“Are you as tired as I am?” Diana asked. “This mommy stuff is exhausting.”

  “This mommy stuff sucks,” Marquez corrected. “You know”—she lowered her voice—“there was a time, last summer, when I was seriously thinking that the only way I could hold on to Diver was to sleep with him. Now I’m really glad I got my act together and decided to wait. Sarah’s a cute kid and all, but I’ll tell you something—being around her is, like, the ultimate in birth control.”

  Diana laughed. “Yeah, I know what you mean. I’ve been chasing after her since six this morning. If I sing one more chorus of ‘The Wheels on the Bus’ I want you to shoot me, okay?”

  “No way. Then I’d be stuck with her full time.”

  Diana rubbed her eyes. “You think this whole thing is crazy?”

  Marquez arched one eyebrow. “Do you really want me to answer that?”

  “I was kind of hoping Jennie might call or show up today. After a little time to decompress, I figured she’d come to her senses.”

  “Jennie isn’t going to show up, Diana. And after Christmas we’re going to have to do the hard thing and—”

  “Shh!”

  Diana knelt down as Sarah rushed over. “So, what did you think of the elves?”

  Sarah shrugged. “They’re not real.”

  “Well, no—”

  “And neither is Santa.”

  “Still, you promised me you’d give it a shot, remember?”

  “I’m going to look at the giant candy canes.”

  “Okay. No farther, though.” Diana watcher her run off. “God, I just realized I sounded like Mallory. Now you really do have to shoot me.”

  They watched a little boy sob inconsolably on Santa’s lap while a woman dressed as Mrs. Claus tried to snap the boy’s picture.

  “This really is kind of a cruel ritual, isn’t it?” Marquez mused.

  “Actually, Mallory never bothered with this stuff. I think it’s charming … in a cheesy mini-mall sort of way. Hey, I was thinking that after we’re done here maybe we could hit the toy store. Summer could take Sarah while we stock up on gifts. I really want to do this right.”

  “You’re not going to get carried away, are you?”

  “No.” Diana smiled. “Just a few dozen toys, give or take a dozen. And she really needs some clothes.”

  “Diana,” Marquez said seriously, “I had great Christmases, and a lot of times I was lucky to get one or two toys. One year, our first year here in the States, all I got was a box of crayons. But it was the best present I ever got.”

  “Okay.” Diana waved her hand. “I won’t overdo. Just tell me this—where do you think I could get a stuffed lamb?”

  “She loves that thing. No way would she want a replacement.”

  “It’s hemorrhaging fuzz.”

  Marquez nudged her. “There’s Summer and Seth. Hmm. They both look a little flushed to me. …”

  “Not funny,” Diana snapped. “Not even remotely funny.”

  “Hey, guys,” Summer called as she approached. “Looks like Sarah’s next up, huh?”

  Seth gave Diana a light kiss. “Miss me?”

  “The real question is, did you miss me?” Diana said. It was supposed to be a joke, but even to her ears she sounded a little paranoid.

  “Okay, who’s next?” Mrs. Claus asked. She had a thick southern accent. Her right ear was pierced three times.

  “Sarah!” Diana called.

  Sarah ran over obediently. “Go on, sweetie,” Diana said, herding her forward. “Say hi to Santa.”

  “Ho, ho, ho,” Santa said in a singsong voice. “What’s your name, little girl?”

  “Sarah,” she replied. “What’s your name?’

  Santa looked a little nonplussed. “Why, Santa Claus, of course!”

  “I mean your real name. Like Sarah’s my real name.”

  Santa sent an annoyed glance at Diana. “She’s very precocious,” Diana explained.

  “Isn’t she just?” he grumbled. Above his fake beard he had a bad patch of pimples.

  “Let’s get this over with, Sarah,” Marquez said, stepping in. “Aunt Diana wants you to suffer the way she never had to.” She lifted Sarah onto Santa’s lap.

  “Have you lost weight, Santa?” Marquez asked. “Lookin’ good, my man. Quality time on the treadmill, eh?” She stepped back. “Santa’s wearing CK One,” she whispered to Diana.

  “Tell Santa what you want him to bring you for Christmas,” Santa said wearily. “But here are my ground rules—no ponies, no cash, no getting rid of siblings.”

  “I don’t want anything.”

  “Yeah, right,” Santa chortled. “That’d be a first.”

  “But I don’t.”

  Santa glared at Diana. “Don’t look at me,” Diana protested.

  “Maybe she’s not very materialistic.”

  “You’re telling me you don’t want anything?” Santa asked Sarah.

  Sarah pursed her lips, deep in thought. She shook her head.

  “Come on, kid,” Santa whispered. “You’re making me look bad here.”

  “Just tell Santa one thing, Sarah,” Diana urged.

  “Do it, kid,” Marquez said. “It’s your only way out of this nightmare.”

  “Well, there is one thing,” Sarah said softly. She reached into her pants pocket and pulled out a little piece of torn paper.

  “What’s that?” Summer asked Diana.

  “I don’t have a clue. Looks like it’s from a magazine.”

  “That’s the way,” Santa said, taking the picture. “Let me guess—a doll? A game? Maybe a—” He fell silent. “Kid, this is a house!”

  “Smile and say Rudolph!” Mrs. Claus commanded, snapping Sarah’s photo.

  “Where’d you get that picture, Sarah?” Diana asked.

  “Your magazines. It’s a house for my mom and me.”

  Santa sent a look of pure poison at Diana. “She couldn’t just ask for a dollhouse, Mom?”

  “I’m not her mom.”

  “That’s the other thing,” Sarah tugged on Santa’s beard, revealing a wispy brown starter mustache. “If you’re really Santa, then you’ll make my mom come home.”

  “Man, this isn’t worth six-forty an hour,” Santa muttered. “Okay, kid. Here’s the deal. I am Santa, really I am. And I’m going to do right by you. I’m going to do my damn—my darnedest to find you a house. And your mom. Deal?”

  Diana winced. “Uh, Santa? You don’t want to over—” she began, but Sarah was already scampering off.

  “You know what this reminds me of?” Summer said.

  “A depressing scene from your Midwestern childhood?” Marquez ventured.

  “No, that movie. That Santa Claus movie. We watched it last week. You know the one. Miracle on 34th Street. I swear, this is just like it.”

  “Yeah,” Marquez said. “Except in that movie Santa didn’t have acne.”

  “One other important difference,” Diana added grimly. “The movie had a happy ending.”

  12

  Laughable Kisses, and Serious Ones

  “Boy, it’s really coming down,” Seth said that evening, standing in the doorway of the girls’ house. “I’d forgotten what Florida monsoons are like. It’s weird for this time of year, though.”

  Marquez came out of her room, sighing. “The roof is leaking again. My mattress is getting soaked.”

  “Seth, how about you and I move the bed out of the way?” Diver suggested.

  “Does this happen often?” Seth asked.

  “Only every time it rains,” Diana replied as she idly channel-surfed.

  “I can fix it,” Seth volunteered. “I’ll see about getting some shingles. My grandfather’s got a ladder I can borrow.”

  “Meantime, I’ll get a bucket,” Marquez said. “And tomorrow I’ll complain to our cheapskate landlord. Again.”

  Just then the phone rang. “I’ll get it,” Summer called. She reached across the kitchen table for the phone and was rewarded w
ith a dial tone.

  “That’s the second time this evening,” she said, carefully rearranging the piles of index cards she was preparing for her history report.

  “You don’t suppose it could be Jennie, do you?” Diana asked. She whispered it, even though Sarah had been in bed for hours.

  “Maybe it’s Santa,” Marquez said as she rummaged under the sink for a bucket. “Checking to see whether Sarah would prefer a ranch or a colonial.”

  “That jerk. There ought to be some kind of license required for Santas,” Diana muttered.

  Again the phone rang. Summer groaned as she grabbed it. “Yeah?” she demanded. “Please, whoever you are. Say something. Anything.”

  “Man, if I’d know you were that desperate for conversation, I’d have called earlier.”

  “Austin?”

  “Yeah. Sorry. Is it too late?”

  “No, no. It’s just that we’ve had a couple of hang-ups tonight. Hey, that wasn’t you, by any chance?”

  “Sorry, no. I just got home from work. Listen, I wanted to make sure I didn’t offend you this afternoon with my full-body tackle.”

  “Offend?” Summer turned toward the wall to avoid her friends’ curious stares. “No.” She lowered her voice. “Not at all.”

  “Because it was just, like, one of those brain disconnects, you know? Esme and I were laughing about it tonight.”

  “She saw us?”

  “No, but I told her all about it.”

  “You told her?”

  “She said she’d done the same thing with one of her old boyfriends. A reflex kiss, I mean. Minus the tackle, of course.”

  Summer swallowed past a dry lump in her throat. Esme and he had gotten a good laugh out of it? Summer had half seriously considered never putting Blistex on her lips again, she’d been so blown away by Austin’s kiss.

  “Anyway, I wanted to tell you that if you want to go ahead with the Harris and Vera thing, I guess it’s all right with me. I just don’t think you should expect too much. Or push too hard.”

  “Well, there is one thing you could help me with.”

  “Okay.”

  “Do you know anybody with a big tent?”

  “A tent?”

  “For re-creating their Christmas Eve.”

  “Summer, I think maybe that would fall into the category of pushing too hard,” Austin said.

  “I know this will work. I have instincts.”

  “Why don’t you just, I don’t know, give Harris Vera’s number and let nature take its course?”

  “You do not have a romantic bone in your body, are you aware of that?” Summer snapped.

  “Okay, okay, I surrender to your womanly instincts. There’s a guy at work who does a lot of backpacking and stuff. I’ll check with him on the tent.”

  “I’d appreciate it.”

  “How are you going to get them together, though?”

  “I have a plan,” Summer lied. “Now, I really should go. I have to work on my history paper.”

  “Okay. So no hard feelings, right?”

  “Oh, no,” Summer said frostily. “And for the record, I also found your kiss laughable.”

  She slammed down the phone. When she turned around, Marquez and Diana were very busy pretending they hadn’t been listening.

  “Show’s over,” Summer said.

  Diana winked at Marquez. “Denial,” she whispered. “Just like we said.”

  “I love the beach after it rains,” Diana said. “It’s like everything’s brand-new.”

  Seth took her hand. It was almost midnight. They walked in silence at the surf’s edge, both barefoot. The wet sand was packed tight, cool and unyielding under their toes. The air smelled briny and alive. On the horizon a few clouds had parted, revealing a light dusting of pale stars, but the moon was hidden from view. Without the moonlight glazing the waves, the ocean was an invisible, vast presence. It was pure sound, the soothing crash and tumble of waves and nothing more.

  “There’s no moon tonight,” Diana said.

  “Just because we can’t see it doesn’t mean it’s not there.”

  “Can I ask you something without sounding jealous and paranoid and just generally neurotic?” Diana said.

  “Well, it would be a first,” Seth said affectionately, “but hey, give it a shot.”

  “What did you and Summer talk about at the mall today?”

  “The usual stuff. School, Christmas. Let’s see. Oh, we talked about Adam a little.” Seth paused. “And I told Summer I hoped we could be friends.”

  Diana let her hand slip out of Seth’s “What does that mean, exactly?”

  “You know, Diana. A friend. Someone to bum money from. Someone to watch TV with. Someone who’ll pick you up when your car blows a gasket. A friend.”

  “I guess I don’t see …” Diana stopped walking. The cool water rushed over her toes. “I guess I don’t see why you have to see her anymore at all. Why it can’t just be over totally.”

  Even in the dark, she could see Seth’s exasperated expression. She couldn’t really blame him. But she couldn’t seem to help herself either.

  “It can’t be totally over,” Seth said, placing his hands on her shoulders, “because I care about Summer. I always will. You can’t just turn feelings on and off like a faucet, Diana. I’ve known Summer a long time. I hope she’s always my friend.”

  He cupped her face in his hands and gently kissed her. It was a tender, soft kiss, and she knew it was meant to reassure her. But all Diana could think of was the hundreds, maybe thousands, of times he’d kissed Summer, and how that memory would always be there, ruining moments such as this.

  She pulled away abruptly. “I just don’t know if I can deal with all the history, Seth. The lies and anger and everything.”

  Seth smiled wryly. “Nobody lied more last summer than you, Diana.”

  “True. But that’s part of the problem. I know it’s my own fault, but I wonder if you can ever look at me and see me. Not the person who broke up you and Summer.”

  “You didn’t break us up.” Seth gave a short laugh. “Well, you didn’t help, God knows. But the truth is, even Austin didn’t break us up. The problem was between Summer and me. It just wasn’t … working out.”

  They resumed walking. After a while Seth took Diana’s hand again. She tried to enjoy the moment: the cool sand, the salt breeze, the feel of Seth’s warm fingers twining in hers, the sound of his steady breathing.

  But she couldn’t. All she could do was imagine another night not so far in the future—a night when she’d have to walk alone on this same beach without Seth. A night when she’d know she’d lost him to Summer for good.

  “Sometimes I wish I could just erase the past,” Diana said. “Get amnesia, maybe. I wouldn’t have to forget everything. Just the hard stuff. The stuff that hurts. The times I’ve disappointed people. The times people have disappointed me.”

  “Are you talking about me?”

  “No.” Diana shrugged. “You haven’t, not yet. I don’t know who I mean. Mallory. Other guys. Just … people.”

  “If you lost all the bad stuff, the good stuff wouldn’t feel so good,” Seth said.

  He paused, pulling her close. Diana laid her head on his shoulder, gazing out at the ocean, as invisible and mysterious as her future.

  “We can’t wish our past away, Diana,” Seth whispered. “But maybe we can learn from it. Maybe you and I can find something Summer and I couldn’t find. Maybe we can find a way to make things work.”

  They kissed again, long and slow. When Diana opened her eyes, she could just make out the moon glowing small and yellow, like a porch light on a foggy night.

  13

  Spoonbills and Stuffed Lambs

  Two days later Summer was on the porch sorting through some recent purchases when she heard Austin’s car rattling up the drive.

  Esme was in the front seat with him. She waited in the car while Austin removed yellow canvas and a large bundle of poles from the trunk.


  “I come bearing gifts,” Austin called as he strode up the drive. He dropped the bundle at Summer’s feet.

  “Is that a tent?” Summer asked.

  “It’s a potential tent, anyway.”

  “Khaki would have been more realistic. But I’ll take what I can get.”

  “What’s in the big box?” Austin asked.

  “Stuff,” Summer said evasively.

  “Is that a canteen I see?”

  Summer shoved the cardboard box toward him. “See for yourself. But if you don’t approve, just do me a favor and keep your mouth shut. I’m starting to have second thoughts as it is.”

  “Two mess kits, an army blanket, a nurse’s cap, a helmet.” Austin whistled. “Where did you find all this?”

  “Mostly the Goodwill outlet and that army surplus store up the highway.”

  Austin shook his head. “So you’re really going through with this reunion?”

  “I’m not sure anymore.” Summer yanked the box away. “It seemed like such a good idea at first, but then I started to have doubts when you were so dead set against it. And when I told Marquez and Diana about it, they just sort of rolled their eyes and said I was an incurable romantic. Well, Diana said I was an incurable romantic. Marquez said I was deranged.”

  Austin frowned. “I went to all the trouble of finding you this tent,” he said. “Now I sort of feel let down.”

  “You told me this idea was dumb.”

  “I know, but I figured you’d barrel ahead with it anyway. You are incredibly stubborn, in case no one’s ever pointed that out to you. And anyway, I brought you the tent, didn’t I?”

  “I don’t know what to do.” Summer sighed. “I guess I’ll see how I feel. Tomorrow’s Christmas Eve, so this’ll have to wait till after the holidays. There’s no way I could get them together tomorrow. Even if I did think of a way to do it.”

  Esme honked the horn impatiently. “Hang on, Es,” Austin called. He turned back to Summer. “Finished with your paper?” he asked.

  “Almost. But I’m not sure how to end it. I guess I was waiting to see if I’d go through with this plan.” She smiled wistfully. “I even got a CD. Greatest hits of the forties. They’re kind of cool, actually. There’s this one song, ‘I’ll Be Seeing You.’ They used to play it all the time during the war. Really sad.”