Beach Blondes
Page 17
“Come on, Summer,” Adam said gently.
“Good night,” Summer said to Ross.
Ross said nothing, but as she walked away, Summer could feel his eyes on her.
It would have been impossible at that moment not to see Diana’s face in her mind’s eye. A sad, haunted-looking Diana saying, “Look out for Ross.”
Marquez was half asleep, staring blankly at Letterman’s Top Ten list on the TV, when she jumped at the sound of something rapping at her window.
“Madre de Dios!”
She seldom spoke Spanish unless cursing. She climbed out of bed and pulled back the edge of the curtain that blocked off the big shop display window.
“Seth? Diana?” Diana? Here?
“Let us in,” Seth said tersely.
Marquez let the curtain fall back. Midnight, and suddenly Diana shows up with Seth?
It had to be bad news of some kind. She dug around in a pile of clothes, found a bathrobe, and let them in. Both were soaked through, clothing clinging to their skin, hair matted.
Seth was hovering at Diana’s side, too close, as if he were afraid for her. He kept glancing at her with worried, wary eyes, as if ready to spring to her side and prop her up.
But Diana didn’t look as if she were going to fall. She was nearly vibrating with electric energy. She pushed past Marquez into the room, looking around with quick, jerky little bird movements.
“Good evening to you, too,” Marquez said huffily. “You know it’s midnight?”
“Is Summer here?”
“No. What would Summer be doing here?”
“Do you know where she is? I banged on her door for about an hour and she’s not at home. I went in and I found a note on her floor.”
“What note? What are you talking about?”
“I found Diana wandering around in the rain downtown,” Seth said, speaking for the first time. “She said she was coming here, so I offered to take her.”
“Is she high or something?” Marquez asked Seth in a quiet aside.
He shrugged.
Diana had stopped pacing and was staring at her own name on Marquez’s wall. “We used to be friends, didn’t we, Marquez?” she said.
“Did we?” Marquez asked archly.
Diana was unaffected by the sarcasm. Marquez had never seen this side of Diana. If it wasn’t drugs, it was way too many cups of coffee.
“You know, I never wanted her to come here,” Diana said. She was picking through the CDs on the counter.
“What?”
“Summer. I never wanted her to come here.”
“I think we all kind of figured that out,” Marquez said.
“It’s not my job to take care of her,” Diana said.
“Diana, why don’t you sit down and tell me what’s going on?”
“I’m wet. I don’t want to get everything wet. I’ll go. I just was wondering if Summer was here. You don’t know where she is, do you?”
Marquez shrugged. “The only other person she knows around here is Adam.”
“Who’s the diver?” Diana asked suddenly.
“The diver?”
Diana shook a damp note in Marquez’s face. “She wrote a note to some Diver person. Told him to be careful because Seth had torn up the place.”
Seth winced.
“Seth tore up the place?” Marquez asked, arching an eyebrow at Seth.
“I had to take up the—” Seth began, but Diana cut him off.
“He’s fixing her place, Marquez. Don’t act stupid!”
Marquez would have been offended, would have lashed back, but there was something frightening in the way Diana was acting. She hesitated for only a moment. If she guessed wrong about Diana, then Summer was going to be mightily pissed. “Diver is a guy Summer knows.”
“Maybe she’s at his house, then,” Diana said eagerly.
“No. He lives at the stilt house. He sort of lives with Summer.”
“What?” Seth demanded.
Momentarily Diana snapped out of her frenzy. “She has a guy living with her? She just got here.”
“It’s a long story. Look, Diana, you’re starting to scare me.”
Diana waved her off impatiently. “Nothing to be scared of. I’m sure she’ll be fine. I told her to look out for Ross. I mean, I did warn her.”
Marquez had had enough. She grabbed Diana by her shoulders and forced her to sit down on the bed.
“I’ll get it wet.”
“Tell me, Diana. Why did you warn Summer about Ross Merrick?”
“He was supposed to be rehabbed,” Diana said bitterly. “But I saw him, and he was drunk.”
“He was drunk at the party the other night, too,” Marquez said impatiently. “What else is new?”
Diana was biting her knuckles. Marquez was afraid they would start to bleed. “I didn’t know.”
“Diana…”
“It’s no big deal. He tried to rape me, is all, but he was drunk, and…” She faltered, unable to go on.
Marquez felt like the floor was moving. Like she might lose her balance and fall.
On the television, Letterman was interviewing Charles Grodin. Seth had turned to stone.
Diana had become very small, a tiny, shivering wet figure, lost in a vast room.
“Adam said I shouldn’t make a big deal out of it. I mean…you know, the family and all. And there would be all this mess. Besides, you know, Ross was going to get help.”
Diana dug her fingernails into her arms, clawing herself almost violently.
Marquez drew back instinctively. She looked for a place to go, to pull away. Her gaze fell on the big red letters. J.T.
She looked back, unwillingly, at Diana, lost and alone and so filled with self-loathing that it was like a force field vibrating the air around her.
Not my problem, Marquez told herself. Not even close to being my problem. But Seth was too stunned, too paralyzed to help. And Diana needed someone. Anyone.
Marquez walked back to the bed. She sat beside Diana and put her arm around her quaking shoulders.
25
What Summer Knew
Adam and Summer sat side by side on the floor of his room, talking in soft voices, kissing, sipping sodas, and intermittently watching MTV.
Letterman was on when Summer started to yawn.
“Sleepy? I’d better show you your room,” Adam said. “Unless…It’s such a long walk.” He flinched, as if he were waiting for her to throw something at him.
Summer smiled and yawned again. “You’d better show me my room. No matter how long the walk is.”
He held up his hands in surrender. “I had to try.”
She took his hand and pulled him up off the bed. “Come on.” She grabbed her bag and followed him down the corridor and around a corner.
He opened a door and reached in to flip on a light.
Summer groaned. “Look at this room! Oh, I could get used to this very easily.”
“Your own bathroom right there.” Adam pointed. “TV there, radio alarm clock. What else?” He looked around. “Oh, yes. Bed. Big, lonely, empty bed.”
“Thank you,” Summer said primly.
“Hey, where’s my tip? I showed you to your room.”
“Like you need me to give you money?” Summer said.
“Who said anything about money?” He put his arms around her and kissed her till she was gasping for air and feeling weak.
“I’ll let you get some sleep,” he said.
“Good night.”
He turned away.
“Adam? It was a really beautiful evening. The stars, the ocean, the marshmallows.”
“And?”
“And you,” Summer said softly. “Definitely you.”
He swallowed. “I am leaving this minute, and you might just want to lock your door after I’m gone. Because I don’t know how long my decent impulses will last.”
Summer laughed. “Get out of here.”
When he was gone, she explored the room for
a little while and washed her face. Her hair smelled of wood smoke and sea salt, but she decided she didn’t want to wash that away, not yet.
She climbed into the bed and flipped on the TV. Sleep overtook her quickly, even though moments before she had felt too excited to even think about falling asleep.
She dozed and woke just long enough to turn Letterman off.
She slept. For how long she didn’t know. She slept and dreamed of things that brought a smile to her lips, of tarot cards and three guys. In her dream she knew which was which—the right one, the mystery, the wrong one. She knew the choice she would make, as if she could see far, far into the future, past many months and years. In her dream she laughed and said, “Oh, of course, it had to be you all along.”
Summer awoke, aware of a noise. A soft, imperceptible noise. She opened her eyes and saw the door of her room opening.
Adam, silhouetted against soft light. He had come back. Maybe she should have locked her door. He sagged against the doorjamb, and in an instant Summer knew.
From far, far off there was a faint, insistent pounding noise.
july
1
The Incredible Shrinking Adam
“Adam?” Summer said, tentative, doubtful.
“I could be,” he said. It was a voice heavy and slow with alcohol. “You could close your eyes and you’d never know the difference.”
In an instant the meaning of what she was seeing changed utterly. She sat up and drew the covers close around her.
“Ross,” Summer whispered. “What are you—” Her cousin Diana’s warning came back to her. Fear’s cold fingers climbed up her spine. Look out for Ross. Diana had been strange at the time, almost terrifyingly sad and angry, all at once. Look out for Ross, she’d said.
Summer realized her mouth was dry. Her heart seemed unnaturally loud in her chest.
“Thought you might want a nightcap,” Ross Merrick said. “You know, little drink before bed. Help you sleep. Maybe…loosen you up a little.”
“No, thank you,” Summer said, her voice a quivering, uncertain whisper.
Ross came into the room. He staggered and cursed as he banged his knee against the side of her bed.
Summer crept back to the far corner of the bed. She had stopped breathing. Her eyes measured the distance to the door, the possibilities of racing past Ross and running down the hall.
“I’m tired. I’d like to go to sleep,” Summer said as firmly as she could manage.
“You don’t really want me to leave,” Ross said softly. He reached toward her.
Summer slapped his hand away. “Get out.”
“Oh, you can be a little more friendly than that,” Ross said.
They both heard the noise in the hallway at the same time—rapid footsteps.
Summer breathed again.
“Another time, sweet little Summer,” Ross said. He got off the bed and went back to the doorway just as Adam arrived.
Adam glanced anxiously from Ross to Summer. He seemed relieved, but when he turned back to Ross his voice was tight and angry. “What the hell are you doing here, Ross?”
Ross shrugged. “I heard the pounding downstairs. I came to make sure our house guest was safe.”
Adam was wearing boxer shorts and an open robe. His short dark hair was uncharacteristically messy, tufted and flattened by sleep. He stood just inches away from his brother. It was so easy to see the similarity between the two of them. And yet, there were differences, too. Adam was larger than Ross, more muscular, and several years and many hangovers younger. She should have known immediately that it had been Ross and not Adam.
“You’re a liar, Ross,” Adam said. “You’re a drunk and a liar.”
Summer was shocked at the venom in his tone. She had never heard Adam angry before. His usual tone of voice was gentle and amused. Now he almost seemed to vibrate with suppressed anger.
“Get lost, little brother,” Ross said contemptuously.
Adam grabbed his brother, bunching the front of Ross’s shirt between his fists. He slammed Ross against the doorjamb with surprising violence. “That pounding noise was Diana,” he shouted. “She’s downstairs with Marquez and Seth Warner right now. You want to guess why they’re here at two in the morning, Ross?” Adam slammed him again. “You want to try to guess?”
“Get your hands off me,” Ross snapped.
Adam hesitated. Then he threw Ross back, as if he were throwing away a piece of garbage. “Get out of here,” he said. “Get out and let me clean up your mess. As usual.”
Ross straightened his shirt, turned halfway to send Summer a leering wink, and shambled away.
For a moment Adam refused to look at Summer. He passed his hand back through his hair several times. He shrugged, as if trying to shake off the tension. At last he looked at her, then looked down at the floor. “I guess you heard,” he said. “Marquez and Seth are with Diana downstairs. They want to see you.”
“Why?” Summer was trying to act cool and calm, trying to reimpose normalcy on the insanity.
Adam sighed. “I guess I’ll let Diana tell you,” he said at last. “You’d better come down or they’ll come up here.”
Summer climbed out of the bed, feeling conspicuous and vulnerable in her baby-tee and boxer shorts. Lying atop her overnight bag was a robe. She put it on, grateful for the sense of warmth it conveyed, though the air was not cold.
Adam kept his eyes on the floor. “Look, Summer, I just hope…” He sighed again, sounding like a person who had no reason to hope. “I hope you’ll hear my side of things, okay? I mean, before you make up your mind completely.”
Summer went down the wide, plush-carpeted stairs, sliding her hand along the polished surface of a carved walnut banister too massive for her to really hold. Adam was a few feet behind her, the two of them a wildly incongruous sight, half-dressed amid the stifling grandiosity of the Merrick mansion.
In the huge common room below she saw Diana pacing, agitated, dripping rainwater from her sleek dark hair, leaving damp footprints on the Oriental rugs.
It must be raining outside, Summer realized. Deep within the hushed heart of the mansion she’d never even heard the thunder.
Diana Olan was wringing her hands like some over-the-top parody of worry. She slapped her hands down to her sides, but they didn’t stay there for long. Her usual mask of cool, distant boredom was gone. She looked as if she would scream at the first unexpected sound.
The sight of Diana this way was deeply shocking. Summer had glimpsed this Diana only once before, briefly, before the mask had come down again.
Summer looked at Marquez, perched edgily on a couch, wearing too-loud clothing, her buoyant brown ringlets matted and messy, her leg bouncing nervously, dark eyes glancing around the room, as if she were planning her escape. Poor Marquez, Summer thought. She hates getting dragged into other people’s psychodramas.
Seth stood, almost completely still, within a pool of shadow thrown by a huge potted tree. He tended to seem serious, even at the best of times, but now he was grim. He looked up at her, saw her, and a slight smile softened his face for a moment.
Summer gave a wave, a small, sheepish gesture. “Hi,” she said. This must look like something more than it was, with her dressed for bed and Adam wearing nothing but boxer shorts. She looked around the group as their eyes found her. “Why are you guys here?”
Diana seemed to be transfixed, ignoring Summer, staring at Adam. What was in that look? Hatred? Fear? Even some lingering echo of love?
“What did you tell her?” Diana asked Adam.
“Nothing,” he said. His voice was empty of any emotion. Flat. “This is your party.”
Diana hesitated. She looked at the others, as if they would handle the situation for her. “Where’s Ross?” she asked at last.
Adam said nothing, just lowered his eyes and stared down at the floor.
“What’s all this about?” Summer asked, growing impatient. The fear she’d felt had lessened. Her fri
ends were here. As ominous as they all looked and as embarrassed as she felt, their presence was comforting just the same. Especially Seth’s. Nothing bad could happen with Seth there. Seth was like her—an intruder from the normal world beyond Crab Claw Key.
Marquez jumped up from the couch. “Diana, you’d better tell her, all right?”
Diana shook her head. “I just wanted to make sure Summer was okay,” she said in an almost inaudible whisper.
“Diana!” Marquez exploded. “You can’t start this and not finish it. Look, we’re here, right? So spit it out and we can all get out of this museum.”
“This is about Ross, isn’t it?” Summer said to Diana. “About you warning me the other day.” She could feel Adam tensing up beside her.
“Not just Ross,” Diana cried, so suddenly she seemed to shock herself.
“What about Ross?” Summer demanded sharply. She turned to Adam. “Adam, will you tell me what’s going on here?”
But Diana had fallen mute again. Her hands were working convulsively at her sides. Her eyes were downcast, hidden in shadow. Adam said nothing.
Marquez lost patience. “Ross tried to rape Diana last summer. That’s what this is about, Summer. Ross tried to force Diana.”
Still Diana was silent. She just hung her head and nodded, almost invisibly.
For a moment Summer didn’t react at all. The words just hung in the air. Ross tried to rape Diana.
Then she began to see pieces of a puzzle falling into place. The anger in Diana’s voice whenever she’d spoken of Adam or his family. The distant sadness she’d so often seen in Diana’s eyes. The curt, dismissive way Adam spoke of Diana. The tension that crackled between them whenever they met.
“What happened?” Summer asked. She wanted to go to Diana, put her arms around her cousin, and try to penetrate the wall of sadness that surrounded her. But something was still unspoken. Summer could sense it. The story was not over, not yet.
“Right there, on that couch.” Diana pointed. “Adam and I had been out together, dancing. That’s right, isn’t it, Adam?” she asked, suddenly raising her voice. “Because I have such a hard time remembering the truth, what with so many lies.”