One Summer

  with stringy gray hair, poured it out for her.

  “Thank you,” said Mikki.

  The woman looked surprised.

  “What?” asked Mikki. She looked down at her jeans and T-shirt. “Something wrong?”

  “You’re not with that group, are you?” said the woman quietly.

  “No, we just came down from Ohio for the summer. Why?”

  “You said thank you.”

  “And that’s, like, unusual?”

  The woman eyed the partygoers. “With some folks it’s apparently impossible. Ohio? Are you Cee Pinckney’s folks?”

  “She was my great-grandmother. I’m Mikki.”

  “Nice to meet you, Mikki. Ms. Pinckney was a fine lady. Sorry she’s gone.”

  “I take it you live in Channing?”

  “All my life, but just not the postcard part.”

  “What?”

  “You know the part you see on postcards? I live in the area tourists never see. We can’t afford the pretty ocean views.”

  “Would that be Sweat Town?”

  “So you’ve heard of it?”

  “Somebody told me. Sounds like where we lived in Cleveland. What’s your name?”

  “Folks call me Fran.”

  “It was nice talking to you, Fran.”

  “Same here, honey.”

  She turned away to serve someone else.

  Troubled by what Fran had told her, Mikki strolled around the pockets of people, many of whom were already wasted. The boys looked at her with lust, the girls with hostility.

  Why did I come?

  “Well, look who we have here.”

  Inwardly groaning, Mikki closed her eyes and then opened them. Things were about to get worse.

  Tiffany stood in front of her, swaying slightly, plastic cup filled with beer in hand. She had on a string-bikini bottom with a mesh cutoff jersey that barely covered her chest. “What’s your name again?”

  Between gritted teeth she said, “Mikki.”

  “Oh, like Mickey Mouse.” Tiffany giggled and looked around at the others and made an exaggerated bow. “Mickey Mouse, people.” Laughter swept through the ranks of the partiers. A nervous-looking Blake ran up and put his arm around Tiffany’s bare waist. “Hey, Tiff, let’s go get something to eat.”

  “Not hungry,” said Tiffany with a pout. Mikki could sense this was her method of getting what she wanted. Putting her thick lips together and acting like a two-year-old.

  Mikki looked at the beer and then eyed Tiffany’s red convertible parked by the catering truck. “Hope you’re not the designated driver.”

  “I can be anything I want,” Tiffany replied, a coy smile on her face.

  Blake pulled on her arm. “Come on, Tiff, let’s get some food. You don’t want to piss off your dad again, remember?”

  “Shut up!” snapped Tiffany. She looked at Mikki. “I hear you and Blake have been running together on the beach.”

  “Yeah, so?”

  “I was just surprised.”

  “Why’s that?” Mikki asked, a hard edge to her voice.

  “I didn’t think he liked hanging out with freaks.”

  Mikki eyed the other girl’s scant clothing. “You know, next time you might want to consider something that actually comes close to covering your big butt.”

  “Shut up!”

  “Okay, I’m leaving now.” Mikki turned to walk away.

  “Hey, I’m talking to you.”

  Tiffany grabbed her shoulder. Mikki’s arms and legs seemed to move of their own accord. Her hand clamped like a vise on the other girl’s wrist. Mikki spun the arm behind Tiffany’s back, jerked upward, angled one of her feet in front of Tiffany’s legs, and gave a hard shove from behind. The next moment Tiffany was lying facedown in the sand, her mesh top up around her head.

  Blake looked at her in amazement. “How’d you do that?” he asked Mikki.

  Mikki looked down at her hands as if they belonged to someone else. “My… my dad taught me.”

  They both looked down at Tiffany, who was spitting out sand and crying. Other people were walking toward them.

  “I’m outta here,” said a panicked Mikki.

  She turned, pushed past some folks, and raced off. As she passed by Fran, the woman winked at Mikki and raised a serving spoon in silent salute.

  40

  Hurrying down the beach, Mikki collided with someone who appeared, ghostlike, out of the darkness.

  “Liam?”

  The tall, gangly Liam had on a hoodie and sweatpants.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked breathlessly.

  “Walking. What about you?” He looked over her shoulder in the direction of the party Mikki had just left. “Tiffany’s party? Don’t tell me you’ve gone over to the dark side?” he said with a grin.

  “It was stupid,” admitted Mikki.

  “Well, if you want to come with me, I’ll show you a much better party.”

  “What?”

  “But I have to warn you, they don’t have caterers.”

  “How’d you know Tiffany’s party was catered?”

  “Because my mom did it for a couple years until little Tiffany demanded alcohol be served. Then my mom told old man Murdoch where to stick it.”

  “Good for her.”

  “Yeah, funny, for some reason, after that, I never got invited to her little shindig. Well, enough about the rich and the spoiled. Let’s get going.”

  He started to walk off, and Mikki hurried after him. “Where to?”

  “Like I said, a better party.”

  The breakers crashed on the beach, providing a slow, melodious chorus to their footsteps slapping against the hard, wet sand. The sounds and the lights reached them about a quarter of a mile down the beach.

  “Is that the better party?” she asked.

  “Yep.”

  As they drew closer, the scene became clearer. The bonfire was full and the flames high. Girls and guys sat around the fire holding out sticks with hot dogs and marshmallows riding on their points. Mikki could hear a guitar strumming and sticks popping on a drum pad. Laughter and whoops amid the crash of waves. There were a few couples making out, but most were just hanging out, talking and dancing.

  “Hey, Liam,” said one guy as he approached them. “Everyone was hoping you’d make it.” He handed them each a long stick. “Dogs are cooking.” They joined the crowd. Mikki could see a few football jerseys, but most were dressed in jeans and T-shirts. There were no designer labels in sight. Everyone greeted Liam with high fives, chest bumps, and knuckle smacks.

  “Pretty popular guy,” Mikki remarked.

  “Nah, the guys think my mom is hot, and the girls want jobs at the Little Bit. They’re just looking to use me.”

  Mikki laughed. “So do all of you go to high school together?”

  “Yeah. But most of these kids are from Sweat Town, which I find a lot more palatable than Tiffany’s mansion crowd.” Liam eyed the two guys playing the guitar and the drum pad. He looked at Mikki. “Want to really get this party cooking?”

  She instantly got his meaning. “Oh, let’s so do it.”

  They played for nearly thirty minutes while the crowd whooped and cheered.

  Mikki sang parts of a song she was working on and that the crowd really got into, even chanting back parts of the lyrics. Then Mikki grabbed the drumsticks and showed herself to be nearly as adept at drums as she was at guitar. Even Liam looked at her in amazement when she finished her set. She explained, “When I formed my band, I learned every instrument. I’m sort of a control freak.”

  Afterward they roasted some hot dogs. When someone started playing tunes off a portable CD player, Liam said, “Hey, you want to do some sand dancing?”

  “What’s that?”

  “Uh, it’s really complicated. It’s dancing in the sand in your bare feet.”

  She smiled. “I think I can manage that.”

  He put both arms around her waist, and she put her hands on his
shoulders. They moved slowly over the beach.

  “Feels sort of cool,” Mikki said. “On the feet,” she added quickly.

  “Me too,” he said, grinning. “Okay, now it’s time for the old tradition of sand angels. Now, that’s—”

  “Let me guess.” She plopped down on her back in the sand and moved her arms and legs up and down.

  Liam joined her. “Wow, brains and beauty.”

  As the music played on, they danced and grew closer.

  “This is really nice, Liam.”

  “Yeah, it is.”

  She cupped his chin with her hand.

  “Mikki?” he said questioningly.

  She kissed him and then stepped back. “I had a great time, Liam. Thanks for bringing me.”

  “Any time. I’m working the late shift this coming week at the Little Bit. Come on down, and I can get you anything you want for free.”

  “How can you do that?”

  “I’m the cook. Ain’t nothing happening without me.”

  Mikki laughed.

  “You need a way home?” he asked.

  “I actually rode a bike I found at the house. Left it up on the street. It’s not that far.”

  “I’ve got a bike too. I’ll ride with you. It’s on my way.”

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  “I know. I want to.” He paused, looking embarrassed. “I mean…”

  “I know what you mean,” she said softly.

  He saw her safely to her house, waved, and rode off.

  When she walked in the house, her dad called out to her from the darkened front room.

  “So?” he said.

  She came forward, squinting in the poor light to see him. He was on the couch looking at her.

  “So what?”

  “Have fun?”

  “Yeah, just at a different party.”

  She told her dad about the evening.

  “Sounds like you made the right choice.”

  She sat down next to him. “So how’s the lighthouse coming? You’ve really been spending a lot of time on it.”

  He looked down. “I know it must seem strange.”

  “Dad, it doesn’t seem strange. Okay, maybe a little,” she amended with a smile. “But you said the reason we came down here was so you could spend more time with us. Remember? But you and Sammy work all the time, and I’m stuck watching Cory and Jackie.”

  Jack’s head dropped lower with this comment. “It’s just… I don’t know. It’s complicated, Mikki. Really complicated.”

  Mikki rose. In a disappointed tone she said, “Yeah, I guess it is.”

  “But I’ll try to get better. Maybe we can do something next weekend?”

  She brightened. “Like what?”

  Jack said lamely, “Um, I haven’t thought of it yet.”

  Her face fell. “Right. Sure. Good night.”

  As she headed up the stairs to bed, Jack started to call after her, but then he stopped and just sat there in the dark.

  Neither one of them noticed Sammy standing at his bedroom door listening to their exchange. The former Delta Force member went into his room, picked up his cell phone, and made a call.

  41

  As Mikki was running on the beach a few days later, Blake joined her.

  He said immediately, “Look, I’m sorry about what happened at the party. Tiff was wasted.”

  “Gee, really?”

  “She’s usually not that obnoxious.”

  “Give me a break. She’s a fricking nightmare in a G-string.”

  “Okay, maybe she is. Where’d you end up?”

  “Another party on the beach.”

  “What party?”

  “One Liam Fontaine took me to. And most of the people there were from Sweat Town. Heard of it?”

  “Mikki, I live in Sweat Town.”

  This stunned her so much she stopped running. “What?”

  “My mom works as the housekeeper for the Murdochs.”

  “Then why do you hang out with Tiffany?”

  “Like I said, my mom works for them.”

  “And what, that obligates you to do her bidding?”

  Blake laughed nervously. “I don’t do her bidding. I just hang out with her sometimes.”

  They started running again. “Well, good for you. Who you hang out with says a lot about a person.”

  “Hey, what’s wrong with me being friends with her? Are you saying poor people can only hang out with other poor people?”

  “No, of course I’m not saying that.”

  “I have a lot of friends in Sweat Town. I play football with a bunch of them. And I go to Tiffany’s and she has cool stuff and I have fun with her. So what?”

  “Look, do what you want.”

  “Well, what I want is to go out with you.” This time Blake stopped running, forcing Mikki to do the same. “So how about it? Will you go out with me?”

  “Why?”

  “Why? Because I like you.”

  “You don’t really know me.”

  “Which is a perfect reason to go out. To get to know each other better. But hey, if you’re not interested, forget it. Have a good one, and I’m sorry I don’t fit your idea of a perfect person. Maybe Liam does.” He started to jog off in the other direction.