Summer's Song

by Lindi Peterson

  His hand anchors me as I try to stand. Like standing will strip away the hurt feelings.

  “Stay. I’m sorry.”

  Not saying anything, I remain seated. Being around Levi is really taking my emotions places I don’t remember them being.

  “My mom died when I was two. I don’t remember her. It was just me, my dad, and my little brother living life in a very unconventional manner.”

  His gaze lowers, and I wait for him to continue.

  “My dad never caught on to the working aspect of life. My brother, Jake, and I went hungry a lot. We never had new toys, or used toys for that matter. We spent our life moving around, sneaking out of places in the middle of the night because we couldn’t pay our rent. Of course, back then I didn’t know that’s what we were doing. Dad always called it an adventure.”

  If I thought my whoosh had left me moments ago, I don’t know what’s happening to me right now. His story makes me want to make it all better for him. Makes me want to reach out and hold him until the memories go away. But memories don’t go away. They linger.

  Forever.

  “Levi, I’m sorry.” I don’t know what else to say.

  “There’s nothing for you to be sorry about. It is what it is.”

  “Where are they now? Your dad and brother?” My breath is shaky asking the question.

  He pulls his knees up and rests his elbows on his legs. “Dead. Dad died about ten years ago. Alcohol finally got the best of him. And Jake, well, Jake was running away from some people he shouldn’t have been around, and they shot him. That happened just a few months ago.”

  Somehow having my sister write a tell-all book seems small and insignificant. “Levi.” The whisper of his name is the only thing I can manage to get out.

  He brushes a stray crumb off his jeans.

  I have to make this better for him. “Look at you. You’re a great person. You sing songs for Jesus. You love God. I mean, where did that start?” The urge to hug him and comfort him is almost overwhelming. What started out as my pity party has turned into something about Levi.

  “Skeet. But that’s another story for another day. I think our pizza is getting cold.”

  In one swift movement he stands. I grab onto his hand, and he pulls me to my feet. His gaze never leaves mine, his hand doesn’t let go. It’s like we’re connected. I don’t want to move or do anything to break this bond.

  I see his Adam’s apple move as he swallows. His brown eyes tell me he’s interested. His lips say he wants to kiss me.

  My hand, still in his, shakes slightly. My breath feels non-existent.

  “I never intended to dump all that on you, Summer. You’re already dealing with so much. I’m sorry.”

  Apparently he wasn’t as interested as I thought. “I’m glad you told me. Don’t be sorry.”

  He lets go of my hand and smiles. “Okay. Now, let’s finish eating.”

  I follow him, the pizza not near as appealing as his kiss.

  “I know you’re mad at me, but you don’t have to disappear. I almost called the police.”

  Pushing the front door shut I walk toward the stairs and face Valentine. “Why, so you can have more fodder for another book? And it would put me back in the news again, wouldn’t it. Just what you want.”

  My nerves and feelings are already crazy because of Levi. I really wasn’t expecting to have to deal with my sister when I got home. I thought she’d be sacked out by now.

  She walks over to the stairs. “Summer. I wasn’t trying to hurt you. I promise.”

  “You promise? Where does that come from? Look, Valentine, we spent all afternoon discussing this. I can’t go over it again. I’m going to bed.”

  Planting one foot on the bottom step I start my ascent.

  “Where have you been?”

  Actually, her tone isn’t accusatory. Her voice is gentle, like she might have been concerned when she couldn’t find me. But I can’t tell her about Levi. I want him all to myself. “Out. Clearing my head.”

  There. That should satisfy her.

  “Who’s the guy?”

  Both of my feet are now on the second step and they root to the carpet. How can she possibly know about Levi? She doesn’t have a car. She certainly wouldn’t have gone out and walked in the dark.

  I’m convinced she’s just fishing, so I feel pretty confident as I ask, “What guy?”

  “They guy you’ve been with. He’s got great smelling cologne, and you’re reeking with the scent.”

  She plants her foot on the bottom step and sniffs at my shirt. “Waverly For Men, is my guess. He must be a man with great taste. And some money to burn. Waverly is expensive.”

  Without thinking, I put my sleeve to my nose.

  “Busted for sure,” she says. “Tell me about him. Is he cute?”

  The word cute can’t begin to encompass Levi. Cute is for puppies, or cupcakes decorated for a birthday party.

  Levi may not be built like a stunt man, or have muscles like a trained dancer. But he’s so much more. I can’t begin to describe him. I walk up the stairs into my bedroom well aware of Valentine right behind me.

  “Oh, good.” She lands on the bed and grabs one of my pillows. “Girl talk. Like the old days.”

  I have to admit something. I am extremely put out at her lack of consideration for my animosity towards her. She doesn’t seem to care. Like having a conversation about a guy erases the damage that will result when her book releases. Can’t she see where I’m coming from?

  For even a minute? “Valentine, there will be no girl talk. I’m tired, mentally exhausted and worn out. So go on back to your own room.”

  She hugs the pillow close to her chest. (Or is it my chest since I paid for it?) “Mr. Waverly must be quite demanding.”

  The red haze of anger clouds my brain. “Just stop, okay? Take your dirty mind and get out of here. Why is it so impossible to believe I have a friend? A guy who’s just a friend.”

  “Maybe because you’ve never had a guy friend before. Unless they were gay.”

  I rub my temples and close my eyes hoping she will be gone when I open them.

  She’s not.

  “Well,” I speak with a very calm voice, “I have a friend. He’s just a friend, and he’s a guy. So if you will please leave now, I will go to bed and get some rest. I have a realtor coming in the morning.”

  Valentine squishes my pillow down as she stands. “Why is a realtor coming here?”

  “Because I want to buy this house. Is that okay with you?”

  I know I sound snippy. I can’t help it. My room that I’ve loved since I’ve been here with its springy light décor has become stifled and stuffy with Valentine and her attitude.

  And the non-kiss with Levi has left me restless.

  “Ugh. You are losing it. And Mr. Waverly has to be more than a friend if you’re thinking of living here. I guess you really think I’m stupid.”

  What I want to do is throw the pillow at her face to wipe the smirk off of it. But I don’t. “My friend doesn’t even live here. He’s visiting a friend. So my wanting to buy this house has nothing to do with Levi.”

  My hand flies over my mouth as I realize my error. I’m way too tired.

  “Oh, so Mr. Waverly’s name is Levi. That’s a different kind of name. So tell me Summer, what’s so special about Levi other than he obviously has money and he smells great?”

  “I’m not answering any questions about him. I’m going to bed.”

  I walk to the door and hold it. I don’t think I can make my wishes any clearer.

  “Okay, I’m going, Ms. Mysterious. Buying this little house, hanging with a guy named Levi. I don’t even know you anymore, Sis.”

  Valentine sashays her way to the door.

  “All I want is to have a normal life and be a normal person,” I say.

  Then I shut the door at the sight of her astonished expression.

  Chapter Nine

  “You are not a normal person,” Coleman s
houts through the phone. “You are Summer Sinclair. The name in pop music. The name in dance club songs and videos that change the face of videos. You’re sexy, you’re hot. You’re the exact opposite of normal.”

  I hold the phone away from my ear for a moment letting his rant go out into the airwaves unheard. I guess I’ve played into his drama for all these years, but now it does nothing but grate on my nerves. All I did was tell him I wanted to feel like a normal person.

  “Summer, are you there?” he asks.

  “I’m here.”

  “Say it out loud. I’m not normal. I don’t want to be normal. I will never be normal.”

  “Puhleezze,” I groan.

  “Say it.”

  “No. Haven’t you been listening to me for the past nine months? I’m tired of being Summer Sinclair. I just want to be with Sam.”

  “Look, I didn’t call to hear your fantasies. I left you with instructions to work on your CD. How’s it coming?”

  Visions of Frisbee’s, pizza and Levi come into my mind. “Fine.”

  “It better be more than fine. Feline is counting on you to bring in big bucks with this comeback CD.”

  “I’m not coming back. In fact, the realtor that helped me lease this house is coming by today. The owners may be interested in selling.”

  I brace myself for his outburst.

  “Summer.” His voice is surprisingly quiet. “This is no time to play jokes with me. I’m stressed beyond your little mind’s comprehension. Okay? So, I suggest you jump fast out of fantasy land into reality land and get busy.”

  “Your reality and my reality aren’t the same anymore, Coleman.”

  “They better be until you fulfill this contract. Until this CD is done I don’t want to hear any talk of being a normal person or buying a house in Nowheresville, Georgia. Got it?”

  If two simple words will appease him and maybe get me off this phone, I’m there. “Got it.”

  “Speaking of Nowheresville, I gave Meghan Cascade directions. She’ll be there Wednesday with her crew to do the interview. You need to color your hair and make sure you have something Summer-like to wear. Got to keep your image intact.”

  I hear a click. He’s gone.

  Coward.

  I can’t believe how stressful dealing with him is. Is this why I numbed myself? I have a good mind not to be here Wednesday. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve ditched a scheduled interview. This is insane.

  I busy myself with making a pot of coffee. Just as it finishes there is a knock on the door. I glance at the clock. Cindy’s right on time. I practically run to the door and fling it open. “Hi. Come on in.”

  “Hi, Summer.”

  Cindy, armed with her tell-tale notebook and elastic band she wears on her wrist which always jingles with the sound of keys, steps into the house.

  “Come in the kitchen. I just made some coffee.” Maybe our voices won’t carry so much in here, and Valentine will stay asleep.

  “It smells good. Sure.”

  Moments later we are sitting at the kitchen table, steaming mugs of dark roast in front of us. Cindy has also readied herself with her pen.

  “Great coffee. Thanks for having it ready.”

  “No problem.” I wrap my fingers around the warmth of the cup. She doesn’t look up right away. When she does, her gaze refuses to connect with mine.

  Memories of Levi’s dark brown eyes swim before me. I blink them away.

  “I’ve met with the owners of the house, and they’re not willing to sell.”

  My coffee doesn’t taste so good anymore. The sunshine isn’t as bright as it was a minute ago. “Oh.”

  “They weren’t expecting this type of offer. They’ve owned the cabin a long time, and even though they’ve been renting it out for years, they say it has memories they couldn’t possibly let go.”

  Memories linger forever. Wasn’t I just thinking that yesterday?

  But what kind of memories are they making by renting it? Certainly money will talk. “I could pay them a lot.” There are some advantages to being a pop-princess.

  “Sometimes sentimental value has no price tag.”

  “I guess.” I’m not used to being told no. I could buy any multi-million dollar home in any country. All I want is this little cabin. It doesn’t seem fair.

  “Give them time. They were expecting me to hand over a lease for them to sign. When I offered them a contract for a sale, like I said, they weren’t quite prepared. Their kids are in their forties, fifties. They haven’t been here in years. So I’m going to check back with them. There are other places around here for sale, though. Would you like to look at them?”

  She doesn’t understand why I want this cabin. I don’t want just any mountain getaway. I want the place where I started my new life. I want to build my own memories. My own sentimental value. “No. I’m only interested in this place.”

  “You know, you can keep leasing it.”

  The thought had crossed my mind, but didn’t dampen my desire. To keep leasing would be like saying I’m still temporary. I want this new life permanently. I want this house. “So you don’t think they can be persuaded to sell?”

  “I don’t think it would do any good to make another offer right now. I drew up another lease. I’ll leave it with you.”

  “At least some people have some sense.”

  Cindy and I both turn to the entrance of the kitchen. There stands Valentine in a pair of very skimpy pajamas. There really is little left to the imagination.

  “Excuse me?” Cindy says.

  “I’m just saying. I’m glad those people don’t want to sell. Summer needs to be back in California. Pronto. Point me to the coffee cups.”

  My face flushes. “Cindy, this is my sister, Valentine. She’s visiting for a couple of days.”

  “Hello, Valentine.”

  I quickly grab a coffee cup for my sister. I then pour the coffee into the cup.

  “Sugar and some flavored creamer, please.”

  “Here.” I hand her a bowl with sugar in it. “And you’ll have to use milk. That’s all I have.”

  “Bummer.” She proceeds to put four heaping teaspoons of sugar into the steaming mug.

  “You filled it too full,” she complains as she pours some milk in. “This is going to be bitter. I can tell.”

  “I’m sorry. Now could you please excuse us? Cindy and I have some business to discuss.”

  Valentine blows at the top of the cup. Like she might actually drink some. “Sounds like there’s no business to talk about. Hey, Cindy, do you know a guy named Levi?”

  “Valentine! Leave.” I point my finger toward the doorway.

  “It doesn’t hurt to ask since you won’t share any scoop on him.”

  “Valentine, please leave us alone.”

  Cindy’s looking through her file folder. Probably just pretending to be busy while Valentine and I exchange words.

  “Nice to meet you.” With a swing of her hips Valentine leaves the kitchen.

  “You too?”

  Cindy’s tone indicates she’s not real sure it was a pleasure. I don’t remove my gaze from her until she disappears up the stairs.

  “I’m sorry, Cindy.” I sit back down at the table.

  “That’s okay. She’s pretty young?” she asks.

  “Twenty-six. Old enough to know better.”

  “It takes some people longer to grow up, you know. Here’s the lease. I’ll leave it with you so you can look it over. It’s exactly like the one last year.”

  “All right,” I say as she slides the folder containing the lease to me. Another contract.

  Once again, not the contract I was hoping for.

  Cindy gathers her files and purse. “I’ll let you know if the owners change their minds. Otherwise, I’ll call you within the week, and we’ll arrange a time I can pick up the lease after you’ve signed it.”

  I walk Cindy out. The sunshine causes me to squint. “Thanks again for all your help.”

 
; “Sure. It’s not a problem.”

  She grips the rail as she makes her way down the porch stairs. When she reaches the bottom she turns.

  “I’ll be praying for this situation.” She pushes her sunglasses on.

  A whispered “thanks” comes out, but Cindy is already walking to her car.

  Sometimes, like now, it’s really hard to wrap my head around the niceness of people. How genuine and caring they can be. My world in LA is filled with users and takers and everyone looking out for themselves first. And as evidenced by my sister, this includes my family.

  And here is a virtual stranger. I really know nothing about Cindy, who tells me she is going to pray for me because I want to buy a house. And I don’t sense her commission as the reason for her prayer.

  It’s who she is.

  And Levi is who he is. A genuine guy who seems to care about me. The real me, not the me who can give him something or do something for him or introduce him to the right person.

  Levi doesn’t want anything I have. He doesn’t seem to hold anything against me either. But will that still be true after he reads the book?

  Will he read the book?

  The need to prove who I am now becomes overwhelming.

  I jaunt down the porch steps. With determination I head to the back of the house. Stepping onto the patio, I sit on the glider. With a quick glance through the sliding glass doors, I make sure Valentine hasn’t traipsed back down into the kitchen.

  Then I pull the legal pad out. I really didn’t think I’d ever show this to anyone. But now it’s become my proof of sorts.

  My defense?

  I’m not sure, but I do know one thing.

  I have to prove to Levi that I’m not the woman he’ll read about in Valentine’s book.

  “I showed you mine, now you show me yours.”

  I glance at Levi. His innuendo isn’t lost on me. Again, he brings laughter to my heart.

  Valentine had the music blaring so loudly upstairs I had no trouble making my way out of the house without her knowing. Once again I left her a note. I’m sure she’s bored, and she’ll probably have something to say when I return home, but that’s okay. I can deal with her.

  And honestly, I don’t really want to spend time with her. Every time I look at her face, the cover of the book pops into my mind. The cover has pictures of me across the top and the bottom and the body is made up to look like a diary. Like if you flip the pages you’ll read my innermost thoughts and secrets.