by Juniper Hart
The first question she asked Lara was if she did drugs. The answer was a resounding, “No!”
Summer moved in with the young woman.
It was perfect. They shared a small but quaint house near Lions Park on East Boulevard Avenue, and slowly, Summer began to lower her guard and like her roommate. It took a little bit of time, but Lara’s easy-going personality and warmth made Summer feel welcome.
She found a job as a part-time cashier at Walmart and a better income at The Cherry House. As her bank account began to show signs of savings, Summer realized that she didn’t want to find her own place; she was happy living with Lara.
Their house was filled with serenity and goodness, not anger and loud voices.
I’m exactly where I need to be, Summer thought happily.
Of course, she should have known better.
“Hey! Are you working or daydreaming?” someone snapped, and Summer shifted her gaze toward the surly yet handsome man glaring at her.
“What can I get you, sir?” she asked, forcing a smile onto her lips.
He sneered slightly and turned to his companion.
“What did you say you wanted?” he demanded. “I was standing here so long, I forgot what you said.”
“Leave her alone, Ty,” the other one laughed. “She looks like she’s having a rough night as it is.”
“What do you want to drink?” Ty snapped back. “We’re already holding up the line because of slow Susan here.”
Summer gritted her teeth and maintained the smile on her face.
“Sorry,” she answered. “What will it be?”
“Two Buds, doll,” the kinder man called. “And ignore Ty. He gets grumpy when he’s been reamed out by his boss.”
Ty whipped his head around to glare warningly at his friend, and Summer watched as their gazes seemed to lock in an unwavering stare.
Uncomfortably, Summer turned to retrieve the drinks, leaving the men to watch one another.
“Is that asshole giving you a problem?”
Tonya was behind her and Summer quickly shook her head. The last thing she wanted was for the redhead to start a commotion with the already irate man.
“No, it’s fine,” she replied quickly. “I’ve got this.”
Tonya eyed her with wise brown irises, but she didn’t answer. Summer could feel her watching them as she returned to Ty and his friend.
“That’s nine dollars,” she said, and Ty glowered at her.
“Nine dollars?” he echoed. “I could buy an entire case for nine bucks!”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake, Ty,” his friend muttered, stepping up to the bar. He handed Summer a twenty and grinned disarmingly.
“Keep the change,” he told her, grabbing Ty by the arm.
“You gave her a tip that’s more than the bill!” Ty exploded as his friend led him away. “She doesn’t deserve it, Jake!”
Summer pretended not to watch them, quickly wiping the spot on the bar with a dishrag.
You’re almost done for the night, she thought, swallowing the lump of anger in her throat. Forget about Ty and his attitude.
“Rum and coke, please.”
Another customer stepped up to the bar, distracting Summer from her woe, and she refocused her attention on serving drinks.
She had to save her anxiety for some other time; Alex was going to be at her place later.
Chapter Two
The house was blessedly silent when Summer entered the property and she ensured she was extra quiet as she closed the front door.
No signs of life were visible in the small house, but Alex’s shoes were in the hallway. She had already seen his BMW in the driveway, shattering any hope that he had decided not to visit.
He is here, she thought, her hands growing clammy. No doubt about it.
Summer tiptoed across the front hall and made her way back to her bedroom at the far end of the long center hallway, barely glancing at Lara’s closed door as she did.
Quietly, quietly, she urged herself. Don’t make a sound.
She opened the door to her bedroom and exhaled softly, but she was not breathing easily.
Maybe this time it will be different, she thought, even though she didn’t believe her own words. It was the same childish notion she had every night.
It was never different. It was always the same thing and there was no escape.
Her body tense, Summer began to remove her work outfit, slipping the V-neck black t-shirt over her head and wriggling out of her skinny jeans.
By only the light of her bedside lamp, Summer caught a glimpse of herself in the full-length mirror.
She was aptly named.
There was a warmth and sensuality about her, which spoke beyond her corn-blonde hair and vivid blue eyes.
It was more than her lovely complexion and smooth skin, though; her internal beauty radiated outwardly and inadvertently touched everyone in her path. If she had been more self-confident, she would have realized that the reason the children had picked on her so tirelessly in school was because they were envious of the qualities that made her so special. She embodied characteristics that had no name and could not be learned, only be inherently known.
Summer was exhausted, and as she pulled an oversized t-shirt from her bottom drawer and drew it over her blonde crown, she knew it was more emotional fatigue than physical.
She was not well suited to work in the hospitality industry. Her highly empathetic nature made her a vacuum for the negative emotions of others, and truthfully, she preferred solitude to the presence of others.
It seemed that she was always drained after her shifts, her body deigning to sleep but her mind continuing full steam ahead.
Oftentimes it was dawn before she would fall into a fitful slumber, still dreaming of owls, but Summer knew that with Alex in the next room, she would get no sleep that night.
Sighing, she slid in between her sheets, stretching her tired form cat-like before leaning across to switch off the lamp.
The second her eyes closed, she saw the obnoxious customer from work in her mind’s eye.
What was that jerk’s problem anyway? She thought, remembering how he had sneered at her. Just thinking about it made her upset, and she tried to push the thought out of her head.
I should count sheep or something, she told herself, but by the time she got to ten, she was already reliving the memory of Ty’s attitude. If his friend hadn’t been there, who knew how much further things would have gone.
The Cherry House was upscale enough that she didn’t often find herself in the middle of abusive treatment, but alcohol was known to bring out the worst in some people. It was inevitable that someone like Ty would occasionally come in and ruin Summer’s entire evening.
Not tonight, she thought grimly. He’s already ruined part of it. I am not letting him affect any more of my night. Anyway, if not for his attitude, I would never have gotten such a big tip from Jake.
She wondered how two people like that spent time with one another.
One man was clearly a sullen, moody prick, while the other was kind and well-mannered.
What do they talk about? Do they constantly fight with one another?
As if on cue, a curt, angry voice erupted from the room next door.
Summer felt the hair on her arms raise and she sat up slowly, listening.
The room was very dark without the lamp’s illumination, yet she seemed to see every object as if they were also present in her mind.
Silence followed the initial outburst and choked sobs met her ears.
Dammit! Not again.
She wondered why she was surprised. She wondered why it still affected her the way it did.
I should be desensitized to this by now, she thought, but Summer would never lose her sensitivity. She had tried many times to do just that.
“Stop your crying!” Alex screamed.
Summer did not need to strain her ears. Lara stifled another cry and a dull thud ensued.
S
ummer swallowed a scream of her own, but she did not move. She was frozen in place, willing herself not to hear the abuse in her roommate’s bedroom.
She heard nothing afterwards, but she could imagine Lara lying next to her brute of a boyfriend, cowering in fear.
Why does she put up with him? Why does she allow this to keep happening?
But Summer knew the matter was not that simple, and she forced herself to stop asking the question.
Alex Saunders had waltzed into Lara’s life like Fred Astaire on the Silver Screen two years earlier. It was easy to see why Lara had been so taken with him; he was handsome and clever. His jokes were renowned and repeated often in the place of their mutual employment.
At first, Lara had been reluctant to date the charming real estate agent, but he had slowly broken down her resolve with flowers and charisma.
“He’s too good to be true,” Lara confided in Summer at the beginning. “He absolutely dotes on me and I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop.”
Apparently, it dropped for the first time six months into their relationship. Summer had not witnessed it and had not learned about it until many months later, and by that time, it had been too late to stop the cyclone of terror that Alex was inflicting upon her best friend.
The first time Summer heard Alex’s violent rampage toward Lara, she called the police. Lara never pressed charges.
When it happened again, Summer urged Lara to call the police on her own.
Lara would only look at her with dull brown eyes and shake her head. “For what? They’ll throw him in jail for a night and when he gets out, he’ll be madder than hell and ruin my life.”
“Then you have to end it!” Summer insisted. “Get a restraining order and end it once and for all! You can’t let him keep doing this to you!”
Lara would agree and cut him loose, but a week later, Alex would come strolling back into the house, a bouquet of roses in his arms, and Lara would forgive him. Whatever became of the restraining orders was unknown to Summer, and it seemed that over time, Lara was beginning to confide in her less and less.
It was a horrific cycle, made worse only by the fact that Summer was powerless to stop it. His yelling was constant; it happened every night he came over. The physical violence didn’t happen nightly, or even weekly, but just about every two months, something would set Alex off and he would take it out on Lara.
“If you don’t call the police, I will!” Summer threatened after a particularly bad fight she had overheard.
Lara had looked at her with two black eyes and said something that would haunt Summer to the grave.
“Then you may as well just stab me to death yourself, because if you do, you will have killed me.”
Oddly, Alex seemed oblivious to the fact that Summer knew about his propensity for hitting her roommate. In the mornings after fights, he greeted her as if he had not spent the night in a violent rampage that had left Summer sobbing under her covers.
Summer could do nothing but maintain a frosty politeness and continue to beg Lara to leave.
I should move, she thought to herself, but she knew there was no way she would ever leave her friend. Lara was the closest thing to a family she had ever known, and Summer could not live with herself if she left her roommate in the clutches of a maniac.
As she had anticipated, sleep did not come for her, and she lay in wait for dawn to appear. She was working both jobs the following day, and while she needed the sleep, her mind forbade the idea.
When the weak light of morning finally filtered through her window, Summer slipped out of her bed and silently made her way to the kitchen.
She put on the coffee maker and sunk onto a chair at the table, wondering how much more she could take of the stresses around her before cracking.
“Hey.”
Summer turned to look at Lara, who had sauntered in behind her. Alex was nowhere in sight.
“Hey,” she sighed. “Are you okay?” The question had been asked so many times, it had lost its meaning. Still, it had to be asked.
Of course Lara was not all right; it showed in her limpid brown eyes. It was evident in her slow, almost sluggish movements.
Summer twisted her body to study Lara’s form for signs of bruising, but there was nothing apparent.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Lara answered quickly. “What time did you come in last night?”
“After three,” Summer replied, her light blue eyes following Lara around the kitchen as her friend reached into the cupboards for mugs.
Lara flashed her a nervous smile.
“Alex is here,” she offered, and Summer felt her jaw lock.
“I heard,” she muttered, but Lara pretended not to notice her tone.
“I’m going to make pancakes,” she said cheerfully.
Summer could hear the underlying tension in her voice.
If I’m under stress, Lara must be feeling a million times worse, she thought.
Summer could only imagine the constant fear plaguing her friend. She was sure that half the anxiety she experienced was the energy she picked up from Lara.
“It’s okay,” she told Lara. “I’m working at Walmart today. I start at nine.”
Lara shot her a look, which was a mixture of disappointment and relief.
“Okay,” she said. “Are you going to be home tonight? I can make lasagna or something.”
Summer shook her head.
“No, I’m working at The Cherry House at seven.”
Lara poured a cup of coffee and sat down at the table with Summer.
“You should give up one of your jobs,” she told her seriously. “You’re working too much.”
Summer did not know how to respond.
How can I tell her that I only work so many hours to avoid the strain in the house?
Naturally, Summer did not say anything of the sort, and she grinned at Lara instead.
“How am I going to become a millionaire if I don’t keep working?” she joked.
“You should get into real estate!” Alex declared, strolling into the kitchen, a dishevelled mess of bedhead and a wrinkled white t-shirt.
The women seemed to bristle in unison.
“Good morning, honey,” Alex chirped, placing an affectionate kiss on Lara’s head. “Good morning, Summer.”
“Good morning,” Summer mumbled, rising from her spot.
“What do you say? Should I consider getting you a real estate licence?” Alex teased. “I keep telling Lara she is wasting her talents as a receptionist. Bismarck is growing and you guys should get your hand in the market and build up a reputation before it’s a free for all.”
Summer smiled tightly.
He would know; Alex was always rolling in cash, flashing it around at every opportunity. He lavished Lara with expensive gifts, especially after he had been on the attack.
“Sales are not really my thing,” Summer replied softly. “I have to get ready for work. I’ll say goodbye before I go.”
“Okay,” Lara replied, turning her head slightly, and it was in that moment that Summer saw the perfect imprint of a hand on her left cheek. She hurried out of the kitchen as Alex chuckled.
“She is a little shy, huh? I really think I should set her up with Tom at the office,” she heard him comment, but she did not hear Lara’s response as she disappeared into her bedroom.
He has mistaken my meekness for shyness, she thought, her heart filled with despair. And I have no interest in Tom or any other man, much less any he knows.
Somehow, Summer survived the day shift at Walmart, but as she settled into her trusty Honda Civic to head north on South 26th Street, her eyes grew incredibly tired.
Before putting the car in reverse, she closed her lids for a minute, recalling how she had not slept the night before.
I should call into The Cherry House tonight, she thought. It’s three hours before my shift. Maybe they can find someone to cover me.
The idea was beyond tempting, and Summer sat in her car, th
e radio playing softly in the background as she seriously considered it. They had just hired a new girl who might want the hours…
No, she reminded herself. It’s Saturday. Alex will probably come over after his poker game.
The thought sent a spark of adrenaline through her and she pulled out of the parking spot. She needed to make a quick stop at home before heading to work again so she could change.
Maybe I’ll take a nap for an hour. I have time.
The thought was delicious and she planned on taking herself up on it, but as she pulled up to her house, Summer was filled with a renewed energy. Sleep was the last thing on her mind.
Stupid fourth wind, she thought angrily. Why can’t I just get tired at the same time as normal people and sleep like normal people?
“How was work?” Lara called from the living room, where she was curled up reading a book.
“I survived,” she joked. “Alex is gone?”
It was an unnecessary question; his car was no longer in the driveway.
Lara nodded and turned her attention back to the paperback on her lap.
“Lara…”
Her roommate looked up, staring at her inquisitively. Summer took a deep shaky breath, trying to summon the courage to say what had been on her mind for over two years.
“Lara,” Summer started again. “I can’t live like this.”
Lara’s face flowed through various emotions, resting on confusion.
“What’s wrong?”
“You know what’s wrong,” Summer sighed. “Alex is going to kill you one day. It’s not going to get better. You watch as much Dateline as I do.”
Lara’s face turned defensive.
“He is getting better!” she snapped. “He doesn’t do it as much as he used to.”
“That’s just not true! Besides, he shouldn’t be doing it all!”
Summer rushed toward Lara to point out the bruise on her face, but to her horror, Lara flinched at her approach. She drew back as if Summer was going to strike her. Summer’s eyes widened in shock.
“Did you think I was going to hit you?” she asked, her eyes filling with tears.
