Serial Summer

by Angel Lawson

  With a glimmer in his eye, he captures my wrists and asks, “Trying to get away?”

  “From you?” I reply. The laughter and lust make it hard to catch my breath.

  “Yeah,” he says between kisses, each one deeper than the one before it.

  I start to shake my head to let him know that I have no intention of running from him, not now or any time before the end of my vacation, but he cuts me off with a kiss and for the first time in a long time, I allow myself to enjoy the moment. Like Justin says, just having fun.

  Chapter Ten

  My mother waits in the camper when Justin drops me off. It’s mid-afternoon and I expect her to be busy at her computer, but it’s closed and pushed aside. Instead, a half-full glass of wine sits on the table.

  “Hi,” I say, leaving my wet towel outside along with the cheesy grin I know will reveal my beach-side make out session with Justin. “Productive morning?”

  “I got a couple thousand words down,” she replies. I duck into the bathroom and start the shower. I’m peeling off my bathing suit when she says, “But then Sugar came to visit.”

  I stop undressing and step back into the main room. “How did that go?”

  She holds up her glass of wine. “Not bad—but not good either.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means wounds from the past are hard to heal.” She takes gulp of wine.

  “I’m glad you two talked,” I tell her, stepping back in the bathroom. “It’s been a long time and you need to patch things up.”

  “You sound like Richard,” she says. I step into the shower and wash the sand and salt off my body. My mind wanders to Justin and our time on the beach. Things got pretty hot and heavy between us. I snap out of my daydreams when she asks from outside the bathroom door, “So what’s going on with you and Justin Hawkins?”

  I pause. “Ummm…we’re hanging out? Why?”

  “He’s very handsome.”

  “Yeah, he’s pretty cute, I guess.” Obvious understatement of the summer, I think. I squirt a glob of shampoo into my hand and start scrubbing out the sand. There’s a lot of it embedded in the back of my hair, from, well, basically dry humping Justin on the beach. I wonder briefly if she noticed and scrub harder. She doesn’t say anything else, so I finish my shower, making sure to get the sand out of all the places it managed to travel today.

  I’ve got my towel wrapped around my body when I come out. She’s still there, just watching me. I notice the glass of wine on the table is full again. “Okay, what’s going on?” I ask, curtaining my ‘room’ off so I can change.

  “I’m just curious,” she says, from the other side. “He seems like a nice boy—young man. Richard really did a fine job with him.”

  After putting on shorts and a tank top I pull back the curtain. “Justin’s really appreciative of everything Richard did to help him. He struggled a lot as a kid from what I understand.”

  “Cute and damaged. Those are the dangerous ones. Watch out,” she says with the touch of a slur. She waves her wine glass in the air and continues to ramble. “He’s probably like Richard, always there when you need him—except when he’s not.”

  I’m not sure where this is going but I decide to push the limits, since she keeps bringing it up. “He also dated Sugar, right? That’s what Anita told me.”

  She snorts and I look around for the bottle of wine. How much has she had? “I wouldn’t call it dating as much as a rebound.”

  Ahh, the rebound. I knew a little bit about that. “So…”

  “So, contrary to modern legend, I was the one that dated Richard in high school, he only spent time with Sugar once I left.”

  “Okay.” That’s a surprise, but not a big one. Obviously, there’s some bitterness between them all. Guy trouble could easily be the issue. “So is this why you and Sugar don’t speak anymore?”

  She shrugs and takes a sip of wine. “Some of it. She was jealous of our relationship and when…well, when what happened, happened, no one around here could deal with it. I was the only one with enough maturity to walk away. They found solace in one another. It’s why I never came back.”

  “What happened?”

  “What happened is, once upon a time, I loved Richard. He was my fairy tale but I found out pretty fast that when shit hits the fan he’s not the guy you can trust.”

  I laugh. “And dad was?”

  “Nope he wasn’t either and that’s my point. Don’t go down this road with Justin if you can’t handle what’s at the end. You’re here for the summer and summer romances are romantic, wonderful things. But what happens here stays here. You can’t take this home with you.” Her eyelids droop and she leans back against the cushion.

  “Why don’t you take a nap, Mom?” I suggest. “Here, use my bed.”

  She doesn’t fight me so I help her off the couch and into the bed. I try to pull back the blanket but she’s already flat on her stomach nuzzling her face in my pillow.

  I’m pulling the curtains closed when she opens one eye and says, “Just be careful, don’t let him break your heart.”

  I try for my most reassuring smile. “Don’t worry mom, we’re just having fun. That’s all.”

  ~*~

  Justin stops by the camper the next morning. My mother is still asleep and I’m reading when he taps quietly on the window over my bed. Not wanting to wake her, I tip-toe past her and open the door as silently as possible.

  “Hey,” he says, greeting me with a fast kiss. The visit and kiss come as a surprise but I can get used to waking up like this.

  “What’s going on?” I ask. I see he’s in his work uniform, so I assume that’s where he’s headed.

  “Just wanted to see you before my day started.” His fingers tug at mine. “Invite you out tonight. Maybe hit the beach or come over?”

  My stomach flutters at his invitation. I bite my lip to keep from smiling. “I have to work with my mom today. Not sure when I’ll get back.”

  “Whenever is fine. We have a meeting after closing, too. I won’t be done until eight or so.” He’s staring at my lips. It’s okay though, because I’m staring back at his.

  “Okay, call or text or something,” I say. He nods and takes a step forward and I move back on instinct. I hit the trailer with a thud. Justin’s hands wrap around my waist and he leans down to give me another kiss. This one I’m ready for and respond with enthusiasm. That is until Mr. Johnson turns on his weed-eater next door. The zipping sound rips through the air, breaking the moment.

  “Tonight?” he asks, with a smile as big as the sun.

  “Tonight.”

  ~*~

  Seeing my mother groggy and hung-over is weird, but so is sharing a tiny trailer with her and listening to her talk about ancient history with Richard. It’s just another day in the Summer of Adventure for Paige Barnes.

  “That was another dead-end,” my mother says, tossing her notes into a folder and securing them in her bag. Since our visit with Darlene, she had spent her days either writing or researching possible victims. Somehow she managed to get her hands on several crime histories from the period, including the notes from the DA’s office. Her suspicions were right. Several victims came forward during that time period but their cases were never prosecuted. Most, she said, didn’t have enough proof or evidence for the police to proceed. This injustice has fueled my mother to give them their moment to speak. The problem we face now is that we can’t find any of these people. They’ve either died or moved away. Today we searched for three in the Conway area and came up empty-handed.

  “We’ll try again,” I say. Now familiar with most of the back roads, I drove while she took notes and sorted her files.

  “There are a couple more on my list, plus I’ll just keep looking in the employment records. Maybe I can track them that way.” Every day I learn a new trick to gathering information. She has dozens. She really may have missed her chance to be the next Nancy Drew.

  We spent most of the day in Conway an
d it’s near dinner time when we pull into the campground.

  “It looks like it may rain,” mom says, glancing out the window toward the island. The sky is dark and ominous. I guess there goes my date to the beach. On cue, my phone buzzes as we turn into our gravel drive.

  “That thing never stops,” she says.

  “It’s just the girls,” I lie. “Updating me on their trip. They leave in a couple of days.”

  Truthfully, I haven’t heard from the girls since the call from Catherine the other day. Even Mark has fallen off the radar. All of the texts today came from Justin. The sneaky bastard’s working his way into my heart, with silly photos and stupid messages. It’s easier to lie than admit this to my mother after her drunken confession about the Hawkins men. I slip the phone into my purse on the floor, knowing already he’s reminding me about tonight. His eagerness is endearing.

  “The girls, huh?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. Justin waits outside the camper, lounging on the patio chairs and messing with his phone.

  I give her a sheepish grin and get out of the car. Justin’s already out of his chair and I smile at the expectant look on his face. He’s happy to see me. A low rumble of thunder interrupts me saying hello.

  “Good afternoon, Justin,” my mother says from behind me.

  “Ma’am,” he says, showing his southern roots. “Make any progress on the book today?”

  “Not as much as I would like,” she says. “I guess I’ll do a bit more research instead.”

  Mom disappears into the trailer, leaving the two of us alone. His hand finds mine the moment she’s gone. I notice he’s showered and changed already. The damp ends of his faux-hawk blow in the wind. “Thought you had to work late,” I say.

  “I know the boss and checked out early. Is that okay?”

  “Yep,” I say. “I’m guessing though that date on the beach isn’t going to happen.”

  “There are other things we can do.”

  “Like what?” I suspect I know the answer to that.

  “My place?” he suggests.

  The pit of my stomach warms and I really want to say yes. “That sounds nice…”

  “But?”

  I shrug not wanting to make excuses or offend him. “Show me around instead. Take me somewhere local and fun.”

  He laughs and says, “You realize where we are, right? Nothing much around here but touristy things.”

  “Come on,” I say. “Show me where you go with your friends. Or where you’d take a local girl on a date if a massive thunderstorm was on the way.”

  “Really?”

  “Sure, I want the insider’s track to Ocean Beach.”

  “If you say so,” he says, still looking skeptical. “Go get ready. I’ll wait out here.”

  “Ten minutes,” I say, leaving him under the canopy as the first drops of rain start to fall.

  ~*~

  The storm rages hard enough outside that I can hear the thunder over the pinball machines, although the two kids fighting over foosball in the corner are making enough racket to compete. The air is greasy and everything has a fishy, fried smell, but the basket of fries between us tastes like heaven.

  “Do you eat hot sauce on everything?” he asks, dipping a fry into his own glob of ketchup.

  “Duh. It’s delicious.”

  “Gross.”

  “Ketchup is gross. It’s all sugar and tomatoes. Barf.” We smile at one another over the dingy, hard booth in the corner of an arcade-snack shop. I wanted the real Ocean Beach. Apparently this was it. “So this is where you take your local girls, huh?”

  He swallows a bite of hamburger and wipes his mouth. “Oh definitely, you know, if we didn’t meet here in the first place.”

  “Wait, like, you picked girls up here?” I gave him the side-eye.

  “Yeah, this is the hot place to find a girl—especially a tourist type. They love to hook up with a townie.” He flashes me a charming grin. “It’s like fulfilling some summer romance thing for them.”

  He gestures over to the foosball table and sure enough, there are two girls, dressed a little nice for an arcade eyeing the boys showing off. No wonder they were making all that noise. It’s like some kind of adolescent mating call.

  “So you had some kind of notch on your bed post scam going on? Like, how many girls could you bang in a summer?” I’m half kidding. Not really angry, but a little curious. Was I one of those girls?

  He shoots me a serious look. “First of all, yeah, I always chased tourist tail. The girls around here want babies and a trailer before high school graduation. You know that wasn’t my plan. I met girls from all over the country, hung out a little, asked a lot of questions and sure, hooked up with a couple.”

  “Okay, I get that,” I say, but then narrow my eyes. “How many is a couple?”

  “A few?” he dodges, that same damn smile creeping back. “Some of the girls I kept in touch with. Emails and stuff.”

  “So it was more than a summer fling?”

  “I don’t know. As much as it could be when you live hundreds of miles apart and the minute they step out of this place you no longer have anything in common.” He lifts his shoulders with a hint of wistfulness and I realize he probably really did like some of them. Who was I to judge?

  “So tell me, Mr. Hawkins, if you and I met here one rainy summer night, how would that go?” I bat my eyelashes at him playfully.

  He raises an eyebrow. “Well, first I would show off my mad skills at that pinball machine over there. Then once I got your interest I would cuss a little to show how tough I am.”

  “Really? That works?”

  “Oh yeah. Every time.”

  “If you say so…then what?”

  “Then I’d flash you a smile.” He flashes me a killer smile. “And ask your name and where you were from. All while checking you out.”

  I remember the day we met at the camp ground. The way his eyes roamed over my soap and shampoo-covered body.

  “Then,” he says. “I’d chat you up a bit and start to make my move.” Like a cat, Justin moves fluidly from his seat across the table and slides in next to me. His arm snakes over my shoulder and I find myself drawn to his smell and his warmth and ease into his side.

  “And then, we’d spend the rest of the night making out in that corner over there.” He points to a darkened spot behind the video games.

  I sit up and make a face. “Are you kidding?”

  “Nope. I mean, you said if it was raining. Normally I’d take a girl to the beach or something. But here? That’s the spot.”

  “Gross,” I say, but I already know if he asked me to make out in that corner I probably would.

  “You know, I’m not really that guy anymore.” His eyes are on my lips and I can feel his fingers touching the skin on the back of my neck.

  “No?” I swallow hard and then say, “because I’m totally that girl who would let you make out with me in the middle of a stinky arcade.”

  He breaks into the most glorious smile and among the kitchen noises, video games and shouting kids I lean in and kiss him.

  ~*~

  The rain is long gone the next day when I stand idly to the side while my mother signs a book. Mrs. Green, #172, invited us over for tea (the cold, sweetened kind) and homemade snickerdoodles. Just when I thought we could escape, she pulled out four of my mom’s recent books for her to autograph. This delighted Julia, of course, and sent her into a spiral of story after story about each one. I’m one second from slipping off to beg Justin to leave work early and come save me when she wraps it up with, “I’ll be sure to send you a copy of my new book, about Donald Gaskins, when it comes out.”

  “Don’t you ever get tired of talking about it?” I ask on the way back to the camper. The rain from last night blew away and we’re back to the same sweltering heat.

  “Talking about what?” she asks.

  “Murders and murderers. It’s depressing.”

  Mom steps over a hose lying in the pathway.
“There are stories of triumph in there, too. Those who fought back. The people who put them in jail.”

  “I guess,” I say.

  “Who’s that?” Mom asks, nodding to our camper.

  I stop short when I see who she’s talking about. To my shock, Mark stands under our canopy. Mark and his tidy, parted on the side hair, standard Polo shirt and crisp khaki pants.

  “Paige?” my mom asks, touching my arm. My hands are balled into fists, tight by my side. “Do you know him?”

  “That’s umm…” My teacher? Boyfriend? Married lover? I have no idea where to start because I haven’t even told her he exists.

  Tired of waiting for me to explain she starts toward him. Leaving me alone on the gravel path. “Looking for someone?”

  Her question is enough to spring me to action. I rush forward, tripping over the rocky driveway, in the process. “Paige!” Mark calls rushing over to me, bypassing my mother entirely. “Are you okay?” He lifts me off the ground.

  “I’m fine,” I say, pushing him off. My mother makes an impatient gesture implying she wants an introduction. I sigh and rub my forehead. “Mark this is my mother, Julia Barnes. Mom, this is Mark, someone I know from school.”

  “Nice to meet you, Mark,” she says, offering her hand. I can see the wheels turning as she takes in the scene. Nancy Drew, remember? I try to see it through her eyes and it doesn’t look good. Why is a twenty-eight year-old man driving to the coast of South Carolina to visit a nineteen-year-old woman? A man she has ever heard of before.

  “You too, ma’am. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  I can only shrug at the fact I’ve kept him a secret and say, “Mom, can Mark and I have a minute?”

  “Of course,” she says, but I already know my days as a secret keeper are over. The next time she and I come face to face I’m going to be the one spilling my life stories. Before she can even close the camper door, I say to Mark, “Follow me.”

  He does, dutifully, which is a surprise. At one time I would have sold my soul for him to show up at my house during the light of day and meet my mother. That was never an option for us, with his reputation on the line, and obviously more, but now, as he walks down the boardwalk to the shore I realize I don’t want all of that to taint this world.