“You know what I think?” I said.
She looked at me.
“I think the anger came from the right place,” I said. “The execution needed work. You’re going to make mistakes your whole life, Lana. Some of them are going to be worse than a keyed car. The next time you feel that kind of rage, come to me. Let me help you. We can find a better way to handle things. Ways that don’t include felonies.”
Lana sighed. “I’m so embarrassed.”
“I know. Lana, I’ve already told him it was you.”
“You said you wouldn’t tell him,” she murmured.
“I know, but I love him and I don’t want to keep secrets from him. That’s not healthy for my relationship with him. You stillhave the chance to do the right thing. I can’t lie to him for you or anybody.”
“I get it,” she said. “Wait, you love him?”
I laughed. “I do.”
“I’m happy for you.”
“Thank you. It’s good. I’m happy.”
We walked along the beach. The celebration behind us had settled into something more relaxed, small clusters of people still lingering, kids running the stretch of newly reclaimed beach like they were testing it, making sure it was real.
Lana walked beside me with her hands tucked into the front pocket of her hoodie, her hair still wild.
“My mom fell in love with my dad on this beach,” I said. “Right around this stretch, actually.” I looked down at my feet moving through the wet sand.
Lana smiled. “My parents fell in love here too.”
I looked at her and smiled. The beach was romantic and had fostered many relationships. Mine included. It was the place to fall in love.
“It’s a beautiful place,” I said. “I understand why you were so desperate to save it. I think you might have sparked the movement. You gave others courage to fight.”
Lana exhaled slowly. “I’ll talk to him, Summer. I’m not putting it off because I’m scared, even though Iamscared. I just want to find the right moment. I don’t want to do it in a parking lot or send a text.” She glanced at me. “It needs to be face to face.”
“It does,” I agreed. “Lana, he’s not going to destroy you. I told you that already.”
“I know.” She kicked at a small wave that crept up toward our feet. “That almost makes it worse, in a way. If he was terrible about it I could at least be mad at him. But he’s not terrible. He’s actually very nice.”
“Yes, he is.”
She pressed her lips together. “He’s a decent man. And I treated him like he wasn’t.”
We walked a little further before I turned us back toward the main stretch. The sun was hot, burning off the last of the morning haze and bringing out all the beachgoers that were taking advantage of the day.
We parted ways near the access path. Lana went south and I went north, my board tucked under my arm. I rinsed the board at the outdoor shower at the back of the house and propped it against the wall. Through the screen of the fence I could see movement at Colt’s place.
I crossed the yard like I tended to do so often now. I knocked on the frame of the back door and waited. Footsteps, and then Cody appeared in the doorway. Damn, the Anderson men certainly came from a very nice gene pool.
He looked at me. Then he grinned. It was the same grin Colt used when he thought he was being charming. It was an Anderson family trait and probably responsible for a great deal of trouble over the years. And a lot of broken hearts.
“Summer Banks,” he said, pushing the door open. “Come in. He’s on the phone but come in anyway.”
“I can come back later,” I said.
“Come in,” he said. “We’re practically family.”
“Thank you.”