I was four - maybe five, and my mom and Auntie Mac were in the front seat. I can't remember what car we were in - maybe a red two door? Or was it the blue K Car? We had been waiting in bridge traffic and the air was stagnant. My butt was itchy on the polyester seats and I had to pee. An Army bus pulled up on our right and Mom and Auntie whipped off their bras and flashed them.
I lifted my shirt to inspect my mosquito bite boobies.
"Can I moon them?" I loved to moon people back then. Maybe it explains my tattoo.
"Go for it Shanny!" Auntie Mac yelled. Auntie Mac's voice sounded like she's smoked a million cigarettes, and she was so tan she was black. I'd asked my mom about the black thing in private once. She explained that auntie was just Italian and her skin gets dark in the summer.
I unbuckled my seat belt and pulled down my elastic waist band shorts, pressing my bum up to the half rolled down window. There were cheers and honking horns. I felt proud. There was a sweat mark of my bum, proof of my rebellion. I don't know if it's rebellion if your mom is telling you it's okay.
Sunny Cape Cod was on the seat next to me. The legend is we found the stuffed little guy on a beach when he washed up on the shore when I was a baby. I'm pretty sure he was bought at the Christmas tree shop. He was a little bit shorter than me, and clearly a German Shepard. His tongue was brown and hard from when I had tried to feed him a fudgscicle the previous year. I wrapped my arms around him, both of us in matching kids "Gull Cottages" t-shirts in baby blue.
"Mumma, I have to pee."
"Honey we won't be able to stop for a while, the traffic is all backed up."
"But I have to go!"
"Go in Mickey Mouse."
The red Mickey Mouse lunch box was next to Sunny. I let go of him and opened it up. Tossing the warm grapes and removing the thermos, I braced the two seats in front for leverage and let her go.
"How can I wipe?"
"Just shake it clean." I felt much better. Poor Mickey. He deserved a better fate.
We were close the the bridge by now. and the traffic was moving better. Not by much, but at least there was a breeze.
As we got onto the bridge and approached the middle Mom and Auntie tossed their cigarettes and grabbed their discarded bras from the floor. They counted to three and tossed them out the window over the side of the bridge. I tried to follow them as the fluttered down eventually hitting the water.
"Welcome to Sunny Cape Cod!" they yelled and laughed. I grabbed Sunny in the back and gave him a smooch. We were here. Well, still an hour to go- but the two week tradition had started. Nana was on her way up not too far behind us, and Auntie Jane would be there waiting with her daughter Vanessa. Auntie Silly would come up later in the week. It took be a long time to realize what the traditional word for Aunt was. These were my mom's best friends. No blood. Just loyalty.
I'm trying to avoid getting all Ya-Ya siterhood on you all. Cause it wasn't like that. I'm just as messed up from my mom and all of her escapades as I am better off by it. I certainly have a strange relationship with alcohol. I've written about these annual two weeks so many times and I can't figure it out.
It's the stories I love most of all.
The time Nana and Auntie Mac swear to God (and they still do to this day)that they met two handsome men with guitars on the beach one night who were really aliens. "They made the rocks glow! They were moon rocks!" I would collect them on the beach and try to make them glow in my room at night.
We went to P-Town and there was all this talk about "The Lesbians" and I asked my mom what they were. I was so worried for a few days after that talk. My mom eventually asked what was wrong and I told her I was scared that I was a lesbian, I loved her and the aunties. She laughed and told me it's okay if I was a lesbian, but that's not what it means.
Bringing Susie along when I was older, telling secrets by the fireflies and the fence at night.
Hot stagnant days like the one's we've had up here make me remember all of this.
All these memories are squished together. I can't tell one year from the other. I wish I had a time line.
I wish I could go back.
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