The Summer's Child Page 5

  “I think we’ve both been friends with Charlie too long,” Samantha joked, though her voice was strained.

  “We should try and channel Giselle for the moment,” Roelle decided, scanning the crowd again.

  “Be good and kind?” Samantha asked, handing Roelle a plate. Roelle looked down and realized Samantha had picked all her favorite things from the buffet table.

  “Yes,” Roelle replied, touched at this gesture. Samantha smirked, and finished piling four goat cheese balls on her plate.

  “I don’t know if we can do that,” she admitted. “We are, after all, only human.”

  For the rest of the evening, they found only two nice couples. It turned out they weren’t the only queer people; there was a nice young man and his husband. Mike and Mark, although unfortunately named, were very kind. Mark was interested in movies in general, though he had to confess he had no idea about the intricacies of it. “I like the funny ones though?” he offered with a shrug. “Though the serious ones suck.” Samantha laughed.

  “Rude,” she replied, teasing Mark.

  “I can’t do movie talk,” Mike told Roelle with an indulgent smile.

  “I can’t keep up with Samantha either - I just act. She thinks about cinema and artistry all the time.”

  “Isn’t that what makes a truly world class actress?” Roelle shrugged with a small smile.

  “It’s what makes her a world-class actress,” she agreed lightly. Then she changed the subject. “Do you come to France often?”

  Mike started a long description of his last trip to Europe at the age of 18, when he “only mad bad decisions” and spent the entire four weeks “way too drunk.” Roelle enjoyed his small anecdotes, but he was a high maintenance conversation partner, demanding constant affirmations in the form of small nods and loud agreements (“I bet!” “wow!” “yes!”), and so Roelle was relieved when Samantha snaked her arm around Roelle’s waist and interrupted Mike’s story about an escalator in Prague.

  “SweaterGate just came in,” Samantha murmured into Roelle’s shoulder. “Should we bolt?”

  “We should,” Roelle confirmed. It was only 7.30 p.m, but jetlag was making her eyes feel heavy, and she couldn’t wait to leave. They excused themselves politely from Mark and Mike, and made their way towards the door.

  “Are you about to leave?” The elderly couple that Roelle had pointed out to Samantha earlier were standing near the door, and caught them with a warm smile. “The introductions have only just started.” Samantha gave them her best apologetic smile.

  “I’m so sorry,” she admitted, with honesty, “but we only arrived this morning, and we’re really jet lagged.”

  “Of course,” the wife replied, smiling and reaching out to shake Samantha’s hand. “We totally understand.”

  “It was so nice to meet you anyway -”

  “Samantha,” Samantha supplied. “Samantha Lee.”

  “Oh, you’re our winners!” The husband smiled at them affectionately. He was short, and reminded Samantha of her grandfather, with his German accent and all. “Who is your wonderful guest?”

  “This is my girlfriend, Roelle,” Samantha said, sliding her arm around Roelle’s waist and leaning into her shoulder. The couple exchanged a look of amazement as they heard Roelle’s name.

  “Wait, are you an actress?” The husband asked, suddenly genuinely excited. Samantha glanced between Samantha and the organizer before she nodded.

  “Yes?” She offered, unsure.

  “Were you in ‘Love Like That’? The film won an Oscar right?”

  “Yes!” Roelle glanced at Samantha, who was gaping at the elderly couple.

  “Our granddaughter, Josepha, is a big fan of yours! She watched all the your films, but we had to get all the movie channels to make her happy for you!” The husband admitted, chuckling. Roelle blinked in amazement.

  “For me?” She asked, baffled.

  “Yes, you,” the wife said quickly, with a wry smile. “She loved you a lot. She called you the American Beauty.”

  “Wow!”

  “She’s in acting school now. She got her first real role last week,” the husband explained, his chest puffing out in pride.

  “Really?” Roelle asked, amazed.

  “Yes!” The wife smiled indulgently. “She claims she will act with you one day.”

  “I look forward to meeting her!”

  “I acted in ‘Love Like That’ too,” Samantha piped up. The husband and wife looked at Samantha, non-plussed.

  “You’re an actress too?” The husband asked, amazed.

  “We both acted in a lot of the same films, actually,” Roelle explained quickly.

  “Oh,” the wife said, polite smile at the ready. “Well, I mean, Josepha might remember you, right Franz? Roelle just had...charisma? Josepha just loved to watch her so much.”

  “Yes, that’s it.” Franz agreed.

  “Well, let’s not keep you any longer! I’m sure you want to go to bed!”

  “Thank you!”

  “Good night!”

  “I can’t believe we travel to France and you get recognized. Next package holiday we take we’re going to Sweden and I’m going to find the French fans there.” Roelle smirked at Samantha as they walked towards the elevator, Samantha pouting in annoyance. She tried to brush it off, but the words “next time” make her feel too light.

  Samantha lay in bed, tossing and turning. There was something about the heat that Roelle exude, combined with her calm and steady breathing, that made Samantha unable to sleep. Though her whole body hurt with the exhaustion of more than twenty four hours with no bed to sleep in, her mind was running too quickly.

  Roelle had kissed her. It had been such a strange moment, such an electric moment, when suddenly all she could think about was the warmth of Roelle’s breath and the heat of her skin. She had tasted like champagne and Samantha could never have enough of her.

  What did this mean? Samantha was attracted to Roelle, right? She would never do something as phenomenally dumb as be into someone she worked with, right?

  She tried to think of what Giselle would say. Well actually, Giselle really liked Roelle. Giselle might have some good advice now, Samantha realized. She found herself strangely aching for her best friend, so she picked up her phone. 1 a.m. European time was only 7 p.m. at home - the odds were that Giselle would be awake. Samantha shot her a message.

  Samantha: Are you around?

  Holiday Family Computer: Just put the baby to bed.

  Samantha: Wanna Skype for 15 mins?

  Holiday Family Computer: Only 15 mins. I’m exhausted.

  Samantha: Thank.

  Samantha walked out on the balcony of their hotel room. Her view of the beach truly was magical; out on the ocean she could see several cruise liners moored on the coast

  Giselle called Samantha four minutes later, and Samantha smiled happily. She preferred it when Giselle called her from the tablet, because it meant she had a camera. She held up her phone so Giselle would be able to see her face too and smiled at the camera. The pixels focused, and Samantha saw Giselle, hair braided neatly, smiling at her.

  “Hey Sammy,” she said gently. She frowned as Samantha’s camera image came in focus for her. “Where are you?”

  “Biarritz.”

  “France? Wow. How’d you swing that?”

  “I entered myself and Charlie in a couples-only vacation package.” Giselle frowned.

  “What?” She asked, amazed. Samantha made a face.

  “I’m not here with Charlie,” she admitted. “She refused to go.”

  “You didn’t think to invite me?”

  “Well, you didn’t think to name your daughter Samantha…”

  “Oh my god.” Giselle buried her face in her hands, and Samantha laughed again.

  “I’m teasing,” she promised. “I needed to bring someone who I could legitimately pretend was my girlfriend.” Giselle gasped, grinning.

  “Oh no,” she whispered. “You�
��re there with Roelle?”

  “How did you know?” Samantha asked, amazing.

  “I know things,” Giselle hummed, lips thinning. “How is it?”

  “Weird? Difficult? I’m really tired and I can’t sleep right now.” Giselle frowned.

  “Why can’t you sleep?” She asked sympathetically.

  “I don’t know.” Samantha sighed, and looked out at the ocean, letting the silence drag out for a minute before she glanced back at her phone. “What if I like Roelle, Giselle?” She asked quietly.

  “Then I win a hundred dollars,” Giselle replied matter of factly. “What?” Samantha gaped.

  “I’ve got a long standing bet against Daria that you and Roelle end up together.”

  “Why?” Samantha demanded. Giselle snorted,

  “Have you seen the way you look at her?!” She asked, raising an eyebrow,

  “Obviously not,” Samantha grumbled.

  “You look at her like she’s the best goddamn person in the galaxy.”

  “What if she is?”Samantha asked. “She’s fucking insane.”

  “I know.” Samantha narrowed her eyes at Giselle.

  “Why are you smirking?” She demanded.

  “I’m really excited about this week.”

  “This is making me anxious, Giselle.”

  “I’m not trying to make you anxious Burrito! I am just happy you have to confront An Emotion in your life.”

  “An Emotion?” Samantha scoffed. “I confront emotions all the time.” Giselle scoffed.

  “You’re Mrs. Shrug It Off,” she corrected Samantha. Samantha made a face.

  “I don’t do it on purpose,” she grumbled.

  “I know! And it’s okay! I love you anyway.”

  “I love you too,” Samantha replied sullenly.

  “But your fifteen minutes up. My daughter, even though she doesn’t have your name, does share your constant and unstoppable hunger.”

  “Oh no.”

  “No, it’s a good thing. She’s growing incredibly fast though.”

  “Pic?”

  “Of course.” Giselle yawned loudly. “Now, get some sleep. I expect updates.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll send you all the snaps.”

  “Thanks.” After Samantha hung up, she stayed on the balcony for another hour, listening to the lapping of the waves against the beach, and trying to untangle the knot of emotion in her chest. Finally, she was too tired, and want inside.

  Perhaps a single emotion was too much. She should look if she could start with half an emotion first.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Roelle and Samantha were both woken by the gentle song of Roelle’s alarm clock. Samantha scrunched her eyes closed, trying to avoid the morning. Roelle turned over, and clicked on her light; the yellow filtered through Samantha’s eyelids, and she groaned. She had had barely two hours sleep, and the exhaustion was making her body feel awful and lethargic. Sometimes sleeplessness made her feel hyper and too full of false energy, but today it left her feeling like her ankle hurt more than it ever should and her eyes were burning.

  “We gotta get breakfast in forty five minutes,” Roelle murmured, leaning closer to Samantha so she didn’t have to speak loudly, “so that we can get on the snorkeling trip.”

  “Okay,” Samantha murmured, her voice muffled. “Wake me in fifty minutes.” Roelle smiled indulgently, and got out of bed.

  Roelle had a weird morning routine. Long winters in dark Sweden had taught Roelle that she naturally never wanted to get out of bed early, but years of determination meant that she did get out of bed early. It was easiest to face morning when she had a simple routine, and her sister had told her about a process called Sun Salutations years ago. “Basically, you can pretend you’re in Cali every morning,” her friend Kiara promised. Roelle had laughed, but the advice was good. Aprils in Chicago were often still frosty, and beginning every morning with a series of stretches and exercises during which she just had to imagine the warmth of the sun on her skin was invigorating.

  Roelle wasn’t about to change her routine just because Samantha was here, but she was incredibly grateful that Samantha seemed to be sleeping soundly. It embarrassed her a little sometimes to have people watch her while she meditated.

  She did her stretches, and her breathing, and smiled to herself as all the while Samantha’s light snoring cut through her concentration.

  Samantha snoozed while Roelle padded around the room quietly, showering, getting dressed, and making herself ready for the day. At ten minutes till their breakfast time, Roelle switched on the small water cooker in their room and brewed Samantha a cup of instant coffee. She never touched that stuff personally, more than happy to wait for the fresh coffee downstairs, but she was worried the only thing that would get Samantha out of bed was a cup of coffee.

  “You made me coffee?” Samantha croaked as Roelle gently shook her again. Roelle frowned.

  “Are you okay?” She asked, holding her hand against Samantha’s forehead. “Are you getting a cold? Should I make you lemon tea?” “No, it’s okay,” Samantha murmured, shrugging it off, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. “I’m just really tired.” Roelle’s forehead furrowed.

  “You didn’t sleep well?” She asked cautiously.

  “No. Jet lag, I think.” Roelle frowned.

  “I’m so sorry,” she murmured. “I know a lot of good tricks with that.” Samantha blinked at her, blearily.

  “Really?” She asked, quietly.

  “Yeah! It’s mainly about massaging your wrist.” Roelle held out her hand, and Samantha hesitantly put her wrist in it. Roelle’s hands were warm from holding the mug of coffee, and her fingers light massaged just above Samantha’s pulse points.

  Samantha looked up for a second as she shivered under Roelle's touch. This wasn't helping. She pulled out her wrist slowly. "You're right," she croaked. "That helped." Roelle smiled warmly and got up from the bed.

  Samantha realized Roelle looked really nice - she was wearing a smart blazer over a white blouse. For a second, Samantha stared, the slightest bit confused, and then she remembered the dumb dress code. She rolled her eyes at herself and glanced for her suitcase; the dress was right on top. She hoped the dress code didn't say anything about wearing the same dress multiple times.

  "I just need to brush my hair, and then we can go down to breakfast," Roelle said. "I'm done with the bathroom though." Samantha sipped at the cup of coffee and then nodded slowly. The coffee was still boiling hot, but she gulped it down anyway, hoping that it would make her feel less...ick. She was in fucking Southern France, on a free holiday - she couldn't get sick. She had managed a whole year without being sick, and she wasn't going to let her body betray her now. She climbed out of bed.

  The worst thing about having a cold, Samantha had learned years ago, was the ache in her body. As she stood up and stretched, she tried to push out the kinks in her body, and the light pain right above her kneecap. That pain was familiar - cramped for too longer in airplanes and in other confined spaces. It should go soon. Samantha gathered up her clothes and walked into the bathroom.

  She changed quickly, tugged at her hair thoughtfully, and then put a cap on. She walked out of the bathroom, and Roelle raised an eyebrow at her.

  "I don't think you're going to get away with a snapback, Samantha," Roelle pointed out lightly. Samantha sighed and pulled off the cap.

  "Fine," she muttered, rubbing her arms. "Do you have a sweater or something I could borrow?"

  "Are you cold?" Roelle asked, stepped forward in concern.

  "A bit," Samantha murmured with a shrug. "Not badly though."

  "Do you have a cold?" Roelle asked again, frowning as she handed Samantha a cardigan.

  "Only a small one," Samantha conceded as she shrugged into the cardigan. Roelle stepped forward and draped a shawl over Samantha’s shoulder too, frowning up at her.

  "Do you want to stay here?" She asked, lips pursed. Samantha shook her head and rubbed her eyes.
<
br />   "No, I'll be fine,” she promised. “I just need some breakfast."

  "Are you sure?"

  "Yeah."

  "Okay." Roelle brushed some dust off Samantha’s shoulders, and smile slightly. "I love this cardigan though, so don't spill anything on it."

  "Yes, Ma'am." Roelle slowly adjusted the cardigan, pulling it so it sat on Samantha's shoulder correctly. She slowly ran her arm down Samantha's arms and rubbed them thoughtfully.

  "Are you sure you're okay?" She asked gently. Samantha smiled.

  "I'm sure," she promised, pulling away again. "Let's go get some breakfast before the annoying Sweater Couple steals it away."

  "Don't you know it," Roelle agreed with a smirk.

  The breakfast room only had three or four other couples there, all of whom were excitedly talking about the snorkeling trip. Samantha noted with quick relief that the sweater couple was not among them as she served herself from the buffet, pilling her plate high with the fresh sausages and bacon and steaming scrambled eggs. The man in the queue behind her raised his eyebrows in surprise as she added some cereal, some yoghurt and two bread rolls to her plate. She just grinned at him, and walked back to where Roelle was already sitting.

  "Okay,” Roelle said, pulling out the brochure, “so they're taking us out to the snorkeling spot in a really cool sailing boat."

  "Ah yeah," Samantha said, already starting to feel better as she ate her food. "I love those."

  "And then the boat will idle at the edge of the reef while we snorkel. They provide everything for us. They also say that a full body wetsuit is optional, but I don't think we'll need it?" Samantha frowned and nodded.

  "The water's still pretty warm," she said thoughtfully.

  "That's what I thought,” Roelle hummed, flicking on her phone. “Anyway, there are meant to be light winds and a lot of sunshine today, so ideal conditions!" Samantha shoveled down her eggs with a small nod.

  "Awesome," she hummed, trying to concentrate on her body. She was started to feel better, but she still had the beginnings of a headache building behind her right eye. She rubbed her face and took another sip of coffee.