“Listen! There’s a band playing reggae music. Anyone interested in checking it out?” Ms. Costa was ready for fun.
I smiled. This was a side of Ms. Costa I’d never seen before. She was dressed in a blue and pink floral print sundress with a bolero sweater in a darker shade of blue. Her flowered earrings peeked out from her long, brown, wavy hair. She never looked like this at school. “Ms. Costa, you look beautiful.”
“Thanks. So, are we ready for South Beach?”
“I certainly am.” Mom looked happy. She worried that Ms. Costa might turn out to be stuffy and boring. After lunch, she had whispered to me that she was pleasantly surprised.
Mom wore a short, black, sleeveless dress. Her curly, dark blond hair was tied up in a ponytail. She was wearing silver platform shoes and a chunky silver necklace.
Jasmine’s jaw dropped. “Ms. Costa and Mrs. C., you both look great.”
“Wow, Mom. You look amazing.”
“Thanks, honey. Sunshine in the winter does this to me. So, are you girls coming with us?”
We looked out the window to check out Pearl, the restaurant next door. The sandy area was dotted with stark white chaise lounges.
People were dressed in bathing suits and in street clothes.
“There’s no one there our age. Can we just meet you in an hour?” I asked.
“Maybe we can check out some of the shops on the strip,” Jasmine said.
“All right. We’ll meet you back here in front of the hotel at seven-thirty.
Remember, don’t talk to strangers. If you get lost or nervous, call me on my cell phone. Is your phone charged?”
“Mom. I’m eleven. You don’t have to worry. There’re millions of people walking around. Besides, it’s only for an hour.”
“Do you need any money? How about you, Jasmine?”
“We’re fine, Mom.”
“Thanks, Mrs. Christiano. I’m good for now.”
I don’t think Jasmine was used to having someone fuss over her. She tried to keep herself from laughing. I could tell.
“Are we getting up early tomorrow morning again?” Jasmine asked.
“I’m afraid so,” Ms. Costa replied.
“Will we have time for the beach in the morning?” I asked.
“It’s OK with me. What do you think, Ms. Costa?”
“As long as we’re at the Miami Seaquarium on time. By the way, Jasmine, how’s the swimming coming along?”
“It’s not,” Jasmine answered.
The sidewalks of Ocean Avenue were crowded with people sitting at outdoor restaurants. Cold air blasted through the open doorways with the air conditioning cranked up.
“I’m happy I didn’t wear my jeans,” I said.
“It’s much too warm for that,” Jasmine agreed.
We both wore white shorts, T-shirts and flip-flops. Everyone else was dressed on the casual side, too, since we were right across the street from the beach. Lots of cute little shops. Lots of places to eat.
“I think it’s raining.” Jasmine put her palm out.
“Don’t tell me that.”
A waiter who was standing outside one of the restaurants overheard our conversation. “Don’t worry, girls. That’s only the misting machine.”
“What’s a misting machine?” Jasmine asked.
“It sprays water on people to make them feel cooler.”
“Can I stand here all day?”
“If you want. There’re actually a lot of these on Ocean Avenue, so you can feel refreshed all the way up the strip.”
“Thanks.”
“How far do you think this goes?” I asked Jasmine.
“I read in a brochure South Beach is a little over twenty blocks.”
“Let’s go in here. Maybe we can try on some of these hats.”
“Oh, I see one I like.” Jasmine hurried in.
I couldn’t decide which hat to try on first.
I tried a beige lace beret—too plain. The red plaid fedora—too weird.
Jasmine tried on a white boat captain’s hat with a black visor—too big. A lime green feathered hat that made her look like the English royal family at a wedding—too funny.
The blue in the polka dot picture hat matched Jasmine’s eyes—just right. “That looks pretty on you.”
I tried on a baby pink hat with a purple satin ribbon. It had a huge black flower right in front.
“Here, put this on.” Jasmine handed me a black boa to drape around my neck.
“Dahling, I feel so beautiful right now.”
Jasmine laughed, “Dahling, you look like a movie star.”
I handed Jasmine oversize hot pink rhinestone sunglasses. “Now I look like one of those housewives on Bravo.”
The young salesclerk walked over to us. “Girls, you tried on so many hats. Did you see anything you like?”
We did a double take. The girl didn’t know that one of her false eyelashes was popping straight up.
It was also hard not to notice her black-lined lips, and orange-sprayed hair. Jasmine took a quick look at her wristwatch. “We need to leave right away. It’s almost seven-thirty. Sorry.”
“Do you girls turn into pumpkins at seven-thirty?” asked the salesclerk. “Is that it?”
Jasmine answered, “Yeah, that’s it. We turn into pumpkins. Oh, by the way, I think there’s a caterpillar loose on your left eye,” Jasmine said as we ran out of the store laughing.