When Dawn Breaks

By L. L. Bentsen

Teenagers Tucker and DeWitt lived hundreds of miles from each other. They enjoyed life as typical teenagers during WWII. Tucker cared about his world of surfing. DeWitt was in love with a girl he didnt know if he could ever have. After the bombing of Pearl Harbor, they were joined together, embarking on an unforgettable journey of adventure and excitement and a morning that would change their lives forever. A fictional story of love and courage, set around actual events of a past most of us dont know or have forgotten.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Dec 10, 2013
• ISBN: 9781491804629

L. L. Bentsen

L. L. Bentsen was born in Salt Lake City, Utah. She graduated with a degree in psychology from Westminster College. She also took numerous writing courses. She lived on the Island of Kauai for many years. She loves to scuba dive, explore the islands, sit in the sun, and float in the ocean. She splits her time between Utah and Kauai. She is married and has two children, three stepchildren, and six grandchildren.

Book preview

Prologue

1944

T he saltwater had saturated his Fanny Mae life vest. He had to think hard not to gulp it in as he bobbed along with the waves. He was on a life net, his legs and feet dangling between twelve-inch gaps that formed the net. The nets were a precaution, to be used for a short period of time if rescue was ever needed. Until rescue came. If it came.

The water was warm; the sun had been blazing. His lips were dry and cracked and swollen. He was so thirsty. Perhaps a little saltwater wouldn’t hurt him, he thought, although he knew it would. There was no drinking water. The fresh water had been contaminated when the containers were thrown overboard. The sea biscuits and malted milk tablets were long gone. The diesel oil had covered them all, perhaps helping their faces and arms from becoming swollen and blistered from the relentless sun.

The upbeat singing and the praying he and his friends had done ended yesterday. Or the day before. The sharks had quit circling for now, and even the fear of them returning had dissipated. The moaning from the wounded had ceased. He knew they had let go of the net and floated away, their burial at sea.

It had been a miracle that he and his best friend had found each other in the chaos. They had sat on the net, their backs to each other, arms locked together at the elbow, keeping each other safe. At first they talked of home. Of family, their loved ones.

As the hours bled one into the next, their heads drooped forward and then jerked upright, and they took turns sleeping sporadically.

Night had fallen. Again. The sea was calm, the tidal force slowly moving him along. There was no moon, and the stars were muted, barely twinkling in the ebony sky. He must have drifted off to sleep again. He awoke with a jerky movement, realizing something was wrong. Very wrong. His friend was gone.

Part 1

Chapter 1

California—1925

J ames Branson and his wife, Janey, were driving south from Elk Grove toward Laguna when her labor pains started. She was not due for weeks, so when James looked over at her as she gasped, she said, Keep driving. I’m fine. It was midnight, and the sky was shrouded with clouds covering the moon and stars. By the time they reached Santa Monica, the pain was so deep and sharp, she could not hold it in any longer and cried out, startling James. He pulled into the Santa Monica Hospital. She was quickly admitted and whisked away to the delivery room.

The waiting room was eerily empty as James sat on an orange pleather couch. He looked around for any reading materials, but the tables next to him were bare. He felt tired and leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He didn’t realize how long he had sat there until he heard the soft padding of shoes and looked up to see a young nurse. Excuse me, sir, she said softly. There are some complications, so this may take some time. I just wanted to let you know.

He whispered, Thank you, and watched her walk away. Complications, he thought. With Janey or the baby? He wondered why he didn’t ask.

He glanced at his watch and saw it was 5:00 a.m. The sun was rising. He walked to the window and watched the sun begin to burn off the morning fog. He wished he had a cup of coffee. He thought about their recent trip to Elk Grove. They had driven with Joel and Noel, their children, to drop them off at Janey’s parents place for a few weeks so that Janey could get some much needed rest. This pregnancy had been a surprise to them both. They thought their family had been the perfect size. Noel was eleven, and Joel was nine. It had worried them, starting a second round of diapers and feedings at this stage of their lives. Janey had just turned thirty-seven, and he was forty. They had recently relocated to Laguna, a small town with high cliffs dropping to sprawling beaches and the gray Pacific. Janey had loved the small town when they had driven through one summer. They bought a small parcel and built a small house overlooking the sea.

He laid his forehead on the window and closed his eyes. He felt exhausted from the emotion of leaving their children, the long drive, and now this. Complications, the nurse had whispered.

A second later, he felt the window he was leaning against begin to tremble and then vibrate. He stepped back, and as he did, the building began to shake violently. The window shattered. He fell back and covered his head. The building continued to rock for what seemed like an eternity. Glass broke around him, a chair fell over, and then everything was still.

He crouched for a moment and then got up and ran toward the delivery room, broken glass crunching under his feet. He met the breathless nurse in the hall as she ran toward him.

Oh my God, Mr. Branson, what happened to your face?

He put his hand up to his cheek and felt shards of glass embedded in it. His hand came away bloody.

My wife, my wife, he pleaded.

I am going to get the doctor—we need to see to your face, and as quickly as possible. She led him to a room and indicated he should sit on the medical table. I’ll be right back, she said as she gently pushed him to lie down.

But my wife? he said as she hurried out. A moment later, a second tremor began, and the lights flickered and then went out. Light from the window sent a ray through the room. He could see dust particles dancing up toward the ceiling.

The nurse returned with a doctor. Please be still, Mr. Branson. We need to get this glass out of your face, he said and began using tweezers on James’s face. James could hear the glass clinking as the doctor dropped the pieces into a metal tray the nurse was holding.

But what about my wife and my child? he asked.

The nurse paused and then sighed. Mr. Branson, your son was delivered at 6:43, just as the tremor stopped. He is fine for arriving a little early, a bit small but fine and breathing on his own.

James looked at the doctor expectantly.

I’m sorry. Your wife didn’t make it. There was too much bleeding. I am so very sorry.

James closed his eyes as the doctor continued to stitch his skin and for the first time felt the pain in his face.

There were two more aftershocks. The doctor and nurse held on to the table and then continued stitching him up. The largest pieces are out. There might be some scarring, and any smaller bits should work themselves out in a few weeks. I am so sorry about your wife.

James sat up. His head felt thick and heavy. The nurse placed her hand gently on his shoulder. Would you like to see your son? she asked. James looked at her, stood up, and walked out of the hospital.

He walked past crumpled buildings. The Red Cross had already set up tents at De La Gueria Plaza, but he didn’t notice them. Hundreds of people were out on the streets searching through the rubble. He continued to walk until someone tapped his shoulder.

Excuse me, sir, you can’t pass through here, a policeman said.

Why not? he asked.

The policeman looked at his bandaged face and the blank gaze in his eyes. Please sit here, sir. He helped James to the curb.

James sat on the curb, indifferent to what was going on around him. A Boy Scout came by and gave him a drink of water. Are you all right, sir? he asked.

What happened? What happened to my life? James asked the young boy.

There’s been a huge earthquake! The Sheffield Dam collapsed! All the telegraphs and phone wires are down. This could be very bad, sir. We’ve no idea how many other cities have been affected or destroyed. There are rumors of Ventura being on fire and San Francisco completely gone! Are you going to be okay? I have to get to the Red Cross tent.

He ran off, jumping over brick strewn about the street. James thought of his two children at Janey’s parents’ house. He knew they must be all right. He thought about Janey and her beautiful blonde hair that tickled his face when she leaned in to kiss him. He wept then, silent tears streaming down his face. No one bothered him; the chaos everywhere left no one to ask why a slightly gray haired man was sitting on the curb with his bandaged face in his hands.

As evening fell, James returned to the hospital, found his way to the nursery, and asked the nurse on duty when he could take his son home.

Chapter 2

California—January 1939

T ucker Janes Branson couldn’t wait for school to get out. Now, as the bell rang, he raced home, got his wood surfboard, and hurried down the cliffs to the waves below. He loved to be the first out. He loved to sit on his board and gaze at the endless ocean, its magnitude and strength making him feel more alive than when he had his feet on shore. He caught a few small waves, and as he rode one in, he could see his friends skillfully coming down the cliffs. They paddled out to him.

Hey, Tuck, said his best friend, Oscar. Did you see that baby doll on the beach when you came down?

No, Tucker said. He didn’t care about girls—well, maybe a little.

She was something like I’ve never seen, Graham said. She had on this white, ruffly bathing suit, with a big hat and a white parasol that she was twirling round and round as she walked along. I don’t know what she was looking for. She had her head down and didn’t even look at us when we catcalled her. Her skin was as white as her bathing suit!

Tucker squinted and saw a white speck far down the beach. Hmmm, Tucker said, I wouldn’t look at your mutt faces either if I were her!

Yeah, well just because you look like a lion with all that dirty blond, long hair, and all the dames look all googily at you, and you don’t even care! Graham said.

They spent the rest of the afternoon catching the small waves, laughing, and teasing.

Graham and Oscar headed home as the sun was beginning to set. Tucker rode his last wave in and lay on the sand to watch the setting sun. His thoughts turned to the mother he never knew. Today was his mother’s birthday. Every year, his pop would buy a cake or a pie and bring it home for their dinner. Happy birthday, Janey, he would say. Today you would be fifty-one. Then he would smile, the wistful look would leave, and they would laugh together as they ate. Still, it made Tucker a bit sad that his pop had never been interested in dating other women.

His pop had no problem with him being in the water as long as his grades were above average and his chores at home were done. When he was little, he would throw his stinky socks and dirty clothes far under his bed, too lazy to put them in the hamper. Saturday would arrive, and his pop would come in and search for them, saying, Where could Tucker’s clothes be? Are they in his clothes hamper? No! Then he would say, Are they in his closet? and reach down and pick up Tucker and swing him up on his shoulders. Are they on Tucker’s top shelf? he’d say, as Tucker giggled and reached for a piece of licorice or a cookie or a little toy that had magically appeared. His pop would drop him on his bed, and then they would gather his clothes. It was a ritual that Tucker realized he missed. His pop had taught him to sort his clothes and then wash, dry, fold them, and put them away. He was probably the only kid in Laguna with a clean room, and he realized he liked it that way.

As the sun set, he grabbed his surfboard and hurried home to see what dessert his pop had bought for them.

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That next weekend, some of his dad’s old friends from Georgia invited them to Victor Hugo’s, the new restaurant in town. As they drove along, Tucker asked, Isn’t Victor Hugo a famous author?

James looked at Tucker. Yes, he was. A novelist. He wrote Les Miserables, a wonderful book about the social injustice and misery in Paris. It took many years for that book to be published. I think you should read it. Your mother loved that book. The restaurant is French.

Oh. Makes sense, Tucker said as he thought about the burger and fries he had been craving.

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California

Waverly—January 1939

We spent the last week looking at houses all along the California coast. I don’t like it much, all the sunshine and sand. My parents finally bought a house in Laguna, but I don’t know when we’ll be moving, maybe in the summer. I took a long walk on the beach, and I guess it really is quite pretty. There was one lone surfer in the water. I will miss my friends and grits, as they are not sold in grocery stores here.

Mama and Papa and I met one of their old friends and his son at Victor Hugo’s, a very nice restaurant. Escargot was on the menu, and everyone seemed to be ordering it, so I don’t know if I was delighted or disappointed when the waiter came to our table and told us they had run out of it. Mama and Papa and Mr. Branson talked about the past and all kinds of stuff I’d never heard about, so I just picked at my food mostly. His son, Tucker, shook my hand and then let it go so quickly you’d think I had the scarlet fever or something. He asked if I had been sickly as I was so pale, and I said no, indeed I had not been sick at all. I wished it was me who got to let go of his handshake so quickly.

At dinner when all the adults were talking, he asked me what Georgia was like, and I told him to quit talking with his mouth full. All through dinner, he kept asking me questions. I don’t know why he annoyed me so, all that sun-streaked, curly, long hair and eyes like emeralds. His face is so tan; maybe that’s what makes his eyes so green. He had the gall to look down at my white-hosed legs and ankles peeking out from under my dress and asked if I had ever been in the sun. I was almost as shocked as when we were in Los Angeles and I saw all those tarts in two-piece bathing suits, running and splashing in the surf. I could tell the sun had touched their skin some. I said to him, No, in the South, the fairer the skin, the more becoming a lady is.

He looked at me and said in the most exaggerated Southern drawl, Why then, y’all must be the most beautiful Southern belle in all of Georgia. I looked at him and then yawned and looked away. Then he asked if I had ever been swimming in the ocean, and I said no, that I had no desire to do that.

As we left the restaurant and our parents were saying good-bye, I said to him before I even thought, Perhaps I’ll see y’all next summer when we arrive here from Georgia.

He sort of snickered and then said, Perhaps when y’all move here, I can get you to the beach so that lily white skin of yours will have a bit of color on it. He has no manners. That cad.

Chapter 3

Tucker—California 1939

I t is almost summer, and Pop reminded me that the Covingtons will be here soon. I had almost forgotten they were coming. I wish I had forgotten. When Oscar and Graham found out that their girl on the beach was Miss Waverly Covington, that I had gone to dinner with her, they would not stop asking me questions. I told them that I hadn’t paid much attention to her because I was listening to our parents talking.

What color were her eyes? Oscar asked.

Blue, a sort of blue topaz blue, I replied.

What does her hair look like beneath that hat and parasol?

Sort of a long, silky blonde, I said.

What about her mouth? I heard people from the South have big buck teeth.

I thought about the way her lips curved to a little point. Cupid’s bow, I think it’s called. And no buck teeth.

They elbowed each other. What about her breasts? Graham asked. They looked quite perky in that white bathing suit.

I groaned, looking at the two of them with their goofy grins. Aw, I don’t know, I replied. I guess they were all right. But they were more than all right. Guys, guys, you’ll get to meet her. She’s moving here this summer.

They both said at the same time, You’ll introduce us to her, right?

I thought about what I had said to her and how she had looked at me kind of puzzled. I don’t think she likes me. I grimaced. In fact, I think she hates me.

I am embarrassed at my behavior. I don’t know what came over me. I will sincerely apologize when I see her, if she will speak to me, which I’m guessing she won’t.

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California—Summer 1939

Summer came and went with no sign of Waverly. The summer people who paid to set up their tents along the beaches came. They came from all over, flocking to the warm weather and cool ocean. Hundreds and hundreds of tents lined the many beaches along the coast.

Tucker, Oscar, and Graham spent most of their days in the water or watching the girls that lay on the sand, enjoying the sun. Oscar or Graham would see a girl that was fair and would ask Tucker if it was Waverly. At first he was exasperated with them, but as they pointed out girls daily, he found himself looking expectantly to see if it was indeed Waverly. He was running out of patience with his friends and with himself, so one night he asked Pop about them. Oh, Tuck, I thought I told you. They’re living in San Diego for a year or so. Waverly’s mom, Emmie, has been a painter for years, and she wants to have a selection to put in the Laguna Art Gallery. So they’re staying with relatives there for a while. They want their children to like it here so they’re getting them use to the Wild West ways. He laughed.

How many children do they have? Tucker asked.

Um, let’s see. There’s Valentine, she must be nineteen or so. She’s married and lives in Georgia still. Then there’s Waverly; you met her. I think Easter is ten, and Buckley is seven or eight.

Tucker thought about this for a moment. Were Emmie’s kids born on Valentine’s and Easter? he asked.

Pop laughed. You would think so, huh? I don’t know the answer to that.

Where did you meet them? Tucker asked.

I met them from your mother. Emmie and Janey went to school together. Art school.

Do you know when they’re moving here?

James looked at his son, smiled, and said, I didn’t realize you had an interest in Waverly.

Tucker let out a big long sigh. I don’t, Pop. It’s Oscar and Graham. They’re griping every day to see her.

Uh-huh, Pop said. Well, I’ll let Graham and Oscar know as soon as I know.

Chapter 4

Tucker—October 1939

W hat a blast this last summer was. Oscar, Graham, and I hung out at the beach most every day. We met some babes. Evelyn, Rosilee, and Virginia. They’re from Sacramento and will be coming here every summer! We hung out with them most of the time and even got them out on surfboards, which was quite hilarious, but they were game. I hadn’t really thought girls could be so much fun. Best of all is that we have now finally smooched. Me with Virginia. Well, we call her Ginny. She has long, brownish red hair and a cute little stub nose. We were all disappointed when they left, but they’ll be back next summer.

It’s nice to have all the crowds gone now though. We mostly have the waves to ourselves, which is the way I like it. But now we’re back in school, which is boring to me. It doesn’t take too much to keep my grades above average. Pop thinks I’ll be able to get into a great college. I don’t know what I want to do yet, but Pop tells me not to worry about that. There is still plenty of time to decide.

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California

Waverly—May 1940

This past year has gone by so slow, yet when I look back on it, quickly also. It seems odd that time is like that. When we first got to San Diego, I missed home so much. All the girls here are so different from me. Mama said we would fit in soon enough, and Easter and Buckley seem to have adjusted quite well. They have made a lot of friends and go to the beach a lot and play in the ocean, but no matter how I have tried, the girls don’t seem to like me. I can hear them whispering in the halls about my looks and how all the boys think I’m a hot patootie. I don’t see that; none of them talk to me. Mama took us all shopping and got us clothes so we look like we belong. I look like a California girl now, but I sure don’t feel like one. We are moving to Laguna at the end of the month. Buckley and Easter are sad, but it will just be another place for me. Since I haven’t had much of a social life, Mama has taught me how to paint. I practice and paint quite a bit. I really enjoy it. Papa thinks her paintings will do well in Laguna. Maybe someday I will be good enough to sell some of my work. Now that would be something!

Chapter 5

California—July 1940

G inny, Rosilee, and Evelyn returned in July. Tucker and his friends had been waiting anxiously for their arrival, although they rarely mentioned it except when teasing each other. You excited to see Evelyn? Tucker asked Graham one day as the two were sitting on the sand watching the waves.

Yep. I guess so, Graham replied. What about you? You excited to kiss on Virginia?

Tucker looked down at his feet, which he had buried in the sand. Haven’t thought about it much.

Oh, yeah, sure thing, Tuck. It’s been a whole year since you’ve kissed on anyone. I don’t know why you’re like that. You could get any girl you wanted, but you keep them all as pals. Anyone of them would let you kiss them, and yet you just don’t. I would be if I were you, Graham said. You must really like Ginny to be waiting for her, he teased.

Naw, answered Tucker. I don’t know why I’ve been like that. They just mess with my head is all. Seems like too much trouble.

A few days later, the girls arrived. Tucker, Oscar, and Graham headed for the beach where they were to meet. Ginny came running toward Tucker, threw her arms around him, and started to kiss him as if a year hadn’t passed. Tucker stood shocked for a moment and then slowly put his arms around her and returned her eager kisses.

My God, you two! Oscar couldn’t help staring. He looked at Rosilee, and she blushed. He hugged her and then Evelyn and turned back to see Tucker still kissing Ginny. My God, Oscar muttered again.

The six of them spent every day hanging out at Pier Beach, which wasn’t as crowded as some other beaches. They laughed in the sun and splashed in the waves, but mostly they all took their turns under a huge eucalyptus tree, kissing for hours. They rode piggy back, racing down the beach, flopping down exhausted, all of them covered in sand. Then they would race to the ocean, laughing, to rinse off. Sometimes they played war in the ocean, each girl on her guy’s shoulders. Tucker was well aware of Ginny and her body pressed to him. He wondered how he had forgotten this girl and this body. He looked in her eyes as she laughed at something he said and knew he really liked her. One night as Tucker was kissing her goodnight, she put her hand on his face. I’m falling for you, Tucker. Then she turned before he could say a word and walked away.

A few nights later, a group of kids gathered enough wood to have a big bonfire on the beach. Everyone was invited. Even those taking a stroll on the beach sometimes joined in. Everyone stood or sat on blankets or towels brought from home. As the sun set, the fire was started. Tucker sat with Ginny, his arm casually around her shoulder. They all talked and laughed together. Soon there was quite a gathering, and some younger kids showed up as word of the party spread. A bottle of whiskey that someone had filched from their parents was being passed around. Tucker didn’t much care for the taste of it and was surprised when Ginny took a swig, wiped her mouth, giggled, and laid her head on Tucker’s shoulder. The fire crackled and popped as more and more wood was added. Some couples were drifting away from the fire. A second bottle of whiskey was passed around. Voices grew louder as the alcohol took effect.

Oscar leaned over to Tucker and yelled, Hey, Tuck. There’s some young girl throwing up all over the place over there. They could hear people laughing and taunting her. Tucker stood up, pulling Ginny with him. He pushed through the people around the fire and then those standing around the girl, who was on her knees retching into the sand. She had long blonde hair that was dragging in the sand.

Who’s that? Ginny asked.

Beats me, Tucker replied.

They knelt by the girl. You okay? Ginny asked as she took a strand of the girl’s hair and pushed it behind her ear.

No, the girl choked out as she started retching again. After she was done, Tucker sat down and looked into her face.

Grab our blanket, Ginny, please. Ginny went for the blanket. The air was pungent with the smell of whisky. Whiskey’s kind of harsh for a young girl like you, he said.

I guess. She groaned. I’ve never felt so sick in all my life. I don’t know what I was thinking.

Ginny returned with the blanket and laid it over her. The crowd had headed back to the fire. Ginny sat down next to Tucker and put her arm around him. The girl rolled over and threw up again.

I can’t go home. I just want to die.

Tucker patted her gently on the head. It’ll pass. Just lay here for a bit. She lay down and put her head on Tucker’s lap. He looked up at Ginny and shrugged. As soon as the girl’s eyes closed, she fell fast asleep.

Who is she, do you suppose? I’m going to go ask, Ginny said as she stood up and headed toward the group still around the bonfire. She came back a few moments later. No one seems to know, she told Tucker.

Well this is a fine mess, he said.

Ginny sat down again and took his hand in hers. You are a kind person, Tucker Branson. He looked at her and laughed and leaned over and kissed her. When he was finished, he leaned back and saw an out-of-breath Waverly standing over them.

Oh my dear Lord, what’s happened to her? Waverly said, kneeling down and taking the girl’s hand.

Uh, I think she had too much to drink, Tucker muttered. Who is she?

It’s my sister, for God’s sake, Waverly snapped.

Ginny put her hand on Waverly’s arm. We didn’t give her anything to drink. Someone was passing around some whiskey. I’ll bet that’s what happened.

Waverly glanced at them holding hands. What am I going to do? I’ve been so worried about her. My parents are out to dinner, but they will be home soon.

Tucker stood up and gently picked the girl up. We’ll just have to get her home then.

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Tucker

I carried that girl all the way down the beach, stumbling and out of breath. Ginny and Waverly talked softly. I couldn’t hear much of what they were saying. When we got to the road, Waverly pointed to a car, and I carried her sister over and put her in the backseat.

I hate to take you both away from the party, but could you come with me and help me get her in the house? It’s just a few minutes’ drive.

Ginny said, Sure, no problem, and got right in the front seat, leaving me to sit in the back with the vomit-covered girl. I rolled down the window and stuck my head out.

What a stench, I muttered.

Ginny laughed and said, Why do you think I sat in front? You pip!

I caught Waverly looking at me in the rearview mirror, but she didn’t say a word. We pulled up to a gray wood slat house, a bit larger than most homes around. I opened the door, picked up Waverly’s sister, and carried her into the house to a bedroom with a double bed in it.

Just put her here, said Waverly as she pointed to the bed. After I plunked her down, Waverly said, Thank you both so much. I don’t know what I would have done without you.

Ginny said, No bother. The party was getting boring, and we were going to leave anyway. Ginny winked at Tucker.

Come on, y’all, I’ll give you both a ride where you need to go, Waverly said.

You might want to get those God-awful clothes off your sister if you don’t want your parents to know. And don’t worry about the ride; we’ll walk. I grabbed Ginny’s hand and marched out of her house.

What’s the matter, Tucker? Ginny asked me as I strode down the street, Ginny run-skipping to keep up with me.

I don’t know, I said. But I did. Waverly didn’t even remember me.

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Waverly

I had been looking everywhere for Easter. Her friend told me I might find her at the bonfire at Laguna Main Beach. I wasn’t really sure where it was, but I saw a fire off down the beach by some cliffs so I parked and ran down there. I was so surprised to see my sister passed out on Tucker’s lap. It looked like she was dead. Mama and Papa would kill us both if they found out she’d been drinking.

What were you thinking? I asked her angrily as I helped her out of her dress.

I don’t know, she said and started to cry. I sighed and got her some water, which I made her sip slowly.

Just go to sleep, little Easter bunny, I said.

She smiled up at me. Thanks, sis. I love you. It won’t happen again. She rolled over and went to sleep.

I walked out on the porch, sat down, and looked up at the bright stars. It was dark in Laguna and so much quieter than San Diego. My thoughts wandered to Ginny and Tucker. I didn’t know what to say to him when Ginny introduced him to me. He had been such a pill when I met him before. I didn’t know if he remembered me. But they were so kind to take care of Easter and to help me get her home. Ginny asked me to meet them at the beach tomorrow. I liked her and would like to make some friends here. Maybe I’ll go to the beach. I don’t understand why Tucker seemed so mad though.

Chapter 6

California—Summer 1940

T he next day, a storm rolled in and socked in the town with big, gray clouds. It rained so hard, everyone stayed inside for the remainder of the week. The wind blew so strongly it tore the Laguna pier to bits.

Ginny, Rosilee, and Evelyn’s families were packed up to leave, back to Sacramento. The boys went to say good-bye, and Ginny got a little teary as Tucker gave her a gentle kiss. He felt edgy, but then he hadn’t been in the water for days.

After he said good-bye, he walked over to the Cottage Restaurant to buy a pop and to get inside, out of the downpour. Mr. and Mrs. Covington, Waverly, Easter, and a smaller boy with sandy hair were sitting at a table getting ready to order.

Hey, isn’t that you, Tucker? Mr. Covington asked.

Yes, sir, it is, Tucker said, glancing around the table.

Do come sit with us, please. Have something to eat, Mrs. Covington said. There’s an empty chair next to Waverly; sit there. You two remember each other? And this is Easter and Buckley. Call me Emmie, and this is Jack, Emmie said, sliding him a menu. He opened it and looked at the items and didn’t know what to say.

We had dinner with your dad the other night. It sure was good to see him. He said you were at a bonfire. Maybe Waverly could go with you sometime. You could introduce her around, help her get to know people.

Mama, Waverly hissed.

Sure, no problem, Tucker replied, ignoring Waverly’s glare at her mother.

They ordered burgers and fries, and after their food arrived and they had begun to eat, Waverly turned to Tucker and whispered, I’m sorry I didn’t acknowledge you the other night. I was taken back when it was you with Easter. I didn’t know what to say. So, I am sorry.

Tucker looked at her as he shoved french fries into his mouth. I was mad you didn’t say anything, but I didn’t either. So I’m sorry too.

Ginny asked me to come to the beach with y’all. Do you mind if I do that sometime?

You? At the beach? he teased.

Well, I am a California girl now, despite my lily white skin!

Tucker leaned his head back and laughed. You know what, Waverly? I’m sorry about saying all that stuff to you way back when. It was rude—well, I was rude, and I really am sorry.

Apology accepted, she said. Friends?

Yeah, friends, Tucker answered.

So I can go to the beach with y’all?

Tucker paused a long moment as she looked at him expectedly. Ginny and her friends left today to go back to Sacramento, where they live.

Oh, Waverly said, looking surprised. I thought she was your girlfriend.

Well, she is. But she only comes to Laguna in the summer.

Oh, Waverly said again, looking disappointed.

Look. You come hang out with us, my friends and me. I’ll introduce you around.

Would you really? Even though I’m from the South and have this accent? she teased.

Yes, even though you’re a lily white Southern belle, said Tucker with a smile.

Chapter 7

Waverly—California—Summer 1940

T ucker came over the other day, and I grabbed my beach stuff and parasol, and he rolled his eyes and looked like he was going to say something. I looked at him, well, squinted my eyes at him, daring him to say something, and he didn’t. We walked to Arch Beach and headed down a little dirt trail weaving through the cliffs. He took my hand a few times to help me. Down below, I could see two guys sitting on the sand.

Are those your friends? I asked.

Yes, they are. They’re both really nice but sometimes a little immature. Oscar is the one with the brown crew cut, and Graham’s the one with the short dark hair.

Tucker? I said.

Yeah?

I am wondering why your hair is so long. I mean, I like it and all. I’ve never seen a boy with hair that long and curly.

Tucker laughed and said, I know. It is pretty long and shabby. But I like it this way, and my pop doesn’t care as long as I keep my grades up. I guess it just sort of defines me and lets me be me without looking like everyone else.

I looked down at my sundress and knew my bathing suit and sundress were the same as I had seen on other girls. I looked at him. I like your hair. Don’t ever cut it. He smiled, and I noticed how white his teeth were.

We had walked over to his friends, and Tucker introduced me, and when I stuck out my hand, Oscar leaned down and kissed it! Graham and Tucker rolled their eyes at him, and we all started to laugh. When I put up my parasol, I could see Oscar and Graham glance at each other, and Tucker gave them both dirty looks. We sat on the beach and talked for a while. How old are you? Graham asked.

I’ll be fifteen this October.

Aw, a baby, Oscar teased.

Tucker just turned fifteen in June, and Oscar and I turned fifteen in January.

Oh, I replied. So we’re all in the same grade.

Wait a minute, Tucker said, looking perplexed. How did you drive the car the other night?

I looked down at my toes. "I just did. I