Summer Darlings

by Brooke Lea Foster

  The children begged to play hide-and-seek, so she and Gigi crouched behind the stone grill while the children counted. “Why the sad face, sugar pie? You got the guy—he loves you.”

  Heddy grimaced. “He most definitely does not. He’s a liar and a cheat.” How could Gigi know Ash’s feelings, and how could Heddy explain what she knew—what he’d done and how it had changed everything between them, even if helping Ruth had endeared him to her.

  The kids hunted for them.

  “I heard you at the party, when you told me he was a con man.” Gigi tilted her head to the side. “So I went to him, out of concern for you, of course, and asked him if there ever was a Coconut Coast. The poor guy drank two shots of Seagram’s Seven before he answered. You broke his heart.”

  Heddy pulled away. “I broke his heart? I suppose you’re forgetting that he’s the one who concocted this whole romance just to get money out of the Williams.”

  Gigi batted her eyelashes. “Gosh, I hate unhappy endings. Let’s think this through.”

  After a long look at Heddy’s unchanging face, Gigi said: “Haven’t you ever made a mistake so big you wanted to crawl into a cave and never come out?”

  The children peeked under the pool loungers.

  “Sure, but I’ve never pretended to be someone else.”

  Gigi arched an eyebrow. “Haven’t you?”

  Heddy remembered Gigi’s party, how she’d loved seeing herself through Ash’s eyes. “That was different. I wasn’t stealing from people.”

  “Think about it this way, sugar pie. What he did is just one thing that happened between you, it’s not the only thing.”

  Heddy ducked lower so the children didn’t see her as they passed, whispering. “What I want to know is: Why are you on his side? He would have stolen from you, too.”

  Gigi swatted at a gnat. “Oh, I don’t know. I suppose I envy the two of you, finding each other like this. And anyone who wants to screw Ted Williams is fine by me.”

  Heddy’s nose twitched. “I’m with you on that one.”

  “Anyway, you need to look at why Ash did what he did. He was stealing, yes, but for a noble reason. Think of it as a character flaw, but not an unforgivable one. In The Cannes Caper, Kirk Douglas had a double identity—two sets of friends, two apartments—but in the interest of true love, my character ran off with him, and they lived happily ever after.”

  “That’s the movies, Gigi.” Heddy sighed. “What if loving me is a con, too?”

  Anna and Teddy spotted them, gaily pulling them out of hiding, and moments later, the housemaid appeared with a tray of cookies and a pitcher of lemonade. Gigi’s “lemonade” was a rather tall Tom Collins.

  Gigi adjusted the high waist of her skirt before sitting down. “God, I wish someone was fighting for me. You know how rare that is? Well, I can tell you. I’ve had men in my life, Cary included, and when things ended, they ended. This man wants you. You can’t buy that.”

  The sun was blaring. Heddy pulled out her grandmother’s handkerchief, dabbing at her neck. “People don’t change, Gigi. They are who they are.” That’s what her mother always told her; disappointing men wouldn’t behave better just because a woman asked.

  Gigi turned Heddy’s cheek so she was looking at her. “That’s ridiculous, little girl. Think of how much you changed, just in a summer. You thought all these fancy pants had everything. Now you can see right through them.” Gigi smacked her lips, shiny with red lipstick, and drank the rest of her cocktail. “Watching you realize that last night. Well, let’s just say you’ve helped me with my next film. Don’t misunderstand me. He was wrong, but don’t give up so easily.” The actress frowned and said something about Anna’s knotty hair. “Heddy, can you run to the bathroom and get me a hairbrush?”

  Heddy had to use the bathroom anyway, so off to the orange-painted powder room she went. Gigi knocked, startling her.

  “Put on the dress, sugar pie. Let’s take a photo.” Hanging from a towel bar, there was a pale-yellow dress, strapless with a sweetheart top.

  “What’s wrong with my outfit?”

  “Don’t be difficult. I like dressing people. And I like happy endings.”

  Heddy reluctantly put on the dress—cool cotton eyelet—while thinking about how she envied Gigi’s ability to change lives like she did clothes. The actress was accustomed to being airlifted out of one role and landing in an entirely different one. If she was stuck in a rut or took on bad habits, she simply changed her ways at the next stop. The downside, of course, is that a life without commitments could be incredibly lonely.

  “Hello?” Heddy stepped out onto the bluestone patio, finding it empty.

  “Heddy?” A man’s voice, a familiar one. Heddy turned to the house, the only sound the swing of the kitchen screen door. She found him near the pool, just as he’d been the night of the party. Ash, handsome in his pressed linen trousers and white collared shirt, sleeves rolled up, and freshly oiled brown saddle shoes.

  Ash pushed his fingers through his tousled hair, looking up at her with that dashing look of his, the one that made people look twice. He walked to her, taking her hands in his. He was red-faced and serious, staring into her like she was a reflecting pool, like if he had a penny he’d make a wish on her.

  “Truth. My name is John Green. I grew up in Montclair. My family had some problems. I went to Northwestern.” He swallowed hard, and she saw his neck then, remembered how it smelled of vanilla aftershave, how smooth his skin. “I stole money from everyone on this island. But then I met a girl. A really rich girl.”

  He took a step closer to her, his voice pleading with her to understand. “But she wasn’t wealthy the way you might think. No, but she had everything. She was beautiful and whip-smart, and true, and she looked at me like I was offering her everything she ever wanted. And I was. I would give this girl everything, if she’d let me.”

  There was music then, Elvis Presley, the song they danced to at Gigi’s party. Someone had put a speaker in the screened window, and Heddy let a smile slip because she hadn’t expected, or even wanted, any of this. But here he was.

  Ash tipped her chin, his finger lingering, then caressing her cheek. “Dance with me?”

  He wrapped his arms around her back, and she pressed against him, burying her face in his chest.

  “There’s so much to say, and I could stand here and try to explain why I did what I did. Bottom line: I screwed up. But Ted, he ruined my family, and he got away with it, so a part of me, every bit of me, wanted to ruin him.”

  When she opened her eyes, he was staring at her. He looked different to her now. It wasn’t just that his tan had turned from golden to burnished; there was age in his face, worry lines on his forehead she’d never noticed. Still, she didn’t know what to say. She searched the greens of his eyes for honesty, for goodness, for signs of authenticity. All she could go on was how he looked back at her, into her, like he was lifting a tiny curtain and letting her see what was inside.

  “You don’t fit with them, kitty kit, with Jean-Rose and Ted and their high-brow friends, and you beat yourself up for it. But you don’t need to fit in with them. Because, well, you fit with me.”

  He kissed her, and she kissed him back, wrapping her arms around his neck. She wished she’d never found that envelope. Don’t fall for this, snapped a voice inside of her. He’s a goddamned thief.

  Her hands still braided around his neck, she raised her eyes to him. “Where will you go after this? I’m still figuring things out. There’s school.” As soon as she’d said it, she realized how obvious it was. Maybe she wasn’t going back to Wellesley, but she’d go back to college somewhere, earn her degree.

  “There’s more money, Heddy—it’s from Ted, but it’s hard to explain why I have it. There’s enough for Wellesley. It will help your mother get an apartment. We can get a house, I’ll get an honest job in Boston.”

  She was surprised to hear that he’d come with her. Did men do that—change their plans to accommod
ate a woman’s dreams? “What do you mean, there’s money?”

  He backed away, holding his hands up like she might shoot. “Now, listen. Don’t get upset, but I’m not giving it all back.”

  She slapped his cheek, feeling ridiculous suddenly in Gigi’s yellow dress. She wasn’t angry that there was money. She was angry that she wanted it, that as soon as he said it she found herself salivating over it. She needed a job. Her mother needed a job. Ruth needed a way out. All these women, all these needs, and Heddy with no way of helping.

  “I’m not going to Brazil.” Ash stood in front of her. “And before you leave and tell me I’m a dirty thief, you need to know that Ted Williams and my father had an affair.” His eyes seemed like bottomless pools, and he winced, his face wrenching. “I’m ashamed to say that out loud, but it’s true. When my father’s company was in the red, he went to Ted for help—they were lovers—and Ted agreed to invest. But on the morning of the deal, Ted told my father he’d give him the money but only if he had full ownership over his company. Things got ugly between them, and in a last-ditch effort to save the deal, my father threatened to ‘out’ Ted to the papers; he admitted as much to my mother, coming clean about the financial trouble, the affair, all of it. The following day police found my father’s parked car. He was slumped over the wheel with a bullet in his head, the gun on the seat.”

  “I’m sorry, but…” Heddy couldn’t follow his story, not entirely. “But why does Ted need anything? He’s got the steel money.”

  Ash pressed his hands into hers. “Sure, but a rich man never has enough. Ted gets some sick pleasure from buying and dismantling other people’s companies, each one adding a notch in his belt. He’s greedy, Heddy, and his business is one big…”

  “Swindle,” she said, bewildered.

  “Yes, it’s terrible but true,” he said, staring into her eyes.

  Heddy’s lips found his then, she could taste him in her mouth, and she kissed him hard to erase all this hurt that she was carrying. She hated Ted, she hated him and his hitting hand, and she hated that he’d hurt this man, the only one she’d ever loved. Because there was no mistaking it: she loved Ash Porter. Her knees buckled with the reality of it. She was about to walk away from him, and why? He was better than Jean-Rose or Ted or any of their crummy friends at the Island Club. He wasn’t seeking fame—or fortune. Not really. And even with all his lies, he was somehow truer than anyone else.

  Her heart swelled, her fingers tingling as he held her hands, and still, they didn’t stop kissing, Ash pushing her against the side of Gigi’s house, traveling his lips down her neck, then back up to her mouth. He pinned her arms up over her head, his breath hot on her face, panting, staring at her.

  She spoke. “Then why the Coconut Coast. Why this elaborate plan?”

  Ash let go of her arms, brushed his fingers along her lips. “I needed a reason to be here, to gain his trust, so I could figure out how to get to him. Edison made it easy. They didn’t exactly hide themselves.”

  Perhaps, it was why he hit Jean-Rose; he hated what he saw when he looked at her.

  “We took photographs of them together, and now I’m…”

  “Blackmailing him.”

  In the distance, a lawnmower started.

  “You’re a quick study.” Ash smiled. He kissed her forehead. “Yes, and I’m not giving him back a cent, so it’s ours. Come to my house tomorrow, six a.m. We’ll get on the first ferry out.”

  “And then?”

  “And then we’ll choose us. We’ll forget about this crazy summer, and only tell our kids the parts that matter: how you showed up on my doorstep one day, how I took you surfing, how you wore a red dress and we spent the night at a movie star’s party. How we fell in love.”

  He kissed her eyelids, and she tried to understand what he was suggesting, what she might agree to. “We’ll be the sum of so many parts. So many summers,” he said.

  Her head was spinning, and she leaned against his pressed shirt, smelling the fabric softener. She wanted to go, and she knew she loved him—she just wasn’t sure she could trust him. Still, she walked him to the side of the house where no one could see, pushing him against the cedar shingles and lying into him with her lips, picking up where they’d left off a few moments ago. He started to unzip her dress, but she moved his hand away from the zipper. They made out some more until they tired, coming to sit in the weedy grass, their backs against the cement foundation of the house.

  They were quiet for a moment until Ash said, “There’s one more thing. I need a favor.”

  Ah, here was the catch.

  “That envelope I brought by a few weeks ago. For Ted. I need you to bring it to me.”

  “But I can’t go in his office,” she said. Her tone made clear this was nonnegotiable.

  “Heddy, I need it.”

  “What’s inside?” she asked.

  He sighed. “It’s better if you don’t know the particulars.”

  She inhaled sharply. Is this what it was to love a thief? One minute you’re imagining a life of truth and beauty, and in the next, you’re drawn into his criminal world as an accomplice.

  “Just trust me. He’ll get away with everything—I’ll go to jail for extortion if I don’t get it back.”

  She crossed her arms. “I’m not doing this unless you tell me what I’m taking.”

  Ash dropped his head between his knees. “Okay, there are photographs—of Ted with other people, doing things. You don’t want to know, honestly. Those are the originals, and my partner, well, he lost the negatives. They’re the only pictures we have.”

  A dog ran down the dunes from Ash’s yard, sniffing at the bushes and peeing, then running away. Barkley? she wondered. But he had no reason to walk this beach.

  “Look, kitty kit, I need you.” Ash put his arm around her back. “If I don’t get these photos, I have nothing over him.”

  “I wouldn’t even know where to look.” Even as she said it, though, she knew she’d do it. She was out of options, desperate and headstrong all at once, and maybe Jean-Rose was right: The rest of one’s life could come down to a single moment, and this was hers. Would she accept defeat, not return to Wellesley, get a job in Brooklyn, and let a bad man go free? Or would she punish the man who deserved punishing—Ted was the real thief, the real liar—and help herself and help Ash, the man she was in love with?

  “Does he have a safe?” Ash scooted to face her, willing her to think, but her mind wandered. As soon as Jean-Rose went to the club, she could go through Ted’s desk. Maybe she’d pretend the kids wanted to play “Daddy’s office,” and they’d all go in and answer the phone and scribble on paper while she hunted for the envelope. It wouldn’t incriminate her, not exactly, and she could play dumb. No, that wouldn’t work. She’d have to sneak in.

  “I’ll try,” she said. Even as she said it, she wondered: If she didn’t do it, would he still want her?

  He let go of her hand and grinned, lifting her chin with his fist. “I love you, Hibernia Winsome.” His lips pressed into hers once more, and she heard a round of applause in her head. He’d said it. He’d actually said it.

  Even if he was a thief, she would love him because he loved her. More than that, she loved him because they would keep each other’s secrets. Because they had secrets that bound them.

  “I love you, too,” she said. Her eyes lingered on him, her thoughts fast-forwarding to them walking off the ferry boat onto the mainland, the two of them hand in hand, a suitcase of money between them. How she’d stand on tiptoe to kiss him—and he’d retreat, an evil look overtaking his face. How he’d leave her standing penniless and alone.

  He could be lying about loving her. He could be lying about helping her. She wouldn’t be fooled twice.

  Heddy returned to Gigi’s patio, Ash following her with a bewildered look, and after grabbing her handbag, she shoved it at him. “I’ll do it. But you need to put five thousand dollars in this purse. When I give you the envelope tomorrow morning,
you give me the cash.” She hoped he didn’t hear her voice, the way it was trembling.

  Ash wasn’t sure she was serious. “I should keep the money in my suitcase on the ferry—so we don’t get caught—and I’ll give it to you when we dock. Don’t you trust me?”

  It was her turn to cup his cheek in her palm. “I love you, I do, but if I’m going to risk everything, I want a guarantee that I’m going back to school, that my mother can get an apartment, that Ruth will have help. Like you said, money makes us act in unexpected ways.”

  She stared at him until he blinked.

  “I like this Heddy.” he smiled. “Okay, deal.”

  Her job, fetching this envelope, was critical, and he wouldn’t leave with the money now, he couldn’t, unless he waited for her. Even if Ash tried to slip away to the mainland, she’d have her purse full of cash. Heartbroken, but well taken care of.

  “Five thousand,” she said.

  He traveled his finger up her side, moving along her bosom and up her neck. “Five thousand,” he repeated.

  When he was gone, Karina came out of the house with a silver tray: “The children are watching television inside.” She handed Heddy a simple square of paper.

  Call me collect anytime. 213-555-3234. xoxo Gigi

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  The kids were hard to settle down that evening, the tension of grown-ups always trickling down to the children. Around nine, once Ruth was reading in the attic bedroom, not long after Jean-Rose and Ted left for poker at the Club, Heddy crept into Teddy’s bedroom to kiss him goodbye.

  Jean-Rose hadn’t taken Miss Pinkie away yet, and he snuggled with her under his spaceship blanket. With his lips half-parted in sound sleep, she watched the rise and fall of his chest and wondered how he’d do in life, if he’d be okay. Would he end up like Sullivan, trapped in someone else’s dreams?