The romantic mood immediately shattered. Colin sat back on his haunches. Spencer turned toward the rudder, suppressing a groan.
They secured the boat to the slip and climbed onto the dock. Melissa and Merv were pulling in behind them, and Richard was busy helping them out of the water. Spencer faced Colin, wanting to pick up where they’d left off.
“So,” he started.
“So.” She bit her bottom lip.
A Mercedes convertible pulled into the parking lot and honked. Ramona was at the wheel. Colin glanced at Spencer, a quick look, then sighed. “I should probably get going,” he said reluctantly. “Will I see you later, at the luau?”
Spencer forced a smile onto her face. “Yep. See you there!”
She watched him walk down the dock and climb into the car. She might have been imagining it, but she was pretty sure he looked back at Spencer longingly. And from the thumbs-up Melissa was giving her, it seemed her sister had noticed it, too.
Chapter 7
Shopping, with a Splash of Awkwardness
Nana’s house was cool and smelled like fresh oranges when Spencer walked through the side door later that morning. “Oh,” she said, stopping short in the doorway. Her mother was sitting on a stool at the island, staring at something on TV. Spencer was about to slink out of the room when a headline on the screen caught her eye. Silver Panthers Terrorize Atlantic City. There was a shot of two large jungle cats prowling past the various glittering casinos.
“Is this a joke?” Spencer blurted.
Her mother shook her head. “Someone let performing panthers out of their cages in Atlantic City. Apparently one of them almost tore off a woman’s arm.”
She’d just said more words to Spencer than she had in days, so Spencer dared to sit down on the stool next to her and watch the remainder of the newscast. Animal control teams were working hard to round up the panthers, but the creatures were extremely stealthy.
When the news broke for commercials, Spencer felt her mother’s eyes on her. She slid off the stool, prepared to hustle up to her room so her mom didn’t have to endure her presence. Then her mother let out a regretful sigh. “I’m sorry about how I’ve behaved toward you in the past few days, Spencer.”
Spencer stopped in her tracks. “It’s okay,” she said quickly.
“Things have been . . . tense.” She touched her forehead. “Your dad and I had a big argument that hasn’t exactly gotten resolved. But I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”
“Seriously, it’s all right.” Spencer busied herself with a copy of the Miami Herald on the island, too flustered with this sudden change of heart to look her mom in the eye.
Her mother eased off the stool and turned off the television. “I’d like to make it up to you. There’s a new boutique called Astrid that just opened up in town. Want to go?”
“I’d love to go with you.” Spencer’s heart began to buoy. They hadn’t been shopping together in a long time. They hadn’t done anything together in a long time.
“Great. Be ready in ten minutes.” Her mother swung her purse over her shoulder and shot Spencer a smile. It might have been pinched and tense and still a bit frosty, but at least it wasn’t a grimace.
Astrid boutique was a mix of Miami chic and casual beach cool, featuring a lot of caftans, flowing dresses, white denim, and rubber flip-flops that cost over $100. A Rolling Stones song played over the stereo, and the salesgirls were busily folding merchandise when Spencer and her mom swept through the front door.
Spencer made a beeline to the denim table, and her mother followed her. After sifting through the piles of jeans, her mother cleared her throat. “So you and Melissa seem to be getting along.”
“I guess so,” Spencer said, surprised that her mother had noticed.
“How is she doing with all the Ian stuff?”
Spencer flinched. “Honestly, I don’t know. We haven’t really talked about it.” She and Melissa had continued to keep their conversations light—mostly they talked about Colin or made fun of the outfits his groupies wore.
“You did the right thing by turning Ian in, you know,” she said. “We have no idea what that boy’s capable of. And to think we’d invited him into our home with open arms.” She shook her head. “I’m considering pressing charges against him myself—for psychological damage. Your father thinks I’m crazy.”
“Is that what you’ve been fighting about?” Spencer asked.
A startled look came over her mother’s face. She traced the stitching on the back pocket of a pair of faded blue jeggings. “No,” she said quietly. “It was something else.”
Straightening up, she pulled a short romper off a nearby rack and held it up to Spencer’s frame. “This would look cute on you.”
Spencer eyed it suspiciously. “Won’t it make me look really young?”