My Bittersweet Summer

by Starla Huchton

  I looked up at Zach, him anxiously waiting for me to get out of the car. “Eh, I’d say fifty-fifty. He seems sober now, though, so probably nothing to worry about.” I grabbed my shopping bags from the back seat and opened my door. “Thanks for hanging out today. Tell your mom I said hi.”

  He was on me the second I cleared the front of the car, Destiny’s window rolling down as he started to talk. “Margie, I am so, so, so sorry about last night. You were totally right about how I acted with those guys around. It was inexcusable.”

  I opened the glass front door and started unlocking the main one. “How’s the hangover, Zach? Isn’t it a bit bright out here for you?”

  “I shouldn’t have come here last night when I was—”

  “And you shouldn’t be here now.” The lock opened and I pushed the door in. “Goodbye, Zach.”

  He put his arm up, stopping me from closing the door in his face. “I told them the truth about us, Mighty Mouse. I promise.”

  “You also promised never to call me that again, but that one didn’t last more than an hour or two. Get your hand off the door.”

  “Not until you talk to me.”

  I choked back a laugh. “Why? So you can tell me how much you love me, or whatever? I don’t care what you have to say, Zach. It’s not my responsibility to make you feel better about your craptastic mistakes. Unlike you, when I say something, I mean it. Whatever this thing was, I’m done with it. That’s all the closure you get.”

  “How much I… What?” His eyes went wide.

  “You don’t even remember saying that, do you?” I said. “Nice.”

  “Margie—”

  Done listening to his nonsense, I held up the container of mace, the nozzle pointed at his face. “Final warning. I will use it.”

  Immediately, he released the door, backing away with his hands raised.

  “I’m not giving up, Margie,” he said.

  “I’ve had a lot more practice with patience and determination. You’d be better off finding someone your friends approve of and saving yourself a lot of wasted effort.”

  I closed the door, locking it behind me and resetting the alarm. It was surprising he thought talking to me would work, but I supposed he didn’t grasp the meaning when I told him words weren’t going to cut it. As much as I hated to admit it, I was a little curious what he might do since I flat out wouldn’t talk to him. Rain or shine, no way was I going to accept rides from him anymore, so that would be one less opportunity for him to try. Zach seemed to handle my anger pretty well, but how could someone confront apathy? Yelling and pleading hadn’t worked, and his words meant nothing to me now. His options were very limited.

  Exhausted from a great day, I let the matter drop. Yawning, I headed for my room to put down my bags. I still needed to make something for dinner.

  Chapter 14

  The next two days were eerily quiet. I burned through two full novels on my forced vacation, both in French, of course, and made a batch of blueberry muffins and a full four-course meal for my parents for dinner on Monday.

  “So, we have a surprise for you,” my dad said over the tomato bisque.

  I pulled apart a slice of bread and dunked a piece in my soup. “What, you’re making me take the rest of the week off, too? I’d rather not.”

  My mom shook her head and smiled. “No, go look out front.”

  Curious, I pushed back from the table and made my way to the living room. Peeking out between the curtains, as I’d been keeping all of them closed since Saturday’s mess, I spied a maroon sedan parked beside my parents’ minivan. It looked like a Sebring from a decade ago, but I didn’t recognize it. There wasn’t anyone inside the vehicle, so I wondered if they were hiding a visitor or something.

  Back at the table, I must’ve looked confused. “Whose car is that? Is someone here?”

  My parents grinned at me.

  “We decided that it was probably time to become a two-car household,” my dad said. “So long as you’re here, that one’s yours to use. We figured it would make things easier on everyone this way, and when you’re off at college, your mom and I will have more flexibility with errands and work schedules.”

  My jaw dropped. “So… It’s mine until Paris?”

  He nodded. “Surprised?”

  I stood up and threw my arms around him. “Thank you! Oh wow. I don’t even know what to say.” I switched over to my mom, squeezing her tightly. “This is just so amazing. How did you afford it?”

  They cast sidelong glances at each other and my enthusiasm immediately dulled. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “The Robinsons were getting rid of it and offered to sell it cheap,” my mom explained, quick to add, “but it’s a great car in excellent shape.”

  Sinking down in my seat again, I sighed. “More favors from the Robinsons? What, is this to make up for their jerk son’s behavior or something? Hush money so we don’t damage their reputation?”

  “We paid for the car, Margie. It wasn’t a gift,” my mother said, bristling. “Really, you should be more grateful.”

  I pushed back from the table, no longer hungry. “They didn’t have to bother with it, you know. I’m not going to call up some reporter with an exposé or anything. I don’t care enough to put in the effort.”

  My dad leaned over, his smile gentle. “We’re all just trying to make it through the summer, Margie. They thought this would make it easier for everyone.”

  I stood up and headed for my room. “You guys enjoy your food. I’m calling it an early night.”

  “Margie—”

  “It’s okay, Mom. Really,” I said, palms up in surrender. “I appreciate the car. Thanks. I’m just tired.”

  It wasn’t a lie. Even though I no longer cared what Zach and his friends did, their actions still affected my parents. I might be leaving in August, but they’d still have to live in a world constantly indebted to Terrence and Olivia Robinson. Living with that knowledge exhausted me instantly.

  On the bright side, the new car meant never having to catch a ride with Zach again. It was one less means he’d have of badgering me.

  A shower and pajamas later, I was still stuck on thinking about Zach and his blue Audi. Every time I closed my eyes I’d see the gray interior, smell the leather of the dashboard and steering wheel, and remember the way he looked when he asked me to teach him knife techniques. His expression then was the same as it’d been when he followed me out on break, and the vulnerability in his features haunted me.

  The memory poked at the jagged edges of whatever cracked in my heart on the beach. The wound raw and fresh, the sudden stitch of pain in my chest hitched my breathing.

  Margie Mouse.

  And he didn’t say a word.

  It was enough to rekindle my apathy, and I rolled over, off to dream of the things I’d see when my feet touched down on Parisian soil.

  * * * * *

  The aroma rolling off of the dumpsters in the mid-afternoon heat was enough to knock me back a pace when I lifted the lid. Choking back bile, I tried again, holding my breath and tossing the black trash bag inside, then hurrying away as quickly as I could. They’d be by in the morning to collect the garbage, but there were more trips to be made before then.

  As I walked back to the rear entrance of Le Beau Tournée, I spotted one of the waitresses, Jenessa, perched on the sea wall and chatting with Tori, one of the table bussers. Tori was puffing away on a cigarette while the other sipped from a styrofoam cup, and they both paused when they saw me.

  “Margie,” Jenessa called, “got a sec?”

  I glanced at my watch and trotted over, wondering what it was she wanted to ask me. “Yeah?”

  The two girls eyed each other, Jenessa’s pink-tinted lips curling up in a conspiratorial smile. “Hey, how well do you know Zach?”

  Well, there was a complicated question. “A bit. Why?”

  Tori tossed her cigarette off into the water and put a stray blonde hair behind her ear. “We were j
ust wondering if you knew his status.”

  I blinked at her. “His what?”

  “His status,” Jenessa said, pushing her black hipster glasses up her nose. “As in, does he have a girlfriend?”

  “Oh…” The question caught me off guard, but I couldn’t say I was surprised exactly. “Uh, no. No girlfriend I’m aware of.”

  “You hang around him a lot?” Tori said, her hazel eyes scouring every inch of my face.

  The scrutiny was a little unnerving. “Not really. Why?”

  “But you know a few things about him, right?”

  The conversation was weirding me out. I wasn’t comfortable discussing him with two women I knew for a fact liked to flirt with the young guys that came in to the restaurant, and were very likely the type with a Carrinaw to-do list.

  “I know a few things, but not much.” It wasn’t far from the truth, really. I couldn’t say with any amount of surety anything he told me wasn’t a lie. “He mentioned something about old cartoons once, but I don’t think that’s what you’re looking for here.”

  Tori whipped out her phone while Jenessa smiled up at me. “Could be helpful. Thanks, Margie.”

  I inched away, shrugging. “No problem. I gotta get back to it, though.”

  Jenessa waved at me while Tori more or less ignored my departure. Opening the door, my thoughts churned as I washed my hands and returned to the prep station. Eventually, it faded from my mind as the rhythm of chopping and refilling ingredients in the front took over.

  My dinner break came and went, and I’d all but forgotten the conversation. I cut up a few onions and ran them to the line, returning to see Tori leaning against the frame for the dish rack, chatting with Zach.

  “I saw you weren’t on the schedule Friday, so we could totally make the marathon. I went to the one they did for a bunch of classic movies last year, and it was a ton of fun.”

  Not wanting to interrupt, I headed past them and straight to the walk-in. It wasn’t that I cared if he went, it was more the thought of Tori being such a predator. Her voice took on a weird nasally tone, not at all how she sounded when I talked to her. I grabbed a bunch of garlic to roast for my paste, figuring I should look like I went back there for a reason, and returned to my station.

  “I dunno, Tori,” Zach said as I set in to prepare the dozen white heads of garlic. “Not sure I can do anything Friday.”

  “Come on,” she cooed. “You and me in a dark theater for hours. Some of the best animation from the fifties and sixties on the big screen. What’s there to not like?”

  Biting on my cheek to keep from laughing, I couldn’t help being amused that Zach was faced with the won’t-take-no-for-an-answer problem he’d inflicted on me more than once.

  “I think I already have plans, but thanks for the offer,” Zach said. “Maybe another time.”

  I paused mid-peel, a little surprised by his answer. Catching myself, I carried on, trying really hard to pretend I wasn’t listening in.

  “But there won’t be another time,” Tori insisted. “It’s a one-time event.” From my peripheral vision, I saw her swing around the rack and lean in close to him. “I promise it’ll be fun.”

  Oh, gross. I was pretty sure he’d said the exact same thing to me before, but at least it wasn’t blatantly obvious he was trying to sleep with me. Really ready to not listen to any more of it, I bent down and removed the small roasting pan from under my station, setting it on top of the cutting board with a bang.

  “Sorry, Tori. Just can’t make it.” The clacking of plates indicated he’d already gone back to loading dishes into the washer. “You might ask Adam at the bar. He’d definitely be down for it, and I think he’s off on Friday, too.”

  “Uh, okay,” Tori said as she backed away with a load of clean dessert plates in her arms. “Yeah, well maybe some other time then.”

  The garlic arranged in the pan, I spared a glance at Zach while I drizzled olive oil over them. I’d thought he’d at least be looking at me to see my reaction to that scene, but his attention was completely focused on a pan he was scrubbing. Frowning as I ground sea salt over the garlic, I wasn’t sure what to think about what I’d witnessed. Why would Zach turn down a sure thing with an attractive woman if he was single? I’d figured after hearing about his breakup he wasn’t seeing anyone, but maybe I was wrong. Of course, that also meant him seeing me was decidedly cheating, and that was yuckier to think about than Tori’s weird flirting voice. But, he wasn’t my problem anymore.

  The garlic went in the oven and I set the timer. It was time to restock the desserts.

  * * * * *

  “It was weird, Des,” I said into the phone. “He barely even looked at me when I’d dump things to get washed.”

  “He’s probably hella embarrassed,” she replied. “I would be.”

  “Maybe,” I mumbled, doodling on a notebook. “But then why not just quit? It’s not like he needs the money.”

  “Could be his punishment for almost getting the cops called on him. They could’ve threatened to cut him off if he quit.”

  “I guess, but the thing with Tori was bizarre, too. Though it’s possible he doesn’t like her that way.”

  Destiny giggled. “Never stopped him before. I know Hillary had it out with him for creeping more than once before she went to Stanford.”

  “So, what then? You think that was for my benefit?”

  “He did say he wasn’t giving up, Margie.”

  I rolled over on my bed and sighed. “He said a lot of things. Doesn’t mean I believe any of that, either.”

  “Gonna do anything about it?”

  “Nope. Let’s talk about something else.”

  “Oh, I did hear one thing that’s sort of related to you. You’ll get a kick out of this.”

  “Uh oh.”

  She giggled. “Apparently the Robinsons called up Avery, Lance, and Matt’s parents and had them pick up their drunk ass sons on Saturday. Matt got off pretty light, I think they sent him to the Hamptons to visit his grandmother for a few weeks, but I heard Avery and Lance got put on lockdown until the Fourth of July.”

  I rolled my eyes. “So, confinement to their luxury mansions? Harsh.”

  “For what it’s worth, if it was anyone but you they’d probably have let it go.”

  “Anyone but me?”

  “Yeah,” she said. “After all that talk about lawsuits and stuff after you got hurt back in the day, I think they’re worried about an incident they can’t brush away with money.”

  I sat up, confused. “What do you mean, brush away with money? Did they before?”

  The silence on the other end chilled me.

  “I’m guessing you didn’t hear about that,” she said at last.

  “Hear about what?”

  “Well…”

  “Destiny, what didn’t I hear about?”

  “Look, I only heard rumors, so your parents would know if it was true or not, but I was told those guys’ families gave your family a bunch of cash to keep them from suing the crap out of them for hospital bills and stuff.”

  “Who told you that?”

  “It was like forever ago, Margie, I don’t remember. Everybody knew, though. It wasn’t just me.”

  Pulling the phone away, I rubbed my face with my free hand. That certainly explained the Robinsons’ generosity.

  “Margie?”

  I put the phone back up to my ear. “Yeah?”

  “Are you mad at me? I swear I thought you knew.”

  “I’m not mad at you, Des. But no, I didn’t know. My parents never told me, and I didn’t really think about where they got the money for Dr. Hooper. I knew he was expensive, but I figured that was why they worked so hard and we were still poor. I didn’t talk to anyone here after we left, so I didn’t hear any of the rumors myself.”

  “I’m sorry, Margie.”

  There wasn’t any sense in getting mad at her. It wasn’t like she’d been keeping it secret from me on purpose. “Don’t worry about
it. It’s old news for you. I just can’t believe my parents never told me.”

  “Maybe it’s kinda like how my mom keeps the bills from my dad. Sometimes, it’s easier for everyone if he doesn’t have a clue. I’m sure they thought they were just protecting you, Margie.”

  “You’d think they’d know by now that they can’t protect me from everything.”

  “They did the best they could for you, Mighty Mouse,” she said. “The important thing was that they helped you get better, right?”

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  An uncomfortable silence followed, and I hated that I’d made her feel guilty for telling me about those old rumors. My thoughts tangled up in themselves, trying to decide on a different topic of conversation.

  “Hey, did you decide what show you guys were gonna see in NYC in August?” True to form, Destiny knew exactly what to say to distract me.

  “Eh, I’ve been throwing around a few ideas with Angela, but I think we decided to wait and see what we could get cheap from one of those will-call places. She said there’s one off of Times Square that’s not outrageous and has a good selection.”

  The discomfort evaporated as she told me about the last time she’d been to New York City and the collection of knock-off purses she got while there. While I knew those knockoffs came straight out of sweatshops, the temptation to pick one up was more than I wanted to admit. I made a list of some of Destiny’s suggested things to see and do while there, and gradually the conversation wound down. Eventually I felt like we were back to normal again and hung up. My pillow was calling me and tomorrow was going to be an early start.

  Chapter 15

  Well, at least he’d stopped putting things outside my window.

  That was the best I could do for positive thinking as I stared at the carrot flower, its green onion stem wedged under my windshield wiper. Sighing, I removed the carved blossom. A little paper gift tag fluttered from a piece of twine tied at the top, and I turned it to see if he’d written anything on it.