Whit is his opposite with blond hair that hangs past his sharp jaw down to his shoulders. His eyes are deep green, intense. A striped towel hangs around his waist and my eyes sweep over the deep-set V of his hipbones and the scattering of blond hair under his belly button. I glance up and find him watching me watch him.
Jesus.
I look away, hoping the red on my cheeks can be blamed on the fire and focus on the blaze. Luckily Anita breaks the awkward moment by shouting, “If you think I’m cooking your dinner, Justin Hawkins, you’re crazy.”
He walks up to Anita and pushes her out of the way, grabbing a rod and skewering three hotdogs down the metal. “I can fend for myself,” he says, swatting her as she walks over to the table to fix a plate for Sibley.
He eases in next to me, so comfortable in his skin and with this group, roasting his dinner over the fire. After a minute he raises an eyebrow and says, “You have a good time today?”
I take a deep breath. “I did. It was nice to be around some other people—you know other than my mom and the Florence County records keeper.”
“Yeah, that’s not a big camper; you two must get along well.”
“Kind of. My trip was kind of spur of the moment. I may be crashing her adventure a little.”
“The grounds are buzzing with news of her celebrity. I’m sure she’ll keep busy. Don’t forget, there’s always bingo on Thursdays,” he laughs.
“Who are you talking about?” Nick asks, stealing a hot dog from the end of Justin’s skewer and giving it to JT. The little boy runs over to the tables and squeezes a giant glob of ketchup on top. I get the feeling the whole group watches out for that boy.
“Summer’s mother.”
“Oh, right,” Nick nods. “Well, that and she’s a legend around here.”
This piques my interest. “She is? How so?”
Justin points at my hot dog and says, “You may want to take that off now.”
I look down and see a charred, blackened hot dog. “Shoot.”
“Eh, give it to Bobby, he’ll eat anything.” On cue, Bobby walks over and plucks the blackened dog off my stick and walks away. “Here,” Justin says, giving me one of his remaining hot dogs.
“Thank you.”
I take it and move over to the table, filling the rest of my plate with chips, fruit, and other picnic foods.
Anita waves me over and I take the seat next to her under the gazebo. Justin sits across from me, next to Ivy. Before I lose the courage, I ask, “So how, exactly, is my mother legendary?”
“She was notorious for being pretty wild back in the day. All of our families were tight. Julia would come for the summer and stir things up just enough to cause trouble, break hearts and then leave. One summer she left for good and no one saw her again until you two showed up a week ago,” Anita explains.
“Wait,” I say, looking around the fire, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes. “Am I related to any of you?”
“You’re cousins with Anita and maybe the same to Ivy,” Pete says, licking mustard off his thumb. “But other than that, I think you’re in the clear.”
“Okay, good to know, I guess.”
Anita grins. “My mother talks about how she convinced Julia to sneak out of the house and take the car down to Myrtle Beach to the Pavilion. Back then it was a forty-minute drive. All on deserted back roads. Completely crazy. If my grandparents had found out they would have been whipped within an inch of their lives.”
I shake my head in disbelief. “My mother?”
“Yep. She and my mom were inseparable.”
“What’s your mother’s name?” I ask.
“Sugar.”
“Oh right, my mom mentioned her the other day. I had no idea.” Anita forehead furrows and a tiny frown tugs at her mouthwhen I say this, but she doesn’t respond. When the conversation turns to local gossip, I get out of my seat and head to the cooler for a drink. I open the can of soda and lean over the railing of the deck facing the ocean. It’s almost dark but I can see the white caps on the crashing waves. The wind picks up, and I shiver.
“Want my sweatshirt?”
