The rain has started, and its gotten colder. It’ll be a good night for crawling under the blankets and sleeping like a log. Dodging the pouring rain...as best as I can, I finally make it to the truck. I change out of my clothes into my sleepwear – a pair of baggy cotton shorts, and a T-shirt. I set the laptop on the steering wheel, turn it on, and turn on the overhead light so I can see the keyboard. I play a couple games of Spades, but I’ve beaten the computer so many times, it’s not fun. It was actually a very good arrangement for the five of us, and I mentally blessed Dr. Baxter.There was a frightening array of cutlery around our mats. Hamish noticed me counting the knives and forks, and leant across the table to advise me."Dad says to always start at the outside and work inwards, and trust to good fortune that you'll end up with the right number left at the end!"Someone at our end of the long table said a very short Grace in what sounded like Latin, and people started sitting. When I was alone at home or in my room, I would lift the long skirt I was wearing up above my knees to allow my legs to cool somewhat. But if anybody were around I wouldn't indulge myself so. I was embarrassed.Sheila came to convince me to give in and go swimming. She told me I was so lucky ? that I was naturally slim and had a body that the other boys would kill for. I should be proud of the way I look and shouldn't be embarrassed. Then she asked me where my bathing suits were. I told her that. My sexy date finally appeared from the powder room, and literally knocked my socks off. If she wanted to look like the most expensive hooker I could never possibly afford, she nailed it. Tight black dress, high heels, fishnet stockings and that candy-apple red lipstick that shouts "fuck me". As I continued to dice, chop and whisk, we sipped and flirted. Well, I sipped, as I was the chef, and busy assembling one of our favourite date-night treats - a meal in itself - 'Cocquille St. Jacques'. But.