“She isn’t a really friendly person,” Summer agreed cautiously. “But that’s okay.”
“Yeah, not a real friendly person,” Marquez said, and laughed. “She used to at least hang out, and she was going out with Adam Merrick. She was going with him, and he goes everywhere so she was being more social. Then, boom. Like maybe last July she suddenly dumps Adam cold. He’s totally great looking, also totally rich and nice and not stuck-up, and she dumps him.”
Summer digested this information. Whatever Diana was lacking in terms of friendliness, Marquez certainly made up for. The girl talked a mile a minute and had barely paused to breathe.
“So ever since she broke up with Adam, it’s been bye-bye Diana. She showed up at school, and that’s it. We’re all thinking it’s like some R. L. Stine book or something, like she’s turned into a teen vampire, you know?”
“I’ve seen her in the sunlight, and she hasn’t burst into flames or anything,” Summer said.
Marquez laughed appreciatively, an infectious sound that brought answering laughter from Summer. “You are definitely all right, girl. I like you. Come on and I’ll do something really mean to you. I’ll get you a job at the C ’n’ C.”
8
Marquez’s Rules and Diana’s Dolphins
Marquez waited outside the restaurant on the wharf and kicked back, leaning against a rough wood piling, legs stretched out in front of her. She looked down at them critically. They weren’t pudgy, exactly, but they weren’t as hard and lean and muscular as she’d have liked. And her behind, well, that didn’t even bear thinking about.
“Stay off the conch fritters, Marquez,” she ordered herself sternly. She wasn’t going to get fat like her mother. That was fine for her mother, but Marquez had plans for the future. Finish high school, then college, then law school, then get a job as an associate at some big Washington or New York law firm and make partner. She needed to be in shape. She needed to look good in one of those boring skirt suits that lawyers wore. She needed to be able to go to the health club and play squash or racquetball with the partners.
And in the meantime, it didn’t hurt to look good for guys.
The door of the restaurant opened, and the new girl, Summer, came out. She looked a little dazed, blinking like an owl in the sunlight. But she was carrying a menu, an employee manual, and a plastic-wrapped uniform. Big surprise. The C ’n’ C was always looking for fresh meat. Mostly because people kept quitting. She would quit herself except that certain people still worked there. Certain people she should just forget about.
Forget it, Marquez, set it aside. He was forgotten. He was history. He was something she had scraped off the bottom of her shoes.
“Hey, you got the job, huh?” she asked.
Summer squinted and located Marquez. “Yeah, I did get it. Only…” She looked back over her shoulder at the restaurant door and lowered her voice. “Only, I don’t know how to do anything.”
Marquez laughed. “Nothing to it. I’ll have the head waitress put you with me for the first couple days. I’ll show you what to do.”
“Thanks,” Summer said. “That would be really, really nice of you. Thanks for recommending me for this job.”
“Wait till you see what you look like in that uniform, then you can thank me, if you still want to,” Marquez said. “Not to mention the fact that it’s very hard work.”
“The manager said it was like a big family.”
“Yeah. The Manson family. Or the Menendez family. Or maybe the Addams family. So, now what?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, hey, it’s not even noon, what have you got planned for the day?”
Summer shrugged. “I guess I thought I’d just look around.”
“Yeah? You got anything on for tonight?”
“I don’t think so.”
“How about you go to this party with me?”
“What party?”
“Adam Merrick’s having a party. He has them all the time, over on his daddy’s estate.”
Summer felt a rush of excitement, chased immediately by a wave of nervousness and uncertainty. Right. Like she should be going to parties at some billionaire’s house. “I better not,” she said. “I mean, he doesn’t even know me or anything. I couldn’t just show up.”
“Where are you from, Summer?”
“Um, Bloomington, Minnesota. It’s the home of the Mall of America, the biggest mall in the world.” Stop saying things like that! Summer ordered herself. No one cares about the mall!
“Oh, I see. And people up in Bloomyburg are probably real polite and all, right? But see, this is Crab Claw Key. The rules are all different here. Mostly the rule is that there aren’t any rules. You wear what you want. You go where you want. You say what you want. You be what you want. Nobody here is going to care if you’re white or black or gay or straight or whatever religion you are or where you come from, all that stuff. As long as you’re cool and don’t hassle people and don’t be all judgmental, everyone’s equal.”
Summer nodded. “Okay. I understand, but still—”
Marquez waved her hand dismissively. “And the only other rule is—when there’s a party, everybody is invited.”
“Okay. I get it. Okay.” Summer sucked in a deep breath of hot, wet air. She was going to go for it. What good was summer vacation if you didn’t take some chances? “But what should I wear?”
“Here’s our old friend, Jerry. Would you like to touch him today? He’s very nice, you know.” Diana held the child safely in her arms, just letting the little girl’s feet dangle in the water of the pool. The water came only a little higher than Diana’s waist and was almost as warm as a bath.
Jerry floated patiently alongside, knowing his role, breathing softly through his blowhole.
The child, whose name was Lanessa, pointed wordlessly at the blowhole.
“Yes, that’s pretty neat, isn’t it?” Diana said. “That’s how he breathes.”
Jerry rolled partially in the water so he could see the little girl more clearly.
“He’s smiling,” Lanessa said.
“He sure is,” Diana agreed. “Jerry likes to smile. You know why? Because Jerry is a very nice dolphin. He especially likes little girls just like you.”
Lanessa nodded solemnly, still uncertain. Then she stuck out her hand, fingers splayed, not quite able to reach. But Jerry drifted closer, bringing his gray snout into contact, accepting the little girl’s clumsy patting.
Lanessa patted the dolphin’s head for several seconds, then pulled away again. No smile had formed on her lips, but for a few seconds there had been that light in her eyes, the light Diana had seen many times before, when child met dolphin.
“All done?” Diana asked. “You want to say bye-bye to Jerry?”
Lanessa opened and closed her hand, a silent good-bye.
“We’ll come see Jerry again soon if you’d like. Do you think that would be fun?”
Lanessa had no answer. The light was gone for now.
“That’s okay, Lanessa, you don’t have to answer,” Diana said softly. She slowly carried the child back to the side of the pool. Two other volunteers were working farther away with two other abused children like Lanessa, showing them there were still safe places in the world.
The Dolphin Interactive Therapy Institute brought children who had lost the capacity to trust together with dolphins. A silly-sounding idea that worked just the same. There was something in the basic gentleness of the big, powerful animals that seemed to calm fears and lure children out of their shells.
Diana helped the little girl get changed and brought her back to the nursery. “Lanessa and Jerry had a good time today,” Diana told Dr. Lane, one of the therapists. “She patted Jerry right on his head, didn’t you, Lanessa?”
“Well, Jerry is a very special dolphin,” Dr. Lane agreed in the deliberately calm, soothing voice they all used for the children.
Diana gave the little girl a kiss on her forehead and said goo
d-bye.
There was a report to be filled out, a complete report detailing precisely how Lanessa had reacted, what she had said (not much), whether she had become agitated (no), whether she had exhibited any signs of panic (also no). Diana did this on a computer in a small cubicle of an office that was shared by all the volunteers.
Then she wrapped a sarong skirt around her barely damp bathing suit and went out to the parking lot, feeling the strange mixture of elation and weariness followed by slow, spreading melancholy she usually felt on leaving the institute.
The institute was on Cannonball Key, twenty miles up the highway from Crab Claw Key. Diana traveled south, heading home, driving her own car, a blue year-old Jetta. Somehow driving her mother’s Mercedes to the institute, where even the professional counselors drove ten-year-old Volvos and minivans, would have seemed too showy.
The sun was still high in the sky, barely weakening in the long summer day. A bank of storm clouds was building up in the east, towering as high as a chain of mountains. Far-off flashes of lightning struck the water again and again.
What was she going to do about Summer? Diana asked herself. Presumably the girl would still be there when Diana got home.
Unacceptable. Diana didn’t want Summer in her life. She didn’t need a live-in friend. Diana preferred her privacy. There was nothing wrong with liking to be alone. Just because Mallory couldn’t stand quiet, just because Mallory couldn’t handle being by herself and had to rush off at every opportunity to meet her fans didn’t mean Diana was some kind of freak for liking privacy.
But Mallory hadn’t been willing to accept that. She’d imported friendly cousin Summer to replace all the friends Diana had blown off.
“Not that it’s Summer’s fault,” Diana admitted to herself. Summer was all right. It wasn’t that.
She got off the highway at the Crab Claw Key exit and drove to the house. Inside, the house was quiet and almost chilly from the air conditioning. The housekeeper had gone home at five, as usual.
Diana parked in the garage and took the kitchen stairs up to her room. At the top of the stairs she froze. Someone was in her room, humming abstractly and pausing occasionally to say, “Ooh, that’s beautiful.”
Diana took several deep breaths and entered the room. “Excuse me, but what are you doing here?”
Summer jumped and slapped a hand over her heart. “Jeez, you scared me.”
“Sorry,” Diana said, dripping sarcasm. “I didn’t mean to scare you as you went snooping through my closet.”
Summer flushed. “I wasn’t snooping.” She rehung the dress she’d been admiring. “I was just wondering something.”
“Like what?” Diana tossed her purse on her bed and kicked off her sandals.
“I’m supposed to go to this party tonight, and I didn’t know what I should wear, so I was looking through your closet to see…you know…” Her voice petered out. “Sorry, I should have asked first.”
“You wanted to borrow something to wear?”
“Oh, no, no,” Summer said. “No way I’d just borrow something. I just wanted to see if I could figure out what people wear here.” She looked embarrassed. The pink flush in her face had become a full-fledged blush.
Diana sighed. “Summer, it doesn’t matter what you wear around here. Wear whatever you like.”
“That’s what she told me too.”
“Who?”
“Marquez. Maria Marquez. She says she knows you.”
“How on earth did you hook up with Marquez?”
“I met her. She kind of got me a job at the Crab ’n’ Conch,” Summer said.
Diana’s lip curled. “The Cramp and Croak? Good luck.”
Summer made a face. “Thanks.”
“So what’s this about a party?” Diana asked. Amazing. Summer had been here a day and she had a job, a friend, and an invitation to a party. Getting rid of her had just risen to a new level of difficulty.
“It’s at the Merrick estate, this guy named Adam. Oh, wait, you used to go out with him, didn’t you?”
Diana nodded slowly. Yes, she had gone out with Adam Merrick.
“Why don’t you come too?” Summer said brightly. “Marquez said everyone’s invited. I mean, unless you and Adam hate each other or something.”
Diana smiled in a way she hoped didn’t show too much bitterness. Summer had come very close to the truth. Hate—or something. “No, we don’t hate each other,” Diana said, working to keep her voice level. “Why would I hate Adam?”
For a brief moment Summer’s intelligent, innocent eyes seemed to see past Diana’s defenses, seemed to see something hidden just below the surface. Diana looked away, and Summer covered the moment with a laugh.
“I guess I thought when people broke up they couldn’t stand to be around each other,” Summer said.
“No. Not always,” Diana said.
“I could stay home tonight if you wanted to do anything,” Summer offered.
“No, no, go to the party. You’ll have a good time.” Diana felt agitated now, like she needed to escape the room. Get away. “You know, if you want to borrow anything, go right ahead. I have to, uh, I have to take a shower. I spent the whole day shopping.”
Diana turned away, fighting the urge to run.
“Diana?”
“What?”
“Are you all right?”
“Just have to go to the bathroom. Is that okay with you?” she snapped suddenly.
“Sure.”
“Good.” Diana pushed past Summer into her bathroom and closed the door behind her. As an afterthought she turned the lock. Then she turned on the shower and let the water run as hot as she could stand.
She slipped out of her skirt and pulled off the bathing suit underneath and climbed under the stingingly hot spray.
The strength went out of her. She sank to the floor of the shower and sat there, knees drawn up to her chest as the water pounded on her head.
The memories appeared, as she had known they would. Memories of fear and disgust, feelings that made her squirm as if trying to crawl away from her own skin.
Just like that night, when she had come home shaken to her core and sat, just this way, in this very shower, scrubbing herself till she was raw.
9
Frank Has His Say, and Marquez Has a Very Bad Idea.
Summer left the main house and crossed the sloping lawn to the water’s edge. She walked along feeling thoughtful, enjoying the lush grass under her bare feet, wondering about Diana, about the way she had seemed almost panicked.
The little stilt house didn’t exactly look like home. Far from it. And yet Summer had a vague, almost affectionate feeling about the place. Not that she had forgotten the sagging bed or the pervasive smell of mildew, but already, after only one day, it felt as if it were hers somehow.
“Aren’t I lucky?” she said sardonically.
She crossed the walkway and stopped to slip on the sandals she’d been carrying, stepping over the little piles of bird poop. The pelican—the same pelican, she would have sworn—was sitting on the same corner of the railing, looking her over, its absurdly long beak tucked smugly down.
Summer opened the door and was surprised by the smell. Not the mildew, that was still there, but something new had been added. Fish? Yes, fish.
Fish that was frying in a cast iron skillet on her stove. The bathroom door opened, and out stepped Diver.
He’s real! Summer realized in surprise. She’d pretty well convinced herself that Diver was a part of her strange dream the night before. But here he was, still wearing nothing but madras print trunks. Dry, this time. And his hair was dry as well, the ends just touching his broad, deeply tanned shoulders.
“Hey,” he said. “You want some fish? I have plenty. He was a big one, so we’d better be eating grouper for the next couple of days.”
“What are you doing here?” Summer squealed.
Diver looked nonplussed. “Cooking fish.”
“Excuse me, but di
dn’t I explain to you that I live here now?”
“I talked to Frank about it. He thinks we should just figure out a way to get along, you know?” Diver used a spatula to turn over first one, then another slab of fish.
“I don’t care what Frank said,” Summer insisted. “I don’t even know any Frank. Who’s Frank?”
“Frank. He’s outside. This was his place before either of us ever showed up.”
“Frank is outside? Where?”
“Out on the railing where he always is,” Diver said calmly. “I didn’t have anything to make a batter, so I’m just cooking this with some butter. I like it better batter fried, but fresh grouper’s good no matter how you cook it. And this boy is fresh. I speared it like an hour ago.”
Summer crossed the room to the window and looked outside. She could see most of the railing on that side of the house. The only thing out there was the pelican. Oh. No, that would be crazy, even for someone like Diver.
“Excuse me, but Frank isn’t, like, a bird, is he?”
“A brown pelican,” Diver confirmed.
Summer took a deep breath. “You’re crazy, aren’t you? I mean, no offense, I should probably say…sanity challenged or whatever.”
Diver looked at her severely. He was holding a spatula and was, Summer had to admit, the best-looking male she’d ever seen in real life. Insane, but devastating.
“I’m crazy?” Diver said, as if the idiocy of that statement was self-evident. “Frank’s been here since he was hatched, I’ve been crashing here for like six months, you just show up from Minnesota and tell me to go take a jump, and I’m the crazy one? How do you figure that?”
The answer was obvious, Summer knew, only she couldn’t think how to express it. “Because my aunt owns this place,” she said lamely.
Diver sneered derisively. “Yeah, right. Maybe you should go tell Frank that. Maybe he’ll care.”
Beach Blondes: June Dreams / July's Promise / August Magic Page 5