Sun-Kissed Christmas (Summer) (14 page)

“What if my mom doesn’t come back? Ever?”

Diana squeezed Sarah’s hand. Maybe it was time to stop telling fairy stories about Santa. After Christmas came and went, it’d be time to call social services and send Sarah on her way. Diana’s little rescue attempt would be over, and Sarah’s nightmare would just be starting.

Diana tried to imagine dropping her off at some cramped, crowded little office in a few days. But she couldn’t seem to get her mind around the notion of saying good-bye that way.

“Sometimes, Sarah, people let us down,” Diana said. “They don’t mean to, maybe. But they do.”

“What people?”

Boyfriends. Mothers. Diana sighed. “All kinds of people. Maybe even Santa. Maybe even your mom.”

Sarah just stared at her, uncomprehending. Lost.
Well, who could blame her, really? Diana thought with sudden anger.

“I have an idea,” she said. “Let’s open a present.”

“It’s not Christmas.”

“It’s almost midnight. That’s good enough.”

“You open one too.”

“Okay. If you say so.”

Diana returned to the front of the barn, where her friends were playing poker. She grabbed Mallory’s present and the stuffed lamb Summer had wrapped.

When she returned to Sarah’s cot, the little girl was sitting up expectantly. “Here,” Diana said. “This is from me to you.”

Carefully, Sarah unwrapped the gift. It wasn’t the frantic clawing Diana remembered from her own childhood. Sarah unwrapped as if the paper itself were a gift.

At last she opened the box. “It’s a lamb,” she said without much feeling.

“A new lamb. Nice and clean, with no stuffing problems. Isn’t he cute?”

Sarah nodded.

“He’s bigger too. And he has a little bell around his neck. We could give him a name if you want.”

“I already have a lamb.” Sarah clutched her old lamb tightly.

“I know. I just thought …” Why hadn’t she listened to Marquez? Of course Sarah wouldn’t want a replacement. It was the only thing from her old life she had to hang onto. “Never mind. Maybe they can be friends.”

“You open yours.”

Diana stared at her mother’s scrawled handwriting on the package. “Why don’t we wait until tomorrow? I’m kind of tired.”

“You said.”

“Okay. But if it’s hideous, don’t laugh. My mother has eccentric taste.”

Diana opened the outer box. Inside was another battered cardboard box. Odd. Mallory usually had things gift-wrapped.

“What is it?” Sarah asked.

“I don’t know. Clothes, maybe? Here.” Diana passed the box to Sarah. “You open it.”

After a couple of tries, Sarah managed to loosen the top of the box, revealing layers of white tissue paper. Diana reached for the small white envelope tucked inside.

“Go ahead,” she said without interest. “See what it is.”

While Diana opened the envelope, Sarah dug through the tissue paper. Suddenly she gasped.

Diana looked up. Sarah was holding a doll. An old
doll with bent wings and a torn white dress and a long tangle of wiry yellow hair.

“She’s beautiful,” Sarah whispered.

“She’s something, all right,” Diana murmured as she opened the card.

D—

Want you to know I went to every damn secondhand shop in L.A. before I found her. How’s that for motherly devotion?

I love you.

P.S. Her name’s Veronica.

Diana put the card back in its envelope. She felt a tingle creep up her spine. “You like her?” she asked.

“She’s an angel, see?”

“Yeah, well, I suppose that could be debated.” Diana smiled as she straightened the doll’s droopy wings. “How about if you take care of her for me, Sarah?”

“But she’s yours.”

“I think she’d rather be with you. But get ready, it’s real hard work, being a mom—much harder than it looks. I’ll help you name her, though. Tomorrow we’ll think of a name together.”

Sarah considered. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” Diana said. She kissed the top of Sarah’s head, grateful for the darkness that hid the tears in her eyes. “I have the card. That’s all I really need.”

Santa Comes Through

Summer awoke in the barn early Christmas morning. She sat up on her elbows in her cot. Everyone was asleep except Austin. His sleeping bag was empty.

She put on her shoes and slipped outside. The air was a surprise—wet, cold, still promising a storm. The sky was heavy with low-slung clouds, muting the dawn light.

Summer clutched at her sweater, shivering. Her breath made little clouds. Winter breath. It made her ache for home.

She headed toward the beach. The sand was dark brown, still wet from the storm, pocked and barren as a moonscape. The ocean barely moved.

She’d walked only a few minutes when she spotted Austin. She knew he’d be there. He was sitting on the sand, half hidden by a tall clump of sea grass. He didn’t say anything when she sat beside him.

“Merry Christmas,” she said softly.

For the first time Austin glanced at her. He looked as if he hadn’t slept. “Yeah,” he said. “You too.”

“Harris and Vera seemed awfully happy last night, huh?”

Austin nodded. “You were right about them. Chalk one up for incurable romanticism.”

“You don’t sound very happy about it.”

“I am.” Austin rubbed his eyes. “Really I am. It’s just hard to admit that if you’d listened to me, Harris
would be all alone in his town house right now, potting some plant. Instead it’s like he’s starting his life all over again.”

The drone of a small plane met their ears, buzzing insistently in the clouds. Suddenly it broke through, skimming their underside as it swooped west.

“Do you remember that day we met on the plane?” Summer said. “How I was trying to cheer you up with this story about that tarot card lady who read my future on my first trip to Florida?”

“I remember, more or less. I was preoccupied at the time, thinking about how blue your eyes were. Trying to figure out how I was ever going to come up with a way to write about them without resorting to some huge cliché.”

“That’s sweet. But mostly I think you were upset about going to see your dad in the hospital.”

“True. I was giving you the Harlequin romance version.”

“Well, I went on and on—I was in full babble mode—about how she told me I’d meet three guys that first summer. One mysterious, one dangerous, and one who’d be the right one. And the funny thing was, she turned out to be right.” She hesitated. “You asked me if I was sorry about her telling me what was going to happen. About knowing the future.”

“And you said you didn’t believe in that sort of thing, so it didn’t really matter.” Austin gazed out at the gray ocean. “But she
was
right.”

“No. She wasn’t right, not completely. Diver was the mysterious one. And Adam was the dangerous one. But Seth … Seth wasn’t the right one.”

“Who was, then?”

Summer let the question hand in the icy air. “The thing is, you can’t know the future, Austin.”

“Oh, yes, you can,” he said darkly.

Slowly Summer slipped her hand in his. She moved closer, close enough for their shoulders to touch. She looked out at the ocean with him.

“Things change,” she whispered. “They’ll find a cure, Austin.”

Moments passed, filled with the rustle of the sea grass and the murmur of the waves. Summer waited. She couldn’t seem to think, or hope, or even breathe. All she could do was sit there, frozen in the sand, and wait.

Finally Austin stood. His stance was rigid, but his shoulders seemed to tremble. He looked at her with hard angry eyes glinting with tears.

“He told you,” Austin said, his voice as bitter as the wind.

“No, not exactly. I figured it out.” Her voice was
choked. She realized she was crying. “I should have known a long time ago. I should have just … sensed it. I should have.”

“And why is that?”

“Because I love you.” Summer reached out her hand, sobbing. “Austin. Please. Don’t you see it doesn’t matter to me?”

He pulled his hand away. “Don’t you see it does matter to me? Don’t you see it’s the only thing that matters?”

“Austin”

“Leave me alone, Summer.” Austin moved away from her down the beach. His tears were falling freely now, his rigid shoulders slumped. “I just can’t do this,” he whispered. “It isn’t worth it. It hurts too much.”

He walked several more steps before he turned around again. “Leave me alone for good.”

“Santa didn’t come,” Sarah said as Diana led her into Vera’s parlor that morning.

“Sure he did. Look at all the presents under that tree.”

“You bought those,” Sarah said accusingly.

“Fresh coffee and orange juice for everyone,” Vera announced, carrying a silver tray into the room. “Most of our guests have already checked out, so we’ll have the place pretty much to ourselves this morning.”

“Nice fire, Harris,” Marquez said.

“I haven’t had a fire in that fireplace in years!” Vera exclaimed. “The thermometer read thirty-three this morning, can you imagine?”

Summer came into the room. Her hair was windblown, and she looked as though she’d been crying. “Summer!” Marquez said. “Where’ve you been, girl?”

“I went for a walk on the beach,” Summer said softly.

“You okay?” Diana asked.

“Fine.”

“Did you happen to run into Austin?” Harris asked.

Summer nodded. “I don’t know where he is now, though.”

“Well, then, I guess my announcement will have to wait,” Harris said with a mischievous grin.

“What announcement?” Marquez asked.

Harris put a finger to his lips. “All in good time, my dear.”

“So, are we all more or less here?” Vera asked.

“Except for Austin,” Diver said.

And Jennie, Diana added silently, hugging Sarah close.

“Let’s start.” Marquez rubbed her hands together. “Come on, Sarah. You’re the one with all the goodies. Open something.”

“Where’d the angel doll come from?” Summer
asked.

“Mallory,” Diana said, smiling. “Not your usual Mallory gift, hmm?”

“I’m sure there’s a story there,” Summer said questioningly.

Diana nodded. “A long one.”

“Tell Summer your angel doll’s name, Sarah,” Marquez urged.

“Her name’s Diana,” Sarah said proudly.

Marquez laughed. “No typecasting there.”

Vera glanced out the window and moaned. “Oh, dear. More guests, on Christmas morning? Someone’s driving up. You go ahead and start opening, Sarah. I’ll be right back.”

Diana handed Sarah a flat, square package filled with books. “We’ll start with the good-for-you-stuff,” Marquez added. “I helped with that.”

But Sarah wasn’t listening. She was busy rummaging through the pile of gifts.

“What are you looking for, hon?” Diana asked gently.

“I thought maybe Santa might have left a note for me. You know.”

Diana looked over at her friends helplessly.

“Maybe he got a little mixed up, Sarah,” Summer offered. “His sleigh might have gone off course.”

“Yeah. Santa’s lousy at directions,” Marquez
added. “Sometimes he gets real mixed up.”

“Sometimes,” came a soft voice, “moms do too.”

Everyone turned. Sarah looked up. Her eyes went wide. “Mom?”

“Come here, sweet pea.”

Sarah galloped into Jennie’s arms. Behind her stood Seth, car keys in his hand.

“Santa brought my mom!” Sarah cried to Diana.

Jennie sniffled. “Actually, Seth here brought me.”

“I just helped out at the end,” Seth told Sarah. “Santa did the hard part.”

“What are you doing here?” Diana asked, staring in amazement from him to Jennie and back again.

“I made my grandfather and aunt do presents at the crack of dawn so I could get over here,” Seth explained. He paused to kiss her. “On the way, I stopped at your house to check on the storm damage, see if there was anything I could salvage. When I got there, the note you’d left on the door was gone. I figured it had blown away. But just as I was leaving, I passed this girl on the street, carrying a piece of paper. And I don’t know why, but I stopped and asked her if she needed a lift.”

“I tried to get back sooner, but my car broke down on me,” Jennie said, rocking Sarah in her arms. “I’m … so sorry about everything. I just kind of went crazy for a minute. I got laid off from my job, and then we got evicted, and it was all just getting so bad.
And when I thought about another Christmas with no toys …” She hung her head. “It’s no excuse, I know. I don’t have any excuse.”

“Don’t cry, Mom. I got lots of presents,” Sarah said happily. “An angel doll and a lamb. And Santa’s bringing us a house.”

“A what?”

“Um, Santa’s still kind of working on that one, Sarah,” Diana said. “Remember?”

Jennie gazed around the room, taking in sympathetic faces. “I knew you’d take good care of her,” she said shyly. “I knew I was right about you.”

“I had fun, Mom. I sleeped with a horse. And I made sand castles.”

“And she learned how to accessorize,” Diana added.

“And I saw Santa,” Sarah continued. “He has pimples and he’s kind of grouchy.”

Jennie kissed Sarah’s cheek. “God, I missed you, baby.”

Watching Sarah and Jennie together, Diana felt a strong mix of relief and happiness and melancholy. “What will you do now, Jennie?” Diana asked. “About work and all?”

“Um, I don’t know, exactly. I’ve got a friend who’s making some money up in Miami as a maid. I thought maybe I’d head up there, see what I can find.”

“You know,” Vera said, “if you’re looking for a job as a maid, Jennie …” She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t put you on the spot this way. It’s just that I could use an extra pair of hands around here desperately. I can only pay a little over minimum wage, but I could include room and board.” She paused. “It’s just a thought.”

Jennie blinked. “You mean … live
here
?”

“I know it’s a little isolated, but—”

“You mean here? In this house? Here?”

“Yes. For as long as you want.”

Sarah whispered something in Jennie’s ear.

“What did she say?”

“She said I should do it because they have cookies and a horse,” Jennie reported. “She also said I was wrong about Santa being bogus.” She nodded at Vera. “I’d be real honored to take you up on your offer. I can start right this minute if you’d like.”