The Last Summer Girl: A Coming of Age Love Story

by S. C. York

  Finally, he speaks, “I met her sister, Emily, about three years ago. I was having lunch at the New York Yacht Club with Blake and his father, Charles. Em was our waitress. She was cute and funny, much like you. I asked her out, and it wasn’t long before we were officially dating. She was attending Boston College, and I was at Harvard so when the summer was over it was an easy transition to keep seeing each other.”

  “Wait, was Blake living in New York?”

  “No, Vanessa,” he says teasingly. “New York Yacht Club has a facility in Newport. Em would commute the forty-five minutes from Groton. The tips paid her tuition, literally. I would stay with Blake on the weekends or she would come to Marblehead when she had time off.”

  “So what happened?”

  He sighs into my hair, “Do we have to do this tonight?”

  I turn in his arms, propping myself up on my elbows, “Do you want Anna’s version of the break-up between you and her sister in my head?” I ask, taking my index finger and tracing his lower lip. He tries to bite me, but I’m too fast. I lower my head and let him think I’m about to kiss him, and then pull back at the last moment instead, just like I did on our first date.

  “Tease.”

  “Story first, kisses after,” I tell him.

  He starts talking.

  Hmm, my mom’s advice seems to be working, maybe men will tell you what you want if you just ask.

  “We were together for about three years. Despite how I like to unwind on the weekends, I consider myself a serious person. I was very studious in school, Harvard was tough. It was easy for me to maintain a relationship since I didn’t party or go out on the weekends.

  “Looking back, I loved Em, but I wasn’t ready for a long-term commitment. But after our first anniversary, she started hinting for a ring. I was focusing on starting my career, not a marriage. She accused me of using her and wasting her time. It didn’t help that our last Christmas together—”

  He stops and inhales sharply, not continuing.

  I lift my head off his chest and wait.

  He’s staring at the same stars I was gazing at earlier.

  “Well, I guess I have to go with the ending in my head and finish the story then.”

  “You couldn’t. How could you when Emily never knew all of it.”

  Ryan sits up, his head in his hands and slowly gets up. He opens the bottle of Riesling, giving me a glass, and leaves me cuddled in the warmth of the blanket while he leaves the makeshift tent and leans against the deck rail.

  “I was a real prick to her at the end. She never deserved such poor treatment. I was in a bad place and couldn’t see past my pain.” He takes a few small sips of wine and continues, “I needed a break from studying. The final exams before Christmas break were kicking my ass. I thought making a quick trip home to Marblehead would be the recharge I needed.

  “Nothing beats my mom’s house on the holidays. Our family used to put up three trees. In the grand hall we had a showpiece tree. Mom would hire a professional for that one. In the study, a nautical-themed tree and then a crazy family tree that was just for us in the family room. That one was always my favorite. It would be full of picture ornaments and art projects made in grade school. Mom was constantly baking...the entire house always smelled of gingerbread.”

  “Sounds like a Hallmark Channel special.”

  “No shit, more like a Lifetime movie by the end,” he says bitterly.

  “Anyway, I was in a real funk at school, burning out. So, Friday morning after my last class, I packed up and drove straight out of the city. I was hoping to surprise Mom, maybe take her out for lunch. Instead, I ended up walking in on my dad and his mistress. They were trimming the tree, alright.”

  “Oh, my God,” I gasp.

  Springing off the cushions I get to him in three short strides, throwing myself into his arms. I hug him tight around his waist, “I’m so sorry. How awful.”

  “There’s more,” he whispers into my hair. “But I’m going to need a stiffer drink to tell it. I’ll be right back.”

  I mull over everything he has told me so far, picturing the life he led a few years back. In a relationship, studying, and wanting to spend time with his family. Sounds like he was the man I want to be with now.

  Ryan comes back with his signature glass of scotch. He leans back against the rail looking up as if seeking answers from above. A single tear makes its way down from the corner of his lost, dark eyes.

  “Ryan?”

  “I just need another minute,” he tries to compose himself. I sit back on the cushions, giving him some space.

  “Later that weekend, my younger sister, Abby, also came home. She was a freshman at Colby College in Maine.”

  “I’ve heard of Colby, my friend from high school went there.”

  “Abby was studying marine biology. She was doing so well and had just started seeing a classmate. Of course, I wanted to meet the guy, but she said it was too soon to bring him home for a holiday.

  I didn’t want to ruin the holidays for her, so I kept my mouth shut. My dad was relieved, only caring about himself. He wanted to maintain his image as the doting family man to his baby girl. She always saw him as the perfect daddy.

  I was torn between loyalty to my mother and sheltering Abby from the truth. It was so ironic. I was worried about some strange guy being the first to break Abby’s heart. Who knew my dad would be the one to do it?”

  “I can’t even imagine, Ryan. What did you do?”

  “My mom had a right to know, I mean if I was married and my wife was cheating I would want to know. It was very clear cut to me. So, that night after Abby went to bed, I told my mom everything. She was devastated.”

  “I’ll bet, how awful.”

  “The next day, my mom confronted him. It was ugly, there was a huge argument. My dad stormed in, cursing and accusing me of ruining Christmas for the family—can you believe that?

  “The nerve of him—blaming me instead of himself?”

  “Oh, Ryan,” I whisper to him.

  “All the screaming woke up Abby. She found out everything. My baby sister took it hard. That night she went out to a Christmas party. She wanted a break from all the drama at home. I thought it would be good for her to get out of the house. But she never came back.”

  “What? Why?”

  “She died.”

  “No. Oh, no! What happened?”

  “She was distraught, outraged and hurt. She was only eighteen and starting up her first adult relationship. She couldn’t understand how my dad could cheat on my mom. She had a few glasses of champagne, not enough to get drunk but enough that it played a factor in the accident.”

  “Accident?”

  “When she finally mustered up the nerve to come home and face the situation she was hit by a drunk driver head on. She tried to swerve, but her reflexes were slow. I guess there were a lot of holiday parties that night. The irony is her death saved my parents’ marriage.”

  “What? I’m not following—”

  “My parents grieved together. They said their shared grief enabled them to re-connect. I was enraged. Maybe Abby would still be here if my father never had that affair. Hell, she wouldn’t have ever been at that party or on the road that night,” he finishes dejectedly.

  “You don’t know that, Ryan, and you can’t think that way. None of this is your fault, that’s for sure.”

  “That’s what my therapist said. I was a wreck. I was livid—at both my mom and dad for months after. I cut them out of my life, I was barely functioning and just did the bare minimum to get through the rest of my MBA. I shut Em out, I never told her about my dad’s affair or the arguments we had at home. She just knew about the accident, but I couldn’t stomach re-hashing the rest of it. She was close to my mom who never told her either. Mom wanted it swept under the rug, pretending it never happened. God forbid it ever got out and became a source of gossip. Abby died for nothing. My father keeps his wife and gets off, scot-free.”

 
“He lost you, Ry—deep down, I’m sure he knows the price that affair cost him. Guilt must consume him, especially since he and Abby were so close.”

  He tips his head and sips his scotch, taking a minute.

  “Senior year was winding down…Emily was getting impatient. I knew she wanted to plan our future. Find out where things with me were heading. But I could barely keep my head above water. The relationship just became too much emotionally for me to handle. So, I did the natural thing.”

  “Be a jerk?”

  “Pretty much, I was already distancing myself. Making excuses not to see her, and putting Em’s calls to voicemail. She wanted to be there for me, but I felt suffocated.

  “I just needed some space. I knew she was expecting a ring at some point. She kept talking about a future and moving past the pain together.”

  “Ouch. Emily really had no clue what was going on with your parents?”

  He shakes his head.

  “So you were never engaged to her?”

  “What? No, I’ve never proposed to anyone. She said that we were engaged?”

  “Well, her sister did, I haven’t met Emily yet.”

  “Please stay away from them both, Vanessa.”

  “I can’t. I work with Anna, remember?”

  “I know. Just promise me not to let anyone get in your head, okay? Let’s see where this goes without anyone trying to interfere.”

  “Okay,” I smile softly at him, “But I think you should know, Anna told me that you said some nasty things about their family then broke up with Emily over text.”

  “Well, that part is true. You have to understand, Vanessa...I was cracking. I couldn’t go

  home, my sister was dead, and my girlfriend was pressuring me to get married.

  “I started interviewing, trying to get a job while finishing school. Everything just fell apart; it was too much at once. Thank God for Blake, he saw what I was going through and really stepped up.”

  “How so? Does he know everything?”

  “Yes. I trust Blake more than anyone. There were days I couldn’t get out of bed, barely showered or ate. My place was a mess. Em showed up one night, and I didn’t have the heart to turn her away. She cleaned my kitchen, did my laundry, put fresh sheets on my bed, while I just sat and moped.”

  “She was good to you.” I’m jealous hearing this and the history he had with this girl.

  “Yes, she was. Anyway, I let her stay over. There was nothing to eat in my apartment, so we ordered delivery. When the guy arrived, he screwed up our order giving us the wrong food. I became enraged—started yelling in his face that he was a stupid idiot. I scared the heck out of the poor guy.

  But he really shit his pants when I picked up my computer and hurled it against the wall. Em was terrified; she’s never seen me like that. She ran screaming out of my apartment. I knew I was spiraling out of control, but I kept going. I couldn’t stop months of rage from boiling over. I followed her to the elevator. She was trapped. The elevator was coming up to my floor but not fast enough.

  I told her she was shit in bed. That I had been hooking up with Blaire on the side. Then I said that her parents were uneducated slobs and that I would never marry into a working-class family. As the doors to the elevator closed, she was wailing. Fat tears were raining down her face, and I felt shittier than I already did. But, I got what I wanted. She left me alone, and I never saw her again. She didn’t deserve how I treated her. Emily was a great girlfriend, just shit for timing.”

  “Did you really cheat on her with Blaire?”

  “No, that started after, but it was close. Anyway, the therapist Blake introduced me to saved my ass from flunking out. I was still a mess, but pulling myself together.”

  “You saw a therapist?”

  “Vanessa, I’m a private person. I’m trusting you with this because I want you to understand why I was such a dick to you when we first met. This stays between us.”

  “Of course, Ryan,” I whisper to him.

  “Anyway, I pride myself on being successful. I want to earn every dollar in my bank account by myself. I won’t touch a dime of my father’s money. I work hard, I play hard these days, but back then I could barely function.”

  “You can tell me, Ryan.”

  He blows out a long breath and finishes his drink. The mighty and cocky Ryan Stone is vulnerable after all. He’s blowing me away tonight, sharing so much with me. He rocks back on his heels deliberating.

  “Even after all this time, only Blake knows.”

  “Knows what?”

  “The thing is, Vanessa, I was on anti-depressants. I needed help to get my head straight so I could finish school and start a successful career. The therapist Blake recommended diagnosed me. She referred me to a psychologist, the medication took a few weeks to kick in, and I started weekly counseling sessions.

  “I graduated and never looked back. I’ll never forget how Blake stepped up and was there for me. He went from being a friend to a brother, and we’ve been inseparable ever since.”

  “I’m glad he was there for you. That’s how I feel about TJ and Eva. I would do anything for them. Do you still take the anti-depressants?”

  “No, I tapered off them last year. But, Vanessa, it’s important this stays between us. I work in a very cut-throat industry with high net worth individuals. The investors expect me to be top notch in every way. If this gets out, my career could be over.”

  “What? No, Ryan, that’s ridiculous.”

  “Actually it’s not. I’m being groomed to be senior management. This could spook investors. Who would invest money in a firm where a senior director has a history of depression? People are already nervous with their capital today—as they should be. Remember Bernie Madoff?

  “Who? Did he grow up with Blake?”

  “Vanessa—” he snorts and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Anyway, I think I’ll be okay now. I finally feel like the darkness inside has disappeared. The anniversary of Abby’s death hits me hard. Blake drops everything, no matter where he is and makes sure I’m not alone.”

  “When is it?”

  “December fifteenth.”

  “Ryan, you’re making me feel like crap. I was such a bitch to you last month.”

  “I was a jerk and deserved it. Sorry for acting like a complete tool. I’ve gotten used to just treating all girls the same, I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay, but I do have one more question. Is this what you meant when you said you were a bad person?”

  “Kind of—I guess I just was trying to warn you. You’re what? Five years younger than me?”

  “I guess? You’re twenty-nine?”

  “Yes, I got my MBA after my masters. I haven’t been in a serious relationship since Emily. I’ve been blowing through girls like this ship cuts through the water.

  “My therapist said I shut myself off emotionally after Abby’s death because the pain of losing her was too much. It was just easier to stop myself from loving anyone or caring.

  “Hell, simpler and more fun. I just stopped giving a damn at how I came off to women. But when I met you, you pierced my black heart, and it started to bleed. It scared the shit out of me.”

  “Is that why you haven’t called me in weeks?”

  “Yes, but I was also pissed that you called me a psycho. We had just met and obviously, I wasn’t going to tell you my life story.”

  “Come back over here, I’m getting cold.”

  He ducks under the sail and snuggles up against me. I press a finger against his lips and lightly trace them. This time, I don’t tease him but firmly take his lips with mine and open my mouth to let our tongues touch.

  He pulls me on top of him, adjusting the blanket over us, and kisses me through the breaking dawn. I feel closer to him, more connected.

  Hours have gone by. My lips are getting chapped, and I need sleep. Finally, I turn and tell him I’m just too cold and sleepy to stay out here all night. He leads me down to his stateroom and hands me a t-s
hirt and shorts. I climb into the bed, snuggled in his arms, and for the first time not at all worried about him trying anything that I’m not ready for. I feel close to him now, and I can tell he feels it too when he kisses the top of my head and tells me to go to sleep.

  The soft rocking of the yacht slowly awakens me. Ryan’s hand lays across my waist and has crept under my shirt, tracing circles on my taut stomach. “Ummm,” I moan and push my hips back into his. One hand moves higher under my shirt and gently massages each breast, the other slides down. He’s about to dip his hand into my panties when I turn to face him. He lifts my shirt up over my head and stares at my chest with a look of pure lust. He nuzzles my breasts, but I grab his head, digging my nails into his scalp, not hard enough to hurt but just enough to get his attention.

  “Yours needs to come off, too,” I yank his shirt off and trace his tan pecs with my hands. He kisses and licks my neck pushing my hair aside, gently nipping my ear. Things are escalating fast. Our bodies line up, pressing into one another. He brushes the hair back from my face and kisses me deeply. His tongue swirls in my mouth, minty and hot. I wrap my legs around his waist and press him deeper against me. I’m about to slide his boxers off but the shrilling ring tone of his phone on the night table next to my ear startles me.

  Ryan pushes off me and grabs it, frowning.

  “Shit, it’s the office.” He scrolls through, scanning a message.

  “Oh, Christ, an investor has a question about a deal I’ve been working on.”

  “On a Saturday morning?”

  “Yep,” he turns back to me, “I’m sorry, sweets. I need to get on my laptop and work.”

  “Okay,” I plant a kiss between his shoulder blades, feeling shy.

  Taking the sheet, I wrap it around myself, “But I need something first.”

  He puts his phone down and turns around to face me, taking his index finger, he dips into the crevice between my breasts.

  “Coffee. I need coffee…now! I wish there was a Starbucks on Block.”

  “You’re not used to luxury yachting, huh? Blake’s staff can make you anything.”

  “There’s staff?

  “Of course, Vanessa. This is Blake Foster’s boat.”