“This is the coolest car I’ve ever sat in.” Summer turned on the CD player and immediately shut it off, silencing Tim McGraw. “How can anyone stand listening to that crap?”
I liked country music, but I wasn’t about to admit to such depravity. This was as close as I’d come to having a civil conversation with Summer. “That music isn’t so bad.”
Summer rolled her eyes. “If I had a car like this, I’d be the most popular kid in L.A.” She fiddled with the radio until she found a heavy metal station and turned up the volume so loud I felt the bass pulsating around me.
“Do you think he’d mind if I backed it up a few inches in the driveway?”
Tony had left the doorway and stood near his car, wringing his hands.
“Mind? He’d go crazy.”
She threw me a knowing glance and laughed, her smile directed at me.
My heart skipped a beat. She’d let down her guard, and I hoped that was a sign of good things to come.
“I’d sure love to take it around the block,” she said, wistfully.
“Maybe if you had a permit.”
“Yeah, as if.”
“You’re right.” If it were my car, I’d let her.
A moment later Summer turned off the ignition, swung the door open and threw Tony his keys. “Thanks.”
She’d thanked him.
More progress.
“I was thinking of heading out for pizza. Would you like some?” he asked.
“Sure, can I come?”
He threw me a questioning glance, and I nodded approvingly.
“Only if you promise not to play your music,” he said, a strained, crooked grin in place.
They returned some time later with two large pizzas, a liter of Pepsi and a bag of vinegar chips. I knew instantly that something was wrong.
Tony slammed the boxes down on the counter and disappeared into the bathroom.
Summer took a paper plate I’d set on the table, loaded it with pizza and chips.
“Mmmm-mmm, vinegar chips are my favorite,” I said, taking one from the bag.
She rolled her eyes, shrugged, poured herself a glass of Pepsi and, grabbing her plate, charged up the stairs. At least she wouldn’t starve.
She’d no sooner slammed the bedroom door shut when Tony entered the kitchen.
“What happened?” I asked.
“That kid has a fresh mouth.”
Tell me something I don’t already know. “She’s had a rough life.”
“That’s no excuse for her to call me an uptight prick.”
Here I’d thought we were making progress. “Why’d she say that?”
“Because she wanted to?”
Which didn’t tell me a thing.
Not that I’d have taken Summer’s side, but I needed to understand. Should I press for details or wait until he’d calmed down?
I wrapped my arms around his waist. “She’s here for only a few days. I need you two to get along.”
His voice softened. “I’ll try, but that might not be possible.”
Though disappointed, I appreciated his honesty. “What set her off?”
His muscles tensed under my touch. “Are you taking sides?”
“No, just trying to understand.”
“There’s no understanding that kid. She’s rude. It’s as simple as that.”
“What were you talking about when she got upset?”
Tony pulled away, walked toward the sink and poured himself a tall glass of water. He drank half, turned and leaned against the granite countertop. “I was trying to get through to her, but she wasn’t having any of it. I told her how much work you’d done to make her stay special. The least she could do is show a little appreciation and not give you a hard time.”
“I don’t need you fighting my battles.”
“I know that. I was only trying to help.”
“Is that when she called you—”
“She didn’t say a word, instead she stared blankly out the window. Before I went inside to get the pizza, she asked if I could leave the engine running so she could listen to the radio. Of course I refused. I was afraid to come out and find her gone.”
“I certainly understand.”
“When I returned a moment later with the food, she was hunched against the seat, pouting. Thinking it would make her feel better, I pointed out that no one but me drives the Porsche. Not even you.”
That news didn’t settle well. “Does this mean you wouldn’t let me drive your car if I asked?”
“No, of course not.”
But there was enough doubt in his tone to make me wonder.
“So when exactly did Summer start calling you names?”
“Right after she found out you’d never driven my Porsche.”
“It sounds as though you think more of that damn car than me.”
“I never knew you wanted to drive my Porsche.”
“I didn’t…but now I do. Very much.”
“Then let’s go for a spin.”
This was silly. I really didn’t care about driving his car.
It was the principle.
Plus it had a stick, and I was no good at shifting.
I had to be sure he trusted me with his precious car.
He took his keys and slapped them into my palm.
I had my answer. I grabbed the keys, but after a few seconds, I handed them back to him.
He shook his head. “I thought we were going for a ride.”
“I just needed to know you’d let me drive your Porsche. I feel better now.”
When he nabbed the keys, his fingers captured mine. “Nothing is more important to me than you.”
“Not even your Porsche?”
“Let me think about that for a minute,” he said with a teasing grin.
I reciprocated with an elbow to his ribs. But it was all in jest. Because he’d proven to me that I mattered most.
Still, I couldn’t help but wonder—would he still have been smiling if I’d really taken his pride and joy for a ride?
We sat and ate pizza, discussed my job and his. He wouldn’t know for another week whether his firm got the bid for the mall. It was almost midnight when he stood to leave. I walked him to the door and leaned against him.
We held each other and kissed.
“Last chance for that quickie in the back of my car,” he whispered into my ear.
I sighed. “There’s not enough room.”
A deep sexy laugh rumbled from his chest. “Where there’s a will, there’s a way.”
A round midnight, wearing my comfy flannel nightgown and slippers, I crept up the stairs and listened outside my niece’s bedroom. Silence. My gut wrenched. Was Summer sleeping or had she escaped through the window?
How would I explain to my mother that I’d lost her granddaughter?
As I imagined all sorts of gruesome possibilities, I pushed the door open and was relieved to see her curled up in bed. I tiptoed across the room. The light from the bathroom slanted across the bed. I saw wet bath towels on the tiled floor beside the tub.
Typical teenager. Didn’t pick up after herself.
This revelation gave me hope.
Along with the fact she’d removed her makeup and looked less intimidating. She sighed softly. I wanted to sit next to Summer and take her into my arms. But I didn’t dare wake her.
Such a pretty girl.
Yet so confused.
As I admired her long eyelashes sweeping her tear-streaked face, I noticed her right hand curled under her chin, fingers clutching the little moose Vi had given her. I spotted part of a plastic bag sticking out from under the sheets and the ribbed neck of the oversized bright yellow nightgown I’d bought for her.
When I’d picked Summer up at the airport, I instantly regretted purchasing the nightgown and had never expected her to wear it.
A child of contradictions.
I’d also selected several T-shirts, which were no longer on the bureau. Had she tucked those into her bag? Compassion swelled in my chest for my niece who felt she had to guard her possessions.
I bent and brushed my lips against her cheek that smelled like Ivory soap. I considered turning off the bathroom light but remembered that at eight years old, she’d insisted on leaving a light on while she slept.
Summer put up a tough front, but inside, I suspected she was still a frightened little girl.
I’d need to remember that tomorrow, if confronted by the angry teenager clad in black, her face masked in white.
The next morning, determined to get reacquainted with my niece, I jumped out of bed, threw on jeans, a T-shirt and slid my feet into my slippers. I called my supervisor and explained I’d need some time off due to a family emergency. Once I’d taken care of that, I checked with the hospital to see how my sister was doing. The nurse in charge let me speak to my mom.
“Hi, how’s Dana?”
“She’s doing much better, but she’s suffering from malnutrition.”
“Will she be all right?”
“The doctor says she’s had a close call. She might not be so lucky next time.”
“I wish I could be there with her.”
“I know that, dear. How’s Summer?”
“She’s still sleeping. We had a bit of a rough start yesterday, but I’m certain we’re going to get along fine.”
“That’s a relief. Say hi to her for me.”
“Will do.”
“What’s the phone number to Dana’s room? The woman at the switchboard wouldn’t give it to me. I’m sure Summer will want to talk to her when she wakes up.” I’d hoped speaking to her mom would ease Summer’s worries, and maybe lessen the strain between us.
“To be perfectly honest, Dana doesn’t want to deal with Summer right now. Your sister needs to focus on herself and getting well. I hope you understand.”
I didn’t. “Dana has focused on herself for her entire adult life.
My mother issued a low groan. “Don’t be too hard on your sister. She has her faults, but right now, she needs our support and understanding.”
My sister needed someone to kick her butt, but we’d never agree. “Tell Dana that Summer and I send our love.”
“I’ll do that. I’ll call you tomorrow. Take care.”
“You, too. Bye.”
I hurried into the kitchen and took down the pancake mix from the cupboard, measured out two cups into a bowl and added milk and eggs. I took out my frustration by beating the mixture by hand. I knew that Dana was weak, but I couldn’t understand her not wanting to talk to her own daughter. It was the epitome of selfishness. Not only had Dana chosen drugs over Summer, but she’d also turned her back on her child when Summer needed her the most.
The scrape of heavy boots against the tile floor heralded Summer’s arrival.
I turned to greet her. “Good morning.”
She’d hidden her face with white makeup and painted tiny black stars at the corners of her eyes lined with black. I inhaled a fortifying deep breath. Nothing today would mar my good, positive mood. Well, except for Dana’s selfishness. Today I’d break the hardened shell Summer had erected around herself. Today we’d become friends.
Picturing the lost little girl I’d seen curled in bed last night, I gave her a bright smile. “I just got off the phone with your grandma. Your mom is feeling much better this morning, but she has strict orders to rest so we can’t call her. Maybe tomorrow you’ll be able to talk to her.”
“Whatever,” Summer said, waving her hand, her frown deepening.
“I’m sure your mom misses you a great deal.”
She shrugged. Disbelieving eyes met mine.
I’d expected Summer to vent her anger over not being able to speak to her mom. Was she disappointed? Maybe after everything she’d been through, she didn’t want to talk to Dana.
Hoping to change the subject and boost Summer’s mood, I asked, “Would you like blueberries in your pancakes or do you prefer them plain?”
She lowered her head. “You don’t need to go to all that bother. Coffee will do.”
What kind of breakfast was that for a growing child? Did she skip breakfast most mornings? “It’s no bother. I like to cook.”
“Yeah, right. I hope you don’t expect me to do the dishes and all that cleaning up shit.”
I winced at her language. “I hate doing dishes, too. That’s why I have a dishwasher.”
A look of satisfaction claimed her face as she shrugged and dropped into a chair.
I remembered Tony’s conversation with her, and I didn’t want Summer to consider herself a burden. “I might have gone a little overboard on preparing for your arrival because I was so excited. I had such a good time shopping that I couldn’t stop myself, so if you don’t like something, feel free to say so. I only wish you were here under happier circumstances. After your mom’s better, I hope you can come see me every few months.”
She lifted her right shoulder in a noncommittal shrug.
I tried a new subject. “Oh, Tony’s daughter, Chelsea, is about your age. She’s invited you to hang out with her and her friends at the mall this afternoon.”
“Why’d she want to do that?” she asked, suspicion darkening her eyes.
“She thought it would be cool to hang out with someone from L.A.”
“Oh.”
I’d expected her to refuse. Oh sounded promising. “So will you go?”
“Maybe.” Her lips twitched, a smile tugging the corners of her mouth.
More progress.
“I’ll give you fifty bucks.”
“You don’t need to do that.”
“I want to. The other girls will want to shop for clothes, and I thought you would, too.”
“I got plenty of clothes.”
That was a matter of opinion.
Why was I so judgmental around Summer?
Because I cared, deeply. “You can still take the cash in case you find a CD or something else you can’t live without.”
Her wary gaze met mine. “What do you want from me in exchange?”
“I want you to have a good time while you’re here.”
“Yeah, right.”
“I mean it. Do you remember how much fun we had the last time you were here?”
A faraway look came into her eyes. “No.”
Disappointed, I forced a smile. “I’m surprised you don’t remember, we had such a great time.”
Directing a stony gaze at me, she said nothing.
I glanced down and adjusted the dial on the electric frying pan. “So what’ll it be, plain or blueberry pancakes?”
“Can I have some of both?”
“Coming right up.”
A few minutes later I placed a stack of pancakes on a plate in the center of the table along with a half gallon of milk and two glasses of orange juice. I poured myself a cup of coffee and sat in the chair nearest Summer. “Help yourself.”
She slid three pancakes onto her plate.
I took two and handed her the syrup.
She drenched her pancakes and put a large bite into her mouth. She polished off her serving before I’d eaten half of mine.
“Can I have those, too?” she asked, her fork poised over the dish.
“They’re there to eat.”
Needing no more encouragement, Summer ate the last few pancakes. Some time later she wiped her mouth with the paper napkin beside her plate. “I lied to you earlier. I do remember the last time I was here. We had a blast.”
Her comment took me off guard. “We certainly did.”
“I ran after the seagulls when they stole my bag of cookies,” she said with a giggle that reminded me of the child she’d been.
“I have a picture on my mantel of you feeding the gulls French fries on the pier.”
“I noticed it when I first arrived. I was surprised you still had it.”
I reached for her hand, and she didn’t pull away. “I’ve missed you.”
“Yeah, well…” She looked uneasy and unsure how to reply.
We’d made progress.
Hope blossomed inside me.
I wanted to tell her how much I cared and worried about her. But Summer freed her hand and frowned, the closeness between us vanishing.
I wanted Summer’s outing with Chelsea to go well. But I was concerned about my niece’s ability to pepper most sentences with obscenities. I had no idea how to broach the subject without causing us to drift further apart.
But I had to try.
Later that day I knocked on Summer’s bedroom door. “Can I come in?”
“Suit yourself. It’s your house.”
I walked into the bedroom and saw Summer standing with her back to me, her plastic bag on the bed, some of its contents spread out in front of her—most of the clothing black with the exception of the few T-shirts I’d purchased. Summer wore a black skirt that reached mid-calf, ripped fishnet stockings, the same clunky boots and a black long-sleeve shirt with holes in the elbows.
My heart fell toward my stomach like a rock. What did I expect? Summer in a prom gown?
Accept her as she is.
Easier said than done.
How would Chelsea and her friends react when they first saw Summer? Chelsea was a cute girl, five foot five, straight brown hair that brushed her shoulders. She often wore low-slung jeans and cropped tops that showed off her pierced belly button.
When Summer turned, I was pleased to see she’d removed most of the white from her face. She’d left behind a thin layer that made her look deathly pale, but the hint of flesh tone was there.
Under her shirt I spotted a wedge of the pink top I’d bought poking from the unbuttoned collar. The bright color reflected a rosy glow against her chin.
“You look nice,” I said.
She glanced down and shrugged, seemingly uncomfortable with the compliment. Around her wrists she wore thick leather bracelets with metal prongs. I thought of the charm bracelet in my purse and realized how out of place it would look on her.
“I’ll be right back,” I said, running down the stairs, fetching the box from my purse, and heading back into Summer’s room.
“I bought this for you because I had one when I was your age. But I know it isn’t your style. While you’re at the mall, you can return it for something you like.”
She took the box and looked down at the package for a long time.
“Aren’t you going to open it?”
Her gaze strayed across the room. “I saw you ditch this yesterday when you saw what I looked like. I figured you were disappointed.”
“I was a little surprised,” I said with a nervous laugh. “Well, make that a lot surprised.”
She rolled her eyes.
“And of course, you’ve changed…a lot.” Keep it up and she’ll be escaping out the window.
“You think I’m a freak.”
I winced at her choice of words. I exhaled a long breath. “No, you aren’t a freak, but I don’t know what to think,” I finally said.
“At least you’re honest,” she replied, her gaze riveted on me.
“We don’t have many Goth teens around here. Isn’t that what you are? A Goth?”
“I’m just me, that’s all.”
“I understand that you want to express yourself, and that’s fine. I’ve gotten over my initial surprise, and I hope you’ve forgiven me for raising my hand at you.”
“No big deal.”
“But to me it’s a very big deal.”
I waited a moment for her reaction.
Another shrug.
“I didn’t give you this yesterday because I realized I should have listened to Tony and waited for you to pick out your own gift.”
Summer frowned at the mention of his name but kept her thoughts to herself. She slid the ribbon over the rounded edges of the wrapped velvet box, slowly removed the wrapping, folded the paper, and tucked it into her plastic bag along with the ribbon and the bow. She flipped the box open and stared down at the gold charm bracelet.
“I know this is a sad time for you, but I figured there was no reason why we couldn’t make some special memories while you were here.” I’d hoped she’d look back at our time together in a good way. I’d planned to buy her other charms over the years.
Her gaze locked with mine.
“You probably think the gift is foolish, and I don’t blame you.” I was rambling and couldn’t seem to stop. “As I said earlier, exchange it for something you like.”
She lifted and dropped her shoulders and studied the bracelet.
Summer raised doubt-filled eyes.
“The seagull charm was supposed to remind you of the great time we had together when you were eight.”
“I already figured that.” She shrugged and glanced at the bracelet again. “Can you help me put it on?”
I was pleased and discovered a moment later that it didn’t look nearly as out of place as I’d expected, dangling beneath the thick leather band around her wrist.
She jiggled her wrist and watched the charm sway back and forth, her eyes sparkling with joy.
“It looks really pretty on you,” I said.
“No shit, it’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever owned.”
I sensed her enthusiasm and a growing bond between us.
Unfortunately, I now had to ask Summer to tone down her language. I’d considered not saying anything and allowing the girls to relate to each other, but I feared Summer wouldn’t fit in. And if my small pep talk might avert a potential disaster, then I had to give it a try.
But I dreaded Summer’s response.
Pulsuz fraqment bitdi.