Beach Blondes: June Dreams, July's Promise, August Magic (Summer) (26 page)

Diana climbed to her feet. “Well, then I guess I’ll just have to buy one. Which means I’ll drive you to the mall. Give me a minute to change. If you want, we can take Mallory’s Mercedes. The keys are on a hook in the pantry. Why don’t you two get it out of the garage and put the top down.”

“How does she manage to do that?” Marquez asked Summer. “Make us feel like we’re her servants.”

“Or you can walk to the mall,” Diana said over her shoulder. “It’s only like twenty miles.”

Diana changed quickly into a patterned sarong skirt and a white top. She was on her way out of the house when the phone rang. She picked it up in her mother’s office.

“Yes.”

Her heart sank as she recognized her mother’s voice. “Diana, I can’t believe you’re there. I expected to get the machine.”

“Sorry to disappoint you. You’re not back, are you?”

“No, honey, I’m in Sacramento. California. Don’t even ask. They’ve extended the tour, and I have to go on talking about this silly book for another week.”

Diana breathed a sigh of relief. It was a reprieve. So much had gotten tied up in her mind with the return of her mother. Another week to decide what to do. “Well, I guess I’ll survive.”

“I know
you’ll
survive. How is Summer?”

Diana rolled her eyes. “She’s fine. As a matter of fact, I’m taking her shopping. The stilt house is almost all fixed up.”

Diana heard the honking of the Mercedes’s horn outside and the faint sound of Marquez shouting something impatient. “She’s waiting. I better go.”

“Okay. You still have my ATM card and the credit cards?”

“No, I’ve been supporting myself by picking up sailors.”

Her mother made a phony laugh. “That would be unusually outgoing for you, Diana. It’s nice to know you’re meeting people.”

“Uh-huh. Are we done?”

“Yes. Buy something nice for Summer, a gift from me. And get something for yourself, too.”

Diana hung up the phone, seething as she did after almost any interaction with her mother. Her gaze fell on a small framed photograph on her mother’s desk. It showed Mallory, back before she’d become a big success, back when her hair was still normal-size, before it had become romance-writer hair. She’d never noticed the picture before. In it, her mother seemed unusually frumpy. And it wasn’t even a good picture, all fuzzy and off-center.

Then it occurred to Diana that the picture was there for a reason. This was Mallory’s “before” picture. It was to remind her of what she had been and what she had become. On the wall, much larger, gilt-framed, was the publicity shot from her mother’s first bestseller. A whole new Mallory Olan.

Before and after.

Diana could imagine her own “before” picture. It would be a picture of her now. Right now.
This
was the before.

Suddenly she took out her mother’s address book. The number was bound to be there still. They’d done a little puff piece interview with Mallory…yes. There it was.

She could do it. She could do it right now. The idea excited her in a dark, unsettling way. Yes, why wait any longer?

It was all so new. The entire concept of doing anything at all was new. It had been so long. So much time had passed when all she had managed to do was wallow in depression and dream of how she would end her suffering.

Some new energy was inside her now. She could feel it. But it was fragile force, like a single candle in the darkness. She wanted to nurture that candle, keep it safe from blowing winds that might snuff it out.

Start it now.

The great dark hole of depression was still there, still tangible and real and oddly seductive. Against it just the one small light. She had to make it grow, give it air and fuel. To let the fire burn brighter and hotter, until it dispelled the last of the shadows.

Yes, start it
now.

She checked the number again. But she didn’t dial it. Instead she called a different number. Area code 202, Washington, D.C.

She took a deep breath. “Start it, Diana,” she ordered herself sternly. “Do it now, or you’ll find one excuse after another never to start.”

She dialed the phone number. There was a delay, then it rang.

Click.

“Senator Merrick’s office.”

“I wan—” Diana’s voice choked off. She almost crashed the receiver down in panic but stopped herself. She cleared her throat. “I want to speak to Senator Merrick.”

“I’m sorry, but the senator cannot take calls. I’ll be glad to take a message.”

“No,” Diana said sharply. “He will want to take this call himself. It’s personal. It’s about his son.”

A long pause. “Who’s calling?”

“My name is Diana Olan. Tell Senator Merrick to take this call. Or—” She hesitated. Her prepared speeches all sounded silly now. Like something a child would dream up. “Look, tell him if he doesn’t want his son to go to jail, he’d better take this call.”

An even longer pause. Then, “Please hold.”

Outside, the car horn honked again, more insistent. Diana could picture Marquez and Summer out there, playing the stereo, talking away, getting annoyed that Diana was keeping them waiting.

And she could picture another scene, over a thousand miles away in Washington. She imagined a dark, paneled office. Maybe the Washington Monument was visible from the window. Maybe—

“Who is this?” A brusque, haughty voice, instantly recognizable.

“Senator Merrick?”

“Yes. Now, what do you have to say? I’m a busy man.”

“Your son tried to rape me.” The words came tumbling out, all of their own accord.

“Don’t waste my time. I’m hanging up.”

“I’ll go to the police,” Diana said.

“Do whatever you think you have to do, young lady,” he said calmly. He even sounded a little bored.

But no, he wasn’t bored, Diana knew. “Senator, your son Ross tried to rape me in your Crab Claw Key home last year. I know you heard about it. I know Adam told you what happened. That’s why you put Ross through rehab.”

“I know who you are, Diana. But I thought you were a smart girl,” he said contemptuously. “I thought you knew better than to try to blackmail me.”

“It isn’t blackmail,” Diana said. “I’m just…It’s just that…I’m tired of being afraid.”

“No one has tried to threaten you,” he said. “You invent some incident and call me up—”

“I didn’t invent anything and you know it!” Diana cried.

“So, you have witnesses? The police will want to know if you have witnesses.”

“I realize that, Senator. I know the police will want witnesses. And I know Adam will lie to protect Ross. But you know what? I figured something out. The police may want witnesses, but there are other people who may not care all that much whether I have a witness or not.”

“I think this conversation has gone on long enough.”

“I have a number I want to give you. Write it down. And when you hang up, call them.” Diana read off the phone number. At the other end she could hear a pen scratching on paper.

“Call that number, Senator Merrick. And then I want to meet with you, face-to-face, down here.”

“What is this number supposed to be?” the senator demanded.

“It’s the number for
Inside Edition.
You know, the tabloid show. The one that would be really interested in this kind of a story.”

The only sound was that of a breath, sharply inhaled, then let out slowly, shakily.

“All right, young lady,” the senator said at last. “You want a meeting? I’ll be down on the island early next week. I’ll have someone call you. But you want to be careful about trying to blackmail me.”

“It isn’t blackmail.”

“Of course it is,” he said, sounding weary and cynical.

“Call it whatever you want, then,” Diana said. Slowly she replaced the receiver in its cradle. “I call it justice,” she whispered to herself.

Outside, the horn now blared in one long sound. Diana grinned. Shopping. Why not? She did have certain purchases to make.

I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I know it’s been a long time since I posted anything for you. Like a week, I guess. No, wait, more than a week. But it’s been kind of a busy week.

For one thing, this waitress at work quit, so I’ve picked up some of her shifts. I’m doing dinners now sometimes, which is good because the tips are a lot better. The other night I made eighty-two dollars. Of course, my feet were killing me afterward, and I pulled a muscle in my back lifting this one tray. But Seth gave me an excellent back rub after work…. Oh, wait. You don’t know anything about all that, do you?

Seth and I are kind of going out sometimes. The thing is, we’ve both agreed that we can still see other people if we want, and we’re not like capital “B” boyfriend and capital “G” girlfriend. We would be more lowercase boyfriend and girlfriend. We do things together, but I’m still very cool and in control about it.

Not that I’m seeing anyone else. It’s just that I could if I wanted, and I probably will, because I have totally learned my lesson about falling in love with people too soon and getting hurt when it turns out they’re dirt-bags. I wouldn’t mention any names. Especially any names that start with “Ad” and end with “am.” Did I tell you he tried to give me this necklace? Like I would just forgive everything for gold and diamonds.

Okay, yes, I thought about it. But I said no. You’d probably agree with Marquez that I should have taken the necklace and
then
blown him off. Marquez got so mad at me she was yelling at me in Spanish. The only Spanish she ever speaks are four-letter words, or maybe they’re five letters in Spanish. Of course, she wasn’t serious. Maybe.

But speaking of Marquez, she’s still broken up with J.T. Only, the other day she saw him making out with Lianne in the walk-in, and she was very upset over that, because that’s where she and J.T. used to make out when they were at work. She tells me every day how she’s totally over him, and then spends an hour muttering and grumbling under her breath about him and Lianne. Now she says she’s going to get a new boyfriend. I’m not kidding—she’s on the lookout for someone even better looking than J.T. so she can rub his nose in it. She painted out J.T.’s name on her wall, which is as serious as Marquez gets.

And as for Diana, I don’t even know. I tried to talk to her a couple of times, but she’s still as private as ever. Although, it’s funny, because she
is
different. I mean, before you’d talk to her and there was always this feeling about her, like she was thinking about something else. Well, she still is that way, but it’s as if what she’s thinking about has changed. She has this look, like she’s planning something. You know, like she’s a secret agent or something. I don’t know how to explain it any better than that.

Diana says Mallory, her mom, is coming home soon. Her book tour got extended, but she’ll be back any day now. Maybe that will help.

Anyway, tomorrow I get certified.

Ha, ha, Jennifer, no, not certified insane. Very funny. Jennifer, I
so
know the way your mind works.

I’m getting certified as a scuba diver. Seth has been teaching me, and Jennifer, it is the most excellent, coolest thing on earth. You have
got
to learn, so we can go together when I get home. I’m serious—we can dive in lakes. Seth says lakes are boring, but you could learn there, and even when all you see is sand, which is all I’ve really seen, it’s still way cool.

I’m feeling like things are going more normally now. Like all this stuff with Adam was just this unhappy phase. From now on, it’s just happy happy, joy joy for the rest of the summer.

On the other hand, I have this other feeling that things never stay simple for very long. Like on
The Young and the Restless
or some other soap opera. Anytime everyone is happy, you just know that a murder or a divorce or a long-lost daughter is going to show up by the end of the show.

So tune in tomorrow, for more of
The Tan and the Clueless
.

“Okay, now smile,” Summer directed. She pointed the video camera at Seth, who was standing there, sullen, thumbs hooked in the waist of his jeans, refusing to cooperate.

Summer lowered the camera. “Would it kill you to smile?”

“I don’t even know this Jennifer person,” Seth grumbled.

“She’s my best friend. And she just posted a video of
her
boyfriend. I mean, this guy she’s sort of seeing, anyway,” Summer amended quickly. “I don’t know if he’s actually a boyfriend.”

“So now you want to be able to show her your
guy you’re sort of seeing, anyway?
”

“Yes,” Summer said. “I want her to see what you look like.”

“Uh-huh. Have you taped Diver yet?”

“No. That’s not the same,” Summer said impatiently.

“Why not?”

“Because Diver is not a guy I’m sort of seeing. You are,” Summer explained. Lately Seth had been trying to meet Diver. Like he was jealous of Diver, which made no sense at all. “See, Jennifer shows me the guy she’s sort of seeing, and he’s cute and all, so now I have to show her the guy I’m sort of seeing so she’ll realize that the guy I’m sort of seeing is cuter…almost as cute…as the guy she’s sort of seeing.”

Seth just stared at her. “If two guys were doing this, you’d say it was sexist.” Then, under his breath, but loud enough for Summer to hear, “
Almost
as cute.” He shuddered. “
Cute
is such a girl word.”

“Like
grout
is a boy word. You have
grout,
we have
cute.
Just like you boys have belching and grunting, and we have actual conversation.”

“Ugh,” Seth grunted. “Camera no good. Camera scare caveman.” He took the camera from her hands. “Caveman need to be bribed.” He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her.

Summer let him draw her down onto her bed. He lay on his back. She lay atop him, kissing his lips, enjoying the feel of his hard body. Then she noticed a familiar whirring noise.

She spun around and saw that Seth had raised the camera over them, pointed it down, and depressed the button. The little red light was on.

“Seth!” She slapped his chest.

“There! Do you see, Jennifer? Do you see how mean she is to me?”

“Seth, turn that thing off.”

“Hi, Jennifer, I’m the guy Summer is sort of, kind of, maybe seeing, part of the time. But she has six other boyfriends, too, although none of them is as
cute
as me.”

“They’re all cuter,” Summer said, laughing. “I’m kidding, Jen, obviously, duh.”

“What?” Seth demanded. “Are you saying there are no other guys you’re sort of maybe seeing?” He turned off the camera.

Summer started to climb off, but he wouldn’t let her go.

“So how much longer do we have to go on avoiding the dreaded B-word?” Seth asked. “You know how I feel about you.”

“Seth, we’ve been all over this at least six times,” Summer said. “I just am not going to rush into some big commitment. I’m too young. Besides, what am I supposed to do when summer vacation is over?”

“I guess we’d have to figure that out when the end of summer comes around,” Seth said seriously.

“Yeah. You’ll be back in Wisconsin with Lianne.”

“I’ll be back in Wisconsin. Not with Lianne,” he said.

Summer shrugged. She got up, crossed the room, and put the camera down on her dresser. “Can’t we not put me under so much pressure?” Summer asked.

Seth sat up on the edge of the bed. “Sure. I’m sorry. I keep saying I won’t press you, and then I do it anyway.”

“It’s not that I don’t like you,” Summer said. “I do. A lot. I just feel like I’m not ready to get as serious as you want to get.”

“You mean, we’re not getting married next week? Darn. I’ll have to tell my mom the wedding’s off.”

“Very funny.” Summer came back and sat beside him. She took his hand and held it on her lap. “It’s…I know this is going to sound strange, but I’ve been thinking a lot lately. I keep having these dreams about my brother.”

“Jonathan?”

“Yes. I mean, I think that’s what it is. I see this little boy dressed in white. I know, it sounds nuts, I guess, because I never even saw Jonathan. He disappeared months before I was even born. But it’s like the idea of him is coming back, and I think maybe it’s sort of a warning to me.”

“A warning?” Seth looked confused.

Not exactly surprising, Summer realized. This was the first time she’d articulated the feeling that had grown from the mess with Adam and the mess between Marquez and J.T., all combined with Jonathan.

“Look, I know this is silly, but it’s like…like people forget that loving someone and committing to someone can sometimes be bad. I mean, I think about my parents and Jonathan. It’s really messed up their lives in lots of ways, even though they try to not put it off on me.”

“Oh.” Seth nodded. “I get it.”

“You do?”

“Sure,” he said. “You think if you get totally into someone you might get hurt.”

“Right, so the more slowly you take it and the more totally sure you feel, the less likely it is you’ll get hurt.”

“That’s your theory?”

Summer nodded.

Seth tilted his head back and forth, as if he were holding an internal debate. “I guess I can live with that, for now. Actually, it’s kind of nice, in a perverse way. You’re saying if you admit you’re in love with me and then you lose me, you’ll be terribly unhappy.”

“You make it sound kind of obvious,” Summer said. “It seemed much more profound in my mind.”

“The other side of what you’re saying is that if we broke up right now, you’d just wash your hands of me, figure no big deal, bring on the next guy.” Suddenly he pushed her onto her back and lowered his face to hers. “Too bad, it’s not going to work. Because I’m not going to just go away.”

He kissed her and for a while, at least, she forgot why it was that she’d ever even thought of losing him.

By the next morning, she had remembered.

“Because,” she explained to Marquez, who was going through Summer’s wardrobe making rude remarks, “the amount of possible pain is directly proportional to the degree of commitment.”

“Uh-huh,” Marquez said. “Is that geometry? Or algebra?” She held up a bulky sweater of Summer’s. “Why is this here? Even in February it doesn’t get that cold here. This is July. You have, like, one bathing suit and two sweaters.”

“I am trying to discuss an important idea here,” Summer said.

“You want an important idea? I’ll give you an important idea—what are we doing today? We have the day off.”

“I’m going diving with Seth this afternoon,” Summer said.

“Okay, so we have the morning off. I repeat, what are we doing? I’m thinking shopping.”

“I have nothing to shop for,” Summer said.

“You are so wrong. You need so much stuff. And I know you made money Saturday night. You had that ten-top with all the champagne.”

There was a knock on the door. “It’s me.” Diana’s voice.

“Come in,” Summer yelled.

“Diana,” Marquez said. “Out walking in the sunlight? Isn’t that dangerous for your species?”

“Ah, Marquez, as always, you’re every bit as funny as your taste in outfits,” Diana said as she walked to the center of the room.

“Ooh, right through the heart,” Marquez said. “Diana’s been drinking the caffeinated coffee again.”

Marquez was right. There had been a noticeable change in Diana lately. She seemed preoccupied and yet jumpy with suppressed energy. Noticeably different from the depressed, sullen Diana Summer had gotten used to.

“I just came down to warn you,” Diana said to Summer. “It’s finally happening. Mallory is coming home tomorrow. It’s definite.”

“Oh no,” Summer said. “I won’t be here tomorrow. I’m going on a diving trip with Seth. We won’t get back until late.”

“Lucky you,” Diana said dryly. She noticed the video camera. “Wait, that’s right. You have a video camera, don’t you?”

“Yep. Why? Did you want to borrow it?”

“Maybe,” Diana said thoughtfully. “Are you taking it on your trip?”

“No, I’d end up getting it wet,” Summer said.

“Better and better,” Diana said softly.

“What do you mean—” Summer fell silent. The hatchway in the floor had lifted two inches. She peered and saw a pair of eyes she recognized.

“You can come in, Diver. Diana knows about you. She’s cool,” Summer said. “And you’ve already met Marquez.”

She’s cool,
Summer thought. Jeez, you sound like you’re dealing drugs or something. But it reminded her of the fact that Mallory, Diana’s mother, might
not
be so cool if she learned about Diver.

Diver raised the hatch a few inches higher. “Um, hi,” he said to Diana. “Nice to meet you and all.”

Diana bent over and looked down at him. “I don’t know if this is exactly a meeting. But, you know, nice to…whatever.”

“Come on in,” Marquez said with sudden enthusiasm.

“Um, well…” Diver said.

He seemed even more at a loss for words than usual. Summer knelt down in front of him. “Is there something wrong?”

“Kind of,” Diver said.

“What is it?”

“There was this nail, sticking out of this piling down by the marina, right?” he said.

“A nail. At the marina. Okay.”

“See, I was doing this job.”

“You work?” Marquez said, surprised. “I thought you just sort of absorbed nutrition from the environment, by osmosis or something.”

Diver’s eyes tracked left, puzzled. “Osmosis? I believe that’s a feature of plants, not animals.”

“Diver, what’s the problem?” Summer asked impatiently. “Marquez, stop interrupting. Diver, come on in and tell us.”

“Well, there was this nail. And I kind of caught my suit on it. And it kind of ripped.”

“Ripped? As in—?”

“I was thinking I would just sew it up, right? Only, I don’t have a needle or anything. So I was wondering if you had a needle and thread I could use.”

“Of course she does,” Marquez said enthusiastically. “Climb right on up and we’ll fix it for you.”

“It’s kind of a big rip,” Diver said. “I guess the fabric was kind of old and rotten and it just pretty much fell apart.”

“All the more reason to come right on up,” Marquez said.

“I’ll get you a towel to wrap around yourself,” Summer said, with a scolding look at Marquez.

“A hand towel,” Marquez called after her. “A washcloth.”

Moments later Diver emerged into the living room, wearing a large beach towel wrapped around him. He wiggled and shifted until he could safely produce the bathing suit.

Summer held it up for all to see. The fabric was thoroughly rotted. If it hadn’t torn, it would have soon disintegrated.

“That’s a nasty rip,” Marquez said. “All the way from the waistband down. What a shame. Lucky thing Summer gave you that towel.” She shot Summer a dirty look.

“I’m glad to meet you, Diver,” Diana said, smiling one of her rare smiles.

“Sure,” Diver said, looking mightily uncomfortable. He glanced anxiously from Diana to Marquez. He seemed to have a hard time tearing his gaze away from Marquez, who was eyeing him like a hungry lioness sizing up a juicy lamb.

“So…where are the rest of your clothes?” Diana asked.

He shrugged. “I had this shirt,” he said, looking around vaguely. “I don’t remember where I put it, though.”

Summer tossed the bathing suit to Diana. “
That
is his entire wardrobe. That and the beach towel he’s wearing.”

“Huh,” Diana said.

“Hmm,” Marquez said.

“You guys, try to be mature about this,” Summer said. They were grinding her nerves now. The two of them leering and all but drooling. After all, Diver had a brain, and a heart, too. If either Marquez or Diana was interested in him they were going to have to recognize that and treat him with respect.

Good grief,
Summer chided herself.
What am I, his mother, all of a sudden?

“Mature, definitely. Gotta be mature,” Marquez agreed.

“Diver, I think maybe you need some new clothes,” Summer said.

“I guess so,” he agreed. “But how am I going to go and buy them if I’m wearing a towel?”

“Ladies,” Marquez announced, rubbing her hands gleefully, “I believe we have found something to do with the rest of the day. We have to buy this boy some clothes. You two get going, and I’ll stay here.”

“I can put it on Mallory’s credit card,” Diana offered. “Might as well do as much damage as I can before she gets back.”

“I have money,” Diver said.

“You do?” all three girls said at once.

“Sure. I do work, you know. I do stuff like clean boats down at the marina. I have it in a jar, up on the deck. Let me go get it.”