I knew the feeling of looking for something better in the distance. “So what exactly happened? Tell me your story.”
“Sugar loved to sneak out at night. She was the adventurous one. Skinny-dipping, smoking cigarettes, sneaking beer from her dad’s fishing cooler. The riskier, the better. During the school year she toned it down, but the minute I arrived each summer we were back to our hijinks. It scared me. I was never one for a lot of risk, but Sugar made me bold. When I was twelve, we snuck out of the house to go night swimming.” She shakes her head at the memory. “Jimmy came with us and brought a friend. Richard.”
“You met when you were twelve?”
“Yep. He was cute, even then. All legs and arms. Shaggy, blonde hair. I had the biggest crush.” I raise an eyebrow but let her continue. “We ended up not that far from here. None of these campers were here then, but our grandparents owned the property. It was all marsh lands and we mucked through the tall grass to get to the edge of the water. I remember being terrified of getting stuck, and at one point losing a shoe in the sticky mud. Richard pulled me out and carried me the rest of the way on his back. I was convinced he saved my life.”
“From that point on, the four of us we were inseparable. I was close to Sugar, of course, but Richard and I had something different. A chemistry that when we were younger was a goofy friendship. Later it became much more.”
“So you loved him?” I ask.
“So much. More than I can describe.”
“I don’t understand how you lost that? How did he fail you?”
“Gaskins messed us all up. Sugar and I were still in high school. Richard was at the Citadel but home for summer break. He’d hardened a bit—school was tough, but we spent the summer playing hard and he had finally begun to relax.
Even though we were older, our grandmother didn’t approve of us being out late, so when we got the idea to go to Myrtle Beach one night we waited until after everyone thought we were asleep and climbed out the window. Richard waited for us a block down the street in his car,” she explains. “We didn’t even make it down there. Just outside of Cherry Grove, Richard’s car died and we had to pull over. Sugar and I went out to help him, and by help, I mean hold the flashlight and wait to wave someone over.”
“That sounds familiar,” I say.
“He’d just repaired the car when Gaskins pulled up. Sugar got in the car and started it while Richard and I came face to face with this dirty old guy. Like Martha told us, Gaskins pretended to want to help. Instead, Richard got a concussion. I have this.” She pulls down her shirt enough for me to see that scar.
“So not from a fence?” I ask.
“I wish. More like a rusty hunting knife. By the grace of God it was the only physical damage he did to me. Richard came to and attacked him. Thank god for that military training. Otherwise we would have been done for. Sugar hid in the car, scared senseless, but she got the car started and was able to drive us away.”
“Wait,” I interrupt. “I don’t understand. If Richard saved you, then why did you run away? Why did you hate him?”
She sighs and looks out past the dunes toward the water. “I suppose I was embarrassed. Gaskins left me compromised. I fared better than his other victims, but I couldn’t get the feel of his hands off of me or the evil look in his eye out of my mind. I wanted away from here and away from anyone involved. Richard and Sugar were collateral damage. Then later, when I found out they had been dating, my heart broke. I felt so betrayed.”
“How could they date after all that?” I ask. “That seems wrong. Really wrong.”
“He was my soul mate, or I thought he was, and I was crushed.” She touches her hair. “But once we had a chance to talk this summer—really talk—I understood better. I abandoned them as much as I thought they abandoned me. They only had each other to talk to about this tragedy, but they didn’t love each other, not like that, and it’s why they didn’t last.”
“So much wasted time.”
She smiles. “When Gaskins was arrested and the extent of his crimes was known, I knew we had escaped the devil that night—barely. That’s when I started writing about these crimes. At first I wrote about local stories or other sensationalized killers, but I was afraid to dig into Gaskins. More and more though, he was in my thoughts, and the more I looked into his story, the more I knew I needed to tell it. I knew there must be others like myself out there.”
“Like Martha,” I say.
“The problem, Summer, is I spent my life running away from this thing. Richard loved me and I loved him. I dare say he’s the love of my life, and I threw it away because of fear. Along with my best friend and cousin. Ultimately, I allowed Donald Gaskins to take that from me. I decided not to allow him to do that anymore.”
I lean over and pulled my mother into a hug, crying the snotty kind of cry people go into when it’s all too much, and you just let go. Her story is too much. Richard and Sugar. It’s all too painful and my stupid affair and dramatics with Mason seem trivial in comparison. “I’m so sorry, Mom,” I manage, but it feels insufficient.
She gathers my face in her hands and shakes her head. “Don’t feel sorry for me. Be happy I finally figured it out. What I want to pass on to you is for you to understand it’s not okay to allow others to create your destiny. Don’t let the choices bad people make rule the way you navigate your life.” She brushes her thumb across my cheek, wiping away a tear. “Do you understand me?”
I nod and choke back a sob, because I do understand her. More than she probably realizes.
* * *
The party divides into several different groups. The family types are down by the edge of the water, supervising the kids, building sandcastles and playing. The adults, the ones my mom’s age, are on the porch, setting out food and r
efilling the coolers with ice. The rest of us, not quite adult, not quite kids, hover somewhere in between. I kind of float around the groups, first spending time with Anita and Bobby by the water, and then helping my mom and Sugar organize the food on the big picnic tables on the porch. Whit, Justin, Nick, and Ivy spend the day in the water, riding waves.
I’m watching them from the boardwalk when Pete stands next to me. “You’re back.”
I jump at his voice and throw my arms around his neck. “I am so glad to see you.”