Her eyes narrowed, and I had the distinct impression that I’d somehow given away his secret.
“Sebastian!” Her clipped vowels carried across the yard, and several people turnedaroundto stare.
I followed her eyes and saw him again, leaning against the deck, by himself. He was taller than I’d realized now that I was standing, too: as tall as his father; taller than David. This time Sebastian was more formally dressed in khaki chinos, a white shirt, sleeves rolled up his strong forearms, and a loose, black tie around his neck. He still looked more casual than the majority of the men.
“Mother?” he said, his eyes wary.
“Caroline said you were at the beach today.”
He smiled suddenly and walked over to join us, his expression lighting as he saw me. “Hello, Mrs. Wilson. I said we’d meet again.”
“You were right. How was the surf?”
“Great, thanks! We…”
“Sebastian!” interrupted Estelle in a low, furious voice. “You were supposed to be studying for your advanced placement tests. You need to pass these if you’re going to be a semester ahead, for God’s sake. You’ve got your college credits to think about. Do you want your Associates degree early or not?”
He shrugged nonchalantly in that infuriating way that most teenagers learn simply to annoy their parents the most, but I could see that he was anxious, too.
“I studied this afternoon,” he replied softly. “There was a good swell this morning, Ches…”
“We’ll talk later,” she hissed. “Your father will want to hear about this.”
She marched away, leaving an embarrassed silence behind her. Donna steered David away and I was left with Sebastian.
“I’m so sorry about that: I wouldn’t have said anything if I’d realized I was going to make trouble for you.”
He shrugged again and smiled. “I’m always in trouble, so it doesn’t make any difference.”
“Oh, well then… Here’s to trouble!” I raised my glass in an ironic toast.
Sebastian grinned at me, his eyes crinkling happily. I realized they were blue-green, the color of the ocean. I’d forgotten. How apt.
“Have you been surfing long? You looked pretty good.”
“Did you see me?” he seemed delighted. “There were some really gnarly tubes.”
“I have no idea what that means! But I did watch for quite a while; you looked very graceful.”
He blushed suddenly and looked down.
“How’s school?” I asked, changing the subject.
“Oh, okay. I graduate a week from Thursday…”
That would make him 18, I guessed.
“And then off to college in the Fall?”
“Maybe. Dad wants me to enlist, but mom wants me to get my degree first.”
“What do you want?”
He looked surprised, as if no one had asked him that question. Then he smiled wickedly.
“I want to surf.”
“Of course. The perfect career path – a beach bum. Perhaps we should drink to the endless summer.”
He laughed, a carefree sound that had me grinning back at him.
“I could drink to one of your special limoncellos.”
I must have looked puzzled because he clarified his comment immediately.
“You used to make them for me – alcohol-free!”
“Oh, yes. When you were a kid.”
He frowned as if something about what I said didn’t please him, but he quickly threw off the thought.
“Do you go to the beach a lot?” he asked, his eyes surprisingly intense.
“I did a little in North Carolina, although I had a job, too. But we’ve only been back here a week; today was my first chance. I’ve still got a lot of unpacking to do.”
I shuddered at the thought of those one-and-a-half crates in the garage.
“I could help you. Unpack, I mean. Carrying stuff and all that.”
“Oh, well, thank you. But I expect I’ll manage; it’s not that much really.”
“I’d like to help; it’s great having you back.”