The Summers

by Iva-Marie Palmer

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe that you’re just jealous because Ryan actually loves me, and he never loved you. Not even once in all those summers. He told me so,” I said.

  “Are you delusional? Ryan and I were a summer thing. I’ve been with Devin for two years. And, maybe you haven’t noticed, but we’re getting married.”

  “You don’t even love Devin.” I was in Eliza’s face now, and the words were flowing freely. “Everyone can see it but you. Those vows you gave me, they might as well be a pizza order. I’ve had deeper feelings for mushrooms.”

  “Oh God. I don’t have time for this. If you’re trying to ruin my wedding, keep up the great work.” Eliza spun away from me and huffed into the store.

  I was left feeling more dressed-down than when I’d arrived. I knew I had to go inside, put on a good face, and be the maid of honor, but first I had to get myself together. I leaned against the side of the building to close my eyes and take a few deep breaths. One . . . two . . . thre—

  “You left this in the car.”

  I opened my eyes to see Ryan holding my cell phone out to me. Seeing his face was such a relief.

  “I just had the worst fight with Eliza,” I said. I didn’t want to tell him the gist of it. I didn’t even want to comment on the ridiculous point Eliza had made about us being nothing more than a summer fling.

  “I know. I heard.” His tone was flat. He couldn’t even look me in the eye.

  I panicked, trying to replay the argument in my head. What had he heard?

  “I know I said some ugly things, but . . . I was enraged after Eliza called us a summer fling,” I explained. I hated that he’d overheard us airing all our dirty laundry, but he had to know that I’d wanted to stick up for him—for us.

  “That didn’t bother me so much. It’s her opinion,” he said. “But I told you I loved you, and you immediately turned it around to use against your sister.”

  Oh God. I sucked in a breath as the truth of his words hit me. I had done just that, hadn’t I? I’d taken a gift from Ryan and used it as a blunt object to hurt my sister.

  “I . . . I was so mad. I just. It was stupid. It was wrong.” I scoured my brain for the right words, but they didn’t come.

  “You know, maybe Eliza is right. Maybe I am just some summer fling. Or some kind of trophy in a contest you think you’re having with your sister.”

  My eyes filled with tears, but I didn’t let them spill over. I had no idea what to say.

  “Here’s your phone.” He handed it to me, still looking away. “I didn’t mean to look at it, but you had a message. From Matt.”

  I looked down at the screen. Sure enough, there was a text from Matt, whom I hadn’t talked to in weeks. It read, “Hey K, Keeping the weekend open. Give me a shout if you still need me to come be your date.”

  I felt sick. If only Ryan and I had stayed in bed this morning, like I’d wanted to, maybe none of this would have happened.

  “Isn’t that your ex?” Ryan said. “The Stanford guy? Would you rather go with him?”

  I shook my head, looking at Ryan. “You’re my date,” I said. “I had told him earlier in the summer I might want him to come with me, but that was months ago—before anything happened with us.”

  “But you kept him waiting in the wings, just in case you decided to end your summer fling early?” Ryan looked at me sadly. “I mean, you still have time to change your mind.”

  “No, and you know you’re who I want to be with.” This was so screwed up. And it was all my fault. Why hadn’t I just told Matt the truth about my relationship with Ryan? Why was I determined to mess things up? “Look, can we not do this right now?” I rubbed the back of my hand against my eyelids. “I screwed up. I know I did. But you’re my date, if you’ll go with me. So can we talk later?”

  Ryan nodded slowly, turning away from me without a second glance. “Sure, later.”

  I hoped he meant it.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  THE NEXT DAY brought the rehearsal dinner and my complete and utter contrition. I wanted to apologize to everyone. To Ryan, for leveling his “I love you” at my sister. For not making it clear to Matt sooner that our wedding plans were off. To Eliza, for what I’d said about her and Devin. I’d taken two of the most important people in my life for granted, in different ways, and now I felt like I’d lost both of them at once.

  In hopes of that, I’d spent all of last night trying to come up with brilliant vows for Eliza. I had a start, though they weren’t perfect. My plan was to get her alone at the dinner and try to work through them together, which I hoped would also help us work out our issues.

  For now, though, I slugged some white wine and chatted up out-of-town relatives. I was trying to be a buffer for my dad, who could only take so many concerned stares and lowered-voice intonations of the question, “How have you been?” It was always asked in a way that implied the last three words, “without your wife.”

  “Where’s the groom?” My aunt Betty, a flirt even in her seventies, scanned the room.

  I gestured for Becca. “Know where Devin is?” I said. The reception room at the Chatham Bars Inn was packed with people who’d flown in for the weekend.

  “I saw him with his sister a minute ago.” Becca had brought Garrett and was proudly introducing them to our relatives. Though I’d brought Ryan, things were still icy between us. We hadn’t had a chance to talk as I was too caught up trying to be as maid-of-honor-y as possible.

  Ryan had excused himself from my side to hang out with Morrison, who would be running the sound system during the beach ceremony. I knew I had to get Ryan alone at some point, to properly apologize, but I hoped in the meantime that some unwinding with his friend would put him in a better mood.

  “Can you ask Eliza?” I was doing my best to be patient with Becca, who had seemed to make Garrett’s comfort her priority for the evening. It was sweet, but I needed her on sister duty.

  “She won’t know,” piped up Tea, behind me. “She’s been bonding with family at the bar all night.” The hint of concern beneath her chipper tone was probably only apparent to me.

  Sure enough, Eliza was with our cousins from California, all of them toasting something with shots. Eliza tipped hers back like a pro and I could tell she was drunk by her sway when she slammed her shot glass down on the bar.

  “Ugh, probably because she’s still mad at me,” I muttered under my breath.

  “For what?” Tea asked. She fussed with the top of her sundress, even though it fit her perfectly.

  “Nothing, never mind.” I had to give Eliza credit. She hadn’t ratted me out to our little sisters or so much as twitched half a dirty look at me during the fitting.

  Instead, I found Devin on my own. He was a good sport, playing along even when my aunt Betty commented on the cuteness of his butt and went in for a squeeze.

  “So do you work out, or is naturally round?” Aunt Betty giggled as Devin leaned toward me, his face a little desperate.

  “Hey, if you get a chance, can you tell Eliza I’d really like her to meet my uncle Seamus? He’s in from Ireland and he can’t wait to be introduced.” Devin sighed, looking toward the bar, where Eliza was laughing loudly at something our cousin Joey had said. “I think I’ve been stressing her out, but maybe if you say something.”

  Fat chance, I thought, but I knew Devin’s request was a good excuse to at least talk to Eliza. “Absolutely,” I said. “I just need to ask the photographer for a few shots that were on Eliza’s list, and then I’ll pass on the message.”

  “Okay, in the meantime, I’ll watch my ass,” Devin said. “Literally. Your aunt Betty’s a trip.”

  “Yeah, don’t let her get you alone,” I teased.

  Eliza seemed to have forgotten that she’d wanted some rehearsal dinner photos in the hotel’s am
azing gardens. She thought it would give the photographer more time to snap candids at the wedding if all the posed pictures of out-of-town guests were out of the way.

  Since she didn’t seem like she was going to ensure it happened, I thought I’d remember for her. It would be one more way to show her that I did care about her wedding and had been paying attention all summer.

  I made my way around the room, stopping to hug and greet family I hadn’t seen in forever. The last time I’d been around most of these people had probably been my mom’s funeral. She was an only child and her closest relatives were cousins she’d grown up with on the West Coast, so they didn’t exactly make the trip east often. It wasn’t as bad as I’d thought it would be. Everyone seemed to know to keep the talk about the wedding; they didn’t need to mention my mom because they knew we were thinking of her. How could we not have been? She should have been here.

  At the bar, Ryan and Morrison had joined Eliza and my cousins. I tried to catch his eye, but he shifted so that his back was toward me. Ugh, I would have to deal with him later. Later. Later. Later. I had a lot to do later.

  Finally, I spotted the photographer talking to my uncle Roger, my dad’s brother. Uncle Roger was the kind of person who, as soon as he spotted some article of technology, would ask its owner dozens of questions about it even if he didn’t know what he was saying.

  “And do you think the pixel quality is adequate?” He was pointing at the camera’s display as the photographer tried to politely consider the question.

  “I’m not sure what you mean,” she said. “I mean, I always download the raw files and then work with them from there. For the best quality.”

  As I approached, the photographer beamed. “Hi there, do you need something?” Her eyes seemed to say, I’ll do anything as long as I can get back to work.

  “Hi, Uncle Roger,” I said. “I just need to borrow Sarah now to get some shots Eliza wanted.” Uncle Roger gave me a chagrined look as I pulled the photographer aside. I’d just sent her off with instructions when Devin resurfaced.

  “Hey, I’m sorry to bug you, but did you have a chance to talk to Eliza?” he asked. “I think we’re all going to sit down and eat soon and my guess is Uncle Seamus will be too tired from the flight to stick around much later. He’s no Aunt Betty.”

  “So sorry, but I haven’t gotten a chance yet,” I said. “But I will right now, I promise.”

  “You’re a star, Kate. Thanks and sorry to be so pushy. It’s just that at the wedding tomorrow I doubt they’ll be able to really talk.”

  “You know I’m happy to,” I said. Beneath Devin’s polite inquiries was a touch of sadness. I didn’t think the night was going the way he’d hoped. I really wanted it to, for both his and Eliza’s sakes. Yes, the rehearsal dinner was partly about Eliza and him getting to spend time with people they hadn’t seen in a long time, but wasn’t it also about them doing it together? I wanted to tell him things would be fine at, or at least after, the wedding tomorrow, but it didn’t seem like my place. I wasn’t exactly the love expert lately, either.

  I headed into the main reception room, my heart thudding nervously. Knowing that I’d have to approach Ryan and Eliza at the same time was a less-than-ideal scenario. I hoped that after I ripped off the first Band-Aid, it would be easier to do the next. I’d find Eliza, apologize, take her to meet Uncle Seamus, and ask for some time tonight to go over her vows. Then I’d go back for Ryan.

  But the bar was emptied out when I got there, save for Morrison, who was chatting with my cousin Kira.

  “Kate,” he said. “Great party. And your family’s nice, too.” His wide grin took up most of his narrow face.

  “Aren’t they?” I smiled at Kira, who also had a happy flush, and seemed to be enjoying Morrison’s company. “Hey, have you seen Eliza?”

  He nodded. “She and Ryan were here and I think they took off, looking for you, maybe? Or something about checking on the food? I don’t know.”

  Eliza and Ryan had been looking for me together? That was definitely strange, but maybe boded well for my apology plans. It was nice to know that Ryan still cared enough to help make sure dinner was perfect. I left the reception room and headed toward the hotel kitchens.

  “Remember how it used to be?” came a voice that sounded like Eliza’s. As I walked down the hall, I peered left, where the small ladies’ lounge was partially open.

  “Eliza?” I called.

  “Don’t you miss it?” Eliza was slurring. Who was she talking to?

  I pried the door open the rest of the way. The lights were off and the room was dim, but there was no mistaking Ryan’s silhouette. I could see his shadow, his back resting against the wall, and the light from the hall spilled onto my sister, who leaned against him, her arms looped possessively around his shoulders. She leaned in toward him—toward his lips.

  “Kate—” Ryan straightened when he saw me, prying himself out of her arms.

  “Kate?” Eliza said, scrambling away from him.

  But I was dumb little Katie again, and I was leaving. I ran back down the hall, cursing that the only exit was through the reception room. I clipped past Devin and an old man who had to be his uncle.

  “What happened?” Devin asked as I ran past. “Did you find Eliza?”

  I couldn’t look at him. “Go see for yourself,” I shouted back, not stopping. In ten breaths, I was out of the hotel and into the night before anyone could stop me.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  THE SUN WAS coming up, and I didn’t care. I wanted to go to California right now, where people watched the sun set, instead of watching it rise. I was done with summer.

  Carrier’s Bluff, just a little ways up the beach from where Ryan and I had had our first picnic, had been my mom’s favorite spot to paint. Even though I knew time had changed the coastline, both in ways natural and man-made, I felt like I’d stepped inside one of my mom’s paintings. You could sense my mom in them, could feel her joy in each stroke, could imagine her heart filling as the light flickered over the water. She was gone, though.

  Her joy and her love were, of course, always with us—I knew that was what I was supposed to think. But the people who said those things had never lost anyone. The truth was, when someone was gone, they were gone. Coming to their favorite places, you could have moments where you thought they might suddenly appear, like they’d be waiting for you. But they never did. They weren’t. The things you wanted their help sorting out were all yours to bear.

  The only person I wanted to talk to was my mom. I wasn’t looking for her to make it all better, or to fix it. I knew what she’d say: that life was hard and full of hurts and even the people who were supposed to be on our side sometimes weren’t. She was realistic that way.

  It struck me that, maybe, in a way, she was here. I knew what she’d say, and I knew that somehow, eventually, no matter what had passed between us, I’d come out the other side with Eliza.

  Not anytime soon, of course, but we would. I couldn’t imagine my life without my sister in it. Maybe we’d never fully recover, but we’d be in each other’s lives.

  Ryan was a different story. It seemed like he’d gone out of his way to hurt me, driving a knife into my heart and then twisting it so that there was no way I could yank it out. I wasn’t as sure what my mom would say about that. I had a feeling her advice would be to give it time, and eventually my heart would heal itself.

  I knew I should start the walk back soon, before the beaches were brimming with people and the whole world saw a messed-up ex-maid-of-honor dragging herself home. My feet were dirty from running and the dress I’d worn to the rehearsal dinner was ruined. I had my useless clutch, containing just a lipstick and the folded vows—my phone wouldn’t fit. It wasn’t like I wanted to call anyone to come get me, but I had to get back eventually, even if the wedding was off. I had a feeling it would be. I didn’t see how Eliza cou
ld have worked her way out of what had happened last night, if she even wanted to.

  I took one last, long look at the ocean. The sun was up overhead and I felt especially warm beneath it. “I miss you, Mom,” I said over the bluff. Even though no one said anything back to me, for the shortest of seconds, I could feel her next to me.

  When I turned around, my eyes still squinting away the morning sun, I saw a figure in front of me that looked just like my mother. I knew, of course, that it wasn’t. I knew instantly that it was Eliza.

  Before I could walk past her, before I could surface the angry words I wanted to, I heard myself saying, “How did you find me?” Down the road, I could see the car idling, my father, Becca, and Tea inside.

  “It was Mom’s favorite spot,” she said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world that I’d choose it. “We were looking for you all night but in the back of my head, I knew you’d come here. Everyone said that I was crazy, since you didn’t take the car. You ran, didn’t you?” She took in my wrecked dress and bedraggled appearance and sighed, like she wanted to take all the blame for it.

  I shrugged. “It’s only six miles. I’ve done more.”

  Eliza looked past me, toward the water. Her eyes were red and puffy. Her engagement ring was gone. For as disheveled as I was, she looked like she felt worse. She looked tired and small.

  I let myself be a little less mad at her.

  Eliza sat down in the sand, folding her legs up to her chest with her chin on her knees. “Stay with me,” she said. “Please.”

  I’d been there all night, so what was a little longer? I crouched back down into the sand, and this time, I noticed how tired and sore I was. It hadn’t registered before. The anger had kept my body coiled and unyielding and now exhaustion set in.