WHEN NIKKI ARRIVED HOME FROM New York the next afternoon, she found Summer entertaining. The house was full of young people lounging around in their shorts and swimsuits, acting as if they owned the place.
She stood in the hallway, perplexed. What the hell was she supposed to do now?
“Have you seen my daughter?” she asked a long-haired surfer type, who gazed at her blankly with glassy eyes and a dazed smile. “Summer,” she repeated, “my daughter.”
“Oh, yeah, Summer,” the guy said, scratching his chin. “She’s like, on the deck.”
Seething, Nikki made her way out to the deck, where she discovered a dozen other bikini-clad babes and longhaired dudes lolling around. She spotted Summer over in the corner, necking with a bare-chested boy who was wearing tight-fitting chinos that rode dangerously low on his skinny hips. Marching over, she snapped out a sharp, “Excuse me.”
The boy had his thumbs in the top of Summer’s bikini pants. He barely turned his head. “Get lost,” he mumbled.
“No,” Nikki responded. “You get lost. This is my house, and that’s my daughter you’re slobbering all over.”
Summer pushed him away and sat up. “Oh, hi, Mom,” she said, casual as can be. The boy took off.
“I don’t remember you asking if you could throw a party,” Nikki said, quietly furious.
“Well, you were away, an’ Richard said it was no biggie,” Summer said, Little Miss Innocent.
“You’re sure about that?”
“Yeah, I mentioned I was like, having a couple of friends over, and he said I should go for it.”
“Summer, there are at least fifty people trashing my house. That’s not exactly a couple of friends.”
“You know how it is, Mom. Word gets on the street, an’ it’s Sunday and people have nothing to do, so it kinda turned into a crowd. S’not my fault.”
“Whose fault is it? Mine?” Oh, God! Nikki thought. I’m beginning to sound like my own mother!
“Hey,” Summer’s pretty face clouded over. “Like what do you like, expect me to do—throw them out?”
“Yes,” Nikki said. “That’s exactly what I expect you to do. Get everyone out of my house. And do it now.”
“Gee, Mom,” Summer said, curling her lip in disgust. “You’re sounding so old.”
“Five minutes,” Nikki said through clenched teeth. “Do you hear me, Summer?” She turned and marched back into the house, going straight to her bedroom.
There was a naked couple making out on her bed. The girl couldn’t have been more than fifteen, the boy maybe a year or two older. “Are you aware you’re in a private home?” she said angrily. “And this is my bedroom.”
The girl grabbed her panties, the boy grabbed a joint, smoldering in an ashtray on the floor next to the bed. She couldn’t help noticing he was well hung and very muscular. They grew them big these days.
“Listen,” she said wearily. “I’ll look away while you get dressed, then kindly get the hell out of here.”
She turned around and listened to them scrambling for their clothes, which were littered all over the floor. A few moments later they ran past her and out of the room.
Locking the door, she picked up the phone and called Richard in the editing rooms. A woman answered.
“Who’s this?” Nikki asked.
“Kimberly. Who’s this?”
An assistant with attitude, just what she needed. “This is Mrs. Barry. Get me my husband.”
After a few moments, Richard came on the line. “Hi, sweetheart, you’re back,” he said.
“Yes, I’m back, and our house is full of sex-crazed teenagers,” she said sharply. “Did you tell Summer she could have a party?”
“Excuse me?” he said, sounding completely uninterested.
She knew why. He was sitting in front of the editing machines with his team of editors, completely absorbed. He couldn’t care less if Summer was entertaining the Dallas Cowboys.
“Summer said you told her it was okay if she had people to the house,” she said accusingly.
“You can’t begrudge her that on a Sunday afternoon. The kid had nothing to do, so I told her it was all right to have a few friends over.”
“The few friends turned into fifty people. When I went into our bedroom there were a couple of underage sex addicts making out on our bed!”
“Aw, Jesus!” he groaned.
“Weren’t you supposed to give her some kind of supervision while I was away? Obviously, she’s running wild.”
“Then obviously you shouldn’t have left her with me,” he said sourly, like she was the one in the wrong.
Nikki took a deep breath, striving to stay in control. “I don’t want to fight over this.”
“You’re the one making it into a fight.”
“I am not,” she said indignantly, furious he was taking Summer’s side.
“Look,” he said abruptly. “I’m working. I can’t handle this kind of aggravation.”
“Thanks a lot!” she said, slamming down the phone. She couldn’t believe that with all the good things about to happen in her future she had to deal with this shit. And Richard was no help, all he thought about was his precious movie.
She waited a good fifteen minutes before emerging from her bedroom. The house was clear.
“Summer,” she called out. No response. She hurried into the guest room—Summer’s temporary quarters. It looked like a disaster area. “Summer,” she yelled again.
Still no answer.
She went back into the living room and out onto the deck. Summer had taken her party down the beach. They were camped in front of somebody else’s house like a raggedy band of gypsies, a portable CD player blasting loud rap music.
She went back into the house. It was a shambles. They’d broken into the liquor cabinet, spilled drinks on the carpet; ashtrays were overflowing, boxes of half-eaten pizza everywhere. They’d even invaded Richard’s study, although they hadn’t touched his desk. Thank God for that. Or maybe it would have been a good thing if they had. Finally he’d wake up to what a devious little madam Summer really was.
“I’m not clearing up,” she muttered to herself, picking up the phone and trying to reach Sheldon in Chicago.
“Mister Weston, he away,” a maid’s heavily accented voice informed her.
“When is he coming back?”
“Don’ know. He in Bahamas.”
Trust Sheldon—he’d gotten rid of Summer and gone off on a fabulous vacation. Typical. The kid was with her and he didn’t give a damn. At least he could have warned her what a prize pain in the ass their daughter had turned into.
No. That wasn’t Sheldon’s style. He’d wanted her to find out for herself.
• •
“Rad party!” Tina remarked. “Shame your mom had to ruin it.”
“I know,” Summer agreed, swigging from a can of beer as they sprawled on the sand, watching the party disintegrate around them. “She’s a real downer.”
“Wouldn’t’ve thought it—her being so young and all.”
Summer picked up a handful of sand and let it trickle through her fingers. “She left me when I was a kid. Took off.”
“Who looked after you?”
“My dad. He’s a big-deal shrink.”
Tina nodded, like she understood. “I bet he spoils the shit outta you.”
No, that’s not what he does, Summer thought, wishing she had the courage to confide in Tina. He comes into my room late at night, slobbers all over me, then shoves his thing inside me. He’s been doing it since I was ten. Now that he’s married to Rachel it’s not so often, but he still does it when he thinks there’s nobody around to discover his dirty little secret.
“My dad’s in Chicago,” she said flatly. “I’m staying here with my mom and her new husband.”
“Oooh, stepfathers!” Tina said, with a fake shudder. “They creep me out! I’ve had three, and the pervs all came on to me. That’s why I split when I was sixteen. I so couldn’t take the hassle. I mean it’s embarrassing—some old dude with a hard-on chasing you around the room while your mom’s out cruising Saks.”
Summer wished she could put things into perspective the way Tina did. “Your mom ever find out?” she asked.
Tina shrugged. “Who knows? Who cares?” She jumped up. “I’m getting another beer. Want one?”
Summer shook her head as Tina took off. The party was still going on all around her, but she didn’t feel like joining in. The mere thought of her father was enough to bring back the old familiar sickness in the pit of her stomach that had been such a part of growing up.
The first time he came to her room was bad enough, but after that he’d visited her once a week, and there was absolutely nothing she could do. She was ten years old and petrified. Besides, he’d sworn her to silence, threatening all kinds of terrible things if she talked.
After a while she’d learned to tolerate his abuse. She was too ashamed to tell, because whoever she confided in would think she’d condoned it. So, as painful as it was, she’d kept the terrifying secret to herself.
Maybe if she told Tina it would make things better.
Maybe.
Maybe not.
• •
“Your wife sounds like a real bitch,” Kimberly whispered in Richard’s ear.
He glanced over at his two editors to see if they’d heard. They were too intent on the Avid machine to notice.
Kimberly’s hand rested on his crotch. “She obviously doesn’t understand you,” she whispered.
Wasn’t that supposed to be his line?
“Richard,” Jim, his chief editor, said, turning around. “Take a look at this and see if it’s what you meant.”
Richard moved away from Kimberly to view the sequence of film they’d put together at his request. “We need the close-up on Lara,” he said brusquely. “My mistake. Put it back in.”
Kimberly was right; ever since Nikki had gotten it into her head she could be a producer, she had turned into a bitch. Treating him like the goddamn baby-sitter. Phoning up and complaining when she knew he was working. Where the hell was she coming from?
Jim put the close-up of Lara back in. Richard viewed the film and was satisfied. It had been a long week, but they were getting there; the assembled footage looked great.
“Thanks, guys,” he said, standing up and stretching. “See you early Monday. Go home to your families; they’ve probably forgotten what you look like!”
Kimberly hung around, waiting until the two men left. Richard was busy entering notes into his laptop.
“Don’t you have a boyfriend?” he asked, when he finally realized she was still there.
“I do now,” she said in a sexy voice.
He was just about to say, “Oh no you don’t!” when she stepped out of her dress, and there were those chewable nipples staring him in the face, and he hadn’t eaten all day . . .
Sometimes temptation was just that.
• •
Summer wandered back into the house at sunset. “Sorry, Mom,” she mumbled, like it was no big deal. “The party kinda got outta hand.”
“Out of hand!” Nikki exclaimed, to her horror sounding more and more like her mother every minute. “They’ve trashed my house. Who’s cleaning it up?”
“The maid’ll do it,” Summer said, slouching into the kitchen and opening the fridge.
“The maid will not do it,” Nikki said, flushed with anger as she followed her daughter into the kitchen. “You, young lady, will take care of it yourself.”
Summer almost laughed in her face. “Not me,” she said. “S’not my mess.”
For a few seconds, Nikki was completely at a loss for words. This damn kid was pissing all over her, and she wasn’t going to take it anymore. “Summer,” she said, attempting not to lose it completely. “Get something straight. You might do what you want when you’re with your father, however, when you’re here, I call the shots, and if you don’t like it, you’ll be on the next plane back to Chicago. Get it?”
Summer got it. By the time Richard arrived home the house was clean, and Summer, clad in a long paisley dress, her white-blond hair pulled back in a ponytail, her face a mask of innocence, greeted him with a kiss and a hug.
“Thanks for looking after me while Mom was gone,” she said, her expression angelic. “You’re the best!”
Richard glanced at Nikki as if to say, What are you complaining about? This kid is perfect.
Nikki wanted to say, It’s an act, Richard, get with the program.
But she didn’t, and the three of them went out to dinner at Granita, and Summer behaved perfectly all evening.
During dinner, Nikki told Richard that Lara had agreed to be in Revenge. He didn’t say a word.
“Isn’t it great?” she pressed.
“No,” he responded, grim faced. “You’re in for nothing but trouble.”
She wasn’t about to get into it in front of Summer. In fact, she didn’t want to get into it at all. He had his opinion, she had hers.
Later, in bed, when she wanted to make love, he demurred. “I’m tired,” he said. “I’ve been working all day.”
“And I’ve been on a plane,” she said. “But I’m not too tired.”
“Tomorrow,” he said, turning his back and going to sleep.
She realized it was weeks since they’d made love and decided she’d better do something about it. Maybe a weekend in Carmel or San Francisco, somewhere romantic, where they could be alone with no outside disturbances.
In the morning when she awoke, Richard was gone and so was Summer. He’d left a note on the kitchen table.
Taken Summer to see how it’s done.
Will call you later.
She felt a small pang of jealousy. Why wasn’t he inviting her?
Don’t be ridiculous, she told herself. He’s being helpful. Taking Summer off my hands before she drives me totally nuts.
Besides, he knew she was meeting with one of her potential directors today. And the truth was that right now her movie was more important than anything.