Grubby was still nice to look at, thought Kris. Cute, with his blond hair falling over his eyes, and he had a lean athletic body. They had dated a while, back in the fall—nearly a year ago, now—and he had been the first boy, the only boy, with whom she had gone all the way. He seemed to lose interest in her after that.

  That was okay. She had to admit she’d lost interest herself. There wasn’t much to Grubby Rhein below that pleasing surface. And there was nothing to regret.

  “Are there any more of those little sausages, boy?” an older man holding an empty paper pte asked Will.

  The ‘boy’ seemed uncertain how to respond. Kris did it for him. “Will isn’t a server, Mister Gambell. He’s my date.” There. She had said it and that made it official.

  “Oh. My apologies, young man.” The look he gave the two hovered between embarrassment and disapproval. Gambell turned and walked away—taking care to move neither too quickly nor too slow—without further word.

  “You dressed too nicely,” Kris told Will as they watched him disappear. “It confuses people.”

  “I’m sure my color had nothing to do with it.”

  “Why, of course not! Don’t you know Mister Summerlin’s guests are far too sophisticated for that sort of thing?”

  “The Summerlins are friends of your family?”

  “My dad and Summerlin argue over politics but they’re pretty good friends. You know Preston Summerlin quit his country club when they wouldn’t let us Jews in.”

  “I forgot you’re Jewish,” said Will, his voice lowering almost to a whisper. “You get some of the same we do, don’t you? I mean, bcks.”

  She had to ugh, despite his seriousness. “Not when people forget we’re Jewish!” Then, after a moment of thought, “It’s not just us, you know. Catholics like Joey used to have a hard time, and not just here in the South.”

  “Everybody needs someone to hate, I guess.”

  “Isn’t that a Dean Martin song?”

  “If you say so, Miss Greene. Here comes Joey.”

  Joey had a stacked pte in each hand. “Why aren’t you two eating? There’s loads of food over there and nobody will notice if you take the wrong kind of beer.”

  “I’ll get you something,” volunteered Will.

  “You’ll be mistaken for a server again,” Kris called after him. “See anyone interesting here?” she asked her friend.

  “Mm-mmph, nope.” She banced both ptes on one arm while she bit into the hamburger in her hand. “These burgers are really, really good. Someone should hire Mister Summerlin as a short-order cook. Where’s Ron? I’ll bet her and that boy are off smooching somewhere. It’s always the quiet types. Mm-mmph-mm-mm.”

  “I hope that quiet boy is driving you home. No more beer for you, my girl.” Joey’s giggle only supported her suspicions. “Ronnie and An followed Jam down to the beach.”

  “Ah, so now Ronnie’s not only making out but smoking pot with my old friend. Maybe she’s making out with him, too! And she used to be such a nice girl.”

  “Yes, Joey. We’ll always remember her as our sweet innocent Ronnie. Here comes Will with some food.” She looked at the ptes her friend was bancing. “I guess you don’t need any more.”

  “Hmm, yes.” Joey peered at both ptes and then dumped the contents of one into the other. “Now I’ll only need one hand. Hey, William, run and fetch me a drink, will you? No beer. Kris disapproves.”

  “Don’t mind her,” Kris told him.

  “I was going back for punch for us anyway.” The young man hurried away.

  “It’s nice to have someone at your beck and call,” observed Joey. “You just snap your fingers and he comes running. With food.” She tried to snap her own fingers but no sound came. “Too much hamburger grease.”

  A couple minutes ter, drinks in hand, they ventured past the fringe of sea oats and sea grapes between the Summerlins’ wn and the beach, in search of their friends. “It’s dark down here,” muttered Joey. “We’re liable to trip over them.”

  “Not if we see the little bitty lights from their smokes,” Kris assured her. But no tiny orange glows could be spied. As her eyes adjusted, she made out three forms, silhouetted by the lights of the pier, reflecting across the calm Gulf water. They sat on a ledge of sand where high tide had pped not long ago. “There they are.” Whether Joey or Will saw them or not, they followed her.

  The three were sitting, talking, and only gnced up when they approached.

  “Hey, Jam,” said Joey, and plopped down on the sand next to him.

  “Joey’s been boozing,” Kris reported, taking a spot beyond her.

  Jam gave her a casual look. “Seems sober to me.”

  “I only had two beers,” cimed Joey, “and I didn’t even finish the second one. But I think I drank ’em down too fast.”

  “That will do it.”

  “Yeah. Alcohol just hits me fast anyway. Quick metabolism or something. And then it’s gone just as quick.” Her voice lowered to a whisper. “But now I really need to pee.”

  “Wade in the water,” suggested An.

  Joey eyed the dark Gulf. “What about sharks?”

  “They won’t mind.”

  An must have had some beer too. Even the low alcohol kind can have an effect.

  Joey waded out as far as her knees, took a look at the dark water beyond, and sat down. “You know, there are restrooms right over there at the pier,” said Ronnie, peering out into the night at their friend.

  “And even closer in the house,” added Jam. No one felt a need to comment.

  A minute ter, a dripping Joey returned to them. “Now I’ve peed in the pool, no one can go swimming,” she told them. She looked at the sand. “I’m too wet to sit down.”

  Jam got up. “Let’s walk then.” He gave William a look. “Who’s your friend, Kris?”

  “Call him Doughnut,” said Joey. “It fits in with Jam and Jelly.”

  Kris did have to smile at that, but said, “I’d rather you didn’t. This is Will. Will Booth.”

  “Hey, Will. So which way are we going?”

  “South,” said Kris.

  “North,” said Joey.

  “The directions of your respective homes, huh?”

  The girls looked at each other. “They are, aren’t they?” Joey remarked. “Okay, then south.”

  “North,” said Kris, giggling though she attempted not to.

  Jam looked toward the Gulf. “As long as it’s not west. Though maybe that would be as good as any.” His voice didn’t exactly die, in approved dramatic fashion, but it did fade a bit toward the end. He stood staring into the darkness for a moment. “South,” he decided and started in the direction of the pier.

  Kris held up a hand to stop the rest of them, grinned and pointed north. It took a few seconds before Jam turned around and saw them all headed the other way. “You guys are mean,” he announced, after running to catch up. “I can get that sort of thing from my sisters!”

  “Are they staying long?” An asked.

  “Lin’s hanging for a month, unless she gets bored and runs off to Miami. It’s her vacation time but she says she’s going to write while she’s here.” He gave the slightest of shrugs. “We’ll see.”

  He didn’t offer anything about his younger sister, nor about himself. Kris felt maybe it would be better not to pry. Some other time, maybe.

  “Will you all be around on the Fourth?” Jam asked. “You should come to the house to watch the fireworks. Best seat on the beach.”

  The girls had already made some nebulous pns about meeting at third. This sounded better. “All of us?” Joey asked.

  “Sure. And if you have new boyfriends and girlfriends by then, bring them too.”

  “We’ll bring one for you too,” stated Joey. “Who could we set Jam up with?”

  “You’re here on your own tonight,” Ronnie pointed out.

  “Yes,” said Kris. “We hereby appoint you Jam’s official Fourth of July date.”

  Joey did not seem overly pleased how her statement had backfired on her, making a wry face. But she did chuckle then.

  “What street is this?” asked Jam, after they had walked some distance, speaking little, only taking in the night, the dark Gulf, the stars thick above.

  “Avenue,” corrected Kris. “It’s Fifth. Take a right for stylish shopping in the heart of Naples.”

  “Some other time. Let’s turn back. I could have another burger or two if there’s any left. Or even a beer.”

  “But none for Joey.”

  “I’ll keep an eye on her,” he promised, “now she’s my official date.” Joey snorted in an undylike way.

  It was, in fact, Joey and Jam who had done most of the talking as they had strolled along through the night and continued to as they headed back south. Reminiscing about things they’d done as kids. Kris was willing to just listen but soon found herself and Will falling a little behind and falling into their own private conversation.

  After a while, her hand found his. “We haven’t had much time to ourselves,” she whispered.

  “There will be other chances. If you want.”

  She thought she did want. Oh, dozens of other confusing thoughts came tumbling into her head on the heels of that one. Seeing more of Will? Dating him?

  Why not? He was worth twice any other guy she’d ever gone out with. Three times maybe. Four would be pushing it. A thought of Mackie slipped in. Okay, he was a good guy too but—somehow, they’d just never seemed right. Kris did not think he would mind her dating his friend. But she should talk to him when she saw him again.

  “I like your friend, Jam,” he went on. “Or James, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah. Um, speaking of friends, I didn’t know you and An were buds. Fellow surfers?”

  Will broke up on that one. It took him a little while before he could answer. “You figured it out! Nah, though he has offered to take me out sometime. And I’ve offered to get him lifting weights. The boy’s awful skinny.” He gnced toward An’s back. Ronnie and he were walking side by side, close but not touching, not particurly seeming like a man and woman who were together. They seemed more interested in Joey and Jam’s banter. “We like the same kind of books.”

  That was enough to know for now, Kris decided. She should read more herself. Like her friends.

  “It looks like the party is winding down,” said Joey, when they reached the Summerlin house. “Or has wound down.” Half the lights had already been turned off and Preston Summerlin had deserted his station at the grill.

  “We’d better just get out of here,” Kris said to Jam. “Tell your folks we enjoyed it. And thanks for the invite.” Her friends murmured simir sentiments.

  “Let’s go down the beach to our cars,” said An.

  That made sense. There was no point in going back up to the street here. “I’ll walk with you,” said Jam. He seemed in no hurry to be with his family. No one spoke until the pier loomed above, all too tired, too full of the night. They filed up the weathered wooden stairs from the sand, to the equally weathered decking.

  “I think I’ll leave you here and walk out to the end,” said Jam, not very loudly, as they stood there. He turned and went, becoming a part of the dark.

  The others went the opposite direction. A couple minutes ter they were at their vehicles and An was unlocking his. The triumvirate stood together for a moment, watching, not quite ready to say good night to each other.

  “I wanted to pump Jam about Lin’s writing,” confessed Joey. “Maybe I’ll get another opportunity.” She snickered. “As long as I’m dating him and all.” She fell into the back seat of An’s Rambler. “I’m ready,” she announced. “Launch the Wesolowskimobile!”

  Ronnie slid into the front and the big wagon pulled away. Kris watched it disappear around the corner. Then, there where the spreading banyan cast a darker shadow on the shadows of night, her lips met Will’s for the first time.