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Whenever I was with any of my school friends in a mall or just walking in the streets and I saw someone homeless pleading for small change, I felt the skin cringe at the back of my neck. My girlfriends could look right at these people as if they weren’t there, but I had to find something to give them. Only once or twice did someone else offer any change or dollars, and then only because I had done so. If anyone spoke about them, the others quickly shut her up with a look or a nudge and nod at me. Jessica said that when the girls spoke about me, most refused to believe I had really been that badly off. They were comforted by saying that it all had to be exaggerated.

How I wished it had been.

“Well,” Jessica said. “I thought I should tell you what I found out. I can’t imagine what it must have been like at Ryder’s home when this all happened, how his parents took the news. Probably they were both afraid for their careers and still worry about it.”

“Maybe they were afraid for their daughter, too,” I said.

“Maybe,” she said, but not with any enthusiasm. I thought that was cold, but later I would come to believe that she was probably right.

No matter what I did, I thought, I would never really fit into this world. The question was, would I get too deeply into it ever to get out?

I told her I would talk to her later and went to do my homework. Mrs. Caro did make a wonderful lasagna for me. Jordan enjoyed it as much as I did, and at dinner, she was more buoyant, concentrating on her gala and how big and elegant it was going to be. She was confident that they would get Tony Castle to entertain. He had been very popular at one time and in dozens of films and on Broadway.

“We need someone who can sing like Sinatra,” she said. “It fits with a black-tie affair.”

The way she said it reminded me of people who buy paintings not for their own beauty but for how they will fit in with their decor. The artist would certainly be unhappy to have been reduced to a decorator’s coordination idea. I remember it being the same when my mother sold her calligraphy on the beach. Many of the people who bought one had talked about how it would fit this wall or that room and not about how beautiful and unique a work it was in and of itself. But still, we were grateful for every sale. It meant we’d eat.

After dinner, I went up to finish my homework and start a paper I had to do for English, even though it wasn’t due for two weeks. It was on Hamlet, and rereading scenes to find the quotes I wanted reminded me of Ryder’s sharp answer in class and his sort of backhanded compliment of mine. Maybe he wanted to be friendly, I thought. Maybe he was simply afraid. Maybe how he acted was the only way he knew.

Unable to concentrate, I rose and went to my closet to pick out what I would wear tomorrow. Although I wouldn’t come right out and say it even to myself, I knew in my heart that I wanted to look special, more special than ever, if that was possible. I toyed with my hair and thought about my makeup. While I was at my vanity table, Jordan came to the door, tapped gently, and entered.

“Donald called,” she said. “He’s coming home tomorrow. He said he was able to get everything done faster than he had first thought.”

“Oh, great.”

“Yes,” she said. She looked so hopeful and pleased.

She really does love him, I thought. If only Kiera could speak to her the way a daughter should speak with her mother, she would get the best guidance regarding Richard. I would have had that sort of relationship with my mother, for sure. Also, I felt a little guilty knowing what was going on around that engagement ring with Jordan not knowing. It would be a shock to both her and her husband if Kiera showed up wearing the ring.

Were they destined to be forever disappointed with her?

If Jessica’s stories were true, were Ryder’s parents destined to be forever disappointed with their daughter, Summer?

I’m back to my mother’s belief, I thought, back to the question about our futures.

Did we have any control, after all?

I wondered what Ryder Garfield thought. Did he feel helpless trying to influence and control his sister? Did he hate having to do it or hate more that he would not succeed?

Jordan was great and wonderful to me. How could I ask for any more out of anyone right now?

But how I missed my mother. Even homeless, sitting lost and desperate together on a beach, she would hear more than my words, my questions. She would hear my heart, and she would know, the way anyone’s mother would know, what was best for me.

I had lost so much that night in the rain.

It was not possible for anyone to tell which drops on my cheek were tears and which were raindrops.

I couldn’t even tell myself.

Only a mother could do that, and not having her or anyone else who could do it left me so alone.

Jordan kissed me good night and went to sleep feeling hopeful.

I went to sleep listening for the voice I would never hear again.

But when I closed my eyes, I saw Ryder Garfield’s face when I had first approached him outside. He looked as if he was listening for the same voice, as desperately as I was.

When he realizes that, I thought, he won’t be afraid of me.