The Summer of Us

by Moreland, Melanie

  “Oh, Linc,” she whispered.

  “I tried to get in touch with you. I wrote you every day for three months. I finally figured out the letters weren’t reaching you, and I bribed another kid who had freer access than me to take my letters to town and send it. He had his return info on it, and it came back, saying Unknown-Moved.”

  “Your father made it impossible for us to stay. He didn’t do any of the things he threatened, but he made life hard for my mom. She lost shifts and her work was called subpar in her file. Rumors were flying about how I had stalked you—even following you to the camp when you tried to get away from me. Emily and Hayley were being picked on. The whole town was talking about us.” She closed her eyes. “My mom’s cousin out east told us we could move there and he would help. We basically left everything behind unless it was sentimental and walked away. He had a place in a small town in the Maritimes, and we settled there. The girls went to school, Mom found a job, and I tried to pick up the pieces of my life. He even adopted us, and we took his last name—Hilbert.” A small smile crossed her face. “We called him Uncle Pete, and he loved that. We all needed the fresh start. You couldn’t find me because Uncle Pete had the records sealed in case your father looked for us.”

  That explained why I couldn’t find her. “I changed my name too. I didn’t want anything of my father’s. I’m Lincoln Webber now.”

  “It suits you.”

  “It does. I’m my mother’s son. I want nothing of my father—including his name.”

  Silence pulsed in the room until she spoke, her confession whispered into the air.

  “I missed you every day.”

  “My memories of you, of us, were what got me through it,” I admitted.

  She lifted her head and pulled on a chain around her neck. The pendant I had given her, now dull, dangled from the necklace. I was shocked to see it, my heart bursting at the thought of what it meant. She had cared all this time. The same way I had cared for her.

  “You still wear it?”

  “I never took it off. It was the one thing I had that was still real. Well, that and this.” She pulled out a set of keys, held together with a strip of leather I recognized. I took them from her and touched the leather, thinking of her expression when I’d snapped the cuff onto my wrist, swearing never to take it off. Another promise I failed to keep because of that bastard.

  “Why did you come back?” I asked.

  She looked sad. “My mom grew up here. She missed it.” She swallowed, her gaze on her hands. “Uncle Pete died. Then she got sick, Linc. She wanted to come back. We had seen the news that your father died, and it had been so long, we figured most people would have forgotten us. The girls were busy and happy, getting ready for university, and I wasn’t attached to anything or anyone out east, so I brought her back.” Her voice became thick. “She died last year.”

  “Sunny,” I murmured and dragged her back into my arms. She came easily, fitting against me. “I am so sorry,” I said, kissing her crown, my eyes damp. “Your mom was always good to me.”

  “She liked you. Even after everything, she always insisted there was more to the story than we knew.”

  “I’m glad she thought enough of me to think that.”

  “What happened, Linc? Why did you come back?”

  “My father brought me back after I turned nineteen. He thought I was broken, that I would toe the line. He didn’t expect me to have done my homework and to beat him at his own game.”

  She frowned, confused.

  “It was all about money, Sunny. The money my mother left me. My father always led me to believe there was just a little money waiting for me when I turned nineteen. Nothing of significance. But I had seen the paperwork. He had left it out once in error. There were millions, and the way it was invested, it kept growing. He planned on me signing it over to him, and then he’d get rid of me. Some job somewhere where I’d be none the wiser and he wouldn’t care what I did, or who I did it with. He could keep an eye on me but be rid of me at the same time. He really thought I was that stupid and that broken. But I knew about the money, and the years I spent in that place taught me a few things. I found out ways to get around the stipulations that kept me locked down, with the help of a few friends. As soon as I was back, I contacted my mother’s lawyer, and we were ready. I met with my father just to watch the expression on his face when he realized I knew.”

  I stood and paced. “I walked away from him and started my own company. Just like him, I kept myself hidden, but I did the opposite of what he had done all those years.”

  “What do you mean?”

  I perched on the edge of the desk. “I started buying up properties here in town and gifting them to people he’d been screwing for so long. I used every resource I had and killed every deal he tried to make. News of his double-crossing started to spread. Word leaked out—I made sure of it. I bought every run-down home there was in this town and rebuilt them, employing the people he put out of work. I made rents in the new places lower, and people flocked to them. His places were empty. I picked them up for a song and did it again. I used every dirty trick he had ever utilized to take away the two things that ever mattered to him. Power and money. Without power, the money dwindled until he was struggling and starting to lose everything he had. He died before it happened. I took over the estate and tripled the wealth.”

  “The park,” she stated, already knowing the answer.

  “Yes, that was for you.”

  Her eyes glimmered, and we shared a smile.

  “Did he know?” she asked quietly. “That it was you?”

  “Yeah, he did. The rest of the world, no. But him? Yes.” I studied her. “In some ways, I’m like him, Sunny. I systematically set out to take him down and made him pay for every horrible thing he did. The people he hurt. How he treated my mother. His misuse of power. His hatred of me.”

  “That doesn’t make you like him,” she replied. “That makes you human. And your endeavors helped people.”

  I looked out over the town below. “I hope it did. It was the one thing that kept me going after I lost you.”

  She stood and crossed over to me. I pulled her into my arms, holding her close.

  “Are you still lost, Sunny?”

  “I don’t know,” she admitted. “So much time, so many mistakes, and so much hurt has happened.”

  “But you’re here,” I insisted. “You came to me.”

  “To tell you off.”

  “But you stayed,” I added, my voice low. “You’re still with me.”

  She said nothing, her head resting on my shoulder.

  “We would have to take it slow,” she said finally. “I have to learn who you are now, Linc, and you have to get to know me. I’m not the same girl you lost ten years ago. I don’t know how you went from the boy you were to the man you are today.”

  “I know.” I reached behind me into the box and held out the stacks of envelopes. “You could start by reading these.”

  She took them, confused. “What are they?”

  “The letters I wrote you. My father obviously had them waylaid. I don’t know why he kept them, unless he planned on using them to hurt me at some point.”

  She took them from my hands. “There are a lot.”

  “I wrote you every day. Some days, it was the only way I could cope. It felt as if I was talking to you.”

  Tears sprang to her eyes. “Are we too damaged for this, Linc?”

  “No. We made it through all this shit for a reason.” I cupped the back of her neck. “Let us be the reason, Sunny.”

  She bit her lip, the gesture familiar and comforting. “Slow,” she repeated. “It would have to be slow.”

  “I’m good with slow.”

  She stepped back. “I’m going to leave. I need to think, and I have some reading to do.”

  I stood. “I’m ready to get out of here.” I slammed the lid shut on the metal container and slid it back into place. I’d figure out what to do with
the contents later. Right now, my head was spinning.

  “What are you doing with this place?”

  “It’s being emptied, then I’m having it destroyed. I want to keep nothing of his, and I want no reminder of him in this town.”

  “And the land?”

  “I’ll decide that later.”

  Outside, I loaded two boxes into my car. I looked around. “Did you walk here?”

  “Yes.”

  “Can I drive you down?”

  “Okay.”

  “And can I see you tomorrow?”

  She smiled. “I guess you’re on a roll, Linc.”

  I smiled as I slid into the driver’s seat. I pulled away from the house that had been another kind of prison to me.

  I didn’t look back.

  * * *

  I was at the shop before it opened the next morning. I had barely slept all night, thinking of Sunny. I had kissed her when I dropped her off. A long, gentle kiss that promised more. I would let her set the pace. I made sure we had each other’s phone numbers and even texted her a few times to check in. By her fast responses, I knew she was feeling the same anxiety. The last time I’d kissed her goodnight, we’d been torn apart. Morning couldn’t come fast enough for me. I paced my hotel room, apprehensive, worried, and unable to settle. I couldn’t shut off my mind or my thoughts. I hadn’t planned on staying past one night and after that, never planned on setting foot in Mission Cove again. But now, those plans, it seemed, were discarded.

  She came to the door, rolling her eyes. “I’m not even open yet.”

  “But I can come in, right? I smelled biscuits.”

  “Of course you did.”

  I stepped inside, leaning down and brushing a kiss to her cheek. “Hi.”

  She turned and kissed my mouth. It was far too brief for my liking. “Hi.”

  “You okay today?”

  She nodded.

  “You look tired,” I murmured, tracing a finger under her eye.

  “I read some of your letters.”

  “Just some?”

  “They were difficult to read. I had to stop.” She hesitated, and I saw the look of pain in her eyes. “They upset me. Knowing what you went through. That you were alone and scared.”

  “I’m here now. I was tougher than he thought. I was fighting to get back to you. To restart my life.”

  She paused, frowning. “You always wanted to be a vet. You loved animals.”

  I shrugged. “My life went in a different direction. I still volunteer when I have time. I love animals, and I support a large number of charities that help them.”

  “Like the shelter here?”

  “Yes, like the shelter here. And other places. My father took that dream away from me as well, Sunny. He robbed me of everything I loved all those years ago.”

  “He robbed us both.”

  “Yes, he did.”

  She looked as if she wanted to say more. But I wanted today to be about us. Now.

  “Um, biscuits?” I prompted. “Hungry here.”

  “Right,” she replied, wiping her eyes and straightening her shoulders. “Savory or sweet?”

  “Ah, both?”

  “Sit down.”

  I watched her from the spot I chose in the corner. She moved gracefully, confident with herself. I tried not to stare, but she was so beautiful. Even years later, there was an air of sweetness around her.

  She placed a plate in front of me, piled high, and a small pot of jam alongside it. “Milk?” she asked.

  I tried not to be too pleased that she remembered I always liked milk with biscuits. I shook my head. “Cappuccino, please.”

  “You never liked coffee.”

  I shrugged. “I learned.”

  Without a word, she turned, and a few moments later, a steamy bowl of froth was set in front of me. “Thank you.” I looked up. “These are as incredible as I remember.”

  Her smile was bright, her voice teasing. “I guess after making about a million fucking dozen, they should be.”

  My biscuit froze partway to my mouth. “You don’t swear.”

  She smirked, then turned and walked away. “I learned,” she called over her shoulder.

  I chuckled as I ate my biscuit.

  Learning. That was what we had to do. Relearn each other. Move forward from the past.

  Could we do that? Could we be Linc and Sunny again?

  She slid into the seat across from me, sipping a cup of coffee. She looked out the window.

  “It’s almost summer,” she mused. “It’ll be busy here again.”

  I reached across the table for her hand. She let me take it, and I liked how mine engulfed hers, folding over her small palm protectively.

  “Will you try with me, Sunny? Can we use the summer to get back to where we were?”

  She shook her head, and my heart sank.

  “I don’t want to go back to where we were, Linc. It was too tumultuous and scary. Can’t we just be Linc and Sunny now? Two people who have met and want to get to know each other?”

  “Let the past go, you mean?”

  She looked down at our hands. “The past shaped us, made us who we are. It will always be a part of us, but I would rather face the future looking forward.” She smiled. “I know we still have a lot to talk about, and deal with, but I would like to try.”

  “With me?” I asked, hopeful.

  “With you.”

  “Another summer of us, then?”

  Her reply was all I needed to hear.

  “I’d like to think of it as the start of us. A lifetime, instead of a season.”

  There was so much I wanted to say. Thoughts and dreams I wanted to share with her. Memories I needed to talk about and clear from my head. But with her words, I knew I could. We would find our way, and with time, we’d heal and move forward.

  Together.

  I hunched over the table and brought her mouth to mine.

  “I can live with that.”

  She smiled as I kissed her.

  And I was finally home.

  Part II

  8

  Linc

  I watched Sunny all morning, observing her over the screen of my laptop. She was cordial and welcoming, greeting customers by name, already preparing their orders when they walked in. I recognized a few people by her greetings but felt no pull to stand and reacquaint myself with anyone. I had never been close to a lot of people growing up, school mates included. I was polite and friendly, but distant. Mostly due to the fact that my father’s influence was too great, and simply due to the fact that most other kids found me strange. They had no idea of the rules or pressure put upon me by my father, so it was easier for them to shrug off my behavior as different. And everyone knew how kids felt about different. They shied away from it, especially if it meant going against the majority. I had been a lonely kid, except for Sunny. She had been in my life so long, when we were apart, the pain was a physical pull.

  As I sat in her shop, the sun streaming in the window, the scent of baking permeating the air, and her within my sight, that pain was now a low, dull ache. I didn’t know what the future held for us, but I knew I wanted to find out.

  She approached the table, another plate in hand. A thick sandwich sat on the simple china, and she held a glass of lemonade in her other hand. She slid them both beside my computer and sat across from me.

  “Do you plan on sitting at this table all day?” she asked with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “I do have a no-loitering policy.”

  I pursed my lips, studying her. She had always been a pretty girl, her unique coloring making her stand out. But the girl was gone—replaced by a captivating, beautiful woman. Her strawberry-blond hair had darkened to a soft auburn, the glints of red catching the sunlight as she moved her head. Her once wide, innocent brown eyes were intelligent and warm, but they held a depth of sadness that I hated to see. Most people wouldn’t notice because they weren’t looking hard enough.

  But I was looking.r />
  Sunny was still tiny, but her frame was muscular, her arms defined, her shoulders held straight, and her curves more pronounced. She was incredibly sexy. Her hair was swept up, exposing her delicate neck, the soft-looking skin inviting. I recalled kissing that neck, tasting her at the juncture where her neck sloped into her shoulders.

  I hoped to taste her there again.

  My glance fell to her hands that rested on the table. Small, with thin fingers. Her nails were short but neat, manicured, and buffed. She was never able to grow them, even as a teenager, and she was always jealous of the girls with long nails, filed to a point and painted bright colors. I was glad to see although she could afford manicures now, she kept them natural. It suited her.

  “Linc?”

  I lifted my gaze. She stared back at me, her smile growing. “Do you want to take a picture?” she teased.

  Without blinking, I lifted my phone and snapped a picture of her. My fast reaction caught her off guard, and the picture captured her startled but amused expression.

  “Happy now?”

  “Yes.”

  She pushed the plate my way. “If you’re going to sit there all afternoon and glower at my customers over the top of your computer, eat some lunch.”

  “I’m not glowering, I’m observing. I like watching you in your environment.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You glower.”

  “Maybe when your male customers stay too long.”

  “Whatever, Linc. You’ve had a lot of admiring glances your way as well.”

  “I only see you.”

  She smiled. “You’re crazy.”