Reappearance of Summmer

by D J Small

  Summer drank some of the brown liquor in her glass and drew in a deep breath through her nose. “Yeah, well I didn’t have a choice in the matter. The president of the United States ordered me to come, and,” she lifted her glass for a mock salute, “I, her most humble servant, did what I was ordered to do.”

  “That’s an abuse of power.”

  Summer scoffed at the indignation in her dad’s tone. “I’m military, and she is commander in chief. I am at her mercy.”

  Summer reached for the bottle of scotch, but her dad was faster, and he snatched it out of her reach before she could grab it. “You don’t need any more.” Summer scowled at him, and he sighed. Matt went back over to the rail of the balcony and said, “This wouldn’t have happened if you had just gone to Yale like your mother and I had planned for you.”

  Summer wasn’t sober enough for this conversation. It was one she had been a part of too many times over the last couple of years. “Oh, fucking come off it, dad,” Summer shouted as she slammed her glass down on the table in front of the couch.

  The outraged glare coming from her father had no affect on her. He would find some way to have the same conversation again, but she couldn’t deal with it now. “So, I didn’t fucking go to Yale. Instead, I went into the academy and fell in love with a gorgeous, incredible, ambitious woman who had amazing dreams, but look at me now. I’m the one-legged family fuck-up.” She snorted in disgust and added, “Right about now, we all wish I had gone to fucking Yale.”

  “Summer, I-I—”

  Summer held up her hand to stop him. “Don’t. You can take your apology and shove it up your ass.” She got her crutches, and as she slipped her right arm through the cuff she said, “I get it. I’m the family screw-up and the asshole who publicly embarrassed our country’s leader.” Once she had her other crutch situated, Summer stood, and it took tremendous effort considering how drunk she was. “The all-American fuck-up who became a shit show in front of a live audience. I’m an embarrassment to you and mom, the Armstrong name, and whatever the fuck else. I just want to be left the fuck alone, but none of you seem to understand that.” Summer glared at her dad. “I don’t need your guilt. I am fine all on my own in that department, and I feel it every fucking day.”

  Matt began to apologize again. “Summer, I didn’t mean to—”

  “Don’t bother, dad. You won’t even mean it.” She began to head back inside. “Keep the scotch. I’m certain I can get Secret Service to scrounge up another bottle.” Summer walked into the Residence and made her way to the Lincoln Room. She slammed the door closed upon entering the room and went over to the bed, sitting down on the edge of it. Staring at the crutches resting beside her, anger consumed Summer, and she picked up one and threw it.

  Tears blurred her vision as she stared down at her residual limb. Summer had come to a better place about losing her leg, but being inside the White House and around Val brought up several unresolved issues she had yet to deal with. She wiped at her eyes, and as she dropped her hand her gaze landed on the bottle of sleeping pills sitting on the bedside table. Mixing them with alcohol wasn’t wise, but she didn’t care, Summer needed to escape the thoughts and emotions threatening to swallow her whole. She reached for the bottle of pills and swallowed three of them down. After ordering the lights to shut off, Summer got underneath the covers and waited for the pills to kick in.

  Her mind drifted from one thing to the next then she began to think about what had caused her to leave the White House in the first place. Summer knew the signs of PTSD and depression because of her time in the military and knowing men and women who dealt with both, but pride and fear had prevented her from seeking treatment, and she fell deeper into the hole her trauma and depression had created.

  Having her mental health degrade while in the national spotlight, along with her behavior towards Val, had eventually led to her decision to leave. After she had broken her ties to Val, Summer had vowed to never come back to Washington again, but it seemed life wanted to see her suffer a little more. A few more minutes passed, then the medication kicked in, and for a brief moment, Summer felt a sliver of peace.

  ~~~

  An hour after the state dinner had ended, Val had been pulled into an urgent meeting in the Situation Room; Basara had an update from the Alliance about the troops that had been taken. As predicted, the leaders of the Alliance wanted to deal with the treaty first, then the insurgents. The holographic conference call with Basara, the prime minister of Syria, and the newly appointed president of Saudi Arabia had just ended when Val looked around the table, waiting to see which of her advisors would speak first.

  “Madam President, can I say something?”

  Val grinned and remarked, “Admiral Prescott, I would be surprised if you didn’t say something.”

  He chuckled. “Are we going to let these—”

  “Choose your words carefully, Virgil, or I will make sure you get stationed in a remote part of Alaska,” Val warned. Sometimes the admiral made bigoted comments, and it usually resulted in her administration and the naval department doing damage control to settle the storm he caused.

  Admiral Prescott pointed at her. “You know I like to push your buttons, ma’am.” He cleared his throat. “In all seriousness, Madam President, we can’t leave this in their hands. The Alliance barely has a handle on how to govern the region, and they’ve been around for forty plus years now. I understand they want to eliminate the nukes, but we need to get those men and women home or we’re going to have a goddamn mess on our hands. Is this how you want your final term as president to end? With you submitting to some damn organization that doesn’t know its head from its ass?”

  “Prescott, you and your backwoods routine isn’t helpful, nor is it wanted. The Treaty of 2072 ties our hands,” General Archambault countered. “Now, unless you would like to start World War Three, do shut up.”

  Val chuckled quietly to herself. She liked it when the members of the Joint Chiefs of Staff and National Security Council were at odds. It distracted her from the stress of what they were currently dealing with.

  Val’s vice-president, Michelle Kirkland, entered the fray. “All right, 2072 is something we can’t do anything about, so how about a rescue mission? Tell the Alliance it is imperative that we find and extract our troops from Iraq, or we won’t host the negotiations.”

  “We can’t do that,” Val said as she gave her head a slight shake. “These negotiations are also important for global safety as much as they are for the Middle East. The treaty discussions need to happen, and we will not rescind our invitation to host them either.”

  “Then what the hell are we going to do?” Prescott asked as he hit the conference table. “I refuse to roll over for infidels living in a part of the world that hasn’t gotten its shit together in the last two, three hundred years.”

  “Which was caused by Eastern involvement,” Val argued in a bored tone. She drew in a deep breath. “I will float the rescue mission to Basara, who will take it to the Alliance. For now, let’s focus on California and the upcoming treaty talks.”

  There were a few murmurs of agreement, but several looks of disapproval, and Admiral Prescott glared at her. Val would chuckle about his behavior later, but right now she was exhausted and wanted to go to bed. “Jabir, keep an eye on things and update me on any changes.” Val stood from the table, and everyone else stood with her. “Goodnight, everyone.”

  Val walked out of the conference room and as she reached the elevator someone called out, “President Hawkins, a word?”

  Val saw General Archambault walking towards her and smiled. “Yes, of course. Let’s step in here.” The two of them went into an empty office. “What did you need to talk about, Fiona?”

  “I wanted to talk to you about Summer. I saw her at the state dinner.” Fiona sighed. “How is she doing?”

  The forced chuckle that came from Val lacked any real joy. “I’m the wrong person you should be asking about this, you know that.”<
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  “I know, and I’m sorry.” She waited a beat then continued. “You know she can’t lead this rescue mission if it does happen, right?”

  Val released an aggravated breath. “Of course I know that.”

  Silence filled the small office for a second, then Fiona said, “I don’t understand how you could have let her leave like that. It’s obvious she isn’t stable. I mean, for goodness’ sake, Val, she couldn’t even handle a state dinner.”

  Val stared at the general before a severe scowl came to her face seconds later. “You do not get to talk to me about Summer, nor can you condemn me for things you know nothing about. Do you understand, General Archambault?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Val held her gaze and her eyes cut into her. “Is there anything else you need to address?”

  Fiona gave her head a slight shake. “No, Madam President.”

  “Then you are dismissed,” Val ordered in a low, biting tone. The general made a quick exit from the office, and Val sighed. She would apologize to Fiona later, but being blamed for letting Summer leave by someone who didn’t know the events that had happened after her crash was too much. The guilt she carried had done enough damage to her over the last two years.

  Val left the small office, deciding to take the stairs so she could use the extra few seconds to sort through the numerous thoughts in her mind, and instead of thinking about the situation in the Middle East, she thought about Summer.

  “Are you all right?”

  Val hadn’t been paying attention to her surroundings and she nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of Addison’s voice. “Fucking dammit, Addison!” She drew in a deep breath to get her racing heart under control, while Addison laughed hysterically at her reaction. “I’m going to put a fricking bell on you. Where did you come from?”

  Addison caught her breath and said, “I was in my office, waiting for you to come back.”

  Val scowled at her, then gestured for her to follow her into the Oval. “How did it go?”

  Val sighed and closed the door behind them. “The Alliance is concerned about the nuclear treaty, Prescott and Archambault almost had it out, and Michelle suggested we present the Alliance with a rescue mission because our main concern are our people.”

  “Where do you stand?” Addison asked as Val walked over to the couch and plopped down on it.

  Val chuckled. “Believe it or not, I’m with Prescott.”

  “That is more than scary,” Addison said as she sat down on the couch next to her.

  Val grinned at her. “Isn’t it?” The two of them shared a chuckle. “But since thinking like Prescott will lead to World War Three, I am more inclined to take Michelle’s approach. We can have the treaty talks, but at the same time, we need to plan for a rescue mission.”

  Addison nodded. “Okay, it’s nice to see you haven’t lost all your brain cells. When do you want to start planning for the rescue mission?”

  Val drew in a deep breath and blew it out. “Jabir already has the plans outlined. I just need to sign off on them with everyone else.” She bit her bottom lip. “Fiona talked to me about Summer.”

  “Oh, crap,” Addison muttered.

  Val sat up and faced her chief of staff, pinning her down with an intense glare. “What happened tonight, Addison? And do not tell me you’re handling it, because Summer being drunk at a state dinner is far from handling it.”

  Addison stared at her a second longer before she broke the gaze they shared. The moment she got off the couch and started to pace, Val knew something serious had happened. Addison exhaled and looked at her. “She had a panic attack.”

  Val’s eyebrows furrowed. Summer didn’t have panic attacks. In fact, she lived for high-pressure situations with low odds. Her ex-wife’s fearlessness had taken years off of her life because she used to love taking risky assignments, but Val hadn’t stopped Summer from doing what made her happy. “A panic attack? No, that’s not possible.”

  “Trust me, I know it sounds highly unlikely, and if I hadn’t seen it with my own two eyes I would be right there with you, but she did, Val.”

  Val let her head fall back against the couch. The guilt she had been keeping under lock and key came free, and tears formed in her eyes. “This is all my fault.”

  Addison sat back down on the couch and took hold of her hand. “No. Val, you had no way—”

  “I did, Addison,” Val said as she lifted her head to look at her. “I did. I sent Summer on that fucking mission and did nothing when she began to exhibit signs of depression and PTSD.”

  Addison released a quiet breath. “What were you supposed to do? Not only were you running the country, but with the way she behaved towards you, it wasn’t like she would have given you the opportunity to help her.”

  No matter what Addison said, Val’s guilt burned inside her like slow dissolving acid, and it hurt like hell. “I saw the signs, but I kept telling myself she just needed time.” She scoffed. “Some wife I am—or was. I should have forced her to get help. On some level, I knew the crash had an effect on her, but all I did was give her space, and look what happened. Summer stopped being my Summer, and then she left me.” Chuckling softly, Val shook her head. “And I naively thought she was getting help this entire time. Yeah, she’s better off without me.”

  “Stop it, Val. I’m not going to let you beat yourself up over this. You had a lot to focus on after Summer’s crash; the country, vital pieces of legislation, and a host of other things. Not to mention the fact that anytime you tried to go near her she would verbally assault you and scream at you. It wasn’t healthy for either of you,” Addison pointed out. Val could tell she was trying to make her see reason, but her guilt made it impossible to do.

  Val pulled her hand out of Addison’s and got off the couch. “The mental health of my wife was something I should have been acutely aware of, but I wasn’t. I should have been there for her, Addison.” Tears came to Val’s eyes once again, and a few of them fell free. “She was my wife, best friend, and the one person who saw all of me, but when she needed me, I wasn’t there.”

  Val covered her eyes as guilt, pain, and the loss of her and Summer’s relationship overwhelmed her, and she began to cry. Addison’s arms wrapped around her an instant later, and Val clung to the only life she had had over the last two years. If it weren’t for Addison, she would have suffered a mental breakdown months after Summer had left. Several minutes passed and when Val had managed to get herself under control, she drew in a deep breath and lifted her head, her eyes meeting Addison’s. The corner of her mouth lifted for a pitiful smile. “Sorry.”

  Addison chuckled and wiped Val’s eyes. “Honestly, I’m surprised this didn’t happen sooner.” She moved her hand away from Val’s face. “Feel better?”

  Val shook her head. “No, but what else am I going to do?”

  “I hate to point this out to you, but Summer is here. You could see if she’d be open to letting you help her now,” Addison gently suggested.

  Val chuckled and moved away from her. “It’s probably too late for that.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  Val grunted and said, “If her anger is anything to go by, I do.” She sighed. “I think I’m going to let her leave. It’s obvious being here isn’t good for her, and I can’t use her for the rescue mission. She’s useless to me.” It pained Val to say the words. She never thought she would use such words to describe Summer, who had always been consistent and willing to do whatever she could for Val, but like she had said minutes ago, this person wasn’t her Summer. Val expelled a tired sigh. “I’m going to go to bed. I’ve got a meeting with the California reps and the governor, treaty details to go over, and I’m sure I’ve got a lot of other things to do tomorrow.”

  Addison gave her a small smile. “If you need a detailed run down I can go get your schedule”

  Val shot her an annoyed glance and said, “Goodnight, Addison.” She turned to leave, and before she reached the door she snapp
ed her fingers and faced Addison again. “Do me a favor, get me information on Hasem and Nasir and have Reynolds meet me for a late lunch tomorrow.”

  Addison’s eyebrows furrowed. “May I ask why?”

  Val shook her head. “The less you know, the less you have to testify to, if it ever comes to that.”

  “What did I tell you about not stirring the pot?”

  Val grinned. “Goodnight, Addison.” She chuckled as she walked out of the Oval Office. The West Wing still bustled with activity, and Val shook her head. This part of the complex never slept, but then again, neither did the country. Val said goodnight to various staffers as she headed for the West Colonnade. The call of sleep had her walking faster than usual, but she came to a stop when she reached the second floor of the Residence. A group of Secret Service agents stood outside the Lincoln Room having a hushed conversation.

  Val frowned as she stalked over to them, wondering what Summer could have possibly done to pull them from their posts. She stopped short of the group of agents and cleared her throat. One agent turned around, stood at attention, and quickly said, “Madam President.” The others quickly followed suit.

  “What happened?”

  The agent opened her mouth, stammering briefly before falling silent. Val sighed and pointed at the man standing next to her. “Malsteen.”

  The agent cleared his throat, but before he could answer, a shriek came from the Lincoln Room. Val disregarded the agents, pushing past them to make her way into the room. She came to an abrupt stop inside the doorway. The light from the hallway illuminated the room a little, and she saw Summer thrashing around on the bed, mumbling incoherently between whimpers as she slept.

  Agent Malsteen whispered, “Ma’am, this has been going on for the last hour. We didn’t know if we should get a doctor or not.”

  Val stared at Summer, who still moved erratically because of the nightmare she was stuck in. After another second had passed, Val shook her head. “Don’t get the doctor. Just go, take the others with you.”