Page 8 of The Summers of Us

“Climb the lighthouse.”

“Party all night.”

“Or until we fall asleep.”

“Eat the whole Hammerhead’s menu.”

“Ew, no.”

“Try all the flavors at Sunset Scoop, but we can share each other’s!”

“And it doesn’t have to be all at one time.”

“What is your obsession with eating everything?”

“Have a spa night.”

“Eat sushi on the beach at night. Just because I’ve always wanted to.”

“Have a kickass July Fourth.”

“Kick Jorge’s ass.”

“Hey! I’ll kick yours instead.”

“Find a perfect lightning whelk.”

“Sleep in.”

“Finally catch a kingfish from the pier.”

“And a blue marlin from the boat!”

“Sneak some beer at Mom’s fiftieth!”

“Dream on.”

I let the moment take me, this slice of living. Far from the golden decks ofKingfish, Everett and I still find each other when there’s nowhere else to look. His knee finds mine again in the darkness. The touch is laced with noxious memories and sweet lullabies I’ve forgotten the notes to.

Even though he can’t see it, the smile on my face doesn’t falter.

Age 10, June 13

When I suggested mini golfafter ice cream at Sunset Scoop, I hadn’t thought Blair would actually agree, but thirty minutes later, we walked into Safari Adventure Mini Golf.

Blair paid the boy dressed as an explorer while I picked a putter and a light blue ball. I pushed Hadley into the elements, a hot Piper Island afternoon disguised as an African safari. The mini golf hut was painted with black and white zebra stripes. A plastic giraffe peeked through the fake trees.

At the first hole, my ball went everywhere on the green except the hole. I tried to blame the sun peering into my eyes, or the pine cones strewn about, or the lion growls from a speaker hidden in the bushes, but in truth, I was just bad.

Blair wasn’t much better. She marked another five for herself on the scorecard with the cute miniature pencil.

A family played in front of us—a mom and dad and a girl and boy who looked close to me in age. The boy got a few hole-in-ones, causing the family to erupt into cheers. His cheeks turned red in embarrassment, but I could see the secret smile on his face. The girl laughed when her dad almost putted the ball into the artificial blue pond.

I smiled. It was nice to see joy; nice to see parents laughing alongside their kids.

At the next hole, too distracted by the hippopotamus peering at me from the water, I hit the ball straight into the pond. I cupped my hand over my mouth, relieved when all Blair did was laugh. I leaned over the thick, damp rope meant to protect people like me from falling in. The ball bobbed like an ice cube in a tall glass, but I couldn’t quite reach it with my putter.

Someone behind me said, “Let me help.”

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