“Entrant number one, Escape Route,” a loud-speaker blared over the crowded beach.
The crowd broke into applause. Close to shore, bobbing slowly past the marina and beach, was a huge sailboat lit up like a Vegas casino. Every square inch seemed to be covered by blinking Christmas lights. The crew, decked out in elf costumes, danced and mugged for the crowd. Atop the foremast, an illuminated mechanical Santa waved jerkily.
“It is kind of pretty,” Summer conceded, resting on her elbows in the sand, “in a really tacky way. I suppose I have to give them points for trying. After all, Florida is sort of handicapped when it comes to Christmas weather.”
“Snowflake-challenged,” Austin agreed.
“Maybe we should have invited Harris along,” Summer said.
Austin shook his head. “Harris is like you. He would find this unbelievably tacky. Me, I say nobody does tacky better than Florida.”
“You know what just occurred to me?” Summer said. “What would make my paper really interesting?”
“Having turned it in two weeks ago?”
“What would make it interesting,” Summer continued, “would be if I looked up Vera to get her take on Harris’s story. A sort of double oral history. His and hers.”
“Bad idea.”
“It’s a great idea.”
“This isn’t a romance you’re writing. It’s about the effect of war on an individual, isn’t it?”
“But war did affect these individuals profoundly,” Summer said. “I could find Vera, ask her about things, and—”
“And then reintroduce Vera and Harris,” Austin finished. “I know how your mind works, Summer. I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Why not?”
Austin paused as the crowd burst into applause for the second entrant, a fishing boat decorated like Santa’s sleigh. “Because,” he said when the crowd had quieted a bit, “things don’t always work out the way we’d like them to. Because you can’t write other people’s stories for them.”
“A Christmas reunion, Austin. Think of it. It would be so romantic! We could even re-create the whole thing, Harris’s dinner, the ring …”
She could tell by Austin’s dubious expression that he wasn’t buying it. “It could make him really happy, Austin,” she said. “And if it did work out, it would redeem this whole otherwise crappy Christmas.”
“If Vera didn’t want to be with Harris fifty-plus years ago, what makes you think anything’s changed?”
Summer shrugged. “People change.” She looked away. “They make decisions, they change their minds. It happens.”
They fell silent, listening to the rise and fall of the noisy crowd, ebbing and flowing like the waves.
“Is that Diana over there?” Austin asked, pointing. “On the wharf, with Marquez and …” He frowned. “Is she carrying a little girl?”
“I forgot to tell you. Diana and Marquez are adoptive mommies. Long story.” Slowly Summer stood, brushing sand off her legs. “I guess I should get going. Thanks for today.”
Austin smiled. A girl’s voice called out his name. They turned to see Esme waving as she made her way across the sand.
“Well, good luck with the project, Summer. And if I don’t see you, have a great Christmas.” Austin leaned toward her and gave her a soft, lingering kiss on the cheek.
Summer’s heart ached as she watched him run off toward Esme, darting through the busy crowd. Her throat felt choked, and her vision blurred with tears. She wanted to run after him, to reach out and hold him. To tell him that she loved him and always had.
She couldn’t. It wouldn’t be fair. It didn’t make any sense.
But then, the heart was a strange muscle indeed.
9
The Ghosts of Gifts Past
“There’s Summer” Seth said, and Diana felt his hand slip away from her waist.
He waved. Summer waved back as she inched her way through the crowd. As if they were just a couple of old friends, Diana thought. As if they weren’t two people who’d planned, once upon a time, to make a life together.
“Marquez, could you take Sarah for a minute?” Diana asked.
“Sure. Hop on board the ol’ shoulders, kid,” Marquez said. “You’ll have the best view in the house.”
Her lamb in one hand, Sarah settled onto Marquez’s shoulders. “Wow,” she murmured.
“Having a good time?” Diana asked.
Sarah nodded. Diana made a mental note to buy her a new lamb. Her old one was falling apart, leaking stuffing from his front right foot.
“Was that Austin Summer was with?” Seth asked, frowning.
Austin, his old rival. Diana took a deep breath. “She’s working on some history project,” she said. “She was interviewing Austin’s great-uncle.”
“Oh.” Seth turned to Diana as if he’d suddenly remembered she existed. He leaned over and kissed her on the neck.
“Are you going to be okay with this?” she asked.
“I’m okay,” he whispered. “Really.”
Diana managed a smile. “Promise?”
“I told you. I’m over it. Over her.” He kissed her again, a light kiss on the lips that sent a shiver of longing through her.
He looked so good, better even than she’d remembered. He’d lost a little weight—he blamed dorm food—leaving him wiry and muscular. His brown hair was shorter, and the glints from the sun had vanished. So had his Florida tan. All in all, he looked older to her, more mature. Like the college guy he was.
Until he stepped back into her life that afternoon, Diana hadn’t realized how much she’d invested in Seth. All through the fall she’d told herself his letters and phone calls were just friendly updates, nothing more. She’d even considered the possibility that Seth was staying in touch with her just to find out how Summer was doing. Even now she wondered if that was the case.
“Hi, everybody.” Summer finally joined the group, looking breathless and beautiful.
She and Seth locked eyes. “Well,” Summer said brightly, “I guess it’s time for the awkward reunion, huh?”
“Not so awkward.” Seth held out his arms.
Diana knew it was a brief embrace, an old-friends embrace. Still, watching it hurt.
“You look … older,” Summer said as she pulled away.
“Yeah. I aged about ten years during finals. You look …” Seth cleared his throat. “Great.”
A long, awful pause followed.
“Where’s Diver?” Summer asked Marquez.
“He got stuck working late at the wildlife rehab center. Something about a gator who ate one of those flamingo lawn ornaments.”
Everyone laughed, but the laughter was instantly followed by another deafening silence. Finally Summer turned to Sarah. “So, you having fun, Sarah?”
“The boats have pretty lights,” Sarah said.
“Have you seen our Christmas tree all lit up yet?” Summer asked.
Sarah shook her head.
“We were trying to spare the kid the trauma,” Marquez said. “It’ll turn her off Christmas for decades.”
“They’ve been giving me a hard time about the tree I picked out,” Summer explained to Seth.
“Remember the one your dad got last Christmas?” Seth said. “That one he picked out at the cut-your-own farm? That thing was a monster.”
Against her will, Diana instantly flashed to Christmas a year ago. They’d all gotten together in Minnesota. Just a bunch of friends and family doing the holiday thing. Just an innocent get-together. Until New Year’s Eve, when Diana and Seth had gotten stuck in that car and everything had changed …
It had started out so innocently, just a what-the-heck New Year’s kiss at midnight, two old friends stuck in a funny situation they knew they’d laugh about later. But after they’d pulled away, Set had looked at her in a different way, and when he’d reached for her again and they’d kissed, it hadn’t been two old friends. It had been like nothing Diana had ever felt before, not with any of th
e guys she’d ever dated.
It had been the kind of kiss where you lost yourself, the kind that was almost scary because you weren’t sure you’d ever find yourself again if you let it go on too long.
She’d told herself it was just the illicit nature of it all. A stolen kiss. They were being bad, sneaking behind sweet Summer’s back, and wasn’t it kind of fun, like that first time you skipped school? She’d told herself Seth had always been just a buddy, a guy she’d never looked at that way. She’d told herself she was just feeling lost and adrift and that maybe she was just a little jealous of Summer and Seth, so much the perfect, happy couple.
But of course, she’d been lying to herself about all those things.
And now there was no Summer-and-Seth anymore. It wasn’t really Diana’s fault. Austin had been the real problem. Diana had just been a symptom.
Still, there were times when she wished she could make that Christmas go away. Meet Seth on her own terms, without all the history. Start fresh.
She felt a hand on her waist. “You okay?” Seth whispered in her ear.
Diana nodded. “Just reminiscing.”
“Christmas does that to people,” Seth said.
“Why is it I seem to remember only the bad Christmases?”
“This one’ll be different,” Seth promised, and for a moment Diana almost believed him.
H
“You comfy?” Diana asked as she tucked Sarah into bed later that evening.
Sarah nodded. She was so tiny, she practically disappeared under the comforter.
Diana set aside the Sassy magazine they’d been thumbing through. “Sorry about the reading material,” she apologized. “It’s not exactly Goodnight Moon. But at least you’ll know how to accessorize for spring.”
“You have lots of magazines.” Sarah pointed to the pile on the floor.
“I believe it’s vital to be up on current events. That’s why I subscribe to both Mademoiselle and Glamour. It’s important to entertain all points of view.”
Sarah frowned.
“Okay, okay. I know I’m shallow,” Diana said. “No need to rub it in. So, I guess it’s time for the ol’ goodnight, eh? We already did the bedtime routine. Tooth brushing, plus a good moisturizer and toner. Let’s see. Want me to leave a light on?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Tomorrow we’ll go see Santa, since we missed him today.”
“Santa isn’t real.”
Diana tucked her comforter around Sarah’s chin. “Yeah, I’ve heard that rumor too. But I’m keeping an open mind. Don’t you think maybe you should stop by and say hi, just in case?”
Sarah stared at her with those huge, luminous eyes. It was kind of unnerving, Diana realized. Like putting Bambi to bed.
“I mean, you were willing to give him a chance at the party, weren’t you?”
“’Cause my mom said there were presents.”
“Oh, I get it.” Diana reached for Sarah’s lamb and pushed some of the wayward stuffing back into place. “Does your lamb have a name?”
“No.”
“Well, don’t you think you should call him something?”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. Because it’s important. What if you didn’t have a name? We’d have to call you Girl.”
Sarah smiled a little. “I’ll think about it.”
“Okay. Meantime, we’ll call him Lamb. You know, he could use a bath. And he’s kind of oozing stuffing. Want me to sew him up?”
“No.” Sarah yanked the lamb away.
“No problem. It’s probably just as well. I don’t really know how to sew.”
“My mom doesn’t either.”
Diana stroked the little girl’s hair. Had her own hair ever been that silky—so smooth, it was like touching glass?
“Your mom will be back soon, Sarah. Okay?”
She didn’t answer.
“She just needs a little time, is all.”
“How much time?”
Diana glanced at the glowing blue numbers on her clock radio. How much? Hours? Days? Months? What if Marquez was right? What if Jennie never came back?
“You know what my mom used to say when I asked her how long? ‘In two shakes of a lamb’s tail.’ That’s pretty darn fast.”
Sarah closed her eyes. Diana sat beside her for a long time. When she was sure Sarah was asleep, Diana grabbed her purse and a piece of paper on her desk.
She went to the tiny bathroom adjoining her room and closed the door gently. On the paper was her mom’s itinerary, neatly typed by Mallory’s assistant.
Diana pulled her cell phone from her purse, dialed the number of the Beverly Hills hotel where Mallory was staying, and sat down on the floor. While she waited for them to buzz her mom, she opened the door a crack.
Sarah was sleeping soundly. Kids looked so innocent when they were asleep.
When Mallory answered, she sounded frantic and breathless. She was on her way out with some friends. She couldn’t find her left earring, the gold one with the fake emeralds, and her nails were wet and she’d put on a zillion pounds and the zipper was stuck on her Donna Karan and how was Diana doing anyway?
Diana smiled. The first five minutes of a conversation with Mallory, you didn’t have to do anything more than just utter the occasional grunt.
“I’m fine,” she said. “We got a tree. Summer picked it out. It’s slightly pathetic. Marquez and I did that charity thing I told you about. We sort of ended up temporarily adopting this little girl.”
“Whoa. Press reverse. Run that by me again?”
She’d known that would get her mother’s attention. “Just for a few days, Mallory. We’re keeping her as a favor.”
“Thank God. For a minute there I was afraid I was in danger of becoming a grandmother.”
“We’re taking her to see Santa tomorrow. Unfortunately, she’s an unbeliever.”
“You were that way. Highly skeptical. Probably got it from me. Ooh! Found it!”
“What?”
“My earring. In my shoe, believe it or not.”
Diana could hear the sound of a closet opening. Hangers clattered as her mother rifled through her clothes.
“So what do you want for Christmas?” Mallory asked. “I’ve got every boutique on Rodeo Drive at my disposal, so think big.”
“Oh, you know. Whatever you get’ll be fine.” As long as you keep the receipts, Diana added silently. “When are you coming home, anyway?”
“January fourth, I think. I’m really sorry I can’t be there, sweetie. But I’d have to jump right back on the red-eye, and it would just be crazy. And you’ll have Summer and all your friends, right?”
“Yeah, we’ll find something to do. We’re going shopping tomorrow. I have to get this kid—Sarah’s her name—some stuff.” Diana paused. “Mallory, you remember that doll you gave me one Christmas? Li’l Angel Baby or Li’l Baby Angel or whatever the hell they called her?”
“Of course I remember her. You carried that plug-ugly thing around for a year. Boy, she was homely. Tabitha, wasn’t that her name?”
“Actually, I had another name all picked out.”
“Oh? Damn this dress is tight.”
“I told you about it a zillion times. A character in one of your books, and then you forgot and—”
Diana surprised herself by the thick sound of her own voice. As if she was going to cry, almost. As if this incredibly stupid thing mattered.
“And what?” Mallory asked.
“Nothing. Look, I gotta go check on Sarah.”
“Diana? You okay?”
“Fine. Never better. Good luck with the zipper. I’ll call you on Christmas.”
“Or I’ll call you.”
“Whatever. Somebody will call somebody. Have fun tonight.”
Diana dropped the phone into her purse. She opened the door slowly. Sarah was curled up in a little ball, lost in a dream. Visions of sugarplums, wasn’t that the deal?
Lamb had dropped to the floor. Di
ana picked him up and gently placed him next to Sarah. He was going to need a name, that much was certain.
10
A Kiss is Just a Kiss
Early the next afternoon Summer paused at the bottom of the slate walkway that led to the apartment Austin and Diver shared in the quaint older section of Coconut Key. She’d walked all the way from her house, and now she was regretting it. It was hot—low ninteties—with a dry, blustery wind that had whipped her hair into permanent tangles. She was sweaty and sandy and wilted.
Not exactly the best look for a would-be-seductress. Which was, technically, what she was.
She stopped again near the porch, hiding behind some bushes. She could hear muffled voices inside. Diver would be at work, so it had to be Austin. Maybe Austin and Esme.
Summer took a deep breath. She’d had a plan, hadn’t she? The night before, as she lay wide-eyed in her bed, it had all seemed so clear. She was still in love with Austin. She couldn’t get him out of her mind. She had made her resolution that morning as she sat on the empty beach watching the sun come up: She had to tell him. She planned to march on over and give him the Big Speech, the rough outlines of which were:
“I know I said I needed to be alone, but I had to prove to myself that I could get through something scary and hard like my first semester of college solo, and when I was with you again yesterday I realized I’ve never really stopped loving you, and now I know I can handle a relationship without getting lost in it, so would you mind getting rid of Esme and kissing me right here and now? If you don’t, I may never sleep again.”
Anyway, something along those lines. Maybe something with fewer commas in it.
Somehow it had sounded a lot better during the night as she tossed and turned in her hot, twisted sheets like some character in one of her aunt’s romance novels.
At least she had an excuse for coming over if she chickened out on the Big Speech. She’d spent the morning tracking down Harris’s long-lost love. Of course, Summer could have just called Austin with an update, but then she would have missed out on the opportunity to hide in his bushes, sweaty, dirty, and lovesick.
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