Forever Summer (Book # 7 The Summer Series)

by C.J Duggan

  “When’s Miranda moving down?” I asked mid-turn.

  Ringer paused, misjudging the movement, and brought me back in too fast, slamming me against his chest so hard it knocked the wind out of us. The question had obviously distracted his coordination, that was for sure, as I winced in pain.

  Luckily the song choice changed into something slower and we decided to be less adventurous with our dance moves and settled on the tradition of the slow dance. It also gave me a moment to recognise the change in Ringer’s demeanour, as he cleared his throat and looked down at our two left feet.

  “Ah, she’s, um, she’s not.”

  “What? Why?” I asked, genuinely horrified.

  Ringer shrugged. “We had a fight, it’s over,” he said, spinning me slowly and bringing me back into the slow dance, this time with greater care.

  I shook my head. “It can’t be over, you two are great together.”

  But when Ringer didn’t look at me, instead his shrug was smaller, his expression grimmer, I knew my friendship wasn’t wholly exclusive to Tess and Adam. I grabbed him by the hand and motioned him off the dance floor. “Come on, I can’t hear myself think,” I said, dragging him out to the deck, leading him to the farthest railing that overlooked the expansive lake that looked vast and black in the night, reflecting only the moon and the party lights from the main house.

  “Spill,” I said, folding my arms and casting him a poignant look.

  “There’s nothing to tell, honestly,” he said, leaning on the railing and staring out over the dark mass of water.

  “I call bullshit; what was the fight over?”

  Ringer frowned at me. “You know, you can be real bloody nosey when you want to be.”

  “Guilty; now spill.”

  Ringer sighed, knowing that there was no way of escaping my interrogation, so he settled in for the long haul.

  “We’re completely different,” he began, and by the time he had explained all the trivial, nitpicking details over the ludicrous reasoning of their fight, I sat opposite him simply smiling like a fool.

  “What’s so funny?” Ringer said, straightening from the railing.

  “Do you love her?”

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Ellie.” Ringer shifted, looking back out over the lake, almost embarrassed by the question.

  “It’s a simple question, Ringo: do you love her?”

  I didn’t think he was going to answer me. I mean, it’s not like Ringer and the Onslow Boys were well versed in talking about their feelings. So when I went to repeat the question, Ringer snapped.

  “Of course I fucking love her. I love her so fucking much I feel that I can’t breathe without her.”

  I smiled, lifting my chin up in triumph. “Then based on all you have told me, and that fight you had,” I shook my head, “that ain’t enough to jeopardise either her or your happiness. You love her, and I know she loves you.”

  Ringer was looking at me, intense in his scepticism. “You think?”

  “Absolutely. Now forget dicking around on the dance floor and go and ring your woman.” I shoved him playfully in the chest.

  Ringer smiled. “But I like dicking around on the dance floor.”

  “GO!” I said, pointing.

  Ringer pushed off the railing, straightening the thin black tie over his white shirt, suited up in a rare occasion, looking very dapper indeed. When he smiled that wolfish smile of his, I thought Miranda insane if she didn’t want a man like this; despite all his caveman-like tendencies Ringer was nothing but loyal and even tender when the mood took him, like now as he stepped closer to me, to kiss me on my cheek.

  “You’re one in a million, Ellie Parker,” he whispered in my ear before breaking away and walking backwards with a huge smile. “Which means there’s only four more left in New South Wales.” He winked, before spinning around and retrieving his mobile from his pocket.

  I couldn’t help but feel completely validated as a human being that I had managed to use my powers of friendship for good and not evil. I could do it and I would continue to do it; the buzz I felt in that very moment was enough to carry me through for the rest of my days, I was certain of it. Until of course I turned around and locked eyes with Adam. He was watching on from across the deck, his expression grim, his eyes ablaze as they flicked from me to where Ringer had disappeared.

  Oh God, what must we have looked like?

  Adam slowly weaved his way toward me, beer in hand, a serious intent as he came to stand by my side. He looked out over the water, taking a deep swig of draught before breaking the tension by speaking.

  “I’m not taking the boat back tonight,” he said.

  “Oh, okay.”

  “Yeah, I am a bit boozed,” he said, studying the label of his beer. “The buses are going to do a couple of trips back into town so everyone can get a lift back that way.”

  “Right,” I said, trying not to sound too disappointed by the change of plans.

  Our exchange was so wooden, so painful. What had happened to us? I would have given anything for Adam to take my hand and drag me onto the dance floor, but the way he was looking at me, I knew that was not going to happen. There was something much deeper going on, something I knew nothing about, and there was an underlying anger in me that wanted to scream at him, ask him what his problem was, what he was keeping from me. But I knew better. Now was not the moment, this was Tess’s night, this was not about us. As close as he had come to telling me, I’m glad he didn’t, now I had to be that friend to Tess. As much as I wanted to press him further I knew I had to do the only thing I could do, no matter how hard it was. I walked away.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Ha! Fancy that. I didn’t wipe myself out.

  Instead, I mingled, and laughed and canoodled and was a responsible, mature adult. Well, almost. Every time I came into proximity of Megsy Swanston I did a complete about-face and went hightailing it in the opposite direction. Avoiding her at all costs, I dived for the nearest available door, thanking the gods that it was open as I quickly ushered myself inside, closing it ajar behind me.

  I hovered near the door, pressing my eye to the tiniest crack, spying, waiting for the coast to be clear.

  “Who are we hiding from?” The unexpected deep voice made me jump, slamming my back against the door, shutting it with a loud thud.

  It was only when I took in the full weight of Sean’s stare behind his desk that I even realised I was in Sean’s office.

  “Jesus, Sean, don’t do that!”

  Sean chuckled. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you while you were loitering in my office.”

  “Sorry, I was just, um, looking for, umm ...” I stumbled for an explanation.

  “Meh, mi casa es su casa, or whatever the saying is: sit, wait it out until whoever you’re avoiding is … wait, who are you avoiding again?”

  I sighed, not needing to be asked twice as I threw myself in the lush leather chair opposite Sean, tucking my legs up to my chest.

  “Megsy Swanston,” I confessed.

  “Ah, yes, big nasty Megsy.” Sean smiled to himself as he wrote inside what looked like a card.

  “Looks can be deceiving,” I deadpanned.

  Sean paused mid-scrawl as if he was thinking deeply of what to write next before continuing.

  “What are you doing? Shouldn’t you be schmoozing with the beautiful people?”

  “Well, wouldn’t you know, amidst all the deck oiling, light hanging, beer stocking, Amy alerts me to the fact I forgot to write in their engagement card.”

  A coldness swept over me. “Oh shit.”

  I clearly was the worst friend you could ever be unfortunate enough to have. How could I have forgotten?

  Sean’s eyes settled on me. “Relax, it’s just a wishing well; chuck some money in an envelope and you’re good to go. I have some here if you need one.”

  “What kind of friend forgets that sort of thing?”

  Sean flicked out his wallet, thumbed a series of notes—to
the naked eye he counted out a thousand dollars—and slid it into the card.

  “Whoa, remind me to invite you to my engagement party,” I said, as usual before thinking.

  Sean laughed. “I suppose you want me to throw the party for you as well?”

  “Well, it’s a great party, I think you and Amy’s calling has been missed in life. You two should be event managers, seriously.”

  “I think there would be a murder if that came to fruition.” Sean laughed, sealing the card and placing it in the inside of his suit pocket.

  “Do you want me to check if the coast is clear?”

  “Yes, please!” I said, moving from my comfy position on the chair to follow him to the door and hiding behind his huge frame, which wasn’t hard to do considering Sean was six feet three; I couldn’t even see over his shoulder on my tippy-toes. He pressed his fingers to his lips, motioning me to be quiet before he stuck his head out the door, looking left and looking right.

  “Yep, the coast is clear,” he whispered, tilting his head for me to follow out into the hall. I sighed. “Thank you.”

  What a saint Sean Murphy was. He epitomised the meaning of what a true friend should be. I could learn a lot from someone as thoughtful as Sean, I thought to myself, right before I slammed right into Megsy in the hall.

  My mouth was agape as I looked at Sean who simply winked and gave me the thumbs up behind Megsy’s back as he backed away, leaving me in the hall with her.

  I take back everything I ever said about Sean Murphy. I was going to murder him.

  “Heeeeeey, Ellie, I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

  I don’t know what hit me first: the alcohol fumes or the shock of why she would be looking for me. It seemed someone had had way too much to drink, and for once that someone wasn’t me.

  “Look, I’m gonna go, but I just wanted to find you and say, you know what … fuck you, Ellie Parker. Fuck. You.”

  Whoooooa.

  Megsy giggled, swaying as she poked me in the chest as if she was telling a hilarious joke.

  “Umm, okay, Megsy, great chatting with you, you have a great night,”

  I said, moving to pass her.

  “Oh, I will, don’t you worry about that, Miss perfect, pretty Parker. Fuck off.”

  I sighed, wondering if this night would ever end, when I turned the corner and ran straight into Adam.

  “Whoa, where’s the fire?” he said, stilling me by my shoulders.

  “Back in the hallway; I suggest you put it out and take it home.”

  Adam’s eyes shifted over my shoulder. “Megsy?”

  “Ah, yeah, and let me tell you, the sweet little organic farmer’s daughter has quite the potty mouth on her.”

  Adam folded his arms and leant against the wall, smiling. “It’s actually one of the things I like most about her.”

  “She told me to fuck off.”

  Adam’s humour remained, but he did seem a bit taken aback. “Well, that’s not cool.”

  “No, no, it isn’t,” I said, trying to keep a straight face, make out that I was mad even though looking at Adam’s reaction only made me want to laugh. I was glad to see he was light and normal again with me.

  “Look, just bloody deal with her, dump her body out at sea, make it look like an accident, I don’t care.”

  “Yeah, I think I’ll just get her on the early bus.”

  “Good.” I nodded.

  Adam pushed off the wall, skimming past me to go and survey the damage, before he turned. “Hey, Ellie.” He stilled, pulling out a white envelope from his back pocket. “Can you do me a favour and put this in the wishing well for me?”

  Oh, great, even Adam the unreliable had managed to get an engagement card. I really was a massive flake.

  “Sure,” I said, taking the envelope.

  Adam nodded, before turning the corner and into the great unknown.

  ***

  The wishing well was the elaborate centrepiece to the photo table. A table aligned with a giant canvas of photos constructed of Tess and Toby, ranging from birth, school, the awkward adolescent stage all the way through to being together. Toby’s journey started on the left and Tess’s began on the right, coming together in a series of photos until they met in the middle. It was really lovely. There were a stack of photos of Toby with his mates, camping, fishing, water skiing, the Onslow Boys in all their glory, and there were dozens of photos of me, Tess and Adam, on camp, at the movies, at the lake, at a party. We were so young and every image brought back an old memory until my eyes drifted to the middle, where there was a group photo from our New Year’s road trip to Point Shank. There we were, all posing for the camera, all the girls sitting on a log, with all the boys standing behind. Stan behind Bel doing the rabbit ears. Sean behind Amy with her in a loving headlock. Toby with his hands on Tess’s shoulders, Chris with Ringer in a wrestle behind a very worried-looking Tammy, and then me sitting on the end, on Adam’s lap, my arms linked around his neck, my mouth frozen in an elated open-mouth pose. I remember it because the camera was on a timer, the poses so spur of the moment. I remember Adam grabbing me and pulling me onto his lap, his bony fingers delving into my rib cage deliberately making me squirm and laugh so come the time the photo clicked I had the most ridiculous look on my face, one that he was copying with mock horror. I laughed, shaking my head: such a smart arse.

  “It turned out great, didn’t it?”

  I turned to see Amy standing next to me, admiring the wall of photos. She looked amazingly calm and serene considering she helped pull off the surprise party of the century. Amy was not known for her cool, calm, collected manner. I had had enough dealings with Adam’s younger cousin working at the Onslow Hotel to know how she operated. But ever since her and Sean became an item, Amy seemed to mature overnight.

  “It’s fantastic, did you do all this?” I asked, looking back at the photo wall in awe.

  “Meh, I had a bit of help; oh, okay, a lot of help, actually.” She smiled.

  “Well, it’s amazing!”

  “Thanks. Oooh, what do we have here?”

  Amy’s attention snapped to the envelope I was holding. “Oh, Adam’s card, he wanted me to put it in the wishing well for him.”

  “Oh, cool, let me see.”

  Amy snatched it from my hands. “I love seeing what boys write in cards, they are either complete cavemen or really mushy.”

  “Umm, and probably kind of private, I’m guessing,” I said, feeling rather uncomfortable.

  “My theory is, if the envelope is sealed, then private; if tucked in, fair game. Oooh, nice one, Adam, two hundred bucks, not a tight arse.”

  So much for recent thoughts on her maturity, I thought, as I watched Amy opening the card with her midnight-blue painted nails.

  “Ugh, boring, though. To Toby and Tess, wishing you all the happiness on this day and always, lots of love Adam and Ellie.”

  I froze. For a long, confused moment.

  Without even thinking I snatched the card from Amy’s hands; was she joking? After all, she was Sean Murphy’s girlfriend, I wouldn’t put it past her. But as my eyes ticked over the card, there it was, loud and clear in Adam’s printed, boyish handwriting.

  ‘Adam and Ellie’

  I could feel the tears well in my eyes, as I read it over and over again.

  “Ellie, you okay?”

  I nodded, sniffing and smiling, taking the card and money and shoving it back into the envelope. “I’m fine,” I said, licking the envelope and sealing it properly before placing it into the wishing well.

  “You sure?” Amy looked at me as if she wasn’t quite buying it.

  I looked up at the board, of the group photo, zoning in on Adam and me.

  “I’m perfect.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Meh, catch the bus? I don’t think so; you see, I had connections, I knew people. And the trip back travelling in the back of Tess’s parents’ car with Tess and Toby was far less traumatic than what the trip back would h
ave been with a drunken horde of people.

  The ride was very chilled, the radio playing Carole King softly as we travelled in silence; it was so relaxing Toby nodded off. Tess elbowed me to point out the fact. Poor fella, he must be exhausted having helped pull off the biggest kept secret; wait a minute, come to think about it, I was pretty sure that as far as secrets went mine was a pretty well kept one, one that was about to be shared with Tess. Well, perhaps not with her parents in the front seat, but soon, real soon.

  “What are you doing tomorrow? Do you want to do brunch before I head back?”

  “Brunch? That’s very ambitious of you, I thought you would be sleeping in for sure,” Tess mused.

  “Well, I won’t be sporting a chronic hangover so I am very optimistic.”

  “Oh, yeah. I didn’t see you drink much, did you have a good night?” Tess winced, as if me not drinking was something to worry about.

  “Actually, I had a great night. I see things with a new clarity.”

  “Oh, really?”

  “Yep! You and Toby are the sweetest, most lovely couple who ever existed.”

  “Aww,” Tess pouted.

  “Ringer has a heart, Sean is a smart arse, Amy is a snoop, Megsy is a psycho and …”

  “Adam?”

  “Adam is Adam.” I shrugged; I didn’t want to go there, not until our brunch tomorrow.

  “Well, I could have told you all that.” Tess laughed. “Especially that part about me and Toby.”

  “What about how incredibly modest you are?”

  “Yeah, that too.”

  We giggled in the back seat like the days of old, the days when either Tess or my parents would pick us up from a blue light disco and we would gossip all the way home.

  It was well after midnight by the time the McGees’ Volvo circled wide and directly in front of the Onslow Hotel steps, the illuminated Carlton Draught sign the only sign of life in all its illuminated, bug-infested wonder.