shrug. Instead, Summer lifted eyes filled with contempt. “Stop trying to pretend you’re both so happy to have me here.” Had her voice not broken I might have missed the fear beneath the tough facade.
For a moment I saw a vulnerable little girl afraid of being hurt again, afraid of being left with strangers, afraid of being abandoned by a mother who’d let her down.
The helpless look vanished when Summer sneered. “I see right through you. Well, I’m not any happier to be stuck here with you two than you are with me. I’ll be out of this frigging hick state as soon as my mother comes for me. So till then, let’s cut the goody-goody crap.” Tears rimmed her eyes.
“Oh, Summer, you’re wrong about that….” Wanting to comfort my niece, I stepped closer and reached for her shoulder, but she retreated with a warning glance. As I lowered my hand, I wondered how I’d be able to help her when she clearly didn’t want me near.
Violet gasped, shock rippling over her features. “I don’t mind saying your speech leaves much to be desired. You have a lot of changes to make if you ever hope to grow into a fine young lady.”
“If being a fine young lady means acting like a prissy old bitch, I’ll pass.” Satisfaction danced in Summer’s teary blue eyes as she swung her glance from Vi to me and back to Vi.
As if they had a mind of their own, the fingers of my right hand jerked up and sliced across the air. I caught myself just in time, or I’d have slapped Summer’s face. I’d come damn close. Too close. Shame rushed through me. Heat rose to my cheeks.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean that. I would never hit you.”
A knowing smile curved Summer’s lips. “Yeah, right.”
Violet’s jaw hung open for a moment before she snapped her mouth shut and slid onto the front seat.
I knew Summer had chosen her words for shock value.
She’d succeeded.
She’d insulted Violet.
More important, what was wrong with me? Until now, I’d never come close to hitting anyone. I’d have a long talk with Summer later. That way I wouldn’t be reprimanding her in front of Vi. Then I’d apologize to her again for losing control. Maybe I could persuade her to apologize to Vi.
Like that was going to happen any time soon.
I sent Vi a rueful look. She patted my hand and whispered, “Don’t worry about it, dear.”
A new wave of shame washed over me as I realized I couldn’t wait for Summer to leave.
Summer’s stony gaze pierced right through me as she scooted into the back seat and slammed the door.
I longed for the sweet young girl she’d been and the closeness we’d shared years ago.
I rounded the front of my car and slipped inside. No one spoke as I maneuvered the vehicle onto the Maine Turnpike and twenty minutes later took the Gray exit. I dropped off my mother-in-law first. As I continued toward home, I could hear Summer sniffing behind me. In the rearview mirror, I watched her wipe away tears from her face with the back of her hand. Trails of pale flesh crisscrossed her thick white makeup. Summer resembled a young child at Halloween, who’d discovered too late that her bag of candy had a hole in it.
If only her problems were that simple.
No matter what Summer said or did, I’d be patient with her. Surely I could handle being with my niece for a few days.
I vowed again to do my best to look beneath the surface and find the child I remembered.
And loved.
Tony’s Porsche pulled into my driveway three hours later. Relieved to see him stroll up my walk, I opened the door and rushed outside to meet him. My cardigan sweater fluttered in the cool evening breeze. As I reached up to brush a dark strand of hair that had fallen over his forehead, he pulled me against him. My arms circling his neck, I absorbed his warmth and his strength, my pent-up emotions and stress forgotten for a moment as his mouth came down on mine.
“How about we slip into the back seat of my car for a quickie,” he murmured against my lips.
I chuckled. “There’s no backseat.”
“I’ll make do.”
“I bet you would.” I moved away and, taking his hand, led him inside the house. “Thanks for coming over. I could really use some advice.”
“Has your niece come out of the bedroom yet?”
“No, not even to eat supper.” I worried my lower lip, not caring that my bad habit showed lack of confidence. When it came to Summer, I had no idea what to do, what to say, how to act.
Tony released my hand and wrapped his arm around my shoulder. “She’ll come down when she’s hungry enough.”
“I guess so. How’s your room at the motel?”
“Nothing special. Thankfully it’s only for a few days.”
“A few days could be a very long time. I’m in way over my head. What do I know about talking to a teenager?”
He kissed the tip of my nose. “You’ll do fine, and if you have any questions, I’m only a phone call away. Also, I spoke to Chelsea. She thinks hanging out with someone from Los Angeles would be cool.”
“That’s great.” If nothing else it would give me some time away from Summer. Guilt flowed through me. If they gave out an award for the worst aunt of the year, the trophy would be sitting on my mantel.
Tony crossed the room and opened the glass door to the cabinet where I stored a few bottles of wine and brandy. “Would you like a glass?”
“Sure.”
He poured white merlot into two glasses and after handing me one, sat on the couch. I lowered myself next to him.
“How did you get your daughter to agree?” I asked.
“I told Chelsea I’d finance a shopping spree to the mall if she volunteered to introduce your niece to her friends tomorrow after school.”
In our short phone conversation, I hadn’t had a chance to explain that Summer was…well…a bit different. “Summer wears a lot of makeup,” I said, realizing this was an understatement.
He shrugged nonchalantly. “So does Chelsea…when her mom isn’t looking. The last time I picked Chelsea up she looked like a raccoon with her eyes lined in black.”
“She wears heavy army type boots.” Probably to kick the butts of unsuspecting old ladies.
Tony laughed. “You worry too much. All teenagers experiment with clothing. For months last year my daughter wouldn’t go out the door without her oversized camouflage jacket she’d purchased for two bucks at Goodwill. She resembled an emaciated hunter.”
Was Tony right? Was I overreacting?
“How
