Tonight she had taken the bedroom next to Diana’s in the luxurious main house. Diana had refused all offers of conversation or company, and Summer hadn’t had the will to push very hard. Earlier Summer had heard the shower running in the next room. Maybe now that Diana had told everyone her secret she would get better.
The pillow beneath Summer’s head was firm. Her own pillow, down in the stilt house, was soft. Her pillow at home, a million miles away in Minnesota, was soft, too. There she had a stuffed pink and gold unicorn on the bed beside her pillow. She’d had it since she was four. It had only one eye.
For some reason, sleep didn’t come. She had slept an hour or two at Adam’s house. Maybe that was the problem. Or maybe it was what had happened after.
Summer jiggled her legs. They seemed to be energized. It happened sometimes when she would be bothered or just too awake to fall asleep. Her best friend from home, Jennifer, called it “wiggle-leg syndrome,” as if it were a disease. She’d say, “I’m so tired because I couldn’t sleep last night. I had dreaded wiggle-leg syndrome.”
Summer threw back the thin covers and climbed out of her bed. Not her bed. Someone’s bed.
She was still wearing the baby-tee and boxers she usually wore to sleep. The same thing she’d been wearing at Adam’s house as she dreamed now-forgotten dreams.
Her robe was on a chair. She put it on.
The hallway was dark, lit only by a tiny cockleshell night-light stuck in one of the electrical sockets. The hallway was defined by a railing on one side, looking out over the foyer below with its twin curved stairways. The hall took a turn around a bathroom. The other bedrooms were out of sight.
Summer went down by the right-side stairs. Her plan was to go to the kitchen, find something containing lots of chocolate, and eat it until a sugar depression put her to sleep.
But once in the dark kitchen, she looked out at the backyard. It was a long, sloping lawn that fell away gradually till it touched the water.
Summer let herself out through the glass doors, out onto the patio. She pulled her robe tightly around her, but when she felt the night air, she laughed. Silly. She had to get used to the fact that “outside” here did not mean “cold.” It was much warmer outside than in. The storm that had come through earlier in the night had blown away, leaving warm, moist air behind. She loosened the belt on her robe.
Summer stepped off the patio onto a lawn so lush and deep and springy it was like walking on a mattress. The grass pricked her bare feet, a wonderful feeling. A gentle breeze, smelling of salt and sweet hibiscus. She walked down to the water, stopping at the edge, a low concrete retaining wall just inches above the placid water.
From here, looking left, she could see the outline of the stilt house. It drew her with surprising force. It was amazing how quickly it had come to seem safe and familiar.
She walked a few steps closer, looking for…She wasn’t sure what she was looking for.
Summer sat down quite suddenly on the grass just at the edge of the water, and lowered her face into her hands. She began to cry, silently at first, then sobbing.
She cried for herself. And for Diana. And even for Adam, so stiff and controlled at the end, looking so trapped, and yet so determined not to escape. She even cried for Seth, who loved her, so he said, and had been there for her when her relationship with Adam had crashed and burned.
At one point Summer wiped her eyes, using the sleeve of her robe. And when she glanced up she thought she saw movement, there on top of the stilt house. A shape silhouetted briefly, then gone.
She took a deep breath and tried to stifle her sobs. But her tears were not yet used up.
Then she heard the soft rustle of the grass very near, and, looking from beneath lowered brows, she saw two bare legs. She raised her sight, glad that in the darkness he couldn’t see her red eyes.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hi, Diver,” Summer said.
For a while neither of them said anything. “I guess you were asleep up on the deck, huh?” Summer asked.
“Yeah.”
“I woke you up?”
He shrugged uncomfortably.
“Sorry. It’s been a bad night. A real bad night. And the worst thing is, it’s just a part of all the bad things.” She started crying again. She felt she was making a fool of herself, but that didn’t help her stop.
Diver knelt down on the grass, still seeming skittish and bothered. But he didn’t leave.
Summer managed a sobbing laugh. “I guess I’m disturbing your wa, huh?”
He shrugged again. He seemed about to say something, but remained silent.
“I thought this was all going to be this big party, you know?” she told him, not expecting an answer. “I mean, summer vacation in the Keys, what could be better? Like nothing bad could ever happen here. Like it was all about sun and beaches and meeting guys. But then it turns out there’s all this…this stuff going on.” She wiped her eyes again. “God, Diver, I just feel so homesick now. I just keep thinking about my mom and dad and my room and—”
“Um, look…” he said, interrupting her.
“Yes?”
He fidgeted a bit, then stood up. “Look, come with me, okay?”
She looked up at him, standing over her, wearing his madras swimsuit. It was still, as far as Summer knew, his sole possession in the world. “Why?”
He held out his hand for her to take. She took it. He drew her to her feet and led her down along the shore.
“Where are we going?” Summer asked.
Diver just made a sighing, frustrated noise. “Just come, all right?”
So she did. They walked past the stilt house, down to where the retaining wall disappeared and a ramp had been cut, leading into the water.
“You’d better take that off,” Diver said, pointing at her robe.
Summer did, letting the robe fall on the grass.
Diver led her to the water’s edge. It was almost as warm as bathwater on her toes. The temperature of her own skin.
Diver took her hand again. “You can swim, right?”
“Of course I can swim. But it’s dark.”
“It’s not dark,” he said. “Look. The moon.”
She looked, and the moon was riding low, three-quarters full, down over the Gulf.
Summer followed him into the water, feeling it climb up her body, soaking her boxers, creeping up to her T-shirt. At that point she let herself slip, raising her feet away from the sand and shells beneath.
The two of them swam in silence, the only sounds the water and their own breathing. Finally Diver stopped, well out into the water, out past the dark stilt house.
“Like this,” he instructed. He lay back, floating with his beyond-handsome face turned up to the sky.
Summer let herself fall back. Water closed over her face, then receded. She spread her arms wide. She could feel her hair fanning out in a swirl.
She looked up and gasped. Stars. Stars like nothing she had ever seen beneath the obscuring lights of Bloomington, Minnesota.
Summer lay there, perfectly suspended. Black water beneath her, going down who knew how far. Black sky above, going on forever. Forever.
And stars. More and more appearing the longer she looked. Too many to count, or even think about counting. Bright, twinkling points of light.
“Do you know that the light of those stars began traveling toward us way back when there were dinosaurs?” she asked dreamily. “They’re very far away.”
“No, they’re not,” Diver said. “They’re right here.”
Summer smiled. Maybe he was right. Maybe it was just like the water. Maybe the water came from clear across the ocean but it was still right there, holding her, lifting her up to float high above the ocean floor, pressing her face up into space.
“Why did you bring me out here, Diver?” she asked. Her ears were under water, and her own voice sounded muffled and far away. Like his.
“You were sad,” he said.
“An
d I can’t be sad out here, floating in space and looking up at the stars?”
“No,” he said simply.
“No,” she agreed.
4
Video Blog
Jennifer, I don’t even know where to begin. First I guess I should explain why I’m here and not down in my own house. I went down and got the video camera because I wanted to talk to someone, and, well, you’re still my best friend.
What did I tell you the last time I recorded on this thing? That I was falling for Adam, right? Guess what? That isn’t looking so great right now. I’m laughing, but only because it hurts. I mean, I was so, so into him, Jennifer. He’s like…this perfect guy that every girl would like to fall in love with.
Only, I guess he wasn’t.
Sorry. I drifted off there. Just fast-forward through that part where I stared off into space like a moron.
Anyway…it turns out there was this whole thing between him and Diana and his brother, Ross. Ross tried to…I guess he tried to rape Diana, and they covered it up.
All I can say is I feel like a jerk for ever being annoyed by Diana. I didn’t realize all the stuff she was going through. And I guess it makes my problems seem kind of unimportant. Which I suppose they are. Tomorrow I’ll try to talk to her again, you know, try and get her to go see a counselor or something. But Diana is hard to get close to. She kind of shuts people out.
Seth was there tonight when this whole thing happened. You remember Seth. He’s the guy from the airport. The guy I was kind of into before Adam? Of course you remember, I guess I probably talked about him enough on other tapes I’ve sent you. Anyway, Seth was there, too. He didn’t do very much or say very much. He just was kind of…there.
You know, it’s weird in a way, because Adam is a little taller than Seth, and maybe has bigger shoulders, but it was like Adam kept getting smaller, and Seth kept being Seth. I suddenly had this feeling that I’d been a complete moron and made this totally stupid decision.
I don’t know. Forget it. Like I said, I’m tired and confused. It’s not like I care about Seth. I would have to be the most superficial person on the planet to care about Seth when I haven’t even had time to really cry over Adam.
Wouldn’t I? I mean, it’s wrong, right?
Except, you know, Seth was always kind of around, if you know what I mean. We did have that thing in the airport, and I know he likes me, or at least he says he likes me. Of course, he probably doesn’t anymore because I blew him off to be with Adam.
You know what the problem is? I can’t ever make a decision and stick with it. I’m indecisive, that’s what it is. And you know whose fault it is? That stupid woman on the plane with her dumb tarot cards. She’s the one who got me thinking about the three guys I would meet. You know, the right one, the mysterious one, and the dangerous one?
Well, not that I believe any of that stuff at all, because I don’t—you know I’m not superstitious. I’m just saying it’s like, okay, we now have a winner in the dangerous category, right? Adam was obviously the dangerous one. Only, it was his brother who was really dangerous. Which leaves the mysterious one and the right one. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that Diver is mysterious. There’s nothing mysterious about Seth. Which means Seth is the right one.
I know, I said I don’t believe any of that stuff, I’m just saying—what if?
I feel like I’m trapped in this big web of fate. Like I have no choices. Or else I have too many choices. And I don’t know how to deal with it all.
The only good thing is that I never decided Adam was the one. What if I had decided that, and then this had happened? But I kept my options open, you know? And now I realize how smart that was, because it would be so incredibly sad to really love someone and then lose him. I mean, I learned that from Mom and Dad and all the years they’ve felt bad over losing Jonathan.
Yes, I know. That’s different. Except not totally.
I want to really love someone and have him really love me. But I don’t ever want to lose him. Just think how bad I’d feel if I had decided to be totally in love with Adam. As it is, I feel bad enough. The only reason I’m not boo-hooing right now is that I already cried.
Anyway, Jen, I’ve learned my little life lesson for the week: Don’t get too far into things with guys until you really know them. You have to find some way to…I don’t know, have some backup, or some insurance or something.
Otherwise, this whole falling in love thing is too dangerous. Remind me of that, okay? You know how I am with retaining deep philosophical insights. Especially when I’m sleepy.
5
Things Always Look Better in the Morning.
When Summer woke, she was surprised to find herself in the main house, surprised at all the things that weren’t there—the smell of mildew, the lap, lap of water. Surprised at the firmness of a pillow that had given her a stiff neck.
Then she was surprised to discover she was wearing an oversize man’s shirt. In a flash she recalled the night before, the terrible earlier parts, the sweet later parts. Her video camera was on the nightstand. Good grief, had she actually done a video blog entry for Jennifer? She’d probably babbled like an idiot. Her baby-tee and boxers were drying on the back of a chair, looking stiff from the salt water. She must have found the man’s shirt in the closet. Had this room belonged to Diana’s father, back before the divorce?
Summer got up, feeling strange and unsettled. She pulled on her robe, went to the window, and drew back the heavy shades.
“Whoa!” She staggered back, laughing and covering her eyes.
It was amazing. The sun! The sun of Florida, so much more intense than in her home state of Minnesota. The sun there was a light in the sky. The sun here seemed to penetrate everything, to be reflected back from every possible angle, to fill the world and everything in it with brilliant yellow light. The heat of it glowed from the window glass.
Outside the water sparkled, almost blinding in places. A sailboat was passing by on its way out to sea, big white triangular sails filled with morning breeze. It moved in slow motion, majestic and silent.
Summer slid the glass doors open and stepped out onto the balcony. The balcony was larger than the room, a vast wooden deck surrounded by white-painted rails. The chill of air-conditioning was just a memory in the heat that burned Summer’s bare toes and baked her upturned face.
She went to the edge of the balcony and looked down toward the stilt house. It was mostly invisible from here, hidden by trees that ran down to the water’s edge, but she could hear the sound of a hammer, pounding, stopping, then pounding again.
Seth. It could only be Seth.
It would be nice to go down and see Seth, she realized. And nice to go back to the stilt house. In fact, as long as the world was this gloriously bright, everything would have to be nice.
Summer went downstairs to make a pot of coffee. It was one advantage of being in the main house. Diana and her mother always bought great coffee. In the stilt house she had a jar of Folgers crystals. Even she could tell the difference.
Diana was already there in the kitchen, looking withdrawn and thoughtful. She was eating raisin toast and leafing indifferently through the newspaper.
“Hi,” Summer said, trying to sound casual and normal and not as if she was talking to a delicate person.
“Hi,” Diana said. “There’s coffee there already. You have to work today?” she asked casually, making conversation.
“Yes, lunch shift. Unless, you know, you want me to stay around here?” Summer poured herself a cup of coffee. “Look, Diana, maybe we could talk.”
“I don’t think so,” Diana said bluntly.
“Okay, then maybe you could talk to a counselor or something,” Summer said. “I’d be glad to go with you if you’re nervous about it.”
Diana made a wry face. “Summer, whatever you do, don’t start being sweet to me.”
“I’m naturally sweet,” Summer said with a trace of sarcasm. “I can’t help myself.�
��
“That’s better,” Diana said. “Listen, when you go down to the stilt house, I have something for you to give to Seth.” She slid a manila envelope out from under her newspaper.
Summer had a pretty good idea what was in the envelope.
“Tell him for me that he is the original sweet, decent guy,” Diana said softly. “I can’t go on torturing a guy who’d let me blow my nose on his shirt.”
Summer buttered her toast and sat down at the table. She waited for Diana to say more, but her cousin went back to gazing blankly at the paper, occasionally taking a quiet sip from her mug.
“Diana…” Summer began.
Diana sighed.
“Look, I really think we should talk about what happened last night.”
“Not much to talk about,” Diana said. “I put on a big dramatic scene. Now everyone knows just how messed up I am. I’m sure everyone is pleased—that cold witch Diana turns out to be nuts.”
“That’s not what anyone thinks,” Summer said.
“Uh-huh.” Diana tried a sneer that became a quivering lip. She concentrated determinedly on the paper.
“Diana.”
“Yeah? What?”
“I don’t think that at all. I think you saved me.”
Diana rolled her eyes. “That’s me, a regular rescue 911.”
Now it was Summer’s turn to feel reluctant. For some reason she hadn’t told anyone the details of the night before. It made her feel vulnerable or foolish.
Like Diana felt, Summer supposed.
“Diana, look. I didn’t tell you,” Summer began, “but Ross came to my room.”
Diana looked up sharply.
“He was at my door, just when you and Marquez and Seth showed up,” Summer said. “I thought he was Adam at first. He was drunk. I guess he’d been drinking for a while beforehand. I don’t know what would have happened. Maybe you think you looked foolish or something, but that’s not how it looked to me.” Summer had blurted the story in a quick burst, trying to get rid of it. But the cold fear she’d experienced was not entirely gone. If Diana had not come to the Merrick mansion, Adam might not have awakened. No one might have heard Summer crying out. “Anyway, Diana, I owe you.”
Beach Blondes Page 19