from there. Ana came close and gave me a hug. She looked into my eyes and said "That means a lot to me Sarah. I'll see you at 6:30."

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I woke up to the faint gray light filtering through the blinds, the kind that promises a muggy morning by the sea. My alarm was set for 6:15, but I was already stirring, thoughts tangled with the quiet hug Ana had given me last night on the porch. Her words echoed a bit - how she'd see me at 6:30 - and I wondered if she'd actually show, or if the wine and the walk had just been a fleeting comfort. I slipped into my running shorts and a loose tank, padded to the kitchen in bare feet, the wooden floor cool against my soles.

There she was, already at the table, legs crossed under her, nursing a mug of coffee that smelled like she'd brewed it herself. Ana looked up, her dark hair pulled into a messy ponytail, wearing a tank top that hugged her shoulders and athletic shorts that showed off the defined lines of her quads. No makeup, no pretense - just that beautiful, striking face, eyes a little puffy, maybe from a rough night, but alert. "Morning, Sarah," she said, voice low and steady. "Figured I'd get a head start on that coffee."

I smiled, pouring myself a cup, the steam rising in lazy curls. "You're punctual. I like that. Ready for the beach walk?" She nodded, and we headed out without much chatter, closing the sliding glass door behind us. The air was thick with salt, the dunes still shadowed as we hit the sand. Our footsteps synced up quick - her long strides adjusting to mine - and we talked.

She told me about her childhood - her mother passing away when she was a small child, raised by a **** addicted, alcoholic father that sexually abused her until child protection services intervened. She lived in several foster homes until Beth's parents adopted her. While she struggled academically, she excelled athletically. Beth's parents had her tutored to get good grades. She was accepted and given free tuition to play in one the the top colleges to play soccer. Because of her sexual ****, she chose to avoid close relationships with men and gravitated towards women - especially older ones. She found them more wiser, more mature and experienced, people she could learn from, making her a better person. Her recent break-up was with a women's college soccer coach. She's 15 years older than Ana.

By the time we looped back, sweat beading on our skin from the humidity, I brought up the yoga class. "It's nothing fancy -just a group on the community beach, but it's good for shaking off the cobwebs. You in?" Ana grinned, wiping her forehead. "I'd like that. I could use the stretch." I told her to grab a change of clothes and a bathing suit for our trip. I packed a picnic for after, something low-key to extend the morning. She didn't hesitate, and soon we were in my SUV, driving toward the yoga spot.

The class was small, maybe eight people, on the sand with faded mats as the sun warmed us. The instructor, a wiry woman with sun-leathered skin, led us through sun salutations, her voice cutting through the crash of distant waves. Ana was a natural - her body folding and extending with that soccer-honed grace, muscles flexing under her tank as she held warrior pose longer than anyone. I caught myself glancing, not staring, but noticing the way her shorts rode up her thighs, the power in her core. She caught me staring at her body. We locked eyes and her smile turned into a grin. I quickly looked away. Oh my god I thought to myself, what is she thinking? Does she think I was checking-her out? Was my staring at her accidental - or intentional? These thoughts in my head were starting to consume me. I needed to control my emotions if I was going to make through the day.

"I really enjoyed that," Ana said as we rolled up our mats, her cheeks flushed. "It's been a while since I stretched. My body feels really good." Leaving, I suggesting we head to this cove that one of the locals told me about. It was hidden stretch of beach tucked behind jagged rocks - no tourists, no signs, just a dirt pull-off that led to a path overgrown with sea oats. We drove in comfortable silence, windows down, the scent of pine mixing with ocean brine. I unpacked the picnic from the cooler in the back: turkey sandwiches on crusty rolls, fresh strawberries, a thermos of iced tea spiked with lemon, and a bottle of wine. We spread a blanket on the sand, the cove curving like a secret, water lapping at smooth pebbles instead of the usual sandy beach.

We ate facing the sea, knees almost touching. I shared bits of my life, teaching high school English, still after the divorce, selling the home I shared with my ex, and getting a small, one bedroom in the city, near the school. I also said how I'd always wanted a place like this rental to reset. We finished lunch - and the bottle of wine. I was feeling loose and relaxed. The sun climbed higher, heating the air, and Ana stretched out, propped on her elbows. "Let's swim," she said, eyes on the water that sparkled like it was daring us.

I nodded, but she was already standing, peeling off her tank top without a second thought. Her sports bra came next, revealing small breasts that sat high and firm, nipples tightening in the breeze. Then the shorts and underwear, kicked aside with her sandals. Naked, she was all long lines and strength - broad shoulders tapering to a narrow waist. I noticed she was completely hairless. She must shave her entire body. Her pubic mound was especially bare and smooth, with a beautiful, sexy ass rounded from squats and sprints. She didn't cover up, just walked to the edge, the pebbles shifting under her feet, and waded, finally jumping in - completely submerged. Coming-up for air, she yelled to me, "Come on, Sarah. It's perfect."

I froze on the blanket, staring, shocked, unable to figure out what to do next. Here I was, mid-forties, body marked by time and a marriage that fizzled, and this woman - half my age - was stripping like it was nothing. Struggling to come to my senses, my pulse kicked up, then something hotter - curiosity uncoiling in my gut. "Ana, what if someone - "

"You told me that no one comes here," she shouted back, diving under a wave, surfacing with water streaming down her skin. "Live a little Sarah. You deserve it after all you've been though."

I stood, heart pounding heavily, took off my tank and shorts, my one-piece bathing suit underneath. I walked to the water, the cool rush over my ankles making me gasp, then deeper, until it lapped at my waist.

Ana swam closer, her strokes smooth, and before I could overthink, her arms slid around me from behind. Her skin was slick, warm against my back, breasts pressing into my shoulders as she pulled me close. "See? Not so bad," she murmured, chin on my shoulder, breath hot on my neck. Submerged now, we floated like that, bodies buoyant, the water cradling us. Her hands rested light on my hips, thumbs tracing idle circles, and I leaned into it, tension melting. The divorce had left me touch-starved, every casual brush from my ex turning cold years ago, but this - her solidity, the way she held without demanding - stirred something deep.

I turned in her arms, facing her, water swirling around our chests. Our eyes locked, and she smiled, slow and knowing. "There is one problem," Ana said, her voice was husky, low. "I'm not wearing a bathing suit and you are." That's when her fingers interlocked on my straps and pulled my one piece down over my shoulders. "Oh please Ana," I begged, "please don't do that." By that time, Ana had the bathing suit below my waist, floated me on my back and freeing the suit from my legs. "Being naked Sarah is the ultimate in freedom" Ana said. "This weekend, I'm going to take you out of your comfort zone. This is just the beginning."

We held each other, letting go to swim briefly before we were embracing again. The water felt alive around us. Finally, I said "We should head back." We swam to shore, bodies glistening, the cove's privacy holding our secret. On the pebbled beach, she didn't rush to dress, toweling off slow, her eyes on me as I did the same. We packed up, and drove to the supermarket in town, windows down. While driving, with my hand resting on the console, she put her hand on top of mine, and interlocked my fingers with hers. She kept it there for a short while until she let go. I started to feel an incredible warmth building inside of me. It was erotic, sensual, confusing, and nerve-racking all at the same time. I was hesitant, uncomfortable, yet excited as to where my relationship with Ana was going to lead. This is not a stranger I just met, it was the sister of my son's girlfriend.

The store was a fluorescent-lit maze of aisles, locals milling with carts full of coolers and sunscreen. We grabbed steaks for dinner, fresh corn, other sundries, a couple bottles of red and white wine - normal stuff.

Back at the house, Josh and Beth were still holed up, oblivious, their laughter filtering from upstairs. Ana and I unloaded in the kitchen, shoulders bumping, the air thick with unspoken heat. I fired up the grill on the deck, the sun dipping low, painting the dunes orange. We ate with the group - Josh cracking jokes, Beth all smiles - but Ana, occasionally looking at me across the table - smiling. I could feel her energy. I was wondering what was going to happen after we all retired for the evening.