“If you ask me, those two things are one and the same.”
Justin kicks the gravel and coughs.
“What the hell?” I whisper, because we were just getting to the good stuff.
“Summer,” he says, giving me an amused look. I guess he has better standards than I do because he pushes me forward, around the corner of the camper.
They must have heard Justin’s warning. My mother sits under the shady canopy. Completely composed and drinking wine. With Richard.
“Oh, Summer,” she says, when she sees us. There’s an awkward be
at. “You met Richard at the party, right?”
“Yes, at the cocktail party.” I turn to him. “Justin and Pete showed me around the marina today. Very impressive.”
“Thank you,” he says. He’s dressed casual again. Shorts and a golf shirt. I’d expect more tension between him and my mother but I’m not catching any.
My mother holds up her glass. “If you got Summer out of bed before dawn to go work, then I’m impressed. Did you have fun?”
I glance at Justin but his eyes are on his uncle, and some communication passes through them that I can’t interpret.
“We did. Boat ride and everything,” I say.
Richard lifts an eyebrow and stands, while taking the last sip of his drink. He places the glass on the small patio table when he’s finished. “Thank you for the drink, Julia.” He turns to his nephew and asks, “Can you give me a lift back?”
“Sure,” Justin says, his eyes flicking in my direction. Guess our date-not date is over.
“Nice to see you again, Justin,” my mother says as the two walk away.
The minute they’re out of sight I turn to face my mother. “What’s going on with that?”
“Just two old friends having a drink, that’s all.” She stands up and collects the empty glasses. “I could ask you the same thing.”
I reach for the camper door knob and twist it open. “I’ll let you know when I figure it out,” I tell her, walking into the cool trailer.
I hear the door open behind me as I start tossing my dirty clothes on the bed. I expect her to say something else smart, but instead she places the glasses in the sink and says, “Same.”
Chapter 9
No. No. No. I flip through the racks and racks and racks. No. Definitely not. No. Flip, flip, flip. I find a blue and green flowered tank and bottom and hold it up for Anita.
“No.”
This is never going to work. “Anita, you say no to everything I’ve picked.”
“Well,” she says, shifting Sibley to the other hip, “you say no to everything I pick.”
“You’re unwilling to compromise.”
“Me?” she asks, rolling her eyes. “Right. I’m unwilling.”
“Fine, I’m unwilling to look like a hooker on the beach.”
She holds up a white and pink bikini. “This does not look like something a hooker would wear.” She points across the room to a mannequin dressed in a white bikini with a marijuana leaf embroidered over each boob. “That is trashy. This,” she holds it up to my chest, “is nice.”
I shake my head. “It all feels too revealing. I’m not used to showing so much skin.”
“What, no slutty Halloween costumes?”