“Specimens?” Seth repeated.
“Birds,” Summer said.
“Not just any birds.” Harris shook a finger at her. “Roseate spoonbills. Why don’t you point me in the right direction, Summer, dear?”
Summer’s heart was doing a nice little reggae number. How long could she stall him? What if Vera didn’t come at all? What if Austin was right and this was the most incredibly stupid idea she’d ever had in her life?
“Why don’t you take a quick tour of the house?” Marquez suggested.
“I’d love to—Marquez, was it? But first things first. I cannot wait another minute to see my spoonbills.”
All eyes were on Summer. She swallowed hard. Suddenly, looking into Harris’s sweet, hopeful eyes, she had the awful feeling that Vera was never going to come. This was not a time for miracles. This was Christmas in Florida, where it never snowed and people put lights on palm trees.
“Harris, the thing is,” Summer said slowly, “the birds aren’t exactly right here.”
“Oh?”
“No, they’re somewhere else,”
“Where, then?” he asked.
“Well, that’s a long story. …”
Austin elbowed her hard. She looked at him. He jerked his head.
Both Summer and Harris turned. An old white Cadillac was coming up the driveway.
“A friend?” Harris inquired.
“That’s what I’m hoping,” Summer said, crossing her fingers.
They watched as the car stopped. The front door slowly opened. Out stepped a striking woman, frail but elegant. Her white hair was caught up in a bun.
As she closed the car door her gaze fell on Harris. She stood very still, a quizzical expression on her delicate face.
Harris was frozen for a long moment. At last he took a step toward her. His hand was outstretched, as if he were reaching for a mirage. His fingers were trembling.
Summer felt goose bumps fan out over her body. She realized she wasn’t breathing.
Neither Harris nor Vera moved. Vera’s chin trembled. Summer could see the tears in her eyes threatening to spill over.
Summer watched in terror. The suspense was unbearable. Were those tears of joy or sadness? Was Harris trembling out of happiness or fear?
“Harris?” Vera whispered.
“Vera.”
Silence. Nothing.
No passionate embrace. No movement at all.
She’d blown it.
“Maybe you, uh, would like to … uh, sit … ,” Summer mumbled.
Nothing. No response.
“Harris,” Austin said gently. “The tent. Why don’t you go ahead and talk to Vera there?”
Harris blinked, as if awakened from a trance. He nodded. His expression was grim.
He approached Vera stiffly, arm outstretched.
She hesitated, then took his arm. Together they walked slowly toward the little yellow tent.
Neither said a word.
15
I’m Dreaming of a Wet Christmas …
Summer gazed dejectedly out the window at the torrential downpour. The little yellow tent was barely visible. “Harris and Vera have been in there two and a half hours,” she said. “I can’t stand it any longer.”
“They must have hit it off or they wouldn’t be sitting in that pathetic tent,” Marquez pointed out. “I’m surprised it hasn’t blown away yet.”
“They could be arguing,” Summer said. “Or waiting out the storm. Or … or crying.”
“Or doing it,” Seth volunteered, earning a ferocious glare from Austin.
“Seth!” Diana scolded. “Keep it G-rated. We have a kid in the house.”
“Where is Sarah, anyway?” Summer asked.
“In my bedroom, reading Seventeen. Maybe I should let her open that Dr. Seuss book early. She did ask me when Santa was bringing her mom, and I just didn’t know—” Diana was interrupted by a sharp crack of thunder. “I told her sometimes Santa gets caught in traffic, so it might be a while.”
“Crap. There’s a new leak in the kitchen,” Marquez reported, grabbing the mop. “That makes four total. We’re out of buckets.”
“This is my fault,” Seth said. “If I’d gotten hold of those shingles sooner, I could have fixed more of the roof.”
“Seth,” Summer chided, “you’re not exactly the resident handyman. It’s not your fault we rent from a slumlord.”
Sarah appeared in the bedroom doorway. “It’s raining in the bedroom,” she said softly.
“Wonderful.” Summer groaned. “I swear, it’s so dark out there, it could be night. Is this, like, the worst Christmas in history or what?”
Diver patted her on the back. “No way, Summer.”
“Yeah, maybe you’re right. It’s the worse Christmas Eve in history.”
Summer turned to Austin, who was sitting on the couch, staring at the TV. White Christmas was on without sound. At the bottom of the screen was a notice that the National Weather Service had posted a severe thunderstorm warning.
“Austin, what do you think?” Summer asked. “Should I go check on them again?”
“You already tried to eavesdrop on them once, Summer. You’re never going to hear them over the thunder. Why don’t you just chill out? They’re grown-ups.”
A blinding flash of lightning lit the dark sky, followed by thunder so loud the walls shook. Sarah ran into Diana’s arms, sobbing. The lights blinked twice, then went off, plunging the house into darkness. The TV went dead.
“Great,” Austin muttered. “Now I’ll never know how it ends.”
“It snows and everybody lives happily ever after,” Summer said. “Unlike real life.”
“I can’t see a thing,” Marquez muttered. “Where did we put those emergency candles?”
“Harris and Vera have them.”
“You guys have a flashlight, at least?” Seth asked.
“Well, sort of,” Summer replied. “We have one, but I had to borrow the batteries for the iPod speakers.”
“Which is where?” Seth asked.
“With Harris and Vera.”
“I’m thinking maybe it’s time to check up on our lovebirds,” Marquez said.
“What if they’re really mad at me?” Summer asked.
“I’ll check the circuit breakers first,” Seth volunteered. “Where are they?”
“In Diana’s closet,” Marquez said. “But you’re never going to be able to see anything, it’s so dark.”
“I have an idea.” With Sarah clinging to her hand, Diana went to her room. She returned with her Rudolph head. The red nose glowed brightly in the pitch-dark living room. “Follow me, Seth.”
“Once again,” Austin mused, “life imitates art.”
As Diana led Seth away there was a knock at the front door, barely audible over the howling storm. “Oh, God. It’s them,” Summer said.
She threw open the door. Two small, wet figures stood huddled on the porch. “May we?” Harris inquired.
“Please, come in,” Summer cried. “Look at you both! You’re soaked.”
She closed the door behind them. They stood side by side in the shadows, their faces barely visible in the occasional flash of lightning.
Everyone fell silent. The only sound was the rain, drumming on the roof and dripping musically into the buckets.
“You must be Summer,” Vera whispered.
Summer nodded, stepping closer. Vera looked very old and very frail. Worse yet, she looked terribly sad. What had Summer been thinking, playing with the emotions of an old woman this way? How could she have been so callous?
“Whose idea was this … this reunion?” Vera asked. Summer had to strain to hear her over the rain.
Summer felt as though she was going to cry. “It was all mine. Austin and Harris had nothing to with it. I’m sorry,” she said, her throat tight. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I had no right. …”
“You misguided girl,” Vera said, her voice breaking. Tears rolled down her cheeks. �
��You silly fool, meddling in the lives of two old people, playing with their feelings”
Summer bit her lip. “I’m so very sorry, Vera.”
Sobbing, Vera moved toward Summer, her hand raised. Summer tensed, waiting for the slap she knew was coming. The slap she deserved.
“Vera, Summer meant well,” Austin interjected. “She just wanted—”
The hand came down. It rested on Summer’s shoulder. Gently Vera pulled Summer close.
“You dear, silly child,” she whispered. “How am I ever going to thank you?”
As she pulled blankets from her bed to wrap around Harris and Vera, Summer found herself laughing with relief. They weren’t mad. They really weren’t mad. They were grateful to her. Harris had told her so again and again.
She bunched up the blankets and went back into the living room, where they were huddled in the darkness. She presented them to Harris, who gallantly wrapped a soft quilt around Vera’s shoulders.
Summer sighed and sat down on the floor, trying to relax her stiff muscles.
“Are you all right, dear?” Harris asked.
“I’m fine. It’s just … you and Vera were in there so long … I was so afraid.”
“We were dancing,” Vera explained. “We must have played ‘I’ll Be Seeing You’ a dozen times. That was our song, you see.”
Another shot of lightning tore the sky. A slow, awful cracking sound followed. A moment later the horrendous noise of splintering wood and shattering glass came from the direction of Diana’s bedroom.
Diana, Seth, and Sarah sprinted out of the room. “Whoa! We have a major problem!” Seth reported.
“There’s a tree in the bedroom!” Sarah cried.
“Lightning,” Diana added breathlessly. “A branch of that pine broke off and went through the window. It’s extremely wet back there. I’m going to have to buy a whole new wardrobe.”
“There’s not much we can do to fix it until the storm passes,” Seth said.
“This will never do,” Vera said. “Come with me and I’ll put you up at my bed-and-breakfast for the night. It’s just twenty minutes down the road.”
“The highway could be flooded,” Seth pointed out.
“Not any worse than this house,” Vera replied. “I will not take no for an answer. You’ll be my guests for Christmas. It’s the least I can do to repay you for your kindness.”
Summer grinned. “Well, we sure can’t stay here.”
“Austin and I can just head on back to the apartment,” Diver said.
“And leave me stranded alone on Christmas Eve?” Marquez cried. “No way!”
“Austin, how about you?” Harris asked.
“He probably has plans with Esme, Harris,” Summer said.
Austin shook his head. “She’s spending Christmas morning with her parents.”
“Come on, my boy,” Harris urged. “I’d like to have some family around for a change.”
“I just need to move some of my stuff into garbage bags so it doesn’t get any wetter,” Diana said. “And we can’t forget to bring the presents.”
“We’ll take two cars,” Vera instructed. “Why don’t one of you youngsters drive my Cadillac? I’m not much for driving in this weather.”
Seth cleared his throat. “Um, I hate to blow the party mood, but I need to head on back to town. My grandfather … I should be with him.”
“Seth!” Diana cried. “Your aunt Carol’s there. She’ll be with him. And it’s just for the night. You can drive back first thing Christmas morning.”
“I have to, Diana. It’s … you know, a family thing. You and Sarah could come over to his house, but it’s packed already.”
“Right,” Diana snapped. “Sure. Family comes first.” She shot a glance at Summer. “Somebody else will always come first.”
Seth sighed. “There’ll be other Christmases.”
“Yeah, I know. Mallory used to tell me that all the time.”
“This is not the same thing.”
“Fine, Seth.” Diana held up her hands. “Forget about it.”
Sarah tugged on Diana’s arm. “Will Santa know where to find us now?”
Diana’s lower lip trembled. She took a deep breath. “I hope so, hon,” she said softly. “But don’t count on it, okay?” She cast a dark look at Seth. “He has his good years and his bad years.”
16
Gifts
“I feel just terrible about this,” Vera said again that evening. “I had no way of knowing my manager was going to rent out those last rooms while I was away, of course. But you weren’t the only people put out by the storm. …” She wrung her hands. “And to have you end up here in the stable, of all places! Can you ever forgive me?”
“Vera, this is great,” Summer assured her. “To begin with, you fed us a fantastic dinner. And we’ve got all the comforts of home here.”
“Still, Vera fretted, “this is hardly my idea of hospitality.”
“Hmm,” Austin said, tapping his finger to his chin. “Let’s add this up. There’s no room at the inn. We’re stuck in a manger on Christmas Eve—”
“I think we can all see where you’re heading, Austin,” Marquez interrupted. “Trust me. The casting’s all wrong.”
“Let’s see. You have cots, sleeping bags, pillows,” Vera said, ticking the items off on her fingers. “And, of course, the scintillating company of our resident mare. The rain’s slowing a bit, but it’s so chilly. You think you’ll be warm enough?”
“Stop your worrying, Vera,” Harris said. “They’re kids. They’re tough.”
“I suppose so. Well, good night, then,” Vera said. She knelt down beside Sarah. “You sleep tight, sweetie,”
“Does Santa ever come here?” Sarah asked.
“Every year, like clockwork.” Vera patted Sarah’s head gently. “Now, you try to get some sleep.”
“I’ve never slept with a horse before.”
“She hardly ever snores, I promise. Would you like me to bring you one more cookie before you go to sleep?” Vera asked.
“But she already brushed her teeth,” Marquez objected. Her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, man, did I just say that? The mother disease. It’s catching! Somebody kill me before I nag again.”
“I’ll go back to the kitchen with you, Vera,” Summer volunteered. “Save you the trip.”
Sheltered by an umbrella, Harris, Vera, and Summer headed back to the inn. It was a charming old lighthouse on a small, underdeveloped key, half of which was a wildlife preserve.
The main house, a simple white Victorian, featured eight guest rooms, a cozy parlor, and a wide screened porch that overlooked the water.
“That rain is like ice,” Summer said as she stepped into Vera’s warm kitchen.
“Remarkable weather, yes,” Vera said. “But then”—she smiled at Harris—“it’s been a remarkable day all the way around, hasn’t it?” She straightened her dress. “I suppose I should see to my other guests. You help yourself to the cookies, Summer.”
Harris took a seat at the antique oak table in the center of the kitchen. “Can you spare me a minute?” he asked.
“Of course,” Summer said, joining him.
“I just wanted to—” Harris cleared his throat. “To thank you for your crazy scheme. If it hadn’t been for you, Vera and I might never have seen past our own stubbornness. I shouldn’t have let her go so easily. I was a fool. And so was Vera, come to think of it. I guess she told you the reason she vanished all those years ago.” He took off his glasses, wiping them with a white handkerchief. “As if that would have mattered! But that’s all water under the bridge, isn’t it?”
“I’m just glad it worked out, Harris. I take it this means you’ll be … seeing each other again?”
Harris gave a sly grin. He pulled out his wallet. Behind his license was a piece of gray string, tied into a small circle.
“The ring? The one you—”
“Tomorrow I intend to ask Vera for her hand in marriage,” Harri
s whispered.
Summer tried not to show her surprise. “Don’t you think maybe that’s a little bit, um, fast?”
Harris laughed as he put the string away. “You should have seen the shock on your face just now. Maybe it’s true that youth is wasted on the young. You’re so careful sometimes, as if you have all the time in the world. …” He shrugged. “Anyway, we shall see what we shall see. What’s the worst that can happen? She can’t exactly run off this time.”
“Did you tell Austin yet?”
“No.” Harris pursed his lips. “He’s rather cautious at heart. I doubt he’d approve.”
Summer nodded. “You’re probably right. He didn’t think my scheme to reunite you and Vera was such a hot idea either.”
“He’s a wonderful boy, Austin. But occasionally thoroughly wrongheaded.” Harris looked at Summer, smiling that same half smile she used to think belonged to Austin alone. “I shouldn’t ask you this. Feel free to tell me I’m a nosy old man and to go to hell.”
“After all the questions I asked you for my interview? I owe you.”
“Are you … are you in love with Austin?”
“Yes,” Summer said simply. She was surprised at how easily the answer came to her lips.
“I thought as much.”
“But I don’t think he feels the same way about me.”
Harris pushed back his chair. He walked to the window over the kitchen sink, hands clasped behind his back. The rain beat softy, relentlessly.
“There’s a reason Austin is keeping his distance from you, Summer,” Harris said, his back to her.
“Esme?”
He gave a short laugh. “No. Esme is just a distraction. A diversionary tactic. I suspect he wants no more from her than what she wants from him.”
“She’s some diversion.”
“I’m going to tell you something now,” Harris said. “It’s not my place. I probably shouldn’t. But today, thanks to you, I’m feeling like all things are possible. And that is a gift that I would like to try to return.”
Slowly Harris turned to face her. His eyes were wet and filled with an awful, desperate pain. “It’s about Austin and about Austin’s dad.”
Summer felt a cold knot tighten in her chest. She thought of the times Austin had talked about his dad, of how unreachable and alone he had always seemed at those moments. She thought of the terrified look she’d seen in his eyes.
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