She smiles and her whole face lights up. “I’m talking about your other gift. Based on how calm you are, I’d say you haven’t gotten it yet.”
Sutton’s jaw is tight and he doesn’t look too happy. “That’s not from me, Em. It’s from my parents.”
“Oh,” she says, her smile dropping slightly. “Well, what are you waiting for, Aunt Vera. Let’s have it.”
Mrs. Vera clears her throat and gives Emily a stern look that’s usually reserved for her sons before looking back at me, her scowl replaced with a soft smile. “Scarlett, honey, I was going to wait until we decorated the tree, but since my niece ruined the surprise, I’ll give it to you now.”
“Mrs. Vera,” I start, but Sutton puts his hand on my knee and gives it a gentle squeeze, prompting me to stop talking.
“I know you don’t like for us to get you gifts, but this is just as much for us as it is for you.” Her eyes start to mist over and she pats my hand. “We consider you a part of this family, honey, and Robert and I will be highly insulted if you don’t accept our gift to you.”
“Vera,” her husband cuts in. “Why don’t you just tell her what it is?”
“You’re right,” she says, but she waits a few seconds.
“Vera,” Doc prompts.
“Scarlett, we want you to come to California with us for Christmas. Robert and I bought you a plane ticket. We’re only going for a week this time, so you’ll still have part of the holiday to spend with your mother. I’ve been trying to catch her at home so I can speak to her about it, but she hasn’t been there.”
“She’s picked up some extra shifts,” I blurt. The last thing I need is Vera Winters going over there and having a conversation with Mom. They’ve spoken briefly over the years, but thankfully it’s always been on the rare occasions that she was sober.
I look around the table. Everyone is holding their breath, waiting for me to turn down the gift or argue about why I can’t go. For once, I want to accept their generosity, no questions asked. The thought of spending a Christmas with the Winters Family instead of alone sounds like heaven. For the past two years I’ve spent it in their home by myself, sitting in front of their tree, while my mom was passed out at our house. The best part of the day was a phone call from Sutton. This year, I could have an entire week with him and his whole family.
“Okay,” I whisper.
“What did you just say?” Sutton asks. I’m sure he thinks he misunderstood. I’ve never agreed to something so easily.
“I said okay. I’ll go to California.”
He jumps out of his chair, lifting me in the process and swings me around. The kiss he gives me is not one that’s suitable for his whole family to witness, but I don’t care. I love seeing him this happy.
“This is going to be great, Squirt,” he tells me, his forehead pressed against mine. “You’ll love California.”
He’s right. It is going to be great. I just have to figure out how to pull this off.
Chapter Nine
The knots in my stomach are growing tighter as I watch the minutes tick by on the microwave clock. I’m supposed to be at the Winters’ house in a few hours to leave for the airport. My suitcase is expertly packed, thanks to the help of my best friend, and propped by my feet. A note is written for my mother, but I don’t think a letter telling her I’ll be spending Christmas in California would go over too well, even though I doubt she even realizes the holiday is fast approaching.
I type out several texts to Sutton, making excuses as to why I can’t join him on the trip, but I quickly delete them all before I press SEND. There’s still time left. The knots pull tighter and my palms sweat as I watch the glowing blue numbers count down, getting closer and closer to departure time. I pick up the phone once more and fight against the tears that are certainly about to start rolling down my cheeks at any minute when I hear the rumble of my mother’s car.
She’s been gone for days without word. There’s no telling what sort of state- physical or emotional- she will be in when she walks through the door. Suddenly, I wish I wouldn’t have talked myself out of just leaving a letter and going over to Sutton’s house early. I pull in a few breaths to steady my nerves and wait for the door to open.
I stand when she walks into the kitchen, surprised at what I see. The woman that comes through the foyer doesn’t look like the Amy Cook of late. The first thing I notice is that she’s completely sober. Her gait is sluggish, but she’s not stumbling into walls or tripping over her own feet. I’m shocked, and a little scared, of what’s brought about this change.
“Going somewhere?” she asks when she spots my bag. Her voice is small and shaky. In fact, her whole body has a slight tremble. She looks utterly exhausted.
“Where have you been, Momma?”
“Jail.” So blasé, like she’s telling me about a trip to the grocery store.
“What?” I whisper, the backs of my knees hitting the chair. I sink back down and wait for her to explain herself, but she slowly walks to the cabinets. She doesn’t say anything else, so I ask her what happened.
“DUI.”
“How did you get out?”
“A friend.”
Her whole arm shakes as she fills a coffee mug with vodka. The first sip has her moaning in pleasure, her eyes rolling back. She drains the glass in a few seconds, then fills it once more.
“It’s no biggie,” she says. “I’ll just have to work some more shifts to pay him back.” Her eyes drift over toward me again and land on my suitcase. Her dull eyes blink a few times, as if she just remembered it was there. “Where you headed?”
I’ve never seen my mom so complacent. Maybe it’s from the lack of alcohol in her system, but she doesn’t seem like she’ll have much of a reaction to my news.
“I’m going to Sutton’s grandfather’s house. You don’t mind, do you, since you’ll be working so much?” I decide to leave out the fact that it’s in California.
“Whatever. I’m goin’ take a nap. I didn’t sleep for shit when I was in that god awful place.”
“Okay, Momma.”
Without another word, she leaves the kitchen and heads for her room. As soon as I’m alone, my phone dings with a text from Sutton. I should be running out of the house, ecstatic that leaving is so easy, but I’m devastated. She just doesn’t care. She didn’t ask a single question or tell me to have a safe trip. The countless times she’s told me she wished I’d never been born echo through my brain. The more the harsh words pound against my skull, the deeper they sink in. No mother who wanted their child would be so uninterested in them.
I wallow in my sorrows for just a minute before I grab my suitcase and wheel it across the street. Sutton and his brother are waiting on the front porch for me, both wearing similar looks of worry and apprehension.
“Relax, boys,” I tell them. Easton gets a kiss on the cheek and Sutton gets one on the mouth. “Everything is fine.”
“Are you sure?” My boyfriend is holding me at arm’s length, inspecting me from head to toe.
“I’m sure. She’s perfectly fine with me going on this trip.”
Easton takes my bag from me and goes back into the house. Sutton still doesn’t look reassured. I haven’t been able to pin it down, but he’s looked nervous about this trip since I agreed to come.
“I worry about you so much,” he whispers.
“You don’t have to, Sutton. You always make sure I’m taken care of.” I smile, but he doesn’t return it.
Easton pokes his head out of the doorway. “Dad’s about to blow a gasket. We need to leave in just a minute and we aren’t in the car and ready to go.”
“We’re coming,” Sutton calls to his brother, but he never takes his eyes off me. I’m growing uncomfortable under his gaze. He’s trying to tell me something, but I’m not getting the message.
“Are you alright?” I’m usually on the receiving end of this question, but something’s off with him.
Instead of an answer, he gives me a lin
gering kiss on the temple and leads me into the house. Doc is flustered, going over his packing list and double checking all the rooms of the house to make sure lights are off and all the luggage has been put into the car. Sutton loads our stuff into the back and we leave for the airport.
***
With my toes buried in the sand and the wind whipping through my hair, I feel like I’m in heaven. The beach is quiet tonight, a huge change from the noise and action earlier. Sutton’s grandfather, the original Dr. Winters, is a Professor of Astronomy at UCLA and the person solely responsible for Sutton’s love of all things in the sky. Here, in Santa Monica, under this blanket of stars, Sutton was taught at a very early age to appreciate the solar system. Easton quickly lost interest in his grandfather’s ramblings; his love was with the ocean. So, while he was learning to stay upright on a surfboard, Sutton was memorizing the names and stories behind the constellations.
The screen door of the oceanfront cottage squeals, and I turn my head from the water to the house just yards behind me, watching as Sutton emerges. His skin has taken on a beautiful golden glow in the few days we’ve been here. He and Easton have spent their days in the water, and it’s like they never left California. Emily and I tried our hands at surfing but are not nearly as talented as the two of them. We do much better on the sand, magazines and lemonade in hand, people watching.
The private stretch of beach in front of the Winters’ home has quickly become one of my favorite spots in the world. I can’t imagine living here and having this view and these sounds right outside my door.
“Whatcha thinkin’ about, Squirt?” Sutton asks, his arms wrapping around my waist.
“How peaceful it is out here. I love it.” I want to turn in his arms, but I don’t want to lose my current view.
“It is pretty spectacular.” His chin is resting on my shoulder. I can feel him start to talk, but then stop abruptly. He releases several heavy sighs, and I can feel his chest rise and fall against my back.
“What’s bothering you?”
He rubs the back of his neck a few times and then stands up, walking toward the darkness of the ocean. I want an answer to my question, so I follow him. When I join him at the water’s edge, he pulls me to his side.
“I love you.” It’s quiet and hard to hear over the ocean.
It scares me.
“I love you, too.”
“I need to tell you something.”
I’m not sure if anything good ever comes after that sentence. The desire to go back to my blanket and pretend I never asked what was bothering him is strong, but I stay glued to his side and wait for him to continue.
“I wanted you to come here with me so you could see how wonderful it is. This is my home, Scarlett. When we left here, I always knew I’d be back.” He draws in a long breath, all while I’m having a hard time getting air into my lungs. “I’ve worked my ass off in school because I knew that I wanted to come back here for college.”
His words aren’t making sense. All I can hear is the inevitable I’m leaving you.
I try to get out of his grip, but he holds on tighter and keeps hitting me with words that are hurting me… hurting me so much worse than my mother ever has. “I didn’t say anything before because I didn’t know if it was going to happen, but I got my letter last week. I’ve been accepted to UCLA, and the Astrophysics Department has awarded me a scholarship. I’m staying here at the beach house with Grandpa and commuting to L.A.”
“You’re leaving me,” I whisper. It’s all I can manage. I flinch with the words. They sound so much worse when spoken out loud.
“This is my dream,” he tells me. I know it is, but that doesn’t make this any easier. “As soon as you graduate, you can come, too. I want you here with me. You can go to UCLA. We can do this.”
The tears turn to laughter. I shake my head at his stupidity.
“This isn’t going to work,” I tell him. “You’ve got the world at your fingertips, with your brains and your money. I’ve got nothing, Sutton. I’m nothing. Just ask my mother. I’m just Scarlett Cook, poor, stupid white trash. There’s no college in my future, and certainly not in a place like this.” I fling my arm around, pointing in the direction of his grandfather’s cottage that probably cost more money than I’ll ever see in my lifetime. “I’m nothing,” I repeat. “I was stupid to ever think we’d work in the first place.”
I start to walk back to the house, but he hooks his arm around my waist. “Stop it. You know that shit your mother spews is all lies.” He takes hold of my chin and demands eye contact. “Don’t you dare doubt what we have. You are the best thing in my life. We’ll make this work. And in two years you can come out here. You can get a scholarship. We can do this.” He’s pleading, desperate, trying to make me understand. I want to believe him, but it’s hard.
Two years.
Two years can feel like two lifetimes in my household.
The thought of two years without him is exhausting. I wouldn’t have survived the last four years without him. I collapse against his chest, the tears coming faster than I can stop them. “What am I supposed to do without you?” I close my eyes and whisper the words that are the most honest of anything I’ve said all night. “I’m scared.” I don’t know if I can survive without him.
“You’re strong. God, Scarlett, you’re the strongest person I know. You can survive anything.” I try to protest, but he presses his fingers to my mouth and then replaces them with his lips for a soft kiss. “We can talk every night. We’ll sit outside, for hours if you need to, and I’ll tell you more about our stars. You can fill pages in your journal with my stories and then send them to me.” He kisses me again, this time lingering a bit longer. I’m having trouble even holding myself up from the weight of this conversation. “We can do this, Scarlett. We can get through anything. I promised you I’d always take care of you, and I will.”
My eyes swim with tears while I let Sutton hold me on the beach. He spins tales of a future with me, here in Santa Monica, far away from the neglect and abuse I have to endure back home. My rigid muscles start to relax, and I let myself actually believe the story he’s telling me.
Chapter Ten
The party guests are long gone, the kitchen has been cleaned, and the house is dark. Doc and Mrs. Vera are in bed for the night, and Easton left with some of our friends from school to hit another party. That’s what normal sixteen year-olds should be doing, but no, I’m curled up in a treehouse, crying because my boyfriend is getting on a plane tomorrow and moving across the country. I went home, but when I saw the state of my mother and her friend, I figured it was best to head to the woods and wait for them to pass out.
“I know you’re up here, Squirt.”
I don’t bother answering him. Every time I try to talk my throat gets clogged with unshed tears. I’m tired of trying to pretend everything will be okay for the next two years. It’s been hell for me, ever since that night on the beach when Sutton told me he was leaving. I just want to stay up here and cry. It’s all I can manage to do when I’m alone. My heart is broken and he hasn’t even left yet. I’m dreading the morning. I’ve been dreading it since December.
“Come here, baby,” he says the second he reaches me. “We’ll be just fine.” His voice is thick. He’s having a hard time with this, too. His strength is slowly waning the closer he gets to leaving.
I close my eyes and fight a little harder against the tears. “How can you say that?”
“Because we’ll make it fine. We can make it work.” He sighs, and I feel his exhaustion. “This is hard on me, too. I’m terrified to leave you. For once in my life, I’ve considered forgetting about my dreams, so I can stay here and be with you.” His fingers skirt along the edge of my shoulder, brushing along his favorite cluster of freckles. “I can’t think of one good reason to get on that plane tomorrow except for my Grandpa. Going to live with him is the only thing I’m looking forward to. The thought of leaving you makes me feel sick.” His voice drops s
o low I can barely hear it. “I’m scared I’ll regret it if I don’t go. I’m scared I’ll regret you.”
“I’d never ask you to give up your dreams for me.” I shudder against his chest.
“But I would,” he says, his voice strained, “if you needed me to. I’d give up anything for you.”
My mother’s words push to the forefront of my brain. “Don’t say that. I’m not worth it.”
He takes my face in his hands and squeezes… enough to make me listen but not enough to hurt. Sutton would never hurt me. “Don’t talk about yourself like that, Scarlett.”
I don’t want to talk anymore. I want to kiss him, make love to him, fuse my very soul with his. As if reading my mind, our lips collide and it’s a mad rush of hands… exploring, pulling, tugging, kneading. We’re moving fast, but I want to slow down time, freeze it, so I can remember this forever. Every nip, every pant, every taste, every stroke… I want be able to replay this whenever I miss him. Whenever I crave his touch.
“Scarlett,” he groans into my parted mouth. “We have all night. Slow down, baby.”
The request was for both of our benefits. We pull apart briefly and our hands go from tugging and pulling to massaging and worshiping. Sutton’s mouth leaves mine, teasing the flesh along my neck with sensual kisses. The whimpers that leave me are downright obscene, but I’m powerless to stop them, especially when he tugs my shirt over my head and his mouth latches onto my nipple.
I clench my arms tighter around his neck, urging him to lay us down on the blanket covering the old floor. He eases us down slowly, and as soon as I’m laid out before him his hands make their way up my skirt. His fingers tease along the edge of my cotton panties and I buck against him, desperate for what I know is coming next.
“Easy,” he whispers in an attempt to calm my ragged breaths as his long finger pushes inside of me. It doesn’t take long before he’s adding a second one, the tempo matching that of his kiss. I’m about to explode. My body is wriggling underneath him, dying to have him inside of me.
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