Summer Hearts

by Chase Connor

  “What’s your name?” I asked.

  “Nathaniel.”

  “Nathaniel, eh?” I chuckled. “That’s a big name for a little guy.”

  “I’m a big boy.” His bottom lip jutted out as he looked up at me.

  “Of course, you are.” I nodded earnestly. “I like the name ‘Nathaniel’.”

  The lip got sucked back in and he was smiling again.

  “And I think I know which house is your mom’s and dad’s.” I winked at him. “Do you want me to take you home, Nathaniel?”

  He chewed at his lip, maybe “Stranger Danger” going through his head—or whatever it was they taught kids in kindergarten and preschool currently. After a moment’s thought, he gave a small nod.

  “All right.” I smiled and stood. “Do you want to hold my hand so we don’t lose each other? You don’t have to hold my hand after we get to your house, it’s only until we get there.”

  Nathaniel didn’t hesitate. His hand grabbed mine quickly, trusting that I knew exactly where his house was and that I’d take him there. As we began to walk hand in hand towards his house across the beach, I was so glad that it had been me who had found him.

  I had to knock at the front door of the house several times before I heard someone sleepily stumbling towards the door to answer it. Nathaniel just gripped my hand and smiled up at me, obviously amazed at my ability to find his house so quickly, as I knocked and waited. I was getting impatient, hoping that Nathaniel hadn’t gotten his colors confused and told me the wrong house. If I woke up the wrong person and they came to the door to find some black teenager holding the hand of some little white kid, there was no telling what might happen after that.

  I tried to push that negative thought out of my head.

  When the door finally opened, a man who was probably in his early thirties was yawning and scratching his head. Brown hair was sticking up in every which direction as he tried to wake himself up. He had the build of an ex-college football player but the face of someone who had done more important things since his glory days.

  Please let this be Nathaniel Senior, I thought to myself.

  “Um, hello,” I said, unsure of how to approach the man about the child, “I was walking on the beach, and—”

  When the man’s eyes landed on the boy, they grew as wide as saucers, shock spread over the man’s face, and he nearly came out of his skin.

  “Nathaniel!” His whole body seemed to jerk, as though it had been a long-dead relative who had knocked on his door. “What are you doing out here?”

  Then his eyes finally landed on me, and the shock turned to confusion. Obviously, he didn’t know me from Adam.

  “Hello.” I did my best to smile innocently. “I was walking on the beach this morning, and I found Nathaniel out there. Alone. He said this was his house. And…I guess it is?”

  “Daddy!” Nathaniel let go of my hand and ran to wrap his arms around his dad’s leg as if trying to merge his body with his father’s.

  Obviously, Nathaniel living through the terror of being alone on the beach and not knowing how to get home had made him appreciate his father even more than he probably already did. I vaguely remembered being that young, feeling as though if you held onto your parent tightly enough, nothing could ever harm you.

  The man continued to look both shocked and confused at the same time while trying to figure out what was going on with his son and focus on me at the same time.

  “I don’t know if he just walked out of your deck door or something.” I shrugged. “But I knew he probably wasn’t supposed to be there alone. So…yeah. I’m glad we found the right house on the first try.”

  “Um,” The man shook his head, “I’m sorry. I took an Ambien last night to help me sleep. I’m a little foggy. You found Nathaniel?”

  “Yeah,” I stated evenly. “On the beach. When I was walking. Alone.”

  The man’s eyes grew in horror once more, and he crouched down to look his son in his face.

  “Oh, my God!” He proclaimed. “Are you okay, Nathaniel? What happened? Did you just walk out all by yourself? You know you can’t go down to the beach all alone, buddy.”

  “I just wanted to see the sea glass, daddy.” Nathaniel’s bottom lip was sticking out again.

  His father sighed with relief and pulled his son into him, one arm going around him and the other reaching up to lay a hand on his head. Nathaniel’s father closed his eyes, obviously terrified at thinking of what could have happened, as he hugged his son to him. I stood there, chewing at my lip, wondering what the protocol was for quietly slinking away while father and son had their happy reunion. My job was done.

  “Okay,” I said. “Well, it was nice to meet you, Nathaniel. And Nathaniel’s dad. I’ll, uh, leave you guys to it.”

  “I’m sorry.” Nathaniel’s dad stopped me before I completed a single step backward. “Um, yeah. Sorry. Who are you?”

  “Uh, Cooper,” I said, reaching out my hand. “Cooper Weissman.”

  Nathaniel’s father took my hand quickly, squeezing it firmly, a smile spreading across his face.

  “Carter Powell. Thank you so much, Cooper Weissman.” He chuckled nervously. “I’m so sorry. I took an Ambien. My wife hasn’t come up to stay with us yet, so it’s just us, and I guess I didn’t hear Nathaniel when he woke up, and…”

  He looked down at his son, who was beaming innocently up at him.

  “I got it.” I smiled, my hand sliding from his. “I figured that it was something like that.”

  “I can’t thank you enough.” He shook his head, another relieved sigh escaping his throat.

  “No sweat.” I shrugged. “I’m just glad everyone’s okay. And that Nathaniel is so smart to know the color of his house.”

  Nathaniel smiled at me proudly, then up at his father. His dad chuckled and ruffled his hair before pulling him tightly to his leg as Nathaniel held on for dear life. When Mr. Powell looked up at me again, his smile turned into a look of intense concentration. That made me a little nervous.

  “You look so familiar.” He cocked his head to the side.

  The Ambien had not completely worn off, obviously.

  “Um, I don’t think we know each other.”

  “Have you been on T.V.?”

  I laughed, but I was hoping he meant on a T.V. sitcom and not the nightly news or something.

  “No, Mr. Powell.” I shook my head. “I guess I just have one of those faces.”

  “That’s so odd.” He shrugged with a half-smile. “You just look so familiar.”

  I shrugged with him.

  “You were walking on the beach.” He said. “Are you staying out here?”

  “Um, yeah,” I replied, hoping he wasn’t implying anything. “Several houses that way. Yellow one. Just like yours. My buddy’s dad rented the house for us for a couple of weeks for a graduation present.”

  “Oh!” He smiled. “You just graduated from college?”

  “High school.” I felt my cheeks warm, hating to admit that I was so young. “Prep school.”

  “Prep school.” He shook his head in a goofy way.

  I couldn’t help but laugh.

  “Very fancy.” He added.

  “Yeah.” I agreed. “I guess. We all went to Dextrus Academy and—”

  “That’s it!” Mr. Powell started, nearly scaring the pants off of Nathaniel. “Dextrus Academy. You were the valedictorian. You gave that amazing speech! I saw it on YouTube.”

  Those words coming out of Mr. Powell’s mouth shocked my whole system.

  My entire body seemed to tense against my will.

  Oh. That’s what it feels like when an ulcer starts forming.

  “Um,” I debated my options but realized I had none, “yeah. But I didn’t know that it ended up on YouTube.”

  “I think someone just uploaded it recently.” He said. “People are talking about this amazing speech that a young, gay, black kid gave at commencement about more diversity and privilege in private schools. It
’s all over Twitter—and I guess all of the social media sites, I guess—and—”

  He realized he was babbling.

  I was just staring back at him, trying to get my mind to work.

  “I’m sorry.” He winced. “I probably said some offensive things…”

  For a few moments, we were just staring at each other. Then, as if someone had plugged me back in, I found my voice.

  “Well, I am gay and black.” I shrugged jerkily. “And I gave the speech. I’m not offended.”

  Mr. Powell laughed loudly.

  “I just want you to know that I thought the speech was brilliant, Cooper.” He was reaching out for my hand again. “And then you saved Nathaniel. I mean, come on, you’re like Superman today.”

  “Superman!” Nathaniel parroted happily.

  “I don’t even know how to respond to that.” I felt my cheeks getting warm as I shook his hand once more. “But, thank you, sir.”

  Suddenly, I realized that Mr. Powell looked very familiar to me, too. Like a lightning bolt, somewhere in the archives of my brain, his face and a snippet of knowledge I had stored slammed into each other.

  “Oh!” I jerked. “You’re Carter Powell. The, uh, venture capitalist. I saw those articles—uh, in Business Insider and The Wall Street Journal? Well, on their websites, actually.”

  “You read Business Insider and The Wall Street Journal?” He laughed delightedly. “What don’t you do, Cooper Weissman?”

  I looked down at myself.

  “Put on appropriate clothes for when I meet important businessmen, I guess?” I shrugged goofily. He laughed loudly. “I loved how you talked about the future is VC’s needing to put some of their equity into social programs and requiring their firms to put a percentage of their profits into the programs once they hit high-yield status. We shouldn’t just trust the government to do the right thing when we have the power to do so ourselves. It was brilliant, sir.”

  “You really did read the articles.”

  Mr. Powell looked pleasantly astounded.

  “Yes, sir.” I nodded.

  “Are you going off to college for a business degree?”

  “Education major.” I gave a one-shoulder shrug. “Like my dad. He teaches at Dextrus. But you probably knew that from my speech…”

  Suddenly, I realized that Mr. Powell had not really been smiling at me every time he had smiled. I knew this because I saw his actual smile form on his face as he stood there looking at me.

  “You went to Dextrus Academy, graduated valedictorian, and you’re going to become a teacher?”

  “Yes—yes, sir.”

  He pointed a finger at me. “I like you, Cooper Weissman.”

  I laughed nervously. “Thank you, sir.”

  “Carter, please.” His hand was extended once more, which I took. “How could I let you call me ‘sir’ after you saved Nathaniel?”

  “I don’t know if I saved him—”

  “Dad.” Nathaniel was looking up at his dad, obviously bored with listening to us talk about adult stuff.

  “Be polite, Nathaniel.” Carter corrected him gently, his fingers ruffling his son’s hair once more.

  “It’s okay.” I gave them a wave. “I need to get back to my friends anyway. They’re probably going to be waking up soon.”

  “Of course.” Carter gave an understanding nod.

  “It was nice to meet you, Nathaniel.” I nodded at the kid, and he smiled up at me. “And you, too, Mr.—uh, Carter.”

  We both laughed.

  “It was brilliant to meet you, Cooper Weissman,” Carter responded. “If you need anything while you’re staying up here, you know where I am. I owe you one, Cooper.”

  “No worries,” I responded.

  I gave another wave as I walked away, ready to go back to the beach house and tell the guys about meeting Carter Powell.

  “He’s just staying up the road from us.” I nodded excitedly to Logan, who was on the other side of the table from me. A.J. was trying to work the coffee maker. “He’s a really nice guy.”

  Logan beamed at me as A.J. swore and banged around.

  “You saved his son,” Logan replied. “If he weren’t nice to you, he’d have to be a total dick.”

  I waved him off.

  “It was really cool.” I sighed and sat back, pulling my legs up into the chair to sit in the lotus position. “I mean, it was kind of awkward, but he was super nice about the whole thing. Really cool dude.”

  “That’s awesome.” Logan agreed. “Do you think—”

  “Can’t we just get Alex to get out of fucking bed and drive us to a coffee shop or something?” A.J. groaned, cutting Logan off. “Or go get his keys, Coop. I’ll drive us for fuck’s sake.”

  Logan’s eyes grew wide, and he shook his head at A.J. from across the room. I couldn’t help but chuckle. Logan knew as well as I did that taking Alex’s keys would land us all in hot water. Not that we were scared of Alex or anything, but we didn’t want to deal with one of his hissy-fits. That, too, made me consider my future with my boyfriend. He was kind of stingy with his toys. Which, I guess, was okay since they were his toys…but he knew we were at his mercy when it came to going anywhere that required a car. Sleeping in so late kept us all housebound against our will.

  “I can go wake him up.” I offered.

  Logan shook his head with a frown.

  “A.J., come sit down,” Logan suggested. “Cooper, you go do the coffee. You’ll figure the machine out quicker.”

  Laughing, I rose from my seat as A.J. glowered playfully at Logan and stomped over to take the seat next to his boyfriend. Logan and A.J. made gross, kissing and holding hands and murmuring to each other as I quickly went about getting the coffee machine going. Having Logan pull A.J. away from the coffee machine was brilliant because I was dying for my daily fix and A.J. never would have figured out the machine. As far as I knew, he wasn’t even a coffee drinker, so I doubted that he knew his way around how to make it. Within two minutes, I had the coffee going and a better outlook on the day, though it had started out kind of spectacularly anyway.

  Just as I stepped away from the machine and started walking towards the dining table, Alex exited the hallway, one hand scratching his head and the other scratching obscenely at his crotch. That was my boyfriend. Crotch-scratcher. I couldn’t keep myself from rolling my eyes as he yawned and made his way to the dining table, immediately plopping down into the chair I had previously occupied. Instead of joining them all, I went back to my place at the counter next to the coffee, knowing I would need a cup of coffee before I could look Alex in his eyes.

  A.J. and Logan made small talk with Alex, though he mostly grunted and groaned in response since he hadn’t fully woken up yet. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Alex glancing at me a few times, obviously wondering if I was going to say “good morning” or anything to him. My upbringing told me that I had to say some form of morning greeting, but my petty side told me that it could wait until I had a mug of coffee in my hand. Once the coffee was done I grabbed four mugs, somehow looping an index finger through all four handles and scooping them up. Then I grabbed the coffee pot, full of the delicious nectar of the gods, and made my way to the dining table.

  “Good morning,” I said to Alex.

  That was it. That was all I could manage.

  “Who wants coffee?” I asked.

  “Me, please!” Logan raised his arms over his head cheerfully. “I need my caffeine fix, broseph!”

  I smiled at him and looked at A.J. and Alex in turn.

  A.J. turned his nose up and shook his head.

  “Yeah.” Alex nodded before yawning again.

  I set the mugs down, doing my best to not frown at my boyfriend, and filled three with fresh coffee. Logan happily accepted a mug as I passed it to him, issuing an enthusiastic “thank you” in response. Alex merely grunted when I handed him his mug. A.J. and Logan were looking nervously at each other, though they didn’t realize I was paying attention. I
just stared down at Alex impassively as I grabbed my mug and brought it to my lips for a sip.

  “Oh, hey.” A.J. turned to Alex. “Cooper saved some kid on the beach.”

  Logan nodded as I just sipped my coffee and stared at Alex.

  “And he met like this super well-known business guy who was in The Wall Street Journal,” Logan added. “He did both things before we even got out of bed.”

  A.J. and Logan laughed, still amazed at the ridiculousness of my morning without them.

  Alex yawned again.

  “That’s cool.” He said simply. “Are we gonna go get groceries or are we just gonna eat at a restaurant for every meal?”

  Logan’s and A.J.’s smiles slowly melted from their faces.

  Gangsta Rap from the 90s played in my head as I tossed my hot cup of coffee in Alex’s face and called him a “punk-ass bitch.”

  I shook my head to clear away the thought.

  “Logan and I will go get groceries,” I answered evenly.

  A.J. continued to frown at Alex as Logan turned his head slowly to look up at me. Shrugging at Logan, I took another drink of my coffee as Alex visibly struggled to not look in my direction. Instead of saying anything to my boyfriend or even tossing coffee in his face, I went to the kitchen, tipped my mug down the sink, and rinsed it out.

  “I’m gonna go get a shower and get dressed, Logan,” I said as I walked towards the hallway.

  “Yeah.” Logan hollered after me. “I’ll get ready, too, man.”

  I gave a wave over my shoulder as I slipped into the hall.

  Logan was pushing the shopping cart through the grocery store in the middle of town, sporadically stepping up onto the lower bar to “ride” every now and then, as I walked along beside him. We had only put a few things in the cart since we weren’t sure what A.J. and Alex would want to eat the most. As things turned out, I realized pretty quickly that Logan had never gone grocery shopping for himself. I didn’t have to ask to know that Alex never had and I was pretty sure that A.J. probably hadn’t either. In my family, Dad and I often took turns doing the grocery shopping since he had a job that required long hours. I wasn’t an expert or anything, but I knew what it took to properly stock a kitchen, and I knew a good deal from a bad one. So, Logan let me take the lead.