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Contents ( 66)
  1. Cover
  2. Books by Valerie Fraser Luesse
  3. Title Page
  4. Copyright Page
  5. Dedication
  6. Contents
  7. Map of Florida
  8. one
  9. two
  10. three
  11. four
  12. five
  13. six
  14. seven
  15. eight
  16. nine
  17. ten
  18. eleven
  19. twelve
  20. thirteen
  21. fourteen
  22. fifteen
  23. sixteen
  24. seventeen
  25. eighteen
  26. nineteen
  27. twenty
  28. twenty-one
  29. twenty-two
  30. twenty-three
  31. twenty-four
  32. twenty-five
  33. twenty-six
  34. twenty-seven
  35. twenty-eight
  36. twenty-nine
  37. thirty
  38. thirty-one
  39. thirty-two
  40. thirty-three
  41. thirty-four
  42. thirty-five
  43. thirty-six
  44. thirty-seven
  45. thirty-eight
  46. thirty-nine
  47. forty
  48. forty-one
  49. forty-two
  50. forty-three
  51. forty-four
  52. forty-five
  53. forty-six
  54. forty-seven
  55. forty-eight
  56. forty-nine
  57. fifty
  58. fifty-one
  59. Epilogue
  60. Keep Reading for a Preview of Valerie Luesse’s Next Book!
  61. Prologue
  62. one
  63. Acknowledgments
  64. About the Author
  65. Back Ads
  66. Back Cover

For now, the waters of St. Augustine would have to be his runway. Since he was still new to them, Peyton retraced the route Aunt Gert had shown him—up the Matanzas River, through the pass, into the Atlantic, and down the coast to Anastasia Island, where he did a fair enough job of backing the Madame next to the dock and tying her up.

He decided to leave his food and cooler in the boat and take a walk on the beach. Kicking off his shoes, he rolled up his khakis and walked along the water’s edge, letting the waves give him a splash now and then. Every time planes from one of Florida’s many bases flew over, he stopped and looked up, shading his eyes to see if he could spot any Mustangs.

Airplanes aside, whenever he let his thoughts drift in their chosen direction, they always carried him straight to Lisa. Though he had given up hope of spending any time at all with her this summer, she was always there, in the back of his mind. He could close his eyes and picture her in the gown she had worn to the spring formal.

Before the dance, Peyton had asked his father to quiz him on all the rules he was supposed to remember: The young man stands here, the young lady stands there . . . Halfway through, his dad stopped mid-sentence and said, “Son, they’re teaching you everything except what you really need to know.” And then he said something Peyton never forgot: “What most boys your age don’t understand about girls is that they’re not trophies to show off or points to score. They’re people. You want to win over a special girl like Lisa? Listen to her. Pay attention to her—what she says and what she does and what she thinks and what she feels. And don’t so much as glance at another girl when you’re out with her. She deserves better than that. All girls do. Treat Lisa like she’s the only person in the room, and I promise you, she won’t care whether you bow or curtsy.”

The night of the dance, Peyton was allowed one of his grandparents’ drivers so he wouldn’t have to be taxied to and from a big date by his dad. When the car arrived, his father winked at him and said, “You remember what we talked about. I told Floyd to take you anywhere you like, as long as you behave yourself and get Lisa home on time.”

Peyton had never been more grateful for his father’s advice than he was that night. Lisa looked so beautiful in the emerald dress that brought out the little green flecks in her blue eyes. And she was like a feather in his arms, so easy to dance with, be it a waltz or a fox-trot. When they were twirling to the music, Lisa seemed happy and content, but between dances, when they were surrounded by all the other couples who had grown up together but were still strangers to her, a lonely cloud would cross her pretty face.