We'll Always Have Summer (Summer #3)

We'll Always Have Summer (Summer #3) Page 18

My mother drove, and I sat in front. Steven slept in the backseat, his mouth open. He was wearing a button-down shirt and khaki pants. My mother looked nice too in her navy pantsuit and cream pumps.

“Conrad’s definitely coming today, right, bean?” my mother asked me. “You’re the one who talks to him, not me,” I said. I put my bare feet on the dashboard. My high heels were in a heap on the floor of the car.

Checking her rearview mirror, my mother said, “I haven’t spoken to Conrad in a few weeks, but I’m sure he’ll be there. He wouldn’t miss something as important as this.”

When I didn’t say anything, she glanced at me and said, “Do you disagree?”

“Sorry, Mom, but I wouldn’t get my hopes up.” I don’t know why I couldn’t just agree with her. I don’t know what was holding me back.

Because I really did believe he was coming. If I didn’t, would I have taken extra care with my hair that morning?

In the shower, would I have shaved my legs not once but twice, just to be safe? Would I have put on that new dress and worn those heels that made my feet hurt if I truly didn’t believe he was coming?

No. Deep down I more than believed it. I knew it.

“Have you heard anything from Conrad, Laurel?” Mr. Fisher asked my mother. We were standing in the parking lot of the women’s center—Mr. Fisher, Jere, Steven, my mother, and me. People were starting to file into the building. Mr. Fisher had already checked inside twice: Conrad wasn’t there.

My mother shook her head. “I haven’t heard anything new. When I spoke to him last month, he said he was coming.”

“If he’s late, we can just save him a seat,” I offered.

“I’d better get inside,” Jeremiah said. He was accept-ing the plaque commemorating the day on behalf of Susannah.

We watched him go because there was nothing else to do. Then Mr. Fisher said, “Maybe we should go too,” and he looked defeated. I could see where he’d cut himself shaving. His chin looked raw.

“Let’s do that,” my mother said, straightening up.

“Belly, why don’t you wait here for another minute?”

“Sure,” I said. “You guys go ahead. I’ll wait.”

When the three of them were inside, I sat down on the curb. My feet were hurting already. I waited for another ten minutes, and when he still didn’t show, I got up. So he wasn’t coming after all.

Chapter Twenty

Conrad

I saw her before she saw me. In the front row, I saw her sitting with my dad and Laurel and Steven. She had her hair pulled back, pinned up on the sides. I’d never seen her wear her hair like that before. She had on a light purple dress. She looked grown up. It occurred to me that she had grown up while I wasn’t looking, that there was every likelihood she had changed and I didn’t know her anymore. But when she stood up to clap, I saw the Band-Aid on her ankle and I recognized her again. She was Belly. She kept messing with the barrettes in her hair. One was coming loose.

My plane had been delayed, and even though I’d done eighty the whole way to Cousins, I was still late. Jeremiah was starting his speech just as I walked in. There was an empty seat up front next to my dad, but I just stood in the back. I saw Laurel shift in her seat, scanning the room before turning back around. She didn’t see me.

A woman from the shelter got up and thanked everyone for coming. She talked about how great my mom was, how dedicated she was to the shelter, how much money she raised for it, how much awareness in the community. She said my mom was a gift. It was funny, I’d known my mom was involved with the women’s shelter, but I didn’t know how much she gave of herself. I felt a jolt of shame as I remembered the time she’d asked me to go help her serve breakfast one Saturday morning. I’d blown her off, told her I had stuff I needed to do.

Then Jere got up and went to the podium. “Thanks, Mona,” he said. “Today means so much to us, and I know it would have meant even more to my mom. The women’s shelter was really important to her. Even when we weren’t here in Cousins, she was still thinking about you guys. And she loved flowers. She used to say she needed them to breathe. She would be so honored by this garden.”

It was a good speech. Our mom would have been proud to see him up there. I should have been up there with him. She would have really liked that. She would have liked the roses, too.

I watched Jere sit down in the first row in the seat next to Belly. I watched him take her hand. The muscles in my stomach clenched, and I moved behind a woman in a wide-brimmed hat.

This was a mistake. Coming back here was a mistake.

Chapter Twenty-one

The speeches were over, and everyone had gone outside and started milling around the garden.

“What kind of flowers do you want for the wedding?”

Jeremiah asked me in a low voice.

I smiled and shrugged. “Pretty ones?” What did I know about flowers? What did I know about weddings, for that matter? I hadn’t been to many, only my cousin Beth’s that time I was a flower girl and, our neighbor’s.

But I liked this game we were playing. It was like pretend, but real.

Then I saw him. Standing there in the back was Conrad, in a gray suit. I stared, and he lifted his hand in a wave. I lifted mine, but I didn’t move. Couldn’t move.

Next to me, I heard Jeremiah clear his throat. I started.

I’d forgotten he was standing next to me. For those couple of seconds, I forgot everything and there was just Conrad.

Then Mr. Fisher was pushing past us, striding over to him. They embraced. My mother swept Conrad into her arms, then my brother came up from behind and pounded him on the back. Jeremiah made his way over too.

I was last. I found myself walking over to them. “Hi,” I said. I didn’t know what to do with my hands. I left them at my sides.

He said, “Hi.” Then he opened his arms up wide and gave me a look that was a lot like a dare. Hesitantly, I stepped into them. He crushed me in a bear hug and lifted me off the ground a little. I squealed and held down my skirt. Everyone laughed. When Conrad set me back down, I moved closer to Jere. He wasn’t laughing.

“Conrad’s glad to have his little sister around again,”

Mr. Fisher said in a jovial kind of way. I wondered if he even knew that Conrad and I had once dated. Probably not. It had only been six months. It was nothing compared to the time Jeremiah and I had spent together.

“How have you been, little sis?” Conrad asked. He had that look on his face. Part mocking, part mischievous. I knew that look; I’d seen it so many times.