Summer's Song

by Lindi Peterson

  Levi quickly looks at me, then back at Valentine.

  “Levi, I’d like you to meet my sister, Valentine.”

  Levi puts his car in park in front of my house.

  “Thanks for the ride.” Valentine opens the back seat car door. “It saves me some cash not having to take a taxi back home. Unless you want me to pay you, Levi.”

  She shuts her car door at the same time Levi shuts his. I know better than to get out of the car by myself.

  “Oh, oh, my! What a gentleman.” Valentine juts one turquoise foot forward as Levi opens my door. “No wonder you’re never home. Levi isn’t just gorgeous to look at, he’s the total package.”

  You know the old saying ‘if the earth could swallow me up, right now?’ Well, I’m not thinking the phrase regarding myself. What I’m thinking is ‘if the earth could swallow Valentine up.’ Now that would be to my benefit.

  But of course the ground stays just like it is. Valentine doesn’t seem to be in a hurry to get into the house. It’s more like she isn’t in a hurry to leave Levi and me alone.

  “So, I’ll be back at six,” Levi says as he glances at his watch. “Which is only in an hour and a half. But we have work to do. And your car is at my house, remember?”

  “Six it is. See you then. And thanks for giving me a break.”

  “Enjoy it. You’re going to be working hard tonight.”

  He smiles one of his fabulous smiles before retreating to his car.

  “Bye, again, Levi!” Valentine shouts.

  Shaking my head, I start walking toward the house, Valentine right behind me. She had made some purchases in town, and the bags are jostling against her legs.

  “Why didn’t you tell me how hot he was? Is! Whatever. He’s gorgeous. No wonder you want to buy a house here.”

  My keys jingle as I unlock the front door. “Levi doesn’t live here. I think I’ve told you that already. He’s just visiting a friend for a couple of weeks.”

  I don’t want to talk about Levi with Valentine. It’s almost like she’s going to spoil what we have. Even though I’m not exactly sure what we have, I don’t want it tarnished with lewd comments.

  Valentine plops herself on the couch. “I want to know everything. How did you meet him? What are you working on? And are you really working? I’d totally be doing something else with him. Forget work!”

  “How can you expect me to tell you anything? For all I know, you already have a second book contract. I’m going to go rest for a little while.”

  I start walking up the stairs.

  “I don’t have another book contract. I promise.”

  Her voice sounds a little desperate. I’m not sure if she’s sorry about the first one or sad because she doesn’t have a second one. Either way, I’m not telling her anything.

  I have a lot to do in the next hour and a half. I have to decide if I’m going to be fudge or cardboard.

  Levi, Valentine and I pull up to the Marriott Marquis in downtown Atlanta. We’re in Levi’s car, I’m wearing my ball cap and sunglass disguise, and Valentine is totally thrilled she didn’t have to call a taxi.

  Rather, she’s probably thrilled she didn’t have to pay the bill.

  “Thanks, again. Really. I mean it. This was great,” Valentine says. She leans over the back seat, kisses me on the cheek then squeezes Levi’s shoulder.

  “No problem.”

  Levi speaks like the almost three hour drive isn’t a problem.

  Or maybe I’m looking for excuses to be uncomfortable. I haven’t been out of Lawson’s Ledge for almost a year now. This drive into Atlanta has made me realize just how comfortable I am there. It makes me realize also how much I don’t miss the city.

  I really don’t.

  Of course, Atlanta isn’t a familiar city to me. Not like Los Angeles where I know every street, every shop, every restaurant.

  “Bye!”

  After her bubbly farewell, Valentine shuts the door. She then saunters off with a bell hop right behind her.

  “Thank goodness she’s gone.” I lean my head against the head rest.

  Levi puts the car in drive. “She’s not that bad. Really, things with her could be worse. Do you like Tater Tots?”

  I sit up straight. “Things are bad enough regarding Valentine, and I don’t know if I like Tater Tots. Why?”

  He looks at me as if I’ve grown two heads. “You live a sheltered life, my friend. We’re going to eat Tater Tots.”

  A horn honks as we pull out onto the street.

  “Calm down, Dude. I didn’t cut you off that bad.”

  I’m glad Levi is driving on these streets. It doesn’t take us long before we’re out of the true downtown area and are on a street that’s more suburbia-like. “Oh, look. That looks like a really cool place? The Junkman’s Daughter?”

  “I think Skeet said it’s a consignment shop. It’s pretty well-known in the Atlanta area. Here we are.”

  Levi pulls into a parking lot. There’s a gray building on our left, and the entrance is a skull. Literally a huge skull. You walk through its mouth to get inside.

  “And I can say I’ve never seen anything like that before.”

  “Well, that’s where we’re eating. The Vortex. Known for great food including their fabulous Tater Tots.”

  We park next to the building. I flip down the visor. Tugging on my cap, I make sure it’s pulled tight on my head. I slide my sunglasses on. I’ll have to remember to give the cap an extra tug when I take the sunglasses off inside. In my opinion, wearing sunglasses inside a building draws more attention than I want.

  Levi opens my door. He does the pinky-hold thing as we walk to the skull. I mean door.

  The place is packed. We turn sideways to make our way to the podium where you turn over your name in exchange for a time-frame.

  “Twenty minutes, Mr. Preston. Thank you.”

  Levi draws attention because of his good looks. With a shaky hand, I pull my sunglasses off and shove them in my purse. The conversation around us is loud. We really don’t talk as we wait.

  Almost twenty minutes to the minute we are seated. After a brief conversation Levi orders us cheeseburgers and Tater Tots.

  “Are you okay?” he asks.

  “I’m fine. Why?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe it’s because you’re sitting with your shoulders scrunched up and your head down. I bet those hands of yours are clenched tightly together in your lap. Relax.”

  I search my memory banks of how to relax in a crowd of people when I don’t have bodyguards surrounding me. I don’t remember the last time I’ve been out in public like this. Lawson’s Ledge is a totally different package. This is Atlanta. “Easier said than done. You have to understand, Levi. I don’t get to do things like this. Ever.”

  Levi shifts in his seat. “Well, you’re doing it now. And just remember, I’m the great escape artist. I can get you out of here in no time flat if need be.”

  I know his thoughts are reverting back to his younger days. Days when living on the run was his way of life. He’s moved past those days. Now here I am bringing them all up again. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Now try to relax, and enjoy yourself.”

  I take a deep breath. My hands, which are clenched together in my lap, loosen their grip. “I must say it is kind of fun. And the food smells great.”

  “It’s excellent. I eat here every time I come to the ATL.”

  The waitress scoots between us and places my plate down, then Levi’s. My eyes take in the food. Fabulous, glorious junk food. I can’t help myself and pop a Tater Tot in my mouth.

  Hot pieces of potato burn the roof of my mouth. “Oh, hot.”

  “Yes. The food is hot, just like the pizza. Haven’t you ever eaten hot food before?”

  I slowly chew what’s left in my mouth before drinking some water. “I have.”

  Before I was probably so stoned I didn’t realize I was burning my mouth.

  “Let’s say a blessing,”
Levi offers.

  My gaze shoots around the room. People are laughing, beer bottles grace more than one table. Does Levi always pray in restaurants? I look at him. He’s already lowered his head. I do the same.

  His prayer isn’t whispered, but it’s still barely audible over the conversation buzz. We both say amen after he finishes.

  “Dig in,” he says. “But be careful. The food is hot.”

  I don’t have to look to know that he’s smiling. I can tell by the lift in his voice. The way his words flow.

  As I eat my delicious oh-so-good food I can’t help but notice the guy at the table next to us. He keeps staring at me. My insides are becoming a little nervous. Like he actually might recognize me. My gaze never really connects with his in hopes he doesn’t make his own connections.

  I then notice, in relief, that he and his friend are paying their bill. I try to concentrate on my food, but realize it will be hard to do until he actually leaves. I hope he and his friend aren’t the lingering type. I really would like to enjoy this meal.

  I pop a couple more Tater Tots in my mouth. The scraping of chairs indicates someone is leaving. I look, and they are indeed leaving. But my heart doesn’t get to enjoy the relief very long. As they start to walk toward the exit, the guy that kept staring at me stops at our table.

  My hands start shaking, and I shove them into my lap. If somebody recognizes me this could turn bad.

  Really quick.

  “Hi. I’m Don, and I just had to come and tell you that when you first took your sunglasses off, I thought you were Summer Sinclair. Has anyone ever told you that you look like her?”

  I lower my gaze and shake my head. “No.”

  “Man, I can’t believe I’m the first. But then when you guys started praying I knew right then you weren’t her. Can you see her sitting in a restaurant praying? The place would probably burn down. You know, ’cause lightning would definitely strike. That old saying. Anyway, just thought you’d get a kick out of that.”

  “That’s a kick, Dude. Now exit.” Levi’s puts his elbows on the table then nods his head toward the door.

  “Later.” Don backs up a step. He and his buddy walk away.

  “Much later.” Levi relaxes and picks up his cheeseburger.

  My appetite for the yummy cheeseburger and crispy Tater Tots vanishes. I just want to leave. Levi doesn’t even have to read Valentine’s book to get a glimpse of the real me. All he needs to do is be around me for a while. In public.

  “Can we go?” I ask.

  “Don’t let that guy’s talk bother you.” Levi takes another bite of his cheeseburger.

  “Levi, can’t you see? I’ll never be anything other than how people see me. And I’ve let them see a lot of me over the years, you know?”

  Ice jingles as Levi plays with the straw in his cup. “There will always be nay-sayers, people who will never believe you are different. But I promise you, there will be people who see how you’ve changed when they see how you carry yourself. How you act. When you’re absent from the media because there’s nothing they’d like to cover. Time will tell the true story.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You can’t let every negative comment bring you down. I want to see the real you. The lady whose heart has changed. The lady who knows who she is and can direct her own life. And I’m staring at her right now.”

  Can I do this? Can I present who I really am to the unforgiving world?

  Levi thinks I can.

  I hope he’s right.

  “Are you sure I look okay?” Standing in my bedroom I slowly turn.

  Meghan Cascade’s hair and make-up girl, Trudy, nods her head. “You look fabulous, and you know it.”

  I’m wearing the dress and shoes I bought at Rachael’s. “Just like the Summer Sinclair everybody knows, huh?”

  “No. Better. I like you in real clothing. But then again, I’m probably not the best person to ask. They call me the set prude.”

  With a tilt of her head, she walks away. Okay, so I guess I do look different. I hope it’s a good look.

  “We’ve got everything set up for shots in the kitchen, living room and the back patio,” Paul Littman, the producer, says as he walks up to me. “I think Meghan will be pleased with this. I just received word she’ll be arriving within fifteen minutes. Let me know when you’re ready to go into wardrobe.”

  I take a step back. “I’m through with wardrobe and hair. This is it.” I smile and twirl around once. “Okay? I’m good?”

  “Not what I think Meghan is expecting. We’ll talk to her when she gets here.”

  Paul quickly walks away, shaking his head, muttering something into the microphone he wears.

  Too bad. I’m not changing.

  Clothes, that is.

  Paul’s expression haunts me as I glance down at my dress. I look fine. I just don’t look the way they expect me to look. I actually have somewhat of a sleeve and no cleavage.

  Can I do this? Can I present myself in this manner? Or will their strange looks and muttered comments undermine what fragile resolve I have?

  I need Levi. I need his reassurance, his ‘it’s gonna be okay’ attitude. His strength. I had asked him to come, but his “no way!” came out so quickly I started laughing. He told me he would be praying, which I think was supposed to make me feel better, but I would feel better if he were here.

  You have your own strength.

  Skeet and Levi keep telling me things like this. I’m not sure I believe them.

  A flutter of activity greets me as I come down the stairs.

  “Meghan’s here,” a deep voice booms from somewhere in the kitchen.

  Paul opens the front door, and in walks Meghan Cascade. Talk about a trillionaire. She’s the trillionaire, not me.

  “Summer!” Meghan’s greeting can be heard over all the bustle. She makes her way towards me, impeccably dressed in a coral-colored designer suit. Her deep brown hair is molded around her pretty face. Her lips and shoes are one shade darker than her suit.

  “Hi, Meghan.” We hug in a way that suggests we don’t mean it.

  She breaks our fake embrace and takes two steps back, not letting go of my arms. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m early. I thought you’d be through hair and wardrobe by now. But it’s not a problem. I know my team can work quickly.”

  Paul gives me an I-told-you-so look as he stands behind Meghan.

  Standing tall, refusing to reflect how scared I feel, I speak in what I hope is a clear voice. “I’m ready.”

  Yeah. Two words. What happened to that paragraph that ran through my head about how this is me, this is Summer Sinclair, and if you don’t like it I’m sorry, but you’re the one who insisted on this “Comeback” interview. Sorry if I’m not coming back the way you want me to.

  “Well, sure. But your outfit is so … demure? UnSummer-like?”

  Paul’s chuckle doesn’t escape me. Neither do a few of the other crew members who happen to be standing around, waiting for some apparent show-down I’m now aware is on the agenda.

  “I bought this dress here in Lawson’s Ledge at a great boutique. I thought I might give her a plug.” My cop-out sends an unsettling signal to my conscience.

  Meghan’s expression changes from iffy into a huge smile. “Oh, I see. Helping out the little people. Well, how generous of you, Summer. Let’s get started then.”

  Speechless, I watch her start to walk away. She turns and says, “But after you give her the plug, you could always change. Let Paul know if you want to set that up. Come on, guys, let’s get this going. I have to be on a plane sooner than you think.”

  “No change.” I walk past Paul, following Meghan to the kitchen where we are apparently starting the interview.

  No change regarding the wardrobe, but get ready Meghan Cascade viewers. You are getting ready to witness the biggest change in the pop-music land.

  “First I just have to comment on your shoes. Very cute. Where did you get them?”

  C
lever, I think. Starting out right away with a jab. The viewers may not know it’s a jab, but Meghan knows it is, I know it is, and the crew standing here knows it is.

  She has now set the tone for the interview. Coleman couldn’t have known she was going to act this way. I think my outfit energized her agenda. Her fake smile, hug and concern are what I used to thrive on.

  She’s cardboard.

  And I don’t want to be.

  Briefly closing my eyes, I picture Levi. I want to be fudge.

  I kind of shove my foot toward the camera. “Thank you. I actually bought them right here in Lawson’s Ledge. There’s a quaint shop downtown called The Boutique. They have the latest fashions and everything cute.”

  “All right, enough time spent on the plug. By the time this interview airs, you’ll be back in California. What, if anything, will you miss about this little town you’ve been living in for the last few months?”

  Skeet. Levi. Sanity.

  “There will be a lot of aspects I’ll miss. I love how quiet it is. There’s a peace here I’ve found. And there’s a fudge shop in town, Frank’s, that I’ll probably have to set up a regular shipping schedule with.”

  Meghan doesn’t even laugh. In fact, she barely smiles. Amazing.

  “Fudge, huh? I guess you’re young, and you don’t have to worry about what you eat. Yet. Wait a few years.”

  I smile. What else does she want me to do? Comment? Not on her figure, not on your life.

  “So, Summer. It’s down to business time. What happened? What caused your retreat? Tell the viewers the real story.”

  My legs are crossed, and I place my hand on my knee and cover it with the other hand. My dress is long enough so I don’t have to worry about any oops! moments. I try to calm my over-anxious heart so my words are strong and clear when I speak.

  I look at Meghan before I start. Her eyes are evil. Really. That’s the only way I can explain her dark eyes with their lifted lids piercing toward me. They are setting me up, wanting nothing good from me. I can tell she wants a dramatic scenario, and anything less is not going to satisfy her.

  “Basically it came down to I didn’t know who I was, what I was working for, where I needed to be in terms of my life and career and being a mom. There was no way to sort through my life living and working in the midst of all the chaos, so I chose this place, because my mother was raised here. I took a few months off to get back on the right track.”