She said they didn’t want to overdo it. She said she didn’t have a muscle that wasn’t furious at her. She said they could just loaf. They could lie in the sun, on the beach or at the pool, and work on tanning. Neither of them was really getting a tan. They’d get back home and nobody’d know they’d been in Florida. Jerry thought this last was as unlike Pam North as anything he could think of. He thought, and said, that frying in oil was the last thing he would do voluntarily. He said, “Shuffleboard?” and Pam said, “For heaven’s sake, Jerry!” in marked horror. Then Pam said she knew. They’d just drive around Key West. They would go down and watch the shrimp boats come in. They would have lunch at the A. & B. Lobster House. Or at this place near the Aquarium poor Dr. Piersal had mentioned. Or … Key West is a small city on a small island. At its center—in the vicinity of Duval Street—traffic is thick and sluggish and there is no place to park, if one wants to park.
