52. Summer
Summer
Tote bag over my shoulder, I head up Main Street. I pass the medical center, S?ren’s hair salon, and a pizza place where two kids sit on the sidewalk, splitting a slice.
At the next corner, I turn left, toward a cluster of low-rise buildings I’ve never had any reason to visit. Jace gave me the address last night, lying on his back, telling me about his mother’s moves—first after Tom died, then after the shark.
The building is beige stucco, three stories, with a shared front door and a row of mailboxes on the left. On the ground floor, a laundromat is lit up, empty.
The contract could wait. I could email it or slip it under Jace’s door on my way out. But I’m leaving Coral Bay tonight.
So everything has to be settled tonight.
I read the names by the buzzers. Walker, third floor. I climb. The stairwell smells of varnished wood. One flight of stairs, a landing, another flight.
I stop in front of the door. I take the contract for Maggie out of my tote bag and knock. Quick footsteps, a muffled sound inside. The door opens.
Avery appears, barefoot. She’s grown—that’s my first thought. Her hair is long, sandy blonde, lightened at the ends. Two faded-blue streaks fall to one side, with little beads worked into a braid above her ear. She has Jace’s eyes, Noah’s jaw. I see them both in her.
Her hand stays on the door handle. She doesn’t step back.
“Hey, Avery. Is your mom home?” I ask.
She glances down at the contract in my hand and stiffens.
“No.”
Her hand tightens on the door handle.
“You’re leaving again, huh?”
I don’t answer. She takes a step out onto the landing.
“You come to get your papers signed and you take off. Again.”
She’s talking fast, getting louder.
“He’s not good enough for you, is that it?”
I swallow. The contract burns against my palm.
“No, Avery, I—”
“He’s finally doing okay again. And you show up tonight to wreck him. The first time wasn’t enough?”
I could hand her the contract, say, “Give this to your mom,” turn around. I don’t. She loves her brother and she’s fighting for him. I don’t blame her.
“Something happened,” I say.
“When?”
“Six years ago.”
She doesn’t move. She studies me.
“Avery, can I come in for a couple of minutes?”
She hesitates. Then she steps back, opens the door wider. I go in. The apartment is small, clean, almost bare. My eyes move from the beige fabric couch to the coffee table, to the book sitting on it, then to the open kitchen tucked into one corner of the living room.
On a low cabinet against the wall, I notice two photos.
The first one is old: Tom and Maggie by the sea, young. Jace looks about three; he’s leaning against Tom’s leg. Noah is still a baby in Maggie’s arms.
The second is more recent: Avery on a beach, a trophy in one hand, her surfboard under the other arm, hair plastered to her forehead.
Avery shuts the door and moves toward the couch, arms crossed, chin up. I set the contract on the coffee table. I don’t sit; neither does Avery.
“I wasn’t planning to tell you why I’m leaving… but I can’t let you think I’m just taking off like that.”
She uncrosses her arms.
“Okay.”
An “okay” that means “Go ahead, but don’t lie to me.”
“Jace and I dated six years ago. We slept together one night, at my grandparents’ house. It was my first time.”
Avery doesn’t say anything.
“The next day, I had to go back to New York earlier than planned. There’d been water damage in the apartment.
I wanted to say goodbye to Jace before I left, but I didn’t know where he was.
I went to the diner, where Noah worked. I walked in.
Luke and Ryan were there too, at the counter. None of them saw me.”
I don’t have to search for the words. They come easily.
“Noah told Luke that Jace had won his bet. A hundred dollars to get me to lose my virginity.”
Avery’s eyes go wide.
“I left right after, with my dad. I blocked Jace’s number. Noah’s too. I didn’t know about the shark until last week.”
Avery opens her mouth, closes it again.
“I came back to Coral Bay this month to deal with the house I inherited. I figured I’d sell and leave. I didn’t think I’d see Jace again. I didn’t think I’d fall back in love with him.”
My voice breaks on the last word. I keep going.
“I’ve tried twice to talk to him about the bet since I came back. The first time, he laughed. ‘It was stupid. We were young, we were idiots. Sorry, okay?’ The second time, he said, ‘Can’t we just move on?’”
Avery stares at the coffee table in silence.
“He never apologized. He didn’t get what he’d done. To him, it’s just some teenage screwup you brush aside. To me, it’s six years of being nothing but a fucking bet.”
I breathe in before I go on.
“I love him, Avery. But I can’t build anything with him if he doesn’t understand what he did. I want to trust him, but I can’t.”
Avery looks up at me and shakes her head.
“He’s told me more than once that if some guy ever hurt me, he’d kick his ass. So what does that make what he did to you?”
I don’t have an answer.
“Shit… Does he know you’re leaving?”
“No.”
“Are you going to tell him?”
“I’ll drop off a letter for him at the lodge’s front desk. I’m leaving tonight.”
She nods and picks up the contract from the coffee table.
“I’ll give it to Mom when she gets home.”
“Thanks.”
“He’s an idiot, Summer.”
I laugh, no humor in it. She doesn’t say “stay” or “give him a chance.”
“I know.”
I shift my tote bag on my shoulder.
“Goodbye, Avery.”
She doesn’t answer.
I cross the living room, open the door, and step out onto the landing. I stop two steps down and turn back. Avery is in the doorway, lips pressed tight, the contract in her hand.
I head down the stairs.