"Stern," Anna answered her phone briskly, the manner in which she felt was most professional. Above her, the air conditioner whirred to life. Sooner or later, the heat wave had to break. Anna wondered idly if she would be first.

"It's me," Summer murmured, her tone dreamy.

Anna lowered her voice. "Hey," she breathed.

"Whoa. Are we talking dirty?" Summer laughed.

"Yes, I've decided to have fun with my bad reputation," Anna whispered. Then more loudly, "...so what are you wearing?"

"Is anyone even listening?" Summer asked, still giggling.

"No one important, if that's what you mean. Just the same old snoops." This time Anna laughed, too.

"Okay, seriously. Will you pick up some milk on your way home?"

"Sure," Anna grabbed a pad out of her desk drawer. "You want skim or soy?"

"Hmmm, soy."

"Gotcha. Anything else, 'Highness?"

"You could rent a movie, if you think about it," Summer suggested, her tone airy. Anna knew Summer all-too-well, she would be pissed if Anna didn't think about it. Anna wrote 'movie' after 'soy milk' and 'French bread.'

"Any requests?"

"No, anything is fine," Summer promised.

"Don't forget, slacker, it's your turn to cook."

"I won't forget," Summer sounded offended. "You have to chop the vegetables, though. Can't lose any fingers."

Anna smiled. "I'll be home by six."

"Bye," Summer hung up before Anna could repeat the farewell.

Less than ten seconds later, the phone rang again. Anna grabbed the receiver again, grinning. "I suppose now you have a request."

"Uh, Anna?"

Anna looked around furtively. No one appeared to be paying attention. "Seth?" she hissed.

"Hey. Why are we whispering?" He asked quietly.

"No reason," Anna whispered back. She drummed her pencil against the surface of her desk in an old, nervous habit.

"Okay," Seth agreed. "So..."

"So..."

"I want to see her again," he blurted.

"That's called, stalking, Seth, and it's illegal in almost every state," Anna retorted.

"Well, since you won't let me talk to her, I'll take whatever I can get," Seth sighed.

"You've just got to give me time, Cohen. Let me work out a game plan. I can't just spring this on her out of the blue. I won't."

"Why not? She's not a child. You don't have to tiptoe around her this way."

"I think I know more about her than you do," Anna snapped. She immediately felt guilty. "I'm sorry. I'm just...stressed out. Look, I know she's not a child. But I also know how she gets. She's a different person, now, you have to remember that."

"I get it, Anna, I do. But I'm not just going to sit around indefinitely while you think of ways not to hurt her delicate baby feelings."

Anna narrowed her eyes. "First of all, I never asked you to wait 'indefinitely.' It's been a week. A week, Cohen. You haven't seen her for three years, you can wait a few more days."

"Fine," Seth let out an overly-dramatic exaggerated sigh.

"Call me Friday," Anna said softly.

"Will do, chickie. Bye." Seth hung up.

Anna stood up, straightened her skirt, and looked over to see two of her colleagues glancing over at her, and whispering. Oh, brother.

Four days later, Anna sat at the local Starbucks waiting for Seth. Her twitching foot knocked against the wobbly table; she smoothed her purple suede skirt over her knees. Her thighs were sweating, making the baby pink tights she wore underneath the skirt stick to her skin uncomfortably. She didn't know why she was so nervous, it was only Seth. Any casual observer would have thought she was waiting for the executioner. Because you know you're betraying her, a traitorous inner voice reminded her. She opened up the daily paper and laid it across the wrought iron table, futilely attempted to concentrate.

"Hey Anna," Seth slid into the seat across from her, bringing out his own Thermos. At her quizzical look, he explained. "Ryan makes the best coffee."

Anna raised her eyebrows, but didn't comment. She watched as Seth unscrewed the bright red cap, and then fill the little cup with the hot, bitter liquid. He drank it black; not what she would have expected at all. Ryan looked like he drank his coffee black...but Seth, Seth looked like he liked his sugar and cream with a little coffee on the side. When she used to kiss him, he always tasted of Cap'n Crunch and toothpaste, with just a hint of coffee underneath it all. Hmmm.

"So after I thought about it, I decided you were right," Anna announced. Seth crossed his foot over his knee and began jiggling the table. So, she wasn't the only one who was nervous; good to know.

"Moi? Right about something? Never thought I'd hear anyone say that," Seth tried to laugh it off, but his dark eyes pleaded with her. Please give me a chance. Just one more chance with her.

"You were right about... I've been walking on eggshells with Summer for too long," Anna nodded, resolute. "And you're absolutely right, she's not a doll, and she's not going to break."

"I thought you didn't want to upset her..." Seth trailed off, bemused at Anna's sudden change of heart. It wasn't like Anna to be fickle, or indecisive. He couldn't believe he was arguing with her, after he'd fought for this.

"I don't. But the world is an upsetting place, and I'm not always going to be around to hold her hand, or shelter her. I'm her friend, not her mother."

Seth drew a deep breath. "Okay."

"Okay," Anna agreed.

"So, what? Do you want to meet for coffee or something?"

"Now that's where I will draw the line. I won't humiliate her in public."

"So you want to what? You want me to come over?"

Anna's mind raced. What would be most fitting? Nothing was really going to be fully appropriate, she knew. Summer was going to fly off the handle. She took a long sip of her latte, composing herself. "I was thinking I would tell her that we're going to have a small dinner party."

"I don't want to lie to her," Seth said, his uncertainty evident.

"It's not a lie. You and Ryan are invited over for dinner. Tomorrow night. I'll make dinner, and you come over at seven. Just be prepared, Seth."

"I'll try," Seth forced a weak smile. He made a show of checking his watch. He swallowed the rest of his coffee in a hasty gulp. "I have to go." He rose and leaned over to kiss her cheek. "Thanks, Anna."

"Bye, Cohen." She watched him walk away, his hands shoved into his pockets, his head down. He was still carrying a backpack, a bright blue one that was embroidered with the L.L. Bean logo. He had already pulled out his ipod and was adjusting the earpiece. Anna bit her lip, considered calling him back, telling him to forget all of this. It would be cruel to continue to string him along, but she wondered if was more cruel to make Summer confront a part of her life that she had purposefully put behind her.

Though Summer had never said it, Anna knew she was desperately unhappy. She knew that Summer pulled out her mementos when she thought no one would notice, touching them, remembering. She still had her engagement ring, she still had Princess Sparkle, and several of Seth's old shirts. She'd pull them out, bury her face in the Seth-smelling fabric, and sob.

Anna's heart buckled. She finally understood what her mother meant when she'd told Anna all those times before that life wasn't fair.

"Anna! Anna, come do me a favor," Summer commanded. Anna made her weary way down the hall and into Summer's new bedroom.

"Last favor!" Anna insisted as she entered.

"Last favor," Summer agreed, searching blindly through the boxes. She cut a finger on a sharp corner, drew blood. "Shit."

"Let me see it," Anna crossed over to her, inspected the cut. "You'll live."

"Really, Sherlock?" Summer asked, her words harsh and forced.

"Don't be a smartass," Anna found it easier to boss Summer back with every day that passed.

"Will you find the picture of my mother, please, and put it on my bedside table?"

Anna frowned. "Why? You can't see it..."

"So? I want to know it's there." Summer huffed, blew her bangs out of her eyes. They were getting long, it was about time for a haircut.

Anna shrugged and rooted around in the box of framed photographs until she found the one Summer had been looking for. It was a black and white photo, in a black frame, taken on a cloudy day. Summer couldn't have been more than three years old, sitting on the lap of a remarkably unattractive woman. Her pretty frilly party dress was obviously not her choice, her lower lip stuck out in pouty defiance. As for her mother, a plain black dress obscured any womanly curves that she might have possessed. Long black hair had been knotted into a severe bun at the nape of her neck; her facial expression was caught between a smile and a frown. How very fitting for the woman who had given birth to such a strange, ethereal creature.

"Where is your mother now?" Anna asked in unabashed curiosity, dusting off the frame with the hem of her shirt sleeve.

"She's dead," Summer answered, matter-of-fact.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Anna murmured, moving over the side of the bed to place the picture reverently beside Summer's favorite music box and her bedside lamp.

Summer waved off Anna's concern. "I don't even remember her, really," she lied. "I'm surprised you haven't heard the stories."

Anna's eyebrows shot up to her hairline. Her spine prickled. "What stories?"

Summer's laugh was mirthless. "Everyone in Newport knows two things about my family. One is that my father is the best plastic surgeon on the West Coast, and an arrogant bastard. And two is that my mother offed herself."

Anna cringed at the crude wording and Summer's obvious hurt, and embarrassment. What a legacy to live with, especially in a place like Newport Beach, where gossip was considered a social science, and backstabbing an art. "What happened?"

"Who can say, really?" Summer asked bitterly. "Some say she jumped off a four story building downtown. Others say she shot herself with the pistol that my dad keeps in his office for protection." Summer was shaking with carefully controlled fury, her voice trembled more with every syllable she uttered. Hot tears sprang to her sightless eyes, making her feel ridiculous.

Anna cut through the bullshit. "What happened, Summer?"

Summer sat down on the edge of her bed, lifted her face up. "I found her floating in our swimming pool. She drowned herself."

Anna sank down next to her, covered her mouth with her hand. "Oh, Summer," she placed an arm around Summer's shoulder in a clumsy maneuver.

"Don't feel sorry for me!" Summer demanded, shaking her off.

Anna took Summer's chin in her hand, firm. "I don't feel sorry for you. I feel sorry for any person that feels that they have no other option than to take their own life. I feel sorry for anyone who is too selfish to think about a child that could stumble upon their dead body." She smiled, though Summer was crying fresh tears. "Why would I ever feel sorry for you, you big pain in the ass?"

Summer laughed, a short bark of laughter that bounced off the cheerful green walls of her bedroom, freshly painted.

"Thanks, Anna," she wiped her tears on her grubby tank top, exposing a swath of tummy that was still faintly golden from a long-ago tan.

Anna didn't answer her. "Any others you want out?"

Summer shook her head, mute, and felt, rather than saw Anna close the box and take it into her walk-in closet, for storage. "I put it at the back, so you won't trip over it later," Anna said when she emerged a few seconds later.

"Thanks," Summer said again, moving her head to the side as if to glance around at all the progress she was making unpacking.

"No problem," Anna answered. "I'm going back to the kitchen to finish unpacking the silverware. If you need something else, do it yourself."

Summer heard the grin that accompanied Anna's words, and returned it, her pearly teeth gleaming. For the first time, she didn't regret agreeing to move in with Anna. She still wasn't speaking to Marissa, that black-hearted traitor; and she hadn't spoken with her father in weeks, either. He was in Greece, or Turkey, or somewhere, she thought. Anna was about the only friend she had left, considering Seth and Ryan were out of the picture. She didn't talk with any of her old high school friends, and not a single one of her college buddies had called to check on her since the accident. For the first time in her life, Summer that Muslim girl Roberts was utterly alone.

And then Anna had sailed in, just as bright and clear as the sunshine. She didn't take any of Summer's crap, and she didn't take any excuses. She didn't pander to Summer the way Marissa and the household staff had been doing for months. She insisted they move to New York, make a clean start of it. Anna had been offered a job in a bank, managing the high-dollar storage vault. She needed a roommate, preferably one with a disposable income.

Summer was tired of the idle life, she was tired of wasting away, feeling restless and bored. Anna didn't let her do that. Anna forced her to leave the house. Anna forced her to get up every morning and get dressed. Anna forced her to eat, and sleep, and all the other little things Summer had let slide in the weeks after the accident. Anna had made her want to live again.

That didn't mean she didn't have misgivings about this cockamamie plan to move to New York City, of all places. Anna had brooked no argument, however. All of Summer's excuses were met with the stone-wall of Anna's will. Her father had been glad to see her leave, though he didn't say it to her face. He never would.

Summer didn't know how long this would last, this arrangement, but it had to be better than anything in Newport Beach. She was ready to make a fresh start of it, a clean break from the life she had left behind. It was time to move on.

To be Continued...