Sun-Kissed Christmas

  “No.” Diana smiled. “But I will admit you were a little more right than I gave you credit for.” She took his hand. “Come on.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “I saw some mistletoe back there with your name on it.”

  18

  Just Like Real Life

  When it started to snow, Summer was by herself. She’d gone for another walk on the beach early that afternoon. To clear her head, she’d told everybody. To think.

  It had started stealthily, a few stray, tentative flakes. Starter snow, the kind the uninitiated might have missed. But Summer was not a novice when it came to snow. She could smell it, she could taste it. And with the arrival of those first few flakes, she could tell they were in for a serious snowfall.

  It was strange, watching the fat, twirling flakes come to rest on the sand. Watching them melt into the ocean was stranger still, and more beautiful. The faster they came, the more they softened the hard edges of the world. Everything turned hushed and magical.

  She loved the beginning of a snowfall, the anticipation, the impossible stillness. It was always this way. No wind, no sound. Even the waves were stunned into silence.

  She didn’t hear Austin approaching. He was almost beside her before she sensed him near her.

  She hadn’t seen him since that morning. He looked calmer now, almost relaxed. A dusting of snowflakes covered his hair.

  “You got your wish,” he said.

  “One, anyway.” She held out her hand and watched the snow turn to raindrops in her palm. “Where have you been?”

  “Walking. I must have covered the whole key. I went back to the inn just now. Vera was wearing Harris’s ring.”

  “I suppose you disapprove.”

  “You suppose wrong. I think it’s just this side of miraculous.”

  Summer took a deep breath. She wanted to say something, but there was nothing to say. No way to comfort Austin, no way to reach him. She felt hushed and overwhelmed, like the landscape around her.

  “I wanted to tell you about me having the gene, you know,” Austin said. “I came close to it a thousand times.”

  “Why didn’t you, then?”

  “I just … there wasn’t …”

  “Is it because of Esme?” Summer asked. “Did you tell her?”

  Austin made a sound close to a laugh. “Oh, Summer. No. That’s not it at all.” He shook his head. “The point of Esme is that it was never an issue. No cares, no commitments—that’s the way Esme likes it. There is no future to worry about with Esme. And don’t you see how much easier it is when you don’t care?”

  Summer looked at him in silence, unsure of what to say.

  “I thought I was protecting you by not telling you, Summer,” he went on. “I didn’t think it was fair to let you care about someone who was going to end up … like my dad.” He shrugged. “And I was right. It isn’t fair.”

  “Why should you have the right to decide that for me?” Summer demanded. “Why is it your decision?”

  “Because I love you, Summer,” Austin said. “That’s why.”

  Summer closed her eyes, looking for the right words. “You know, I learned a lot about myself being on my own this fall, Austin. I learned I can do scary things. I learned I’m strong and independent. I learned I don’t have to lean on anyone else, that I can handle things.”

  “I knew all that the moment I met you.”

  Summer started to cry. “Then why can’t you trust me to be able to handle this? Why can’t you let me decide if I want to be with you, even if you do get sick someday, even if you …” She swallowed a sob. “Why can’t you let me decide?”

  He looked at her for a long time. The snow kept coming faster, twirling crazily, an icy fog obscuring everything around them—the beach, the ocean, the sky—until all Summer could seem to see was Austin. Just him. Only him.

  “Okay,” he finally whispered. “I’ll let you decide. You tell me how the story ends.”

  Summer reached up and took his face in her hands. “I’m glad you asked. I happen to know just how it all turns out.”

  She kissed him as though it were the first time and the last time, telling him all the things there were no words to say. At last she slowly pulled away, laughing, crying.

  “Well?” Austin said.

  “It snows, and everybody lives happily ever after.” Summer smiled. “Just like real life.”

  1

  Six Weeks Till Spring Break, and She

  Doesn’t Have a Thing to Wear

  Eight juniors departments, thirty-seven bathing suits, and a half-dozen snarling salesladies into her quest, Summer Smith was ready to admit the obvious: She was a freak of nature.

  In the overlit dressing room, four Summers stared back at her from full-length mirrors. They all looked somewhere between very dejected and totally annoyed.

  Mounds of shimmering Lycra lay at her feet. Tanks. Thongs. Two-pieces. Suits for long torsos. Suits with inflatable boob enhancers. Suits with little tutulike skirts, like the ones mothers wore at the community pool. And then there were the suits that you would never in a gazillion years let your mother see you wearing, not if you ever wanted to leave the house again.

  None of them was right.

  Six weeks till the spring break to end all spring breaks, and Summer had nothing to wear to Florida.

  Obviously there was only one solution. Nude beaches.

  Right.

  A clerk knocked on the door. “How are we doing in there?”

  “We think maybe we should go to Alaska for spring break,” the four Summers replied.

  The clerk left with a sigh. Summer sighed, too. She was not a freak of nature. There was nothing wrong with her body. She liked her body just the way it was. Seth liked her body just the way it was. Maybe even a little too much.

  Seth peered over the top of the door. “Want an unbiased male opinion?”

  “Seth! Get out of here! They’ll arrest you or something.”

  “There’s no one in the dressing room but you. Besides, I’m going stir-crazy out there. You’ve got to buy something quick, Summer. I’m starting to sense some chemistry with one of the mannequins.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “By the way, you look extremely excellent. Buy that one. Wear it home.”

  “It’s February. It was sleeting on our way to the mall.”

  “So wear your mittens, too.”

  “You’re no help. You’re just a typical boy. As long as there’s a lot of skin involved, you’re okay with it.”

  “And that would be … wrong?”

  Summer let out a long sigh. “What’s the matter with me, Seth? Why can’t I get my brain to function?”

  “You’re stressed out. That’s why spring vacation was invented.”

  “But I’m a senior this year. We’re not supposed to be stressed.” She brightened. “Soon we’ll have five days of complete bliss. It’ll be just like last summer. No problems, no hassles. Sun. Sand. Surf.”

  “How about the fourth s word?”

  “Sleep?”

  “I was thinking about the one that ends in x.”

  Summer batted at him playfully. “I like a guy who’s not afraid to dream.”

  She flipped through a bunch of suits on a hook. “It’s between this black tank and that blue two-piece.”

  “The blue one. Definitely. Now can we go? My Egg McMuffin wore off hours ago.”

  “I need an objective girl opinion. I wish Marquez and Diana were here. I ought to call them.”

  “We’ll be seeing them soon enough,” Seth said flatly.

  “Try to fake a little enthusiasm,” Summer chided. “We’ll have plenty of time to ourselves over spring break. And Diana’s the one who’s snagging us the yacht. The rest of the spring breakers will be cramped in mildewy hotel rooms while we’ll be living in the lap of luxury.”

  “I just wish I could have you all to myself,” Seth said, gazing at her with a familiar look that was half lust, half love.


  She stood on tiptoe, and they kissed over the top of the door. A harsh voice inquired, “And how are we doing in here now?”

  “We were doing great,” Seth muttered. He gave the salesclerk a sheepish smile before slinking off. “Buy the two-piece,” he called.

  The salesclerk shook her head. “I like that black tank, personally. It’s very slimming.”

  Summer groaned. “Do you guys have a pay phone?”

  The cell phone was ringing, but that didn’t mean they had to pick it up, did it? Maria Marquez felt way too good, with the sun melting into her bones and the ocean lapping at her feet.

  Next to her, Diana Olan stirred. “Are you deaf or what?”

  “I’ve got sun-stun. Besides, it’s your phone.”

  “I can’t answer it. It might be my mother.”

  Marquez rolled onto her side. Fine white sand coated her Hawaiian Tropic-ed arm. She grimaced. “All right, chill, I’m coming,” she muttered, digging through the canvas beach bag. She sat up, flipped open the phone, and collapsed with the effort. “Yeah?” she asked, adjusting her sunglasses.

  “Marquez! Why are you answering Diana’s phone? It’s me, Summer! I’m at the Mall of America, and I need fashion help!”

  “It’s your cousin,” Marquez reported to Diana. “She’s having a mall crisis.”

  Diana lowered her shades. “Is she with Seth?”

  “Is Seth with you?” Marquez asked Summer.

  “He’s at the food court. Eating fried cheese on a stick.”

  “Seth’s having a fine-dining experience,” Marquez said.

  Diana nodded, apparently satisfied, and lay back on her towel.

  “I haven’t talked to you in ages,” Marquez chided Summer. “What’s up?”

  “My parents got the last phone bill and freaked. Between you and Diana and Seth, I’m going to have to get a full-time job to pay for the long distance. I’m using up the last of my quarters on this call.”

  “Soon it won’t be long distance,” Marquez reminded her. “Guess where we are! This will get you psyched. We are lazing by the beach and it’s eighty-one degrees and we’ve got my iPod speakers cranked up and there are four guys playing volleyball not fifty feet from here and they have definitely been hitting the gym.”

  “It’s thirty degrees here and sleeting. Why are you looking at other guys? Is everything okay with J.T.?”

  “I guess.” Marquez adjusted her bathing suit strap. “He’s just a little, I don’t know, distracted. Anyway, a girl can look, can’t she?”

  “Ask her how she and Seth are doing,” Diana prompted.

  Marquez shot her a dirty look. “I answered the phone, I ask the questions.” She rolled onto her side. “So how are you and Sethie doing? Still drooling?”

  “It’s hard to do much drooling when he’s in Wisconsin and I’m in Minnesota. He has to drive back this afternoon.” “Well, soon you two will have your own little love nest, courtesy of cousin Di. I saw a picture of the yacht,” Marquez said. “I mean, this is some spring break hangout, Summer. Chandeliers and water beds and a big-screen TV. Oh, yeah, and a Jacuzzi in the shape of a heart, can you believe it?”

  “This is going to be such a cool vacation.” Summer sighed. “I miss you guys so much. I know I just saw you both at Christmas, but it seems like forever.”

  “We miss you, too. It’s just way too weird, me and Diana hanging out together solo. We need you around to keep us from trying to kill each other.”

  “I know what you mean,” Summer said. Her voice was distant. “Diver and I have been going at it, too.”

  “Your sweet, innocent, incredibly gorgeous brother?” Marquez demanded. “I can’t imagine Diver having a negative emotion. He’s like … all Zen about everything.”

  “Not lately. Not like last summer.” Summer sighed again. “I wish we were all back together. I wish everything was the way it was last summer, you know?”

  “Yeah, I do. And it will be soon. Just a month or so.”

  “Six weeks, four days, and a few hours. But it’s not like I’m obsessed or anything.”

  Marquez laughed. “So what’s the fashion emergency?”

  “Oh. I almost forgot. It’s down to two choices. Two-piece, barely there, electric blue. Or black tank, fits really well, would be really good for swimming and jet-skiing and stuff.”

  “Summer, Summer, Summer. This is spring break, girl. In Florida, not Minne-so-dead. Definitely the two-piece.”

  “I can’t wait to see you,” Summer said softly. “I have to hang up now before the quarters run out, okay?”

  “I’ll call you next time.”

  “You’re broke, too.”

  Marquez smirked at Diana. “Yeah, but Diana isn’t.”

  Diana sat up and grabbed the phone. “Summer? I just wanted to say …” She turned away from Marquez, lowering her voice. “I just wanted to say I really miss you. … Yeah. Me too. … Yeah. Buy the two-piece, okay?”

  She tossed the phone into her beach bag. Marquez stared at her, incredulous.

  “What?” Diana demanded.

  “‘I really miss you’?” Marquez parroted. “Have you been out in the sun too long? If I didn’t know you better, I’d swear that was like, you know, an actual emotion.”

  Diana almost looked hurt. “I like Summer a lot. I was a little hard on her last summer, but once I got to know her. … Anyway, she is my cousin.”

  Marquez eyed Diana suspiciously. “Still, you’re being awfully nice to us, setting up this yacht and all. This isn’t even your spring break. You graduated last year, remember?”

  “But I kind of missed mine. So I’m compensating.”

  “You’re compensating for something,” Marquez said with a grin. “But I just can’t figure out what.”

  “Oh, Maria,” Diana said, knowing how much Marquez hated being called by her first name. “Such a suspicious little mind. With the emphasis on little.”

  Marquez closed her eyes. The sun was like a sleeping potion. She’d figure out Diana another day, when she wasn’t in a solar coma.

  Next to her, Diana sighed. “She’ll buy the tank, you know.”

  Marquez smiled fondly. “I know.”

  2

  Good-byes Without Yawns and

  Good-byes Without Explanation

  “I miss you already,” Seth whispered.

  They were parked in his dilapidated Ford in front of Summer’s home. He pulled her close—not an easy task, since they both had on down jackets—and lowered his lips to hers. It was a familiar kiss, warm and soft, and it occurred to her how comfortable she was with his safe, reliable, always-just-the-same kisses. How many times had he kissed her like this? Hundreds? Maybe even thousands?

  To her horror, Summer suddenly felt a yawn coming. She tried to stifle it, forcing her mouth to stay closed, but it was no use. She yawned hugely. Her mouth opened to cavelike proportions.

  Seth pulled away. “Sorry,” he snapped. “Was I boring you?”

  “You could never bore me,” Summer said, placing her hand over his. “I’m just … I’m really sorry.”

  He ran his fingers through his thick chestnut hair. It was shorter than he’d worn it the previous summer, when they’d met, and his tan had faded to Wisconsin pale. But the great brown eyes hadn’t changed—laughing and intense and thoughtful at the same time.

  “I thought we were having a passionate kiss.”

  “We were. I didn’t sleep very well last night, is all. My parents were fighting with Diver again.” She made a little circle on the steamed-up window.

  “So I wasn’t putting you to sleep?”

  “No! Was I putting you to sleep?”

  “You’re the one who yawned.” After a moment Seth managed a lopsided grin. He patted her thigh. “Sorry. It’ll be okay with Diver. He’s just having a hard time right now.”

  “I guess.”

  Seth checked the stick-on clock on the peeling dashboard and sighed. “I need to get going.”

  “I feel li
ke all we do is say good-bye to each other.” Summer reached into the backseat to retrieve her shopping bags. “Wait, I almost forgot!” she exclaimed. “I bought you some stuff for the trip.”

  “So that’s what took you so long. Cool. Presents!”

  They weren’t just presents, they were part of a scientifically designed plan to rekindle her romance with Seth. Summer knew about rekindling because she read her mother’s New Woman magazine sometimes, and revving up a romance seemed to be a big concern for couples like her parents, not that she wanted to think about that too much. And since she and Seth were a long-term couple of nearly nine months (Summer insisted on counting from the day they’d met), she figured it might be time for a little rekindling.

  Toward that end, she’d bought some of the items suggested in the article. Candles. A book called 101 Love Poems to Set the Mood. A bottle of coconut-almondpapaya- scented suntan oil for rubbing on Seth’s back while they basked in the Florida sun. And, from one of those Spencer kind of stores, a watch without hands. It was meant to symbolize that they weren’t going to think about anything but each other. Seth was kind of obsessive about time.

  Slowly Seth examined the items, one by one. He lingered on the tanning oil, grinning. When he got to the watch, he groaned.

  “It’s symbolic,” Summer explained. “Five days without time pressures.”

  “You know, it’s not like I’m obsessed,” Seth said irritably. “Just because I know that when the big hand’s on the twelve and the little hand’s on the three it means it’s three o’clock.”

  “I already said I was sorry at the mall,” Summer snapped. “I lost track of time.” They were doing it again. They always had nitpicky little fights right before saying good-bye.

  Seth stroked her hair apologetically. “Thanks for all the cool stuff. Will you pack it for me? I’m just taking my backpack.” He made a big ceremony of putting on the watch. Then he passed her a small paper sack from the backseat. “Here. For you, for the big trip. I went shopping, too.”

  She opened the bag. “Zinc oxide!” she said. It was precisely the same voice she used every Christmas when she opened one of her great-aunt’s handmade sweaters.