J.T. waved. “Hey, Marquez, where you goin’ with Geraldo?”
Marquez hit the gas, ignoring him.
After a few blocks, Diver asked, “You all right?”
“I’m fine,” she said. Her body felt tight with compressed energy. Maybe she’d go for a run later, a long one.
“It’ll get easier.”
“Look, it’s over with me and J.T., okay? I don’t really want to talk about it.”
Diver played with Geraldo’s eye. “Okay. I know how that goes.”
Marquez cranked up the radio. Green Day, nice and loud. She drove as fast as she figured she could get away with. The backseat was piled so high with stuff that she couldn’t see out the rearview mirror, but that was okay by her.
She wasn’t planning on looking back, anyway.
12
Diamonds Are Not Always a Girl’s Best Friend.
“You know, I’m starting to sense what this apartment needs,” Diana said as she dug a camera out of a cardboard box. “I think it’s called furniture.”
“We have a mildewy couch left by the previous tenants,” Summer pointed out. “Plus a mildewy chair and a mildewy table. And the landlady said she’s got plenty of mildewy mattresses in the storage shed.”
Diana aimed the camera at Summer. “You’re right. It’s not like we don’t have a decorating motif. Mildew goes with everything. By the way, smile. I’m breaking in my new camera and recording our move-in for posterity.”
Summer stuck out her tongue, and Diana clicked the camera.
Marquez and Diana had been right about one thing, Summer thought: It was a quaint apartment. Despite the sloping roof, the place was surprisingly big. It featured one large bedroom flanked by a bathroom, with a smaller bedroom on the other side. The kitchen, which was really just an extension of the living room, was even more dated than the one in the stilt house. But the polished pine floors gleamed, and the arched windows let in plenty of light, even affording a view of the ocean.
If it weren’t for the little Austin problem, it would have been just about perfect.
“Knock, knock, male coming, everyone decent?” Marquez called from the stairway.
Summer busied herself dragging a suitcase into one of the bedrooms. She wished Marquez could have at least let them get settled in before bringing Diver over. But sooner or later, Summer knew, she was going to have to get used to seeing him.
She took a deep breath and headed back into the living room. Diver was holding a box of silverware and a big stuffed elephant. He met Summer’s eyes reluctantly.
“Smile,” Diana commanded, turning her camera on Diver, but he didn’t react.
“Look, you two,” Marquez said, marching across the room with two plastic bags of clothes in tow, “I love you both, and you’re just going to have to get used to being in the same room together. I’m tired of tiptoeing around your feelings. Summer, say hi to your brother.”
Summer toyed with her diamond ring, avoiding Diver’s gaze. “Hi.”
“Diver, say hi to your sister.”
“Hi,” he said softly.
“There.” Marquez dropped the bags. “Now, was that so difficult?” She wrinkled her nose. “What is that smell?”
“It’s our decorating theme,” Diana said. “Early American mildew.”
“Man, let’s open some windows, already.”
“They are open.”
“Doors, then.” Marquez swung open the louvered French doors that opened onto a wide balcony. “Look at this view,” she said. “This is so fantastic.”
Summer, Diana, and Diver joined her on the balcony. An ornate wrought-iron fence wrapped around the veranda. Trumpet vines, thick with bright orange flowers, wove in and out of the railing. An ancient oak tree shaded the porch, its limbs heavy with Spanish moss. The entire street below was lined with little shops and restaurants in turn-of-the-century buildings.
“How could you not have wanted to live here?” Marquez asked Summer. “What a great location. And my new job is right downstairs.” She sighed. “Of course, it’s not exactly like my old house.”
Summer patted her back. “I bet it was hard to leave your murals, huh?”
Marquez shrugged. “I’ll do a new one here. Maybe something on the ceiling. Sort of our own little Sistine Chapel.”
“Whoa,” Diana said, making a time-out sign. “Before you start redecorating, let’s try to do something tasteful. Like, say, putting that elephant out of his misery.”
“Like your coffin’s going to blend in, Diana.”
Diana rolled her eyes. “I’m going to measure the living room,” she said. “Maybe we can steal one of Mallory’s leather couches.”
“I think we should do this on our own,” Summer said to Marquez. “Start from scratch.”
Marquez elbowed her. “Did you smell that couch?”
“But if we let Diana borrow from home, it’ll be like it’s her place, not ours.”
“You’re right,” Marquez conceded. “And I’m already feeling kind of placeless at the moment.”
“Me, too. I talked to my mom last night, and she said—” Suddenly Summer realized Diver was listening intently.
“Said what?”
“Nothing. Just…well, she and my dad are selling the house.” She shot a look at Diver, but he’d turned away. He was staring impassively at a bee drowsing near one of the trumpet flowers.
Just then there was a knock at the door. “Anybody home?” a voice called from the stairwell.
“We have company, girls,” Diana announced.
Blythe was standing in the doorway, a plate of muffins in her hand. Someone was standing behind her. A guy.
With a sudden flash of horror, Summer realized it was Austin. Like Blythe, he was wearing a black T-shirt with Jitters, the café’s name, on the pocket. He was carrying something small and square wrapped in tissue paper.
“Well, well, the plot thickens,” Diana said, grinning slyly at Summer. “Come on in.”
“We brought you welcome-to-the-neighborhood muffins,” Blythe said. “Left over from this morning, but hey, they’re still good.”
“Great! I’m starving,” Diana said, grabbing one.
“None for me, thanks,” Marquez said.
“Me either,” Summer said, glaring at Austin.
“Told you she wasn’t the muffin type,” Austin whispered loudly to Blythe.
“Sit, everybody,” Diana said. “You have your choice of mildewed couch or cardboard box. By the way, Blythe, this is Summer’s brother and Marquez’s boyfriend, Diver.”
Blythe grinned at Diver. “Nice to meet you. Sorry I can’t stay. I’m technically on duty, even though the café is totally dead.”
“I can stay,” Austin volunteered, dropping onto the couch. “I’m technically off duty.”
“Thanks for stopping by, Blythe,” Marquez said.
“Come by later,” Summer added. “We might even have chairs and stuff.” She turned to Austin. “We’re a little busy here, Austin.”
“Aren’t you even going to open my housewarming gift?”
“No.”
“Yes, we are,” Diana said. She grabbed the present from Austin. “It’s our first, if you don’t count the muffins.”
“It’s really for Summer,” Austin said, but Diana was already unwrapping the tissue paper. She held up a small frame. There were typed words inside.
“It’s poetry,” Austin volunteered, “e.e. cummings.”
Marquez checked it out. “Nice,” she commented. “I don’t get it exactly, but I like the frame.” She passed it over to Summer.
“Go ahead,” Austin said. “Read it.”
Reluctantly Summer scanned the words:
yes is a world
& in this world of
yes live
(skillfully curled)
all worlds
—e.e. cummings
“love is a place”
No Thanks (1935)
“It’s very nice,” she s
aid politely.
Austin stretched out on the smelly couch. “Isn’t it amazing how he could compress so much into those five lines?”
“But I don’t get it,” Marquez said. “What is she supposed to say yes to?”
“Take a guess,” Diana said with a smirk.
Diver examined the poem. “No, it’s not like that,” he said after a moment. “It’s more like saying yes to life, to…possibilities.”
Austin nodded. “You ought to come to one of our poetry slams at the café sometime.”
“Now there’s a hot evening,” Diana said. “Sign me up for sure.”
Summer grabbed a cardboard box and began unpacking dishes wrapped in newspaper. “We really need to get to work, Austin.”
“You’re absolutely right.” Austin sat up and clapped his hands. “Let’s get down to business. Nice place, by the way. I almost took it, but it was too rich for my budget, and I don’t need this much room. I live just a couple of blocks over.”
“Oh, happy happy, joy joy,” Diana said.
“So where do you want me?”
“Toledo would be nice,” Summer muttered.
Austin laughed. “Alice, the landlady, told me you were thinking about painting the walls. She’s got paint and brushes and stuff stashed in the storage room downstairs. Want me to see what’s available?”
“Yes,” Marquez said.
“No,” Summer said.
“What color?” Diana asked.
“I’ll take that as a maybe,” Austin said cheerfully. With a wink at Summer, he headed for the stairs. “Back in a minute.”
Summer pointed an accusing finger at Marquez when he was gone. “Why did you tell him yes to the paint?”
Marquez shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know. Maybe it was that poem. It just popped out.”
“I told you guys this would happen,” Summer grumbled.
Diana began arranging silverware in a drawer. “Relax, Summer. Nothing is going to happen unless you want it to.” She sent her a knowing look. “That is, as long as you remember how to say no.”
“Remind me never to move again,” Diana groaned a few hours later. She stretched out on the bedroom floor, her legs propped up against the low, slanting ceiling. Marquez lay beside her, her head in Diver’s lap. In the next room, Austin and Summer were laughing loudly at some private joke.
“Have some more pizza, Marquez.” Diana pushed the box across the floor. “All you ate was, like, a black olive.”
“I’m too bushed to eat,” Marquez said. She checked her watch. “That’s got to be a world record. We painted the living room walls and unpacked three people’s stuff, and it’s only five-thirty.” She poked at Diana’s head with her toes. “You sure you’re okay with the room division? It’s not really fair, me getting one all to myself.”
“Sure it is. First of all, you’re the one who’ll be generating all the paint fumes. And besides, you’ll have Diver visiting, probably. At least until he gets that job.”
“If I get that job,” Diver amended.
Summer’s musical giggle floated through the open doorway. “For someone who didn’t want Austin around, she sure is enjoying having him here,” Diana muttered. “How long does it take them to paint four walls, anyway?”
“I really think Summer just wants Austin to be a friend,” Marquez said.
“You didn’t see what I saw on the roof of the stilt house,” Diana said.
“I don’t get why you care, anyway.” Marquez yawned. “I mean, it’s Summer’s love life, not yours.”
Diana sat up. She was grouchy and antsy, and she felt like causing some trouble. “I just worry about Seth, is all. I really like him. He’s a nice guy, and he deserves better than—” Austin laughed loudly, interrupting her. “He just plain deserves better.”
Marquez sat up, too. Her dark eyes were narrowed suspiciously. “Since when do you care so much about Summer and Seth’s relationship?”
“I’m their friend.”
“So am I, but I didn’t arrange for them to have a romantic spring break getaway on a private yacht. You did.” She crossed her arms over her chest.
“Mallory knew the owner. Big deal. I invited you, too.” Diana grinned. “And you know I don’t care about you, Marquez.”
“Still, it seems a little weird—”
Summer’s frantic scream interrupted Marquez. “No! Oh, my God, where is it?”
Seconds later Summer rushed into the room. Her face and hands were smeared with white paint. “My ring! I can’t find my ring!” She put her hands to her head, leaving a smudge of paint on her hair. “Help me, you guys!”
They followed her to the other room. Austin was scanning the floor. If he was smiling, it was hard to tell.
“Oh, no, oh, no, this is some kind of omen, isn’t it?” Summer wailed. “Seth is going to kill me. He is going to totally kill me.” She paced frantically back and forth, nearly knocking Austin over. “No, he’s not going to kill me. I’ll kill myself. It’ll be less painful that way.”
“Faster, too,” Austin added.
“Would you please stop ranting long enough to tell us what happened?” Diana said.
“I…oh, God, I can’t believe I was so stupid!…I took off my ring because I couldn’t find any gloves and I didn’t want to get paint on it.” Summer peered under a sheet of newspaper. “So I took it off and put it on the windowsill in this Dixie cup.”
“You put it on the windowsill?” Diana asked. “Wasn’t that kind of asking for trouble?”
“Oh, fine, Diana, like I don’t feel bad enough,” Summer wailed.
“Sorry,” Diana apologized. “But think how Seth is going to feel.”
“I am thinking about how Seth is going to feel. First he’ll feel terrible. Then he’ll feel homicidal.”
“Could be the other way around,” Austin pointed out. “They say depression is anger turned inward—”
“Shut up, Austin!” Summer snapped. “You’re the one who said it would be safe there. This is partly your fault.”
“I don’t see how I—”
“B-Because,” Summer sobbed, “because the other day you said I wouldn’t be wearing my ring before long, and you were right. You…you were…psychotic. No—”
“Prescient?” Austin offered.
“Psychic?” Marquez tried.
“I don’t know. One of those p words.” Summer sniffled. “Oh, it’s not your fault,” she admitted, “it’s mine.”
“So losing it was kind of a Freudian slip, you mean?” Austin asked.
“Please shut up,” Summer sobbed.
“Really, Austin, you’re not helping matters,” Marquez said. She put her hands on Summer’s shoulders. “Get a grip, okay? This doesn’t mean anything. It just happened. Now, let’s get organized. When’s the last time you saw the ring?”
“A few minutes ago. We were talking about whether to paint the ceiling, and Austin and I were fighting over who got the ladder. Then I noticed the Dixie cup on its side.”
Marquez put her head out the window. “The roof is almost level, just a little bit slanted. Maybe the ring fell onto the ground.”
“I’ll go look,” Diver offered.
“Me, too,” Marquez said. “Summer, you and Austin and Diana scour the bedroom. Check the rest of the apartment, too. Maybe it just rolled somewhere.”
“You know, you could probably pick up a couple of extra shifts at the café and buy a new one,” Austin said, grinning.
Summer groaned. “Maybe it wasn’t the biggest ring, but it meant the world to me.”
“That’s obvious,” Diana said sarcastically.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Summer demanded.
“Nothing,” Diana said. “Let’s everybody calm down and start looking. I’ll check outside with Marquez and Diver. You two do the bedroom.”
“We’ve already looked,” Summer moaned. “It’s totally hopeless.”
Diana headed out the door. “Depends on how you look at thing
s, I suppose,” she said softly.
13
Marquez Can’t Wait, but Austin Can.
“Smile,” Diana instructed, pointing her camera toward Marquez.
“I will not smile,” Marquez said, panting. “I am sitting on an exercise bike, sweating like a giant porker. I am not in the mood to smile.”
The sun had set, and the search for Summer’s ring had long since been abandoned. Austin had talked Summer into going for a walk around town. Diana, Marquez, and Diver had stayed behind in the apartment. Diver was stacking cardboard boxes while Diana played with her camera and Marquez exercised.
“I’m warning you, Diana,” Marquez barked. “Don’t do it.”
To Marquez’s great annoyance, Diana snapped a picture anyway.
“How long are you going to ride?” Diana asked. “It’s been, like, an hour.”
“Come on, Marquez,” Diver agreed as he broke down an empty box. “Hang out with us. It’s been a long day.”
“Another half-mile,” Marquez muttered, feeling annoyed. It was going to take some time to get used to sharing her space this way. At home she’d had the entire downstairs to herself. She’d been able to paint or daydream or exercise to her heart’s content. Without interference. Without commentary from some unfairly skinny audience.
Diana went to the kitchen window overlooking the backyard. “Summer and Austin are back,” she reported. “They’re heading for the pool patio. That was quite a long walk they took. Of course, she probably had to get over the terrible trauma of losing her ring.”
“What is it with you and Summer and Austin?” Marquez asked breathlessly.
“Nothing. I just think after she made such an issue about not wanting to move here because of Austin, it’s kind of strange that she’s spent most of the day with him.”
“I think you should leave that up to Summer,” Diver said.
Diana held up her hands. “I’m just engaging in some idle speculation. Summer says she wants nothing to do with Austin, then she spends the day with him, loses her engagement ring, and spends more time with him. I think it’s a little weird, is all.”
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