Someone Like Summer by M. E. Kerr Page A

anywhere.
    I’d gotten a good tan, mostly during lunch hours, when I’d walk down to Main Beach, swim, sun, and eat my lunch there.
    I’d chosen white short shorts, a yellow tank top, and my boxing sneakers. Yellow because he had told me once that it was my color. I had on big hoop earrings, and I let my long blond hair hang.
    Esteban came up and put his arms around me, smelling of something sweet.
    â€œAre you wearing cologne, E.E.?” No men in our family ever wore it.
    â€œI put on some the pastor had. Lavanda Puig eau de cologne. He said the women like it.”
    â€œIt’s sweet, like you, E.E.”
    He had to stand on tiptoe to kiss me. He whispered, “I missed you.”
    â€œI called you and got Gioconda.”
    â€œShe read the address here and said it was a trap.”
    â€œDoesn’t she know I would never hurt you, that I love you?”
    â€œWas she nasty, Anna?”
    â€œOf course not! Gioconda? She was her old, sweet self.”
    â€œYou make fun with me.”
    I could tell he was in a loving mood, and he was getting me in one too. We couldn’t keep our hands off each other.
    â€œHey,” I said. “Don’t you think we should go upstairs?”
    â€œAre you sure there are no policemen sent from Dr. Annan?” He laughed and I punched his arm. And we kissed. And we kissed.
    I said, “Are your toes tired?” The minute I said it, I was afraid he might be offended because I’d referred to his height, but he was soeasy, so ready to smile and laugh and hold me.
    He said, “ Sí . My dedos del pies need rest. You know what I love, Anna?”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œThat you make no fuss because I have no papers. I thought you would maybe tell me adiós when you found that out. It has happened to my homies more than once. Nobody likes you when you have no papers.”
    â€œCome on,” I said. “Follow me.”
    Â 
    We walked hand in hand to the back door of the garage. He was telling me it took him a long time to get a ride there. Dario had borrowed the Pontiac to pick up some of the homies still hiding in the woods.
    Esteban’s hands were as rough as his face, and his shoulders and arms were soft. Next time I would bring my Nivea cream and massage his fingers and palms.
    We climbed the outside stairs, my heart pounding, his too, I bet, and we were laughing a little at nothing, at being with each other.Besides the Lavanda Puig there was the aroma of dog from the kennels, one I liked, but I asked Esteban, “Does the dog perfume clash with your cologne?”
    He giggled and said, “ Un poco .”
    Then I said, “What’s wrong with this door?”
    â€œI’ll try it, Anna.”
    â€œYou won’t get in, I’m afraid.”
    I had locked us out. The keys were inside.
    â€œWhat have you done?” he said, and we began to laugh again, at my stupidity, at the two of us champing at the bit to be somewhere with our arms and legs around each other, standing instead on the stairs.
    â€œOf all times to be without my car,” Esteban said. “I cannot even take us somewhere away.”
    â€œLet’s go downstairs, sit on the bench out front, and think about this.”
    â€œMaybe we should hitch to Main Beach,” he said.
    I didn’t want to believe we were locked out, and I remembered Kenyon’s penchant for hiding keys to his room in college. He had one of thosetiny black magnet boxes, and he would attach it to the sides of stairs, to the overhead on his door, anywhere and everywhere. Maybe he did the same thing here. Even though he’d given me my own key, he might have kept a secret key for himself, in case he got locked out.
    The night sky was filled with stars and an enormous moon.
    â€œThe beach?” Esteban said. We were always there. It was okay because he brought along his boom box and we danced on the boardwalk. He was teaching me the neotango. But there