Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 It is the first afternoon Amy is allowed out on her own.
   The elevator doors opened, revealing a small hallway.  Amy stepped out,
and quickly headed left into the main hallway of the hotel's recreation
facility.  Since all the signs are in French, she has a minor problem. 
Stopping, she looks then turns to her left.  She reaches the end of the
hallway, and only discovers the hotel's luxury spa, and the men's and
women's locker rooms.
   Backtracking, she passes the elevators, and reaches the end of the right
hallway discovering only an indoor tennis court, 2 racket-ball courts, a
basketball court, and the staff entrance to the kitchen for a luncheonette.
   Back down the hall, she heads back to the elevators, turns into them,
passes them, and discovers that a large door, marked "LE PERSONNEL MET EN
COMMUN ET L'ENTRÉE DE PLAGUE"
   Not speaking French, and therefore clueless, she decides to open the
door, and luckily, she finds that it is a service counter for the pool and
beach areas.  The attendant looking behind himself, sees her head peeking
through the doorway.
   "L'entance à la piscine est par les vestiaires."
   "I'm sorry.  I don't understand."
   "The, um entrance is through the room of lockers?"
   "Ah.  The locker room!"
   "Oui!"
   She retraced her steps, and headed to the locker room she had found
before.  Entering the door with the silhouette of a woman in a dress, she
headed for the opposite side of the room.  Passing several women changing
into bathing suits, she found a door along the back wall.  This door, in
turn, leading to a second door, opened out onto that which she had been
daydreaming of all morning.
   The pool area was huge.  Two acres at least.  And the pool itself was
about the same size as the public swimming pool she occasionally visited
with friends back in Cleveland.
   Arranged around the pool were dozens, maybe even as many as two-hundred
chaise lounges.  Those nearest to her were already occupied.  Looking to
the far side of the pool, she noticed an area where more than a dozen,
still remained empty.  Walking around the pool, she successfully dodged
running kids, stationary chairs, and waiters bearing trays of cool
refreshing drinks
   She selects a lounge and drops her beach bag beside it.  Pulling out a
large beach towel, she carefully drapes it across the plastic surface.  She
then sits down, and crossing her arms, she grabs the hem of her cover-up
and raises her arms over her head, removing it from her body.
   We can now see that she is wearing her new Spongebob bikini.  She had
thought of wearing her new black one, but since she had never worn a bikini
in public before, she decided to take it slow.
   She places the cover-up into the bag, at the same time as she removes a
plastic water bottle, and her IPOD.  After putting the buds into her ears,
she turns it on, and sets it to the latest Hannah Montana album.  Laying it
down on the lounge, she slides the player under her leg to keep anyone from
stealing it from her.  At the same time, the water bottle is placed at her
side, ready for use of she becomes thirsty.  With these preparations, she
is now ready for an afternoon of sunbathing.  keeping in mind that her
father had covered her in sunscreen before she left the suite.
   Settling back to enjoy the sun, and the latest Hannah Montana album, she
was half-way through "I Got Nerve" when she was disturbed by a commotion,
right on top of her.  Loud and annoying, she preferred to keep her eyes
closed, pretending that they didn't exist.
   "There aren't any more together.  This is the best we can do." A man's
voice.
   "But we won't be together." a woman protested.
   "There's two here, and one on the other side.  We'll be close enough."
The man again.
   "We could ask her if she'd be willing to move?" A question from the
woman again.  Obviously a husband and wife, or maybe boyfriend and
girlfriend.  Amy was too young to understand the concept of lovers.
   "The child is obviously asleep." The man again.
   "Do we have to be here?  There are still a couple of lounges over in
that corner, over there!" A new voice.  Young?  Probably male?
   "I want to be over here, close to the bar.  Any further away, and we'd
never get any service!" The woman again.
   "Then in that case, I think we're stuck.  You will be ok?  Won't you
boy?" The man again, addressing the third voice, his son perhaps?
   "I'm only one chair over.  What problems could I get into with you two
still ten feet away?" The boy, the couple's son perhaps.  And if so, how
old?  They spoke English.  Could they be American?  They could even be
English.  At least they spoke it.  If she could stay still long enough she
might even be able to find out, without letting them know.  And if the boy
was young enough, maybe she would have a companion?  At least it was
possible.
   "He's still only thirteen years old.  I think he should be right beside
us." The woman again.
   "He will be dear.  Just one lounge over.  Would you pester on like this
about him, if the girl was our daughter?"
   "No.  Because she'd be over here, beside me, while you were next to
Davie!"
   Davie!  David!  That would be his name.  And he was thirteen years old.
Older than her.  But only a year and a half or so.  Could they be friends?
Possible since he was obviously an only child like herself.
   Whoever they were, it took them until the end of "The Other Side of Me"
before they were settled, all the while, the woman was complaining about
her husband's refusal to ask Amy to move one lounge over, so they could be
together.  But finally, they settled down.
   All through "This is the Life" and "Pop Princess" Amy felt like she was
being watched.  She didn't know if it was actually real, or if she was just
being over sensitive to the fact that she was wearing a bikini, in public,
for the first time ever.  But she didn't feel that way before the loud
family arrived?  Could it be that Davie was looking at her?
   Finally, by the end of "Shining Star" Amy had summoned up enough
courage. She turned her head, to face the boy's lounge, at the same time as
she opened her eyes.
   David, caught off guard, huridly turned his head to stare face up.  Amy
just lay there, staring at him.  He risked a couple of quick looks out of
the corner of his eye, but unfortunately, his peripheral vision was not
good enough to let him see in her direction.  In the end, he turned his
head back towards her.
   "Hello, Davie!"
   "Um.  Um.  Hello?  How do you know my name?"
   "Your mother, I believe, said the name "Davie" so I naturally assumed
that was you."
   "Ah, right.  I'm afraid I don't quite know your name?"
   The question was actually phrased as a statement of fact, but Amy knew
what he wanted.
   "My name is Amy, Amy Thompson.  From Cleveland, and Toledo."
   "You're American?"
   "Yes.  And you are?"
   "I'm from Columbus.  But how can you be from Cleveland and Toledo, at
the same time.  Did you just move?"
   "Nah.  My parents are divorced, so I pop back between the two cities all
the time."
   "That sucks.  If it was anywhere but Cleveland and Toledo."
   "I know.  I try to make the best of it."
   "It cannot be easy."
   "At least I get to go on vacation a couple of times a year.  Except,
when I'm with dad, he's usually working."
   "Is he working now?"
   "Yeah.  He's in our room, working on some sort of architectural
something-or-other, for some big presentation."
   "Sound boring."
   "Yeah.  And to make things even worse, he actually wanted to hire a
babysitter to watch me, while he worked."
   "So where is she.  Did you skiv her?"
   "Nah.  The hotel couldn't find us one, so I'm on my own."
   With that pronouncement, David rose up.  Twisting his body around, so
that he was now facing her, sitting on the lounge chair.  "So you are out
here, all alone?"
   "Yes.  And no." He looked puzzled.  In response, she reached into her
bag and pulled out her phone.  "He has to know where I am going, If
anything changes, and be able to call me when he remembers I'm here."
   "Has he ever called you yet?"
   "No."
   "How long have you had the phone?"
   "About a day."
   "Oh.  Neat idea
   "Maybe I could get my parents to agree to something similar.  My mum
refuses to accept the fact that I CAN take care of myself.  I am 13 after
all."
   "Really.  My daddy trusts me, even though I'm only 11.  But I'll be 12
in a couple of months."
   "When?"
   "November.  And I think he only agreed because he was stuck."
   "Stuck?"
   "Yeah.  After mom dumped me on him, he asked the hotel to arrange for a
sitter, but they screwed up.  So he had to come up with some way to let him
feel "comfortable" with letting me out in the hotel.  Otherwise I'd just
get in his way."
   "See, my mum refuses to let go.  She actually wanted dad to wake you up,
and ask you to move over 1 lounge."
   "I know.  I just pretended to be asleep.  Please don't tell on me?"
   "I won't.  I think it's funny.  She can really be unreasonable at time."
He looks up at his mother, to see if she heard.  With her eyes closed,
oblivious to the world, David hoped she was napping.
   "Personally, I'd talk it over with your father.  He seems more
reasonable.  Besides, it didn't cost much, and it is security.  And peace
of mind.  I think?  At least that's what daddy says."
   "I might just try that."
   Silence hangs in the air.  Both kids are trying to decide if they should
hook up and hang out.  In the end, Davie decided to continue the
conversation.  Amy represented a hope for freedom.  Freedom for himself,
from the constantly watching eye of his mother.
   "So you're from Cleveland.  I'm sorry.'
   "It's not that bad.  It's not like I live downtown or anything.  The
suburbs aren't that bad." Amy decided she had given enough information.  It
was now her turn to pester.  "So why are you here.
   "Two weeks rest, after visiting with family back home."
   "Back home in Columbus?"
   "No.  London."
   "You're from England?"
   "Yes."
   "So why are you living in Columbus?"
   "Ohio State University."
   "Your parents like football that much?"
   "No.  Dads a surgeon.  He and some of his buds back home, London,
developed some new procedures.  So dad is over here teaching your people
how to do them, while someone from OSU is in London teaching us some of
theirs."
   "Neat.  So how long have you lived here?"
   "Three years.  It was only supposed to be 2, but dad started working on
some other ideas he had, that he couldn't back home, and well, he cant
leave just yet."
   "Wow.  That sounds neat.  So you came back to London to visit, and now
you are on vacation?"
   "Yeah.  My parents need a week or so after every trip, because the
family is such a pain in the arse."
   "I can imagine.  Even dealing with my mother is a big enough pain in the
arse.  Ass?"
   "Yeah.  I know how you feel.
   This conversation continued to slowly evolve over the next several
hours. Each child telling the other their life's history.
   It all came to an end around 4:30.
   "I have to go now." Amy starts packing up her gear.
   "Really.  So soon.  My mum will be disappointed that she didn't get to
meet you."
   "Is she still asleep?"
   "Yeah out cold.  So what do you have planned for tomorrow?"
   "Probably coming back here.  I'd like to go down to the beach, but daddy
won't let me.  Not without supervision." Everything is in her bag, so she
puts her cover-up back on and wraps the towel around her shoulders.
   "We're doing the beach tomorrow.  Would you like to join us?"
   "I don't know.  My dad might not approve."
   "Just tell him it'll be Ok.  Besides, if anything goes wrong, you'll
have a famous heart surgeon standing by."
   "That might do it.  I'll ask."
   "Leave a message for room 652, David Martin.  And if you can, we can
meet over by the tables over there, by the stairs.  Ok?"
   "Sure.  Sounds fine.  Hopefully, I'll see you then."
   Amy heads back towards the elevators.  Once on her floor, she walks down
the hall rummaging in her bag for her keycard.  Finding it, she opens the
door.  Her father does not even notice that she's back.  He is just
finishing a phone conversation as she crosses the room.  She sneaks up
behind him, waits for him to hang up, and then kisses him on the cheek.
   "Hello daddy."
   "Hello pumpkin.  Have a nice afternoon?"
   "Yeah.  I think my tan did pretty good."
   Looking at his daughter, "Yeah.  I think it did pretty good.  Anything
else exciting happen?"
   "I met a boy."
   Frank's world came crashing.  With those four words, the peaceful
existence he had been living ceased.  The end he'd been dreading had
finally arrived.  His little girl had met a "boy".
   "A local?"
   "No.  Believe it or not, but he's from Columbus.  And he may be the only
English speaking kid in the place.  Besides me."
   "O.K.  So how old is he?"
   Amy could have told the truth, but she knew her dad would never let her
hang around with a boy two years older than her.  So she simply said, "I
think he's twelve.  And, he invited me to go with him, and his parents, to
the beach tomorrow."
   "I'm not sure I like the idea of you going to the beach, alone.  The
pool is bad enough, but at least there's people there.  The beach is much
more, private?"
   "Daddy.  His parents will be there.  Besides, his dad is some kind of
doctor, or something."
   "So they're here on vacation?"
   "Yeah.  Resting.  After school let out, they headed back home to England
to visit family, and now they're resting up before going back to Ohio."
   "So their from England?"
   "Yeah.  His dad helped create a surgical something, so now he's at Ohio
State, teaching to people."
   That bit of news was an eye opened.  Anyone who was invited to a foreign
country to teach in a medical school, had to be trustworthy.  Besides Frank
appreciated higher education.  A medical school professor rated high in his
book.  He decided to let the kid go.
   "After lunch, and you have to be back by five."
   "Right.  Tomorrow, and back home around five."
   Now Frank distinctly remembered saying "by five" but he wasn't going to
argue the point.  A near definitive curfew was enough.  Besides, he didn't
even know what time it was now.
   Now the reason Amy had to be back today though, was she and her father
had a 6:30 dinner appointment in the main dining room with the hotel's
owners, to discuss the preliminary ideas for the hotel's new addition.
   Amy went into her room, and undressed.  In the bathroom, she showered
and shampooed her hair.  She put on one of the guest robes she had grown to
love, and sat at a small dressing table in her room to brush, and dry, than
re-brush her hair.  When it was done, she put on her socks and shoes, and
wearing the robe, headed into the main room to try to get her father ready
for his meeting.
   "Why should I get ready, when you aren't?"
   "Silly.  I don't want to get my dress dirty.  It will only take a minute
to slip it on.  Everything else is done.  Do you like my hair?"
   Her hair was usually worn in a ponytail, halfway down her back, but
tonight she decided on something different.  Her hair was accented with a
cheap little plastic headband, a shade of blue, almost exactly the same
color as her dress.  It flowed over her shoulders, spreading out, and
making her look, so she thought, more like a young woman, than a little
girl.
   Her father stared.  He really had no idea how to respond to questions
like this.  So he simply said, "If you were any prettier, I wouldn't get
anything done tonight."
   The child beamed.  Her smile reflecting her glory.
   Frank finally stopped working, and headed to his room to shower.  When
Amy heard the water running, she looked at his work table.  Turning over
papers, she really didn't understand what they were.  But, she assumed that
her father did, and that the men they would be eating with that night,
would too.
   When the water stopped, Amy gave it another five minutes then headed to
her room.  Going to her bed, she looked at her new evening dress. 
Imagining herself another Cinderella, she removed the robe, and carefully
slipped into the gown.  Back at the dressing table, for a last, final hair
brushing and she was ready.  She headed back to the suite's sitting room to
wait for her father.
   When he came out, Frank was dressed in one of his best business suits.
His hair immaculately groomed.  Face perfectly shaved.  Shirt, actually
tucked in.  Shoes polished to perfection.  He was carrying a couple of
small parcels with him as he entered.
   "Honey."
   "Daddy?"
   "Seeing you in that dress yesterday, well it made me realize that you
were growing up."
   "Daddy." Amy hated it when her father embarrassed her like this.
   "I have a few things for you." Standing next to her, he placed the
packages on a side table, then brought to her one of the smallest.  It was
a jeweler's box, and when it was before her, he opened it.  Her scream of
delight said it all.
   Inside was a small necklace.  A simple silver chain supporting a small
diamond pendant.  Also inside the case were two, small, matching diamond
chip ear rings.
   "You do have pierced ears?"
   "Yes."
   "Then allow me." Without asking permission he removed the necklace from
the case as his daughter maneuvered her hair out of his way.  Wondering how
and when she'd learned to do that, he realized that she had been watching
her mother dress for formal occasions for years.  When the necklace was in
place he then removed the ear rings.  Attaching one to each lobe, it took
him a little effort to get the pins into the small holes.  But he finally
managed.
   "Stand up sweetheart."
   Her excitement overflowing, the child stood up, and twirling slowly,
showing herself off to her father.
   "Almost perfect.  Those shoes do not do that dress justice."
   With that announcement, he grabbed the second parcel, opening it to
reveal a pair of girl's blue dress shoes.  But this pair was also high
heeled.  The heel was almost an inch of rise, and the rest of the shoe was
a series of straps, that created a style, if not substance.  A small buckle
at the ankle served to finish the look.
   The child was delighted, but her father had more.
   "Anyone who wears shoes like these, does not wear socks!"
   He reached into a small bag and produced an item that puzzled her.  When
he reached in again and pulled out a pair of light blue, silk stockings,
she knew.  She had never worn a garter before, but she had an idea of what
went where.  But she still wasn't certain.  So instead of taking the items
into her room, and putting them on there, she handed the garter to her
father, and raised them hem of her dress up, so he could put it on her.
   A little taken aback, he asked the simple question.  "You want me to
help you?"
   Her nod was her only response, so kneeling down, he raised the dresses
material further out of his way, revealing her panty-clad pelvic area to
his gaze.  Ignoring this, he wrapped the belt around her torso, and
fastened it into place.  Then motioning her to sit, he rolled up the
stockings, sliding them up each leg, and attaching it to the garter belt.
   When the shoes were properly installed, the look was mesmerizing.  A
small, white wrap, over her shoulders completed the ensemble.
   "Princess."
   "Yes daddy?"
   "I never really realized, until today, how much you resemble your
mother. When we first met, she was almost as beautiful as you."
   "Daddy." The child blushed, but embraced him in a total body hug that
said it all.  Taking her hand, and helping steady her, for her first real
walk in high heals, they exited the room, and rode the elevator to the
ground floor.
   Evan though they were early.  Their hosts were still ahead of them,
having just walked in the hotel's front entrance.  They were just walking
towards the restaurant's entrance, as Frank and Amy emerged from the
elevator.
   Walking quickly, they joined their hosts as the maitre d approached. 
Frank introduced Amy to their hosts, as Messieurs Kellerman and Napier. 
Seated at the table, Amy was grateful.  Although it was exciting, walking
through the lobby, looking so grown up, and beautiful, she was still a
little unsteady on her feet.  She was a little embarrassed, as the maitre d
pulled a chair out, and motioned her for her to sit.
   All the men remained standing, non moving to sit down themselves, until
she was seated.  She blushed slightly at the attention, but as the room was
a little on the dark side, no one noticed her embarrassment.
   The Maitre D then took her shawl.  She was comfortable at the table. 
The men occasionally directed questions at her, to keep her from becoming
bored, and she was quite surprised when she was asked if she was enjoying
the facilities.
   When they saw how much she was enjoying her stay, they informed her that
she had a free run of the hotel, as their "guest" any service she desired,
would be granted, and covered, no charge.  Just give her name as Miss
Thompson, and her room number, and it would be taken care of.
   She immediately determined to take advantage of all the amenities of the
Hotel's activities.  She had wanted to have her hair done, and maybe have a
facial, her first ever, but didn't quite know how to approach her father
with the request.
   But then things went a little sour for a moment, when a waiter appeared,
and placed in her hands a menu.  Written in French, it might as well have
been written in Greek.  Her father noticed her frustration, as she was
actually biting her lower lip.
   "Is there a problem, sweetheart?"
   "The menu is in French."
   "Yes."
   "I don't read French."
   Their host, Monsieur Kellerman, laughing at this revelation, and
realizing that the child had probably never eaten at a gourmet French
restaurant, took charge of the situation.
   "Perhaps, mademoiselle, since I am familiar with the language, and am
familiar with the Chef d Cuisine, perhaps you would give me the pleasure of
ordering for you.  I will be conservative.  You will enjoy the meal.  No
eels.  Or anything disgusting.  I promise!"
   The child smiled, and graciously agreed, thanking him.
   When the waiter arrived, her meal was ordered first.  She realized this,
when several questions were asked of her father.
   Soon the waiter returned, and her first ever gourmet French meal
started.
   At first she was served a small glass of orange juice.  The men were all
served mixed drinks from the bar.
   Then, a short while later, The waiter arrived and placed before her
something she had been served on a previous occasion, and loved.  A large,
jumbo shrimp cocktail.  Them men were served small slices of what looked
like the inside of a hotdog, but shaped like a small slice of meatloaf. 
Amy looked at her father, and as they all enjoyed their amuse-gueule.
   Then the waiter brought the table their "first entrees".  Amy was served
a small dish, with little grey dumplings, in a sauce that looked like
butter, and smelled of garlic and herbs.
   All the others at the table were served the same.  Frank, though looked
puzzled.  He recognized the contents of his plate, but the presentation
puzzled him.
   His host addressed the issue, in French.  "I had the kitchen prepare the
escargot in such a way that she wouldn't know what it was.  I thought it
prudent, that we should all be served similarly, so as not to spoil the
effect.  Brilliant.  No?"
   "Oui.  Brilliant." With that settled, they proceeded to enjoy their
meal.
   Whatever they were, Amy couldn't figure out, but with all the butter,
herbs and garlic, they were delicious.
   When they had all finished, the waiter removed their plates, replacing
them with small dishes of lemon sorbet.
   Amy, thinking that the meal was over asked, quite innocently "Desert
already?"
   The men all laughed.  Frank answered for them "No sweetheart.  A
spoonful or two of sorbet will prepare your palate for the next course."
   "Why does my, PALATE, have to be prepared?"
   "Remember all the garlic in the escargo?"
   "Is that what we just ate?"
   "Yes."
   "Yeah.  There was a lot of butter and garlic in that, whatever they
were. What are escargo?"
   "A major French delicacy.  Were they good?"
   "Delicious."
   "Good.  Well anyway, what you are about to be served may be cooked with
an entirely different style.  You won't want the garlic from the previous
course flavoring the next?  Do you?"
   "No." Amy was puzzled, but was willing to trust them on that issue.  "I
don't think so."
   "Good.  So finish your sorbet, and then the waiter will bring your next
plate."
   Amy was still kind of puzzled at having desert between courses.  But as
she was still hungry, she attacked her lemon sorbet.  Before she was done
though, the rest of the table had finished theirs, and the waiter had
arrived with the next course.  He removed the sorbet cups, and than placed
in front of her, a plate with a small piece of poached fish, covered in a
sauce, with three pieces of asparagus wrapped in what looked like thinly
sliced ham.
   Since she liked fish, and this looked like salmon, she had no questions.
Taking the fork on the extreme left of her setting, just like her father,
she cut off a piece of salmon, dipped it in the sauce, and upon tasting it,
wished her mother could cook like this.  The butter, wine and other
seasonings was fantastic.  The asparagus, well, she'd eaten better. 
Clearing her plate, she politely waited, as the adults finished theirs,
continuing their conversations on plans for the hotel.
   The waiters cleared this round of plates, and then the sorbet returned.
Amy took three spoonfuls this round, and then politely waited for the next
surprise.
   When the waiter removed the cover to her plate, she discovered chunks of
beef, cooked in a red wine sauce.
   "Boeuf Bourguignon" Monsieur Kellerman responded.  "Beef, cooked in red
wine, with onions, herbs, and other seasonings."
   It sounded harmless enough, so Amy took a bite.  It wasn't the best
thing she'd ever eaten.  She would have liked another serving of that
salmon dish she'd just finished.  But it was pretty good.  The meat was
tender.  But it tasted a little too much of wine for her.  Especially since
as she finished the bite, the sommelier poured her a glass of wine.
   Yet she finished the beef, and she definitely finished the wine, before
her father realized that the waiter had made a mistake, and given her a
glass.  That he knew all along, never entered her mind.
   A salad followed.  It wasn't bad, but Amy would have preferred a French
dressing.  She also wondered why it was coming now, and not before the main
course like in a "normal" restaurant.
   After this was finished, the waiter brought each of them a small plate.
Since it only contained a small selection of crackers, she wondered what it
was for, until he placed on the table a wooden board, with small chunks of
different cheeses, and a second plate with fruit, namely grapes, apples and
pears, and a selection of in-shell nuts.  Next to her plate was also placed
a small knife with what looked like fork tines on the end, along with a nut
cracker.
   The fruit and cheese were passed around.  Since Amy liked cheese, she
took a small sampling of each, including one with small blue lines running
through it.  She thought it was an American bleu cheese, which
surprisingly, she liked.  Even though it smelled terrible, and all of her
friends thought she was crazy.
   And then it was time for desert.  Crème Brule!  The custard was smooth
and creamy.  The caramel topping was rich, and crusty.  And it was served
with a fruity sauce made with different berries, sugar, brandy, and which,
at the last minute was set on fire by the waiter, right at their table.
   The sommelier came by one last time, this time with a desert wine. 
Sweet, and fruity.  And Amy was surprised as again, a glass was poured for
her.  Since her father had said nothing about the first glass, she sipped
this one more slowly, as she finished her desert.
   And when she was done, the meal ending, the business discussion was
concluded with the messieurs smoking cigars, as all three men drank coffee.
Monsieur Napier asking if she wanted any, she said no.  With the evening
ending, her father rose, and she got up as well.  She had to endure one
more round of compliments, again grateful that no one could see her
blushing.  They exited the dining room, to the main lobby.  There they
separated, with the messieurs reminding her that the "Hotel and all of it's
facilities" were at her disposal.
   Frank stated that "she would, but within reason, take advantage of their
generosity!"
   They separated, and Frank and Amy headed towards the elevator, Amy
holding onto her fathers arm, since she wasn`t all that experienced in
heels, and she had had two glasses of wine.  When they got to their room,
Amy headed towards her bedroom.  The dress came off, and was immediately
hung up in the closet.  Then, she stood in front of her mirror, examining
her body.
   Evan though she had not yet started developing breasts, she still
thought that the garter helped make her look "older".  The little girl
panties didn't help though.  Reluctantly, she removed her shoes, then the
silk stockings.  How was she going to explain them to mom?  She'd worry
about that later.  The garter was next.  Staring at herself in the mirror
again, she ran a couple ideas on how she could talk her mom into more
"adult" underwear.
   Still, it wouldn't be long before she'd be needing a bra.  Perhaps then.
Perhaps when she started filling out, she could convince her mom into
letting her have a thong?  Perhaps reality would turn the Eifel tower
upside down, before that would happen.
   She put on her pajamas, tonight a Spongebob Squarepants dorm shirt. 
Heading out to the sitting room, she climbed up onto the couch with a
paperback of the latest "H---- P-----" novel.
   "Sweetheart, shouldn't you be getting to bed?"
   "Daddy, it's only eleven o'clock."
   "Yeah.  Way past your bed time."
   "It's summer vacation.  I don't have a bed time."
   "But we have to get up in the morning."
   "Why?"
   "I have some shopping to do, and you have to come with me.  And we have
to do it early if you're going to meet up with, what's his name, David, for
the beach.
   "Where are we going?"
   "That's a surprise." Frank was not interested in letting her know what
was planned.  She would just have to wait.  "Get your butt into bed, and
maybe you'll find out in the morning."
   Amy knew when she was beat.  Without another word, she slunked her way
to her room, climbed into bed, and was soon fast asleep.
   The end of day two - Monday 
  
Amy's Summer Vacation - Day 2