She hadn’t even thought of saying anything to Daryl about this party. Ronnie hadn’t thought of him at all until her mother seemed surprised by An showing up at the Deerfields’ door. Daryl wouldn’t have wanted to come to this party anyway, she told herself. Maybe it was true.

  But then, he hadn’t called her since they went out st week, had he? Daryl Sterne was the past now. She had expected that to happen, but not now, not so abruptly. Not that she expected to start dating An Wesolowski. Ronnie barely knew him. He might have no interest.

  They progressed up the sidewalk along Gulf Shore as a group rather than in pairs. Maybe there was a subconscious desire not to seem like couples. Or unconscious? Ronnie was not sure of the difference. Definitely self-conscious.

  Of course, An wasn’t her date. Not really. Or was he? Neither one had actually asked the other out. Well, maybe she sort of had. And what of William and Kris? No, they were all just friends going to a party together. Joey was evidence of that. Ronnie was gd—relieved, might be the better word—she hadn’t come attached to someone. A pang of guilt told her she shouldn’t judge the redneck boys Joey sometimes dated. She shouldn’t call them rednecks either. She only did that in her head, to be sure. Ronnie would never say something like that aloud.

  Unlike William, An had not dressed up at all. He wore a white surfer tee with jeans. Gordon and Smith it said on the tee-shirt, the same as the board they had bought from his brother. Ronnie wondered what sort of surfboard An had. Hadn’t Russ said something about him making his own?

  There were lights. Lights around the old stuccoed house, lights strung between the palm trees. “Ouch! Damn” Joey swatted at her arm. “A big ol’ gallinipper.”

  “At least the sand flies aren’t out,” offered An.

  “Just wait,” came Doughnut’s response.

  “I’d rather not,” said Joey. “I hope the Summerlins will be handing out repellent as party favors.”

  There was a crowd, mostly adults, in the yard. Yes, thought Ronnie, we’re adults too. She needed to remember that! A few younger kids darted in and out. She could see more party-goers on the back porch. There was music pying there, swing music, but no one danced. Most of those outside were congregated toward the rear of the wn, closer to the beach, or where Preston Summerlin manned a massive brick grill. Ronnie understood the man had built it himself after marrying Maria and moving in.

  “Is Linda here?” she whispered to Kris. She was uncertain she would recognize the young woman.

  “I don’t see her. She should stand out. She’s even taller than Joey. There’s Jelly. Angelica.”

  “And her brother,” added Joey, ignoring the mention of her height. “I half-expected him to be on the beach smoking weed again.”

  “Give him time. The night is young.”

  Angelica was the one to come over and greet them. The girl wore a white blouse and striped bell bottom trousers, riding low on her hips. Those had only begun to show up on anyone’s fashion radar here in Naples. A headband restrained long waves of dark hair. “Kris! I am so gd you could come. Your parents are here somewhere.” Her eyes swept over the rest of the little group. “And Joanna.”

  “Hi, Jel,” mumbled Joey.

  “You’ll remember Ronnie,” spoke Kris. From the look Angelica gave her, Ronnie doubted it. “And this is Will. And An.”

  “Pleased to meet you,” said William. An only nodded. But both boys had eyes for Angelica Summerlin, try though they might not to show it. Ronnie knew. Her friends knew.

  And Jelly certainly knew. She would believe she outcssed the trio they had arrived with and she was probably right. Ronnie knew it didn’t matter any but she began to understand Joey’s feelings about her sometime friend.

  “Did they finally let you graduate from somewhere?” Kris asked. She was one person Angelica was unlikely to overawe. “Or just kick you out again?”

  “Oh, they got tired of doing that.” She said this with such a straight face Ronnie wasn’t sure whether or not she was joking. “I have an actual diploma. Signed and everything!”

  “Forged, undoubtedly. Where are the drinks?”

  “Oh, around. Seek and you shall find. Daddy has a whole tub full of three-two beer on ice somewhere here, just for us young ’ns.” That had recently become legal for eighteen-year-olds in Florida and most considered it a joke. But it was like Mister Summerlin to think of providing it.

  “So where did you get this purported diploma?” Kris was asking as they made their way across the grass. “That pce in Massachusetts?”

  “No, no. That’s ancient history. I finished up in a school in Switzernd. I had to brush up on my French pretty quickly.”

  Kris only snorted at that. Jelly giggled.

  “Do you think she really speaks French?” Ronnie whispered to Joey.

  “Spanish, too. Her mother’s people are a sophisticated bunch. Her dad cims to be a simple small town wyer.”

  She knew there was some truth in that. Preston Summerlin came of an old local family, had grown up in Naples, where his father had practiced w before him. Maybe he still did. Ronnie had met the elder Summerlin once, as a little girl, when her father had some business with him. All she remembered, really, was his pronounced southern accent, spoken with a deep musical voice. His son had something of that voice himself. Conrad Summerlin was unlikely to be here tonight but she thought she could recognize him if he was.

  Ronnie came out of her reverie to see that she had separated from her friends. No matter. They were only a few steps ahead of her but there was no reason to hang with them all evening. And she wasn’t An’s date, she told herself again.

  Then she told herself she was being too insistent about that and smiled at the thought. Let things go as they will tonight and don’t dwell on them. Let things go as they will the rest of this summer.

  “I brought you something to do drink,” came An’s voice, He was at her elbow, holding a couple cups of punch. Probably punch. It was red so it seemed likely. “I didn’t know if you cared for beer.”

  She felt slightly bothered that he would be paying her attention. She almost told herself again he wasn’t her date, but took the cup with a ‘thank you.’

  “There are hot dogs and burgers and stuff if you’re hungry,” he said.

  “Okay. We should say hi to James.” They were only a few yards from where he stood, apparently by himself, gazing toward the gulf. “Do you know him?”

  “Hun-uh. He’s the brother of the girl we just met, right?”

  “Right.” Ronnie realized that might not be the best recommendation. The Summerlin boy turned to them as they approached. He might have already noticed them earlier and expected it. He wore an Hawaiian shirt, blue and white coconut palms on crimson. The buttons could be real coconut shell. It would be hard to be sure anytime and impossible in this light.

  A loud voice broke in before they could say anything to each other. “My god, Jammer, pull that aloha shirt outa your pants. Only fags tuck them in.” It was Gordon Rhein, one of the local surfers. Grubby, as his friends called him.

  The boy at his side, a couple years younger maybe, added, “And old farts like my dad.”

  Grubby snickered. “Yeah, we’ve gotta give the parents some leeway.”

  Jam looked like he was uncertain whether to believe them. He might suspect they were pulling his leg. An spoke up. “It’s true. No self-respecting Hawaiian would wear it like that.”

  “Oh, it’s a matter of tradition, then,” said Jam, pulling the shirt from his white shorts. “We can’t go around breaking tradition.”

  Sarcasm? Maybe. Amusement, certainly. “James, this is An. An, James.”

  “Call me Jam. It’s my special Naples name.”

  Grubby and his friend had moved off. Ronnie was gd of that. She’d never cared for him, even though he had dated Kris for a time. Maybe because he had dated Kris for a time. He seemed too full of himself. Too likely to put his hands on someone without asking, too. Not aggressively—just like it was no big deal. Kris had told her he had pns to be a photographer. Maybe the idea of him being a fellow artist had appealed to her.

  She wondered what sort of pns An had for a career. They might be as nebulous as her own.

  “Where did Kris and Joey go?” asked Jam.

  “I think they followed your sister somewhere.”

  “Never a wise idea. It happens a lot anyway.” He gnced at An. “But usually with guys. It was a good idea to get your date out of her clutches.”

  Okay, she might just as well accept that An Wesolowski was her date tonight. He probably thought he was.

  “Oh, here comes my other sister. She’s not much safer.” Linda was very tall. All the Summerlins were though, strictly, she was a Sas, not a Summerlin. Hadn’t she gone back to using her birth name in New York? “Hey, Lin, this is Ronnie. She’s a friend of Kris Greene. And An. He’s some surfer she’s letting follow her around.”

  “I saw Kris. She’s grown a lot since I saw her st—but not taller!” She only smiled slightly at her quip before going on. “Wasn’t that your old friend from school with her? Joanna?”

  “I’m surprised you remember her.”

  “She stands out. She could be a model. Maybe I’ll tell her so if I run into her again.”

  Jam turned to them. “Lin was a model, you know. We were very, very proud of her.”

  She gave Jam an amused look. “By now, I am sure you know my little brother is an idiot. It is a burden we must bear.”

  “The reason she ran off to New York,” broke in Jam. “Couldn’t take the shame any more.”

  “Ah, you figured it out at st! But, yes, I modeled. Not seriously. It proved an entree to the publishing world.”

  Ronnie was very much aware Linda Sas was on the staff of a glossy magazine. And she had known she modeled for a while. Lin was not what most would call a beautiful woman. Striking, maybe, slender and with a definite fashion taste. Tonight she wore white scks that accentuated her long legs, and a deep blue sleeveless top exposing tanned arms. Lin was naturally dark even without exposure to the Florida sun. “Joey might be more interested in your current job. She wants to write.”

  Lin only nodded. She probably heard a lot of that sort of thing. Ronnie wasn’t sure what to say to someone like this sophisticated older woman. She knew she wasn’t the best at that sort of thing, at picking up social cues. She gave An a sidelong gnce. He was even worse, wasn’t he? A fine pair they made.

  “It was nice to meet you. Enjoy yourselves,” said Linda and went off to talk with grownups. That’s how it felt to Ronnie, anyway.

  “Let’s go down on the beach,” suggested Jam. It seemed as good a thing to do as any. Ronnie was already tired of all these people.