The Last Summer Girl: A Coming of Age Love Story

by S. C. York

  “Yep, the King of Mystic was playing ambassador.”

  “Bingo. Anyway, one night he took it too far. Blake invited a bunch of people back to the boat; they were partying hard. One thing led to another, and his father finds him having a threesome in the master stateroom. Then found coke all over the bathroom counter. Blake swore it wasn’t his, but Mr. Foster didn’t believe him. He’s a real conservative guy, old blue blood money. I think the family settled here just before the revolution; they were British nobles or some shit.”

  “I knew it! His nickname fits! So, that’s it? Just a party that got out of hand?”

  “Nope, one of the girls claimed to be pregnant. His father had a real fit, threatened to cut Blake out of Foster Sailing. Not only did he put the family’s name on the line but the business at risk. Can you imagine, a multi-national, multi-million-dollar company being brought down by a bartender from St. Kitts’s?”

  “Wow,” I sit back in my seat shaking my head.

  “Turns out the girl wasn’t pregnant and they moved on, but Charles Foster has a tight grip on him now. He’s watching Blake like a hawk, so I doubt there’ll be any more epic parties this summer. It’s all legend now. Mr. Foster is dead serious. Blake has to clean up, or he’ll be out.”

  “Blake will fall in line. From what I can tell of him so far, that boat means more to him than anything.”

  “It should. It’s partly funded from his mom’s estate. She died when he was thirteen, breast cancer, I think. Blake had a real hard time, acting out at prep school. I think Mr. Foster lets him get away with so much out of guilt.”

  “That’s awful. The Majesty is luxurious and all, but it can’t replace a mother.”

  “Come on, Nessa, who are you trying to fool… a mega sports yacht or your mom?”

  “Stop, at the end of the day, she’s my mother, and I don’t think like that. She wasn’t always like this, I had a great childhood…she just changed as I got older.”

  Looking at my watch, I can’t believe how late it is, “I’ve got to go, TJ. Thanks, for the talk.” Getting up from my seat, I give him a tight hug.

  “Seriously, Nessa, forget about both Blake and Ryan. This summer is about us, the trifecta together one last time. Let’s do it up right, no drama, just a classic summer.”

  Hugging him goodbye, I know he’s right. The fog snuck in while we were at dinner. As I navigate the streets, the vapor is so thick; I can’t see the road ahead of me. I let his words sink in and promise myself to stick to our side of the river and stay out of Stonington for a while.

  July

  I can’t believe I overslept, today of all days. My ferry leaves in ninety minutes, and I still need to shower and pack. Thank God June is behind me. My days at the hotel were so hectic, I barely had time to think. Eva and TJ kept me busy at night either planning bonfires on the beach or taking me to see TJ’s cousin’s band, Rip Tide, play in the bars a few towns over. Thankfully, there have been no run-ins with anyone who could cause me grief. I haven’t gone back to Esker or Stonington, keeping out of the path of Blake and Sean. I haven’t heard from Ryan, he hasn’t called or texted me and I haven’t contacted him either. It’s probably for the best.

  Hurriedly, I scurry around my room, rifling through my clothes and throwing my toiletries into my duffle bag. Block on the Fourth always draws a large crowd, the entire harbor jams with boats, turning the cove into a floating block party. Anything goes on the island. I’ve even seen people sleep out on the beach, not caring that all the hotels have sold out.

  Every year, I also make sure to visit Sadie, the elderly woman who owns the small candy shop located in the main square. She reminds me of my grandma Nell, who passed when I was fifteen.

  Zipping up my duffel, I slip on my sandals and grin. There’s no point in even trying to make a quiet getaway. I know what’s coming.

  She busts me as usual, but this time I was almost in the clear. My bag’s slung over my shoulder, my hand on the door knob already turning it open.

  “Vanessa Anne Lyman! Your father just informed me you’re planning on leaving for three days?! Three days, sleeping on some guy’s couch? I won’t have it!”

  Her eyes are wide, a small speck of spit on her lips. I haven’t seen her this worked up since the night I fell.

  “Leave her alone already, Cindy.”

  I’m floored. Dad finally sticks up for me? I turn around to face them both.

  “Mom, I’ll be okay. You need to start trusting me. I promise not to drink too much. I know not to go anywhere alone, and I’ll be with Eva and TJ the entire time.”

  She starts crying. What the hell?

  But I’ve had it. She’s been cruel ever since I came home from school and I’ve just had enough.

  “Have I been that bad, Mom?”

  She doesn’t answer, but stands in the dim hallway, with a look of horror mingling with her tears.

  “What could I have possibly done to make you cry? I save every paycheck from The Wharf so I can afford rent in Fairfield County, I’m home in my bed upstairs every night, and I just graduated at the top of my class. Can’t you just be proud of me for once? I’m just so sick of you dragging me down with your insults and insinuations.” I finish to silence.

  Her lip quivers, “I just want you to be safe and happy,” she whispers as Dad hands her a tissue.

  “I’m working on that, Mom, but I need you to support me, not tear me down all the time.”

  She leads me out to the porch, and we sit down on the glider. Sticking out my foot, I give a small push, rocking us slowly.

  “When I was twenty-six I met Jason. I never told you there was anyone before your father, but there was. I had just graduated from nursing school and got a contract overseas for the government at the Naval base in Naples.”

  Italy is a truly romantic place. Jason had come in for his physical, and when we met I got chills. I thought my heart was going to give out; it was pumping so hard. In his flight suit and mischievous grin, being with Jason truly felt like flying.

  We spent nights drinking chianti on the beach. I thought we were madly in love. When my contract was up, and I had to come home to the states, I thought he would propose, and we would work everything else out.” She stops for a moment looking down at the tissue in her hand. It’s obvious she’s somewhere else. I reach over, placing my hand on hers.

  “What happened, Mom?”

  She takes a deep breath, “Six months went by. Jason wrote me endless love letters. He promised to come to the states during his leave, and I thought this is it. He’s finally going to propose. But my dream would never come true. I’d never see him again. He was already married.”

  “What?” I bark, stunned at the unexpected twist in her story.

  “It was awful. My friend, Jean, was still stationed in Naples. She saw him with his wife and family at Christmas. She didn’t want to upset his children, so she waited until they left. Then she confronted him.

  “He said I was just his woman on base...the little nurse he cheated on his wife with, while she was back in San Diego raising their kids. No ring for me, another woman already had it.”

  “Mom, that’s terrible. I’m so sorry. I can’t believe Jason admitted the whole thing so easily.”

  “You’d be surprised what men will admit to, Vanessa, sometimes all you have to do is ask. It took me a long time to get over him. Not only because I was in love but because of his betrayal. Learning the entire relationship was a lie took time to heal. I was terribly embarrassed and was devastated and depressed for about two years. Then I met your father, we took things slowly. He earned my trust little by little. Hal’s one patient man. Years went by, we had you, and I left it all in the past.”

  “Wow, Mom, I never knew.”

  “I can laugh about it now. But even last year, the old heartache re-surfaced. I was cleaning out a few old boxes in the basement. I felt a stab right in the center of my heart when I opened the last box. There they all were. The letters he sent me, s
till in their original envelopes, rubber bands holding stacks of them. I never could bring myself to throw them away. All those buried memories came rushing right back.” She finishes with eyes full of pain.

  I stare at the limelight hydrangea bushes lining our front walk, processing everything she just told me.

  “Maybe he did love you. I mean for him to take the time and handwrite all those letters?”

  “I’ll never know. Anyway, while I can’t go back, you have your entire future in front of you. I just want you to make better decisions and choices, Vanessa. My sweet baby has turned into a beautiful sweet girl; it’s been hard for me watching you bloom into the woman you are becoming without worrying all the time.”

  Contemplating her words, I finally feel like I can relate to her, “Mom, you can’t save me from experiencing heartache. That’s already happened. Sean wasn’t a loyal boyfriend. But I didn’t find out until it was too late.”

  “What do you mean, honey?”

  “He was my first.”

  She turns red in the face and pats my hand.

  “Finding first love was amazing, it was euphoric,” I say, reminiscing back to the time when, naively, I thought I could be Sean’s last summer girl.

  “Last summer flew by in a rush of romance. At the time, I thought Sean and I had something special. The night I found out he cheated on me it felt like the ice bucket challenge—an ice cold, full body shock.”

  “He cheated on you? That stupid boy,” Mom says, slapping her knee.

  “Yes. When I went back to school, he pretended to be a loyal boyfriend when he was cheating the whole time. Right before my Thanksgiving break, he got caught having sex in his cruiser.” Mom gasps, her hand over her mouth and her eyes bulge out, “That rat bastard!”

  “Exactly. Anyway, that’s why I broke up with him. The crazy thing is he seems to think it was no big deal. He asked me for a second chance. I said no obviously, and he’s been acting strange this summer, kind of stalking me.”

  “If that piece of scum ever comes near you again, you tell me. I know some people over at the police department—we’ll take care of this.”

  “Thanks, Mom. But I can handle Sean. I’m looking forward to getting away for a few days to clear my head and not have to worry about bumping into him.”

  “That’s certainly understandable, just be safe and always be careful.” She wags her finger.

  “I will be, Mom,” I give her a tight hug. I haven’t felt this close to her in years.

  “Vanessa, I’m sorry. I know I’ve been unfairly hard on you.”

  “You think?”

  She gives a small smile and tilts her head, “Sometimes, I wish I could hide you here, safe upstairs, tucked in your bed forever. Life’s changing for me, too, you know. Your father and I will be official empty nesters in the fall.”

  I know what she means, it won’t be like when I left for college. I’m officially moving out in a few months taking everything with me, and I’m terrified.

  “Do you still have those letters, Mom?” She bows her head in shame, nodding. “Let’s burn them. When I get back from Block, we can roast marshmallows over the flames.”

  “Thanks, honey, I’d like that.”

  We sit on the swing for a few more minutes, enjoying the early morning. She turns hesitantly, fiddling with the hem of her shirt, not meeting my eyes.

  “I’m sorry you felt I wasn’t proud of you. Your father and I love you very much. We wanted more children, but it wasn’t in the cards for us. I had three miscarriages before we had you. You’re all I have, and I just want the best for you like every mother does for her child.”

  “Jesus Mom, you’re dropping a lot of bombshells on me.”

  “Vanessa, you know I don’t like that kind of talk.”

  Even in her vulnerable state, she still holds to her uptight ways and I kind of respect that.

  “Sorry Mom. That’s awful. I always wondered why I didn’t have any siblings. You opening up to me has explained a lot. Maybe you haven’t realized but you’ve been very hard on me.”

  “I’m sorry, Vanessa. I’ve been dwelling in despair. I’m bone tired, work’s been difficult and I don’t have much energy. Every day my hair’s grayer and my wrinkles deeper.”

  “I’m sorry you feel that way. But you’re still young, Mom. Maybe you should try some new hobbies? We could go for a spa day soon and get our nails done? We’ll both feel better, but right now I need to go. My ferry to Block Island leaves from New London in twenty minutes!”

  “Alright, go. Have fun. But stay away from a man in uniform. It seems you got that attraction from me!”

  “No worries, Mom. I want to be single for a while and focus on myself.” Getting off the swing, I grab my bag and give her a quick, tight hug. This time, I don’t roll my eyes when I wave reversing down the driveway. For the first time in months, I feel optimistic that our relationship will improve and I make a mental note to book that spa day.

  The Jessica W. cuts through the water, leaving a broad stream of wake for miles. She moves so fast, even in the heat of July it’s chilly out here on the top deck. Shaking my head, I wonder which boat is bigger, Her Majesty or this commercial, high-speed ferry.

  On my way to celebrate America’s birthday with my two besties by my side, I’m finally living my summer of dreams. Spray flies up, raining drops of the ocean on me. I close my eyes and grin. Raising my face to the sun, I wish I could make this moment last forever. I put my duffel behind my head and lay down on a bench, letting the sun warm my chilled, bare legs.

  The hour-long ride to Block passes quickly, and as engines slow down, I get up to join Eva and TJ at the starboard railing.

  Cruising into Old Harbor, my body tenses half expecting to see Blake’s outrageous yacht. Scanning the harbor, I relax. She’s not here.

  I don’t talk about how badly the summer started for me, and I’m grateful no one else has brought it up. I know Eva feels guilty for duping me into going to Blake’s house that night. The only time she’s mentioned Blake is to tell me how nice he’s been to her at work. Apparently, he’s invited her to lunch at the club a few times, and I can’t believe my best friend is now hanging out with Blake Foster on a regular basis. Maybe that will cheer Mom up. I can just picture it now, telling her I’m having a few friends over for a cookout and the look on her face if Blake ever showed up; it would be priceless.

  The ferry docks and we wait for the passengers below us to disembark. There’s a line of a hundred people lugging bags and coolers. It might be a while before the lower deck clears.

  “It’s good to be back, huh, Vanessa?” TJ puts an arm around me, pulling me to his side.

  “It is. I needed this.”

  The view in front of us is one I often see in my dreams. The hill overlooking the town has old Victorian houses and clapboard cottages on either side of the streets. The National Hotel stands front and center of it all. The colonial-style, white building was built in 1902 and stands proudly overlooking the harbor. American flags hang from its expansive front porch, and they rustle in the breeze.

  A few couples on mopeds zip through Water Street. Souvenir shops are already open for business and the line to get into Ballard’s Beach already winds around the corner.

  “Ballard’s, here we come,” Eva says as she slips her backpack on and skips down the plank to the dock.

  Ballard’s is the place to be on the island. The beach bar and hotel are already full at ten in the morning. Squeezing through the crowd, we find a spot at the end of the beach and set up.

  Deciding to pitch in for cabana service, we pool some cash and a worker quickly sets up a beach umbrella and three lounge chairs.

  “I’m Jose. Welcome to Ballard’s. I’ll be your server today.”

  “Gracias,” Eva answers with a smile as she takes the towel he offers her. He’s young and hot, and according to his name tag, from Ecuador. The businesses in Block Island usually hire foreign workers for the summer, giving them visas a
nd work permits. Many come back year after year, loving the New England shores as much as the natives.

  We thank him again as he gives us menus and sets up a tray table. I lie back listening to the sound of the waves. TJ decides to walk up the street to Dunkin Donuts and offers to get us iced coffees.

  “You know you’re in New England when Dunkin Donuts opens up a store on a tiny island fifteen miles out in the Atlantic,” I joke.

  “It’s thirteen miles, Nessa,” TJ says, as he walks away.

  “Whatever, dock master,” I tease back.

  We spend the day lounging, swimming, and gossiping. It’s about four now, and the DJ plays his last song announcing the live band is coming on next.

  “Shall we head up to the pavilion for a little dancing and show Block Island how the girls from the Husky Harmonicas work the dance floor?” Eva suggests, wiggling her hips.

  “Yes, I want to see my favorite glee club girls in action,” TJ says, chugging down what’s left of the beer in his plastic cup.

  “Why not? That’s the one thing I miss about college, performing. We put on some good shows, huh, Eva?”

  “They were legendary, Ness.”

  Grabbing our towels and beach bags, we walk up to the outdoor dance floor. Surrounded by thatch umbrellas and Tiki torches, with nothing but miles of blue ocean all around us, I feel like I’ve truly escaped.

  In my white halter bikini belting out Sweet Caroline with my friends, we dance into the sunset.

  “You ladies ready to go?”

  “Yes, I need a shower, I smell like Bud Light.” The dance floor was so packed, as people made their through a few sloshed their beers on me.

  “Alright, I’ll text Dex and let him know we’re on our way.”

  Dex and TJ met at the Mystic Yacht Club last year. Dex tends bar there on the offseason and spends his summers here on Block, behind the bar at Yellow Kittens.