“I’m surprised you passed up on playing. You’re awfully competitive.” Pete and I excused ourselves from the latest round to ‘look for something’ in his apartment. Apparently, he found it. Up my skirt.
“I’m not spending my limited number of minutes with you playing games.” He sits on the top step of the stairs and pulls me down onto his lap. “The clock is ticking on school starting. I’m not missing any opportunities.”
He’s right. It’s going to suck. “I’ll come down for the Vandy-Clemson game.”
He nods. “And we’ll come up for your mom’s book release.” Her publisher put the rush on her book. She’s expecting a Christmas release, because everyone loves a little serial killer with their eggnog. “And then you’ll have spring break,” he continues. “And the military ball.”
“Yeah, not sure how it’s going to work with me having two dates.”
We both laugh and I brush his hair out of his eyes. “And then it’s summer again.”
“From there, we’ll decide.” That was the deal. We get through the year, see if this works for all of us and make other decisions. Like transferring south. Or moving north. Or maybe something entirely different.
“We can make it work,” he says. I believe him, but I’m nervous.
The fighting below gets louder and we both laugh when we hear Maggie start in. Pete stands, pulling me up with him. “That may be our signal to return to the group.”
I follow him down the steps and we can see the fireplace roaring and lanterns all around the patio. Mom, Richard, Sugar, and the others are partnered off around a big table with a game on top.
“Oh, did I tell you?” I ask, once we reach the bottom. “Mom’s leaving the Airstream at the campground.”
“Really?”
“I think she wants to have somewhere nearby also. I don’t know how he did it, but Richard won her back. I suspect she’ll move down here full time before next summer.”
“Hawkins charm,” he says, waving me off, but then I see him furrow his forehead. “Wait, so if Richard and your mom get married, what does that make you and Justin?”
I think about it for a second. “Lucky?”
He leans in and kisses me soft on the lips. “I like the sound of that,” he says, steering me toward the others.
We reclaim our seats around the table. Justin is standing, battling with Bobby over imaginary injustices in the game. Whit has one arm over the back of the chair and winks at me when he catches my eye. Nick’s flash blinds us all as he takes a million photos. I’m glad he’s documenting it all. No doubt I’ll look at them when we’re apart. Anita rolls her eyes, aware of what we’ve been up to. I ignore her and instead look at my mom. Her eyes sparkle from the fire and she’s happy. We both are.
“Dude, I’m not cheating!” Bobby shouts at his brother, but he winks at me before he throws his cards on the table.
I snuggle into Pete’s side, ignoring the theatrics, just happy to be part of this family and thankful my mother brought us to this edge of the world, one I never knew existed. For a second, I wish she had come back sooner to heal, but I know in my heart that now is the right time, the best time for us to make the most of summer.
22
PART II
SUMMER’S FUN
23
Summer
Standingin the trailer is like being in a time capsule. Not just because it’s a vintage, 1970s Airstream, but because nothing has changed since I packed my bags and left for college nine months before. It’s like my mother locked the door, handed over the keys to my cousin Anita for safe keeping, and walked out.
Not that I blamed her. When she’s not living with Richard in his house by the water, she was traveling the world on her book signing tour for her best-selling novel,Scars From A Killer, or being courted by magazines, podcasts, and movie producers.
When I told her I was coming back to Ocean Beach for the summer after my freshman year at Vanderbilt, she said I could stay at Richard’s. Justin and Whit still lived in the guest house so it seemed like an intriguing option, but after a year of living in a dorm with a roommate, I craved a little of my own space.
I couldn’t get much smaller than the trailer.
It’s after I leave the door open to allow in some fresh air and I lift my bag on the kitchen table that I notice the flower in the adjacent room. It’s a yellow daisy, lying across the pillow. Myfavorite. I pick it up and smile, wondering which one of my boys left me this little welcoming gift.
I’m midway through stuffing my clothes in the little cabinets around my “bedroom” when I hear a sharp bang on the metal door and a loud, “Summer! Are you in there?”
