I went down to check on my boat (high winds from the south) and decided to enjoy a movie and chat with some boat-neighbours. The gossip and boating lessons went as they normally do and, about 11 pm, I went below to begin my movie. About 20 seconds past the opening credits, I had to stop and enjoy a slow walk to the nearest convenience store for some required potato chips and a (diet!) coke. I grabbed what I needed and…

… The adjoining store sold wine. You know, the liquid with a horrible smell and alcohol built right in? There were several people browsing the shelves. One was a young fellow about 20 or so. Maybe 25 at the most. Nice, crisp moustache and a short, neatly trimmed beard, cardigan sweater (yeah, it was chilly) and about to buy a bottle of wine. Nothing noteworthy about him until I saw this rather short, slim-built young lady wearing platform tennis(!) shoes, tight fitting light blue jeans, a t-shirt that… wait a minute… she’s not…. In a wine store? She can’t be more than 12. She was considerably over my AoA; nevertheless, I stopped and discreetly watched from a distance. She had walked up to him and handed him another bottle which he examined briefly and added it to the one he had just placed on the cashier counter.

That was enough to make me want to know more. Then the lightning bolt struck me. I had been thinking that she was his younger sister. She was too old and he, too young, for them to be father/daughter. But, buying wine? In a well-lit, open public wine store? This is Canada; you can’t be in a store if you are underage. There she was, though. And hanging on to her “brother”, then, became impossible. Why? She put her slim arm around his waist and slipped her hand into his back pants pocket. He caressed her face, pulling a wisp of hair from around her ear. Lovers do that. Brothers don’t do that. Fathers don’t do that. At least, not like that.

He paid and they both left, entering the convenience store I was frozen in. They walked back to the somewhat hidden corner where the cold drinks were stored and the girl walked up to the back of him and hugged him. While I couldn’t see her hands outright, I KNOW the position and what she was rubbing. He, of course, pushed her hands way and laughed. Brothers don’t do that. Sisters don’t do that. Fathers don’t do that.

You tell me. Were they boyfriend and girlfriend? Were they lovers? She did look tall enough to be at least 18; but take off those platform tennis shoes and that girl was a Little Girl, no more than 12. Maybe 10. The wine cashier had seemed to be conversant with the guy and didn’t object to the girl being in there.

I’d bet my last dime that she was just 12 or less. And he? In his early to (at the most) mid20’s.

What do you think? Am I just wishful thinking or what?