A Long Walk Home. Diane Amos
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sent me the crooked grin I loved. “At the Holiday Inn in Portland. That way if you decide to visit wearing a skimpy maid costume, you won’t have far to drive.”
This was the Tony I knew.
And loved.
“What do you think?” I asked Tony, surveying my handiwork.
“Any girl would be happy with this room.” He set down the television he was carrying on the cedar chest that I’d moved against the wall across from the bed. He plugged in the portable DVD player I’d bought for Summer so she could have some privacy while she was here, especially if Tony’s daughter and her friends came to visit.
I glanced at my watch again and noticed only ten minutes had elapsed. My stomach felt queasy. The last time I’d seen Summer, she’d been eight, a freckle-faced angel who giggled at everything I said. She’d squealed with delight at the doll and the tea set I’d bought her. By the way her voice had rung with excitement at doing simple things like feeding fries to the seagulls on the wooden pier at Old Orchard Beach, and playing skeet ball, and going on rides, you’d have thought she’d never been to an amusement park. But according to Dana, she had.
Summer’s visit had been too short. I’d catalogued our time together under special memories and thought of my niece frequently.
What was Summer like now?
Was she into drugs?
I hoped not, but the possibility existed. What had become of the happy child left to fend for herself in the worst possible environment?
“I can’t wait to see her again,” I said to Tony who’d finished hauling up my purchases.
“Summer is one lucky kid to have you for an aunt.”
“I hope she feels that way, too.”
“Even my daughter would love these CDs. So a kid who hasn’t had much of anything should be ecstatic.”
“I hope so.”
He took my hand and led me down the stairs into the bedroom we shared. I watched him fold a few pairs of pants and several shirts and stack them into a duffel bag he’d put on the bed. “I’m only taking a few things. Keep my side of the bed warm, I’ll be back in a few days.”
Vi and I arrived at the Portland Jetport half an hour early. On the second floor, a glass wall and security guards prevented us from going farther so we waited near the glass door where we’d see Summer the instant she walked through.
“Thanks for coming with me,” I said.
“I wouldn’t have missed it. The poor child needs lots of support. I’m here for you and for her.”
I checked my watch once more. Only five minutes had gone by since the last time I’d checked.
Vi held her purse in one hand and a purple gift bag in the other, containing a small stuffed moose with the word Maine embroidered on its belly.
I carried a small brightly wrapped box tied with a red bow, which contained the charm bracelet I’d bought. I’d spent way more than I’d intended. At first I’d gone to the jewelry store wanting to buy a silver bracelet, but the gold ones had looked so much nicer. Since I only had one niece and no children of my own, I’d decided to splurge.
I hoped our gifts would help to cheer up Summer.
Some time later a group of passengers started toward the glass doors. I spotted a pretty blond girl at the same instant as Vi.
“Is that her?” Vi asked.
“I don’t know.” I waved a small card with the name Summer.
The girl looked at me blankly right before she was greeted by two people who could have been her parents.
I kept a watchful eye on the door. Several guys with Bates College lettermen jackets walked out, an older couple, a few businessmen with briefcases and a mother and a toddler pushing a stroller.
I’d begun to worry that something was wrong when a strange-looking girl appeared. Her short hair was dyed black with a red stripe along one side of her head. White makeup covered her face, and her eyes were ringed with black. She wore a dark, wrinkled shirt with holes at her elbows, and a black skirt that skimmed the top of scuffed army boots. Her ears, eyebrows, right nostril and her lower lip were pierced, her mouth traced in black. In her hands she carried a partially filled trash bag.
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.”
CHAPTER 4
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