Debbie Macomber - 74 Seaside Avenue

“Anson isn’t like that.”

“Believe what you want.” She shrugged carelessly. “One thing I’ll say about Anson. He’s got his daddy’s brains. Sure as hell didn’t get ’em from me.”

Allison badly wanted this evening to be special for Anson. She took a deep breath. “It would mean a great deal to Anson if you’d come to the party.” She loved Anson, so she was willing to put aside her own preferences. If, despite everything, he wanted his mother there—and he did—Allison would try to persuade her.

“Party, is it?” She cocked her eyebrows as she flicked the lit cigarette onto the dirt road.

“A farewell party,” she elaborated.

Cherry shook her head. “You won’t need me for that.”

“Anson would like you there,” she said. “Please, Mrs.—Cherry.”

Again his mother declined, shaking her head. “I got things to do.”

“What could be more important than sending Anson off to his new course?” she asked, not understanding how his mother could feel so little pride or concern.

Allison glanced up as a car came toward the trailer, leaving behind a trail of dust. She recognized Shaw’s old Chevy Malibu. He dropped Anson off, waved to Allison, and pulled out again. They’d see him later at the party.

“Sorry I’m late,” Anson said, smiling at Allison and then his mother.

“I was just inviting your mother to join us,” Allison said pointedly.

“And I was just telling your girlfriend I got better things to do than go to some rich man’s house and make nice.”

“It won’t hurt my feelings if you’d rather stay here,” Anson said, not meeting his mother’s eyes.

“I didn’t figure it would,” Cherry told him.

Allison felt him stiffen at that response. Then he turned deliberately away. “Come on, Allison, let’s get out of here.”

“Bye-bye,” Cherry said with a flippant wave. She moved inside the trailer and pulled the door shut.

As soon as his mother was gone, Anson cast Allison an apologetic look. “How long did I keep you waiting?”

“A couple of minutes, that’s all.”

“Did she get on your case?”

“About what?”

“Me and the military.”

Allison shrugged. “Not really.”

Anson released his breath. “She blames you.”

Allison wasn’t worried. Cherry could blame her, for all she cared.

“The military’s my way out, Allison,” he said as if he needed to explain his motivation. “Without it I wouldn’t have a chance of getting an education. Cherry doesn’t seem to grasp that.”

“I know.” Anxious to leave now, she tugged at Anson’s hand. “Come on, let’s go.”

They both climbed into the car and Allison left the trailer park. She drove cautiously to avoid the kids and dogs playing in the dusty roads.

“Is your family expecting us right away?” Anson asked.

“I … I suppose. Why?”

He sent her a quick, secretive smile. “Can we go to the waterfront for a moment?”

“Sure. Anywhere in particular?”

A slow, happy grin spread across his face. “Somewhere private.”

Allison did take her eyes off the road then. She knew a good place down Lighthouse Road and went in that direction. The tide was out, so she pulled onto a stony area near the beach, glancing around to make sure it was as deserted as she’d expected it to be.

There was no one around.

Anson got out of the car and Allison did, too. When he joined her, he took her hand; together they walked the short distance to the water. A log had drifted up onto the shore and they stepped over it, making their way along the pebble beach. A pair of long-legged herons waded in the shallow water and seagulls cawed overhead.

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