Diane Chamberlain - Summer's Child

Chloe stood up and moved to the empty beach chair next to Rory, leaning across him to speak to Daria.

“How’s Shelly?” she asked.

“Isn’t she eating?”

“She said she’s not hungry,” Daria said.

“What’s wrong with Shelly?” Grace asked.

“Where is she?”

“She had a seizure today,” Daria said.

“I think she’s still feeling a little tired from it.”

“Is she at the Sea Shanty?” Grace glanced over her shoulder, where the widow’s walk was barely visible in the darkness.

“No, she’s down there with the kids.” Daria pointed toward the second fire.

Melissa lifted her head to sniff Rory’s food, then leaned against his legs. He scratched her behind her ears.

“My guys are going to miss you when summer’s over,” Linda said to Rory from her seat on the other side of the fire. She had her arm around Jackie.

“Yeah, I was thinking I might have to get me one of these when I get home.” Rory looked down at Melissa’s kind eyes.

“When do you leave?” Ted asked.

“September third.”

“I’m sorry to see you go,” Ted said.

“It’s great seeing you and Daria together.”

Ellen rested her empty plate on the edge of the fire ring.

“So, was this just an end-of-the-summer fling for the two of you?” she asked bluntly.

“What happens next?”

Rory took Daria’s hand again.

“No,” he said calmly.

“It’s not a summer fling. We’ll have to figure out how to keep things going. I’d like to have Daria and Shelly move to California, but Daria doesn’t think that would work out.”

“Shelly would never survive in California,” Daria said. “And she needs me too much for me to just pick up and move three thousand miles away.”

“Oh, for Pete’s sake,” Ellen said.

“When are you going to start living your own life, Daria?”

Rory felt Daria bristle next to him, and Ellen continued.

“It’s like you’re married to her,” she said.

“Ellen, that’s really not fair,” Rory said. He wondered how Ellen could talk that way to Daria, when Daria had been the one to so lovingly raise the child Ellen had abandoned.

“Daria’s done the best job possible with Shelly,” Chloe said to Ellen.

“I agree,” Grace said firmly.

“From what I’ve seen, Daria’s been fantastic for Shelly.”

“Give me a break,” Ellen said.

“If anything, she’s ruined Shelly.”

The atmosphere around the bonfire was suddenly thick with tension.

Mrs. Wheeler told her granddaughters to “go over to the picnic table and get some dessert.” Jill studied her fingernails, and Jackie studiously began petting one of the dogs.

“I’m sorry, Daria,” Ellen continued, “but it’s the truth, and it’s time somebody told you. You’ve made Shelly so dependent on you and on this tiny little corner of the world, that living anywhere else is going to be a major hurdle for her. But it’s a hurdle she has to jump over one of these days, and you need to let her.”

“Don’t you dare give me advice about Shelly.” Daria’s voice was even, too even, and in the firelight, Rory saw the rigid set of her jaw.

“You see her for a couple of days at a time, then you go back to your own, self-absorbed life and complain about what I’ve done with her.

That doesn’t help, Ellen. As a matter of fact, you’ve done nothing to help with Shelly, have you? “

Chloe reached across Rory to wrap her hand around Daria’s arm.

“Daria,” she said softly.

“Not here, sis.”

“You wouldn’t have accepted my help even if I’d offered it,” Ellen said.

“You resented any suggestions I’ve ever made. In my opinion, you should move to California and be with Rory. Leave Shelly here, if this is where she wants to be. She’s an adult now. She’ll survive somehow.”

Daria wrenched her arm free of Chloe’s hand.

“Is that what you thought when you left her on the beach twenty-two years ago?” she snapped.

“That she’d survive somehow?”

The bonfire crackled, waves broke and hissed to shore, and the teenagers laughed. But no one around the bonfire uttered a word. People looked from Daria to Ellen and back again.

Ellen’s mouth dropped open in what Rory guessed to be a pretense of shock.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Ellen bit off each word as it came out of her mouth.

“I’ve had it with your insensitivity to Shelly,” Daria said.

Rory stroked his hand down Daria’s back, wishing there was something he could do to change the direction of her anger. This was not the place or time for a personal confrontation. But Daria seemed completely unaware that her neighbors were even present, much less paying attention to every word.

“Shelly has special needs,” Daria continued.

“And she probably wouldn ‘t have them if you’d… If she’d been born in a hospital to a mother willing to take responsibility for her, she’d probably be fine. You’ve even been a lousy mother to the two daughters you acknowledge as yours.”

Ted leaned forward.

“Daria, you’re off your rocker,” he said.

“If you’ve got a bone to pick with” — “Are you accusing me of being Shelly’s mother?” Ellen interrupted her husband.

“Is that what you’re saying?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Daria said.

“You are losing it, Daria,” Ellen said.

“I didn’t have anything to do with Shelly being dumped on the beach.”

Daria started to stand up, but Rory caught her arm. She looked at him and must have seen the plea in his eyes, because she dropped into the chair again. When she spoke, her voice was calmer.

“I know this isn’t the time for this,” Daria said.

“I’m sorry I spilled it out this way. But it’s the truth, Ellen, and it’s time you admitted it. I found your pukka-shell necklace lying right next to the baby. I’ve known all along. I didn’t say anything back then because I didn’t want to get you in trouble. But it’s twenty-two years later, and it’s time to own up to the fact that Shelly was yours.”

Rory’s gaze was suddenly drawn to Grace. She looked truly ill, her face more ashen than usual. Even the golden flames from the fire brought no color to her cheeks. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but Chloe spoke first.

“I took Ellen’s necklace that night,” Chloe said.

All heads turned in her direction. Sitting right next to her, Rory could see the resolve in Chloe’s face.

“I borrowed it without her permission,” Chloe continued.

“I never knew what happened to it. I guess it fell off while I was…” Her voice trailed off. She stared into the fire, then looked up again, her eyes glassy and apologetic as she turned to Daria.

“Shelly’s mine,” she said. “Chloe.” Mrs. Wheeler breathed the word in disbelief.

Rory’s mind raced. Sean Macy. The priest had been involved with Chloe for many years, had even managed to help her parents adopt Shelly. No wonder he had killed himself when Rory was trying to uncover Shelly’s parentage. He rested his hand lightly on Chloe’s arm.

“Yours and Sean’s,” he said softly, not wanting anyone else to hear.

“No,” she said in a whisper. The piercing look in her eyes was meant just for him, and it sent a chill down his back.

“Not Sean’s,” she said.

Rory went numb as he realized what she was telling him.

“Chloe,” Daria said.

“I don’t understand.” And Rory knew she understood even less than she thought.

“Where’s Shelly?” The voice came from the beach, and Rory turned to see Andy approaching the bonfire.

For a moment, no one said a word; Chloe’s admission had stolen their voices.