“You’re right,” Joe went on. “We can’t look backwards forever. The past shouldn’t be the way we frame our lives. You know that more than anyone. The present and the future...well, those are up to us.”
A half-hour later, Summer stood on the sidewalk and waved as Joe pulled away from the diner. Stay in Whispering Pines? Help open a museum and take over teaching at the college? No way. She had an entire life on the other side of the country. She couldn’t just give that all up.
Could she?
Summer turned toward the center of town, glad she’d left her car a few blocks away. The walk will do me good. She kept her gaze straight ahead while a thousand thoughts slipped in and out of her mind. Gabe. The accident. Her brother. Damian. The house. The present. The past. Then back again to Damian. His touch. His smile. His fingers interlaced with hers.
She’d almost reached the public parking lot when a strange man stopped her. “Excuse me.” All her fantasies fled in an instant. Clad in work clothes and heavy boots, the man leaned against the front of Flo’s Fold ’n Fluff with the stub of a cigarette in his fingers.
“Ah, yes?”
He stomped out his butt with a dirty toe. She didn’t know him, had never seen him around town. Of course, a lot of people had moved here in the last ten years, so that didn’t mean much. From the way he was dressed, she guessed he was probably working on one of the many housing developments going up around Whispering Pines and Silver Valley. Or maybe one of the never-ending road construction projects.
Despite his garb, the man was handsome, with a muscular build and steel-colored eyes that crinkled at the corners. He crossed his arms, cocked his head and ran his tongue over his bottom lip. “Can I ask you a favor? I’m lookin’ for an address. Old buddy of mine.”
“Um...sure.” I haven’t lived here in a really long time, she was about to say, so I’m not sure I can help you, but then he went on.
You know the way to Red Barn Road?”
“Sure. That’s about the one place I do know.”
“I’m just in town for a couple of days, trying to look up a friend.” He held out a hand. “Name’s Theo.”
Summer took it and squeezed for a quick moment. “Hi. Who’s your friend?” Maybe it was one of the neighbors down the road from her place. She hadn’t met them all, though she’d been meaning to stop in and say hello.
“You gotta name?” he asked without answering. He ran his other hand over gelled hair.
“Um...Summer.” Suddenly uncomfortable, she backed up a step.
Nodding, he let his gaze drop to her waist and back up again.
“Here, let me write down the directions for you,” she said, digging into her purse for a pen and trying to finish the conversation.
“Don’t bother. I remember everything.” Theo stuffed his hands into his pockets and waited.
“Oh.” Her hand dropped. “Okay. Turn right at the end of this block, onto Main Street. Follow Main out of town. Turn right onto Hanford, then a quick left onto Red Barn. It’s about a mile or so past the ball fields.”
Theo’s lips moved, and he repeated her directions under his breath. “Got it.” In the moment before he disappeared, his eyes seemed to change, to turn gray and cold. “Thanks for the directions.”
Chapter Twenty-seven
The following afternoon, Summer slipped into the master bedroom and peeled off her shorts and tank top. She stepped into the adjoining bathroom, completely finished now, and ran a washcloth over her face and under her arms. She hadn’t seen Damian in more than passing the last two days, but she wouldn’t lie: she still felt as though she might break whenever he looked her way. She still felt shaken up and fizzed over when she replayed their kisses in her head, as though no one had ever kissed her before.
I want more.
I want him.
Before I leave.
It was as simple and as difficult as that. She had no business asking him to give her another chance, or even a single night alone, but oh how she wanted to ask, all the same.
She pulled on a pale blue sundress and brushed her hair. In bare feet, she walked out onto the front porch. Beautifully refinished, its cherry steps and railing gleamed in the late afternoon sun. She smiled and looked around. She’d promised to meet Dinah for a tea party at four o’clock sharp. At least her friendship with the young girl hadn’t slipped away these last few days as well.
“Summer?”
She waved as Dinah appeared at the edge of the property. Dinah waved in return, though one hand remained behind her thin back. She skipped across the lawn and took the long way around the tall oak tree. Under its branches, she got tangled up and had to stop for a moment. Summer laughed. Finally Dinah slowed and climbed the porch steps, out of breath. At the top, she pulled her hand from behind her back.
“Here.” Dinah presented her with a fistful of wildflowers. The stems were still damp. Purples and yellows and pinks poked out in all directions.
Summer took the bouquet and felt a tightness in her chest. “These are for me? Thank you, sweetie. They’re beautiful.” An odd lump rose into the center of her throat.
Dinah beamed. Her gangly legs stuck out from her denim shorts, and her elbows were scuffed with grass stains. Her laugh and her strong jawline reminded Summer so much of Damian. Only their eyes are different. Unlike his dark blue ones, which matched the color of Whispering Pines Lake at dusk, Dinah’s were a deep brown, almost ebony, and her lashes endless.
She crouched to a seat beside Summer. “The porch looks really good.”
Summer laid the flowers on her lap and ran one hand along the smooth wooden step. “Yes, it does. Your brother did a wonderful job.”
Damian and Mac had finished the front porch last weekend. Dinah was right: it looked good. Actually, it looked more than good. It looked magnificent. The wide steps, the intricate carvings at the tops of the columns, the long lines of the porch as it stretched from end to end of the house—it almost took Summer’s breath away. She’d gotten so used to entering and exiting through the kitchen door that she’d almost forgotten about the front. This entrance seemed too fine to use everyday. She glanced behind her. Yesterday the double front doors that her father had special-ordered from Chicago had arrived, and Damian had stayed late to hang them. The entire façade of the house was complete.
Dinah leaned against Summer’s knee, and Summer found herself rubbing the girl’s back. Her fingers felt every bump in Dinah’s spine. Skin and bones. I used to be exactly the same way. Skinny as the day was long, she hadn’t blossomed until tenth grade, when all the other girls—the Hadleys, anyway, and their friends, the girls who really mattered—had been wearing size 34B bras for years, along with miniskirts that showed off womanly hips and thighs. Summer, on the other hand, had stared into the mirror every day from the moment she turned thirteen, wishing on the stars for curves in the right places. She hoped fate would be a little kinder to Dinah. Sometimes nature wasn’t very nice.
Summer bent down and whispered into the girl’s ear. “I have a surprise for you.”
“What is it?”
“It’s upstairs. It’s a secret.” And really, it was. Summer had discovered it just that afternoon, while wandering through the east wing of the third floor. The guys hadn’t tackled that floor yet, because it needed the least amount of work.
Dinah followed her upstairs, one small hand in Summer’s. The sun slanted across the floor and Summer wondered again about the people who’d lived here all those years ago. Along this hallway, a smooth groove had been worn in the wood. A chip nicked the otherwise clean lines of the wall. A crack worked it way down the length of the banister. Marks from another lifetime, kind of like the ones that scar your heart across the decades.
“Here.” At the back of the far bedroom, Summer slid her fingers along the wall until they found a seam. She reached up with one hand, down with the other, and pushed. A door slipped open.
Dinah’s jaw dropped. “What’s that?”
A r
ound window at the back of the space cast a thin line of sun into the shadows. Summer had tested the floorboards earlier. Though dusty and warped, they held solid. “It’s a secret room.”
In her youth she’d heard stories about this house harboring fugitives on the Underground Railroad. Though pretty far north, the town of Whispering Pines would have made a good final stop for slaves fleeing to Canada. She looked around the room. If it were true, she’d just uncovered a gold mine in the eyes of potential buyers. Most homes that could prove a connection to that historic period were listed on national registries, protected and valued far above regular market price. She’d have to do a little more digging downtown and see what she could find out.
“Neat, isn’t it?”
The ceiling slanted as it met the eaves. From the outside, Summer suspected, it would look as though this back bedroom simply extended the full space; since the hideaway was merely ten square feet, the naked eye would never be able to tell the difference. A familiar thrill coursed through her. She loved discoveries. She loved history that took shape in actual things, wood and stone you could put your hands on. She’d spent her life researching places like this. To own a piece of the nineteenth century, even for a few weeks, thrilled her.
Dinah wandered from one end of the room to the other. She ran her fingers over some ancient marks carved into the wood. “Did people live in here?”
Summer cocked her head. Ten might be a little young to be hearing about the cruel side of the slave trade. “More like kids played in here. Hid from their parents. Made up stories and games on rainy days.”
Dinah grinned. “Like me.”
“Just like you.” Summer rubbed the dust from the streaked glass window. From here she could make out a square of grass and an arc of sky. Something like a chill passed along her arms. Yes, history had taken its toll here. She could feel it.
“I like it,” Dinah said from behind her.
“Me too.”
“Can it be just our secret?”
“Absolutely.” She dropped a kiss onto the top of Dinah’s head. “And now I think it’s about time for our tea party.” They slipped back into the bedroom, and Summer’s lungs expanded with fresh air. She wondered if she’d made a mistake, showing the claustrophobic space to the little girl.
But Dinah giggled as they descended the stairs, and the secret room seemed long forgotten by the time they reached the first floor. She peeked over her shoulder at Summer. “I invited someone else.”
“You did? Who?”
But when they stepped onto the porch, she had her answer. Twenty yards away, Damian was grilling burgers on a portable grill, stainless steel and shiny in the sun. She’d never seen it before. He looked over at her and smiled. Butterflies swooped inside her stomach. He lifted the grill cover, and trails of smoke escaped, floating up to the sky.
“They’re done,” he said.
“I’ll get the salad,” Dinah piped up.
Salad? Summer looked from the girl to her brother and back again.
“Dinah, go wash your hands at the hose out back first,” Damian said.
“She doesn’t have to use the hose.” Summer laughed. “Come inside and use my bathroom.”
“Okay.” Dinah skipped inside.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Damian said.
“She’s a girl,” Summer said. “She shouldn’t have to use the hose the way you guys do.” She crossed her arms and made a face. “Savages.”
Damian laughed out loud and his dimples winked in the sun. She loved the way it sounded, carefree and full, from way down deep in his belly.
“Yup, that’s me. Guess I’ll go clean up out back, then,” he said, “with the other savages.”
Summer dropped her arms. “I was kidding,” she said, but he’d already rounded the house. She walked inside instead.
Dinah stood in the doorway to Summer’s bedroom, cheeks pink. “Summer?”
“What’s up, ladybug?” Adopting the nickname she’d heard Damian use, she slung an arm around the girl’s shoulders. Dinah wrapped her own arm around Summer’s waist, and together they walked into the kitchen.
“Do you like my brother?” she asked.
Summer pulled open the refrigerator door. Inside sat a wooden salad bowl, overflowing with greens. When did they plan this? She saw a plate of homemade chocolate chip cookies and wondered if Hannah were in on the secret tea party-slash-BBQ dinner as well. She bumped the door closed with her hip. “Of course I like your brother, sweetheart. Why?” She steadied her voice.
Dinah studied her with thoughtful eyes. “I think you should be his girlfriend.”
Summer kept her face averted as she rummaged in a drawer for some utensils. “Oh, honey, I can’t be Damian’s girlfriend.”
“Why not?”
How did she answer that? “Well, I don’t live here, remember? I’m only in town for a little while.”
“Maybe you could move here,” Dinah said, eyes wide and hopeful.
Now even a little girl was trying to convince her to stay in Whispering Pines. Summer’s cheeks flushed. “It’s a little more complicated than that,” she said, even as a voice in the back of her mind was wondering how complicated it was, when she had a past and friends and a guy she could fall for if she let herself.
“Your brother and I are good friends,” Summer said, interrupting the voice, “and that’s better than being boyfriend and girlfriend, because friends can be friends for a very long time. Even if they don’t always live in the same town.” She hoped a ten-year-old couldn’t read her face the way her twenty-six-year-old brother could.
Summer found some paper plates and napkins and hefted the salad bowl under one arm. Through the back windows she could see Damian rinsing off his arms and face. He’d removed his T-shirt, and his broad, bare chest glistened with heat and wetness. Water flew everywhere as the hose snaked through his hands. Summer almost dropped the salad tongs.
“Do you think you would be Damian’s girlfriend if you lived in Whispering Pines for real?” Dinah followed Summer back through the house and out onto the porch.
“You have a lot of questions today.”
“Dame says it’s good to ask questions,” Dinah retorted as she laid the cookies on a paper plate. “It means you’re smart.”
“Well, your brother is right,” Summer said, “but—”
“Right about what?” Damian scooped up the burgers onto paper plates, handed them to Summer and Dinah and joined them.
“Nothing. Your sister and I were having a girls’ talk, that’s all.”
Dinah beamed and inched as close to Summer as she could without actually climbing into her lap. For a while, the three ate without speaking as the last rays of sun glowed down on them. Summer glanced at brother and sister. Even the way Damian and Dinah crossed their legs and balanced their plates on one knee matched. A sudden sadness seized her.
I miss you so much, Donny.
“That’s Mom,” Damian said when a horn beeped. He glanced down at his watch. “Time for you to go, ladybug.” His gaze lifted and locked with Summer’s.
Dinah helped herself to two cookies. “Okay.” She reached over and hugged Summer. “Bye.”
Summer’s heart warmed at the embrace. “Bye, sweetheart. Tell your mom I said hi, okay? I’ll see you soon.”
“Okay.” Dinah skipped down the steps. An unruly ponytail bobbed at the back of her neck as she ran across the lawn. “Hi, Mom.” Her faint voice floated on the air and was lost in the rumbling of the engine. A door creaked open and then slammed shut. The car pulled away from the curb, and they were gone.
Damian turned to Summer and cocked a brow. “So it looks like you’re officially alone with me.”
Chapter Twenty-eight
Summer sat on the top step and stared into the sky. After his teasing comment, Damian had disappeared inside, but she didn’t really mind. She needed a few minutes to collect herself and calm her racing pulse. She could still smell his cologne in the air and
feel the warmth of his body only inches away.
She inhaled, taking in a good long breath of clear Whispering Pines air. This, she would miss. The air and the view of the stars at night. A San Francisco skyline could never take the place of bright white dots in the black above you. She raised one finger and moved it through the growing darkness, tracing the constellations she knew so well. Wrapping her arms around her knees, she peered again toward the street. Nothing but faint street lights winked back.
“You’re quiet,” Damian said when he returned.
“Just thinking about how good this place looks,” she lied. “About how much you and Mac have done this summer.”
“Well, we had some help. But my mom says the same thing.” He sat beside her. “She loves coming over here.”
“She’s terrific. She has so many ideas for the house. We were talking about the bedrooms upstairs, and the library...” Summer didn’t speak for a few seconds. “It’s meant a lot to me, to spend time with your mother and Dinah. To feel like I belong here.”
“They both think you’re great.”
Summer reached over and laid a hand on his arm. “And you. I like spending time with you.” She left her hand there, and he laid his own on top of it.
“What about Gabe?” His voice was husky with the question.
“What about him?”
“You get things sorted out?”
“I think so.”
“I hope so.” He laced his fingers through hers.
Kiss me. Do more than kiss me. She could lean over, and her mouth would meet his. Just a few inches, and she could lose herself inside his touch. But he didn’t move closer, and she didn’t dare. She couldn’t start something, could she? Not if she was planning on selling the house and going back to San Francisco.
“Do you think you’ll ever build your own place?” she asked instead. “You’re good at it.”
Second Chance Summer Page 15
