Diane Amos - A Long Walk Home

I waved the card. When she started to walk toward us, I prayed this wasn’t Dana’s child and instantly felt remorse.

“Summer?”

“’Fraid so.”

I reminded myself to breathe. “We’ll go collect your luggage.”

“No need. Got everything right here,” she said, indicating the plastic bag she was holding.

Vi spoke up, and I introduced them. “Summer, how nice to finally meet you,” she said.

“Whatever,” Summer replied.

I spotted a large silver bead on her tongue.

Reaching around her thin shoulders, I gave her a hug, but she stood stiff and unyielding.

“I was starting to worry you’d missed your flight.”

“Wouldn’tcha know, I was the last one allowed to leave the plane. The dude sitting next to me said I’d stolen his wallet. Come to find out the idiot forgot he’d put it in his backpack.”

A s we walked across the street and entered the parking garage, I smiled and tried to make conversation with Summer, who dragged her plastic bag along the pavement and kept her gaze riveted on her boots that looked several sizes too large.

“Are you tired, or would you like to go somewhere? The mall isn’t far from here, and I have a credit card that’s begging to be used.”

She grunted out an impatient sound that was neither a yes nor a no. I chalked up her behavior to exhaustion—and being worried about her mother. I decided to make the most of our short while together. I’d concentrate on the positive and ignore…everything else.

If Summer were spending more time with me, I’d have loved to do something about her clothing, her hair and her makeup. Was that even makeup? Why would such a pretty child want to cover her face with white goop and outline her eyes and mouth in black?

Ghoulish.

Another pang of remorse struck me.

Summer needed my understanding, not criticism. Yet it was difficult to glance at her for even a few seconds without wanting to help transform her—to change everything from the tip of her head right down to her boot-clad feet.

I needed to accept her the way she was.

But could I?

Determined to do my best, I said, “If you’re hungry, we can stop to get a bite to eat.”

“That’s a fine idea. I wouldn’t mind stopping for a piece of pie. How does a burger and some fries sound to you?” Vi asked my niece in a hopeful tone.

Summer’s downcast eyes never wavered. A moment later she gave a halfhearted shrug and bobbed her head from side to side, which I took to mean she wasn’t hungry—or she might be. Since I didn’t want to press the issue, I decided to offer her a sandwich once we arrived at my house.

I tucked the small box with the charm bracelet into my purse, planning to give it to her at a better time.

Would there be a better time?

Communication between us could only improve.

As we neared my Volvo, I pressed the remote to unlock the doors. I started to reach for Summer’s plastic bag but her fingers tightened their grip.

“Would you like to put your things in the back?”

She shook her head and yanked the bag close to her legs as though afraid of losing her few possessions. I smiled reassuringly, but I doubt she noticed because she was too busy examining the ground by her feet.

Violet extended the gift bag beneath Summer’s downcast eyes. “I bought you a welcome to Maine present.”

Summer glanced warily at the package before grabbing the bag from Violet’s hand, and without even glancing inside, shoved it into her plastic bag.

No “thank you” from this kid.

I admonished myself for having such petty thoughts. Summer’s mother was in the hospital. I shouldn’t be focusing on her appearance and poor manners.

Maybe it was a good thing I’d never been blessed with my own children. A fleeting pang of regret twisted inside.

Violet opened the front door and stepped aside so Summer could enter. “If you’d like, you can sit up front with your aunt. I don’t mind the back seat.”

The child hesitated. I’d expected either no reply or another 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.