All Chapters of Seasmoke Friends: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

VOLUME ONE: SUMMER'S ROADSummer QuinnThe last thing, the very last thing on earth I expected to see when I opened my front door was my estranged mother standing on my front porch, wringing her hands. It took me point five frazzled seconds to connect the woman I'd only met in photographs with the one before me. My fingers closed over the doorknob with a death grip. Dizziness swamped me, sending the room into a whirl. This couldn't be real. But, yet...I focused on keeping my limbs from leaping across the threshold and wrapping her in my arms. Stupid, stupid, Summer. You're not a kid anymore.Oh, and today of all days to show up? Not good. History proved I needed to immerse myself in my art or I'd lose it. There were several paintings that had to be finished for the charity auction. And it was four years ago today my dad had died. I needed to keep my mind focused on the first and off the latter. "Hello," Sharon said. "I'm-" "I know who you are," I breathed."Can we talk?" Th

Twenty-Two Years Ago-Age Six"Diana at school said s-so," I stammered through the sobs. "Sh-she said that it wasn't normal. That I was bad and that's why Mommy wasn't here."Here, at home in Daddy's arms in the living room, I was safe. He smelled like soap and wood where I pressed my face into his shirt. School wasn't like that. I hated it. I was never going back. Ever. It smelled like paste and pee and Mrs. Schmidt's perfume. The kids were mean. They laughed at me and called me stupid and told me I couldn't play because I didn't have a mommy."Shh. Come now," Daddy cooed in a soft murmur. "That Diana doesn't know what she's talking about."My chest hurt. My tummy wanted to throw up. "But Mommy isn't here," I insisted.Daddy started rocking, the motion matching his heartbeats. One. Two. Three. "Mommy isn't here, no. But do you know why?" He paused. "She had to go climb mountains so high that the white snow never melts. Where she can see the whole world from the very top." He sighe

SummerI growled deep in my throat and flopped back on my bed. I snuck a glance at my bookshelf, gaze landing Ian's photo. His sharp facial features and chiseled chin. His eyebrows were low, almost masking the deep brown color of his eyes. He always looked somewhat dangerous until he smiled. He was a good looking man. But he knew he was attractive, as did the entire female population of Wylie. Wasn't it against the laws of nature and rules of friendship to think of a best friend that way? Issue the I could eat you alive, but wouldn't dare look? We'd grown up next door to one another. It wasn't a brother-sister kind of relationship, but it wasn't the kind to get all hot and bothered between the sheets either. Sex between us would ruin everything. Sex killed friendships. So what was up with him lately? All the innuendos and wink-winks?When we were fifteen, and I was dating one of the high school football players, I'd run next door to tell Ian about Scott Michaels kissing me before the

Summer"Is everyone ready?" I asked. They all yelled yes excitedly. "Well, today we're going to paint our favorite thing to eat in summer." I clasped my hands in front of me. "It can be anything you want, but you have to use your color chart to mix mediums. No primaries today." All the kids eagerly started their pictures. I rarely did a strict curriculum with this class and I pretty much let them have free reign. Most of the families didn't have a place to engage in activities with these children and came from counties quite a distance away, so the parents usually stayed throughout the class. Rarely did I have a child absent, so when the kids were engaged with their painting, I quietly walked up to Samantha's mom, who lived in the same county, and asked about Jon Melbourne."Oh, didn't you hear?" She put her hand on her chest. "They found another lump in the follow-up x-ray and he's back at the hospital." My heart and hope dropped, just like that. Nausea swirled in my stomach. "I

IanHell. There were reasons I'd never done it, so why was I contemplating a confession?I took the elevator down to the lobby and went outside to get air. Slumping against a brick wall, I thought about how many times I'd come here with her and could not shake the sick feeling this place gave me. She had that same look in her eyes today as she had the moment her dad died. How she found the strength to come back here when one of these kids grew ill was beyond me. The woman had more strength than any ten people I knew. She was either a saint or an idiot. The jury was still out on that one.More than anything, it left me irate. How much was she supposed to take? Would she let herself endure? It was as if she was punishing herself for not doing more. She held a fund raiser every year, the proceeds going to research and her blessed art program. An event where she smiled, shook hands, and pretended it didn't kill her dead those kids were dying. She should be in some ridiculous daisy field