CHAPTER 13 Summertime Girls

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My friendship with Mara flourished after Ty and I returned home from our beach adventure. She joined us on many of our outings, although we had to borrow their parent's car when she did. She was a lot of fun and always up for anything, except the Waffle House. Kind of snobby about where she could be seen, she insisted we pick her up after our breakfast ritual.

"I don't know why you love that place so much," she scoffed as she slid into the back seat of the exquisite red Scaglietti one overcast morning.

"Their eggs are fluffy and I love raisin toast with apple butter," I retorted.

Mara sighed audibly. "I have so much work to do with you."

Ty glared at her disapprovingly, but I just laughed. "Give it your best shot."

She shook her head.

"It's supposed to rain all day. We should do something uplifting to combat the dreariness, unless you already have something planned," I suggested.

"I did, but it involved being outdoors. We can always do it another time. Did you have something in mind?"

"Let's do a spa day," Mara proposed.

"We just did that when we were at Sea Island," I reminded her.

"Can you do too many spa days?" she asked rhetorically.

"I can," Ty concluded.

"What about bowling?" I suggested.

"We haven't been bowling in a long time, Ty. Let's do that," Mara said authoritatively.

"Okay. Do you want to go to the place in Savannah that we used to go to or would you rather find another one?"

"We can go there. I think they had pool tables, too, if I remember correctly. Essie, are you a good bowler?"

"I used to be decent, but it's been a while. That was always our rainy day boredom solution."

We arrived at Savannah Lanes just as it was starting to sprinkle. We rented our shoes and were assigned to Lane 3. As we approached, I eyed the balls in the ball retriever skeptically.

"What's wrong?" Ty asked.

"Um, I've never bowled with balls this big," I answered, confused.

"What do you mean? What other kind of balls are there?"

"Small ones with no holes in them."

"Never seen 'em."

"Then you've never been candlepin bowling in New England."

"That's a true statement."

I picked up a lime green ball with white swirls and put my fingers in the holes. "This is heavy," I noted. "I'm not sure how I'll do with this."

Ty had taken out his phone and was googling the difference between ten pin and candlepin bowling. He laughed out loud and enlarged the picture of a small, black candlepin ball in a man's hand for Mara.

"That looks ridiculous, Essie," she teased.

"I'm going to look ridiculous when I either drop the ball behind me or go flying down the lane when my fingers get stuck in the holes."

"If that happens, please don't get mad at me for laughing," Ty begged.

"You won't be laughing any harder than I will be," I assured him. "Why don't you two go first so I can see how it's done."

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