Summer's Promise

by Irene Brand

  Summer knew she was ill-suited to advise Anita. How would Spring have encouraged the girl? If she succeeded at this work, she had to think like her sister would have done.

  “I don’t know much about this, Anita, but I’m sure there are grants available so you can go to college. Are you a senior?”

  She nodded. “I’ll get my high school diploma next spring.”

  “Have your grades been good enough for you to attend college?”

  “Not bad,” Anita admitted, “but I could have done better. There just didn’t seem to be any reason to.”

  “There’s always an incentive to make good grades. Since you’re without parents, you’ll have to take the initiative in making your own living. An advanced education will help you do that. So how about studying real hard this winter, and I’ll look into grants that might pay your way through college.”

  “Okay,” Anita agreed, but not enthusiastically.

  Seeming to forget her own problems, Anita launched into a rundown of some of the other residents.

  “Skipper Johnson is another one who could be a good student, but he just doesn’t care. His mother is still living, and she comes to see him every month, but Skipper had gotten out of hand. He was running with the wrong crowd, and she brought him to The Crossroads.”

  They were on the outskirts of Asheville by this time, and Summer started looking for the furniture stores Edna had mentioned.

  “And then there’s Mayo Sinclair,” Anita continued. “His mother deserted him when he was a little boy. His father’s a musician and out on tour most of the time. Mayo was wandering around the streets of Nashville, living in a mission at night, and the director of the mission arranged for him to come to The Crossroads. He likes it here, knowing he’ll have three meals a day and a place to sleep. That guy can play almost any musical instrument—got the talent from his father, I reckon. There’s an old banged-up piano in the chapel, and Mayo can make it talk! But he’s not very good in books. Mr. Brown was just about to get through to these guys, so I don’t know what will happen to them now.” She favored Summer with a skeptical glance. “Do you think the other Mr. Brown will be any good?”

  “I’m sure he will,” Summer answered, “but you’ll have to give both of us time. This kind of work is new to us.”

  They tried several stores before finding furniture Summer could afford and that would be delivered to The Crossroads the next day. When they left the store, with her bank account badly depleted, and knowing there was little chance of having anything added to it, Summer reluctantly motioned to a nearby sandwich shop.

  “Want to have a hamburger and fries before we go back?”

  “I’d love it,” Anita said, her eyes dancing with anticipation. “I get tired of the food at The Crossroads.”

  David and the children arrived the next evening soon after school dismissed for the day, and he blew the horn of the large van he was driving to alert everyone to their arrival. Timmy and Nicole jumped out of the van and scampered to the playground to greet their friends. Edna came from the school building.

  “I’ve been praying for your safe arrival,” Edna said, clasping his hand firmly.

  “Is Summer at the cabin?”

  “Yes, but I see her coming now. She must have heard you arrive.”

  David turned to greet Summer, held out his right arm and she ran into his embrace. Her eyes were glowing with pleasure, and there wasn’t any doubt she was glad to see him. But why? Was she beginning to take a personal interest in him or was she just glad to see anyone she knew? He wanted to kiss her again, but he decided this wasn’t the time or the place. She nestled content against his firm body for a few glorious moments, then she shook her head and drew away.

  “Where are the kids?”

  He motioned toward the playground. “Working off a lot of excess energy, I hope. I stopped often for them to exercise, but they kept pushing to come home.” A tender expression brimmed his eyes as he smiled at her and took her hand. “As far as that goes, I was eager to get here, too.”

  Summer’s eyes shifted quickly from the tenderness in his gaze. “Isn’t that Daddy’s van?” she asked incredulously.

  “Not anymore. It’s ours now.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Look!” He pointed to the side of the van. Instead of the Weaver’s Belgian Horse Farm sign that had been there the last time she’d seen the van, there was a new placard—The Crossroads, Mountain Glen, North Carolina.

  Conscious of the crowd of students gathering around them, he released her hand reluctantly and said, “I’ll tell you about it later.”

  Several of the older boys were surveying the eight-passenger van, exclaiming over its sleek chestnut finish, specially painted to match the Belgian horses at the Weaver farm. The van was only three years old, and it was a beautiful vehicle.

  “Need any help, Mr. Brown?” Skipper asked.

  “I don’t believe so. I brought my things to The Crossroads before I left for Ohio, and the kids hadn’t taken much with them. I believe Summer and I can handle everything. Nicole,” he called, “will you and Timmy be all right while we unpack?”

  Nicole, too busy playing to respond, waved a hand.

  “I’ll look after the children,” Edna said.

  “We’ve been riding several hours today, so they do need some exercise.”

  “Have you gotten along all right with them?” Summer asked as David handed her a couple of backpacks, took two suitcases and turned toward the cabin path.

  “All right, I suppose,” he said, “but it bothers me that they wouldn’t talk about Spring and Bert. I’m worried about how they’ll adjust now that they’re at home without their parents.”

  “I’m scared, David.”

  “It’ll work out—don’t worry.”

  “What’s this about the van?”

  “Your mother sent you a letter. I’ll let you read it.”

  “Oh! Oh!”

  They stepped into the cabin with the luggage, and David glanced around. “You’ve gotten everything looking great, but it seems different somehow.”

  Summer pointed to the sofa and chair. “New furniture,” she said, and explained about the devastation she’d found in the cabin.

  “That must have been an eye-opener!”

  Summer nodded. “I was tempted to turn tail and run, and that isn’t the only time, either.”

  “I’ve felt the same way, but we’re both here, and we’ll handle this assignment one way or another.”

  He took an envelope from his pocket, written on the gray stationery bearing the Weaver coat of arms that Clara had used for years. “Here’s your letter.”

  “There’s some tea in the refrigerator,” Summer said, sitting on the new sofa. The message was short and she read it aloud.

  “Dear Summer,

  Regardless of their parents’ request, it is not your and David’s sole responsibility to take care of Nicole and Timothy. If you provide a stable home for them, the least we can do is help with the finances. I’m sure the school can use a van, and we’ll be sending a substantial check each month for you and David to use for whatever you need. Over their protests, we occasionally helped Bert and Spring with necessities, and we don’t expect any arguments from the two of you. What wealth we’ve accumulated will eventually pass to our children, and we can’t see any reason to hoard up everything until we die when you need help now. So, please, don’t be stubborn! We can’t anticipate your necessities, so we’re expecting you to let us know what you need.

  Lovingly,

  Mother and Daddy.”

  Summer’s lips trembled a little when she looked up at David. “What are we going to do?”

  He arched his eyebrows. “I brought the van, didn’t I? With a title made out in both our names.”

  “What’d you do with your car?”

  “I’d already traded it for a secondhand Jeep, so I gave that to your father.” He laughed. “It doesn’t compare favorably with his other vehi
cles so he’s probably gotten rid of it by now.”

  He sat beside her on the sofa. She tucked the sheet of paper into the envelope. “I argued with your parents about the van, and I agreed finally, but with a whole lot of misgiving. I’ve been independent for so long, it isn’t easy for me to be on the receiving end.”

  “I know! I didn’t realize how much I’m like Mother until she called it to my mind recently. It won’t be as difficult for me to take from my parents as it will be for you, but I wonder if it’s right for me to do so. I’ve gotten the notion that missionaries are supposed to sacrifice.”

  “As a child, I thought that missionaries were odd-balls, who dressed in cheap clothing, lived from hand to mouth and enjoyed poverty. But I learned differently when missionaries came to speak at our church. They dressed in fashionable clothes, drove cars and were ordinary people like the rest of us.”

  David’s arm encircled Summer’s shoulder, causing her heart to race, and she snuggled close to him. Her tenure at The Crossroads seemed so much simpler when David was around.

  “Edna’s example has caused me to wonder. She’s been here for years, and from what I’ve observed, she cares nothing for what goes on away from these schools. She believes God will provide whatever she needs.”

  “And He will,” David agreed. “I still have faith enough to believe that, but Edna doesn’t have the same needs we have.”

  Summer moved away from him and patted the sofa. “Before I bought this sofa and chair, I decided that God wouldn’t expect us to sit on ruined furniture. Perhaps I came up with that thought to excuse my own wants, for Edna made it plain that many people would be happy to have what I threw away. This change in my economic status has made me study my past lifestyle, and I don’t always like what I see.”

  “If you haven’t already prepared a meal for this evening, let’s eat at The Crossroads cafeteria.”

  “Suits me,” Summer said, “but I don’t want to make a habit of it. The children will eat at the school cafeteria at noon, I suppose, but they should have as ordinary a home life as possible. But another day’s reprieve from domestic work will suit me. I haven’t cooked for anyone except myself, and I don’t know what children like to eat. I did buy a cookbook before I left New York, so that may help.”

  “Let’s go and collect the kids and see if they’re ready for supper.”

  Biting her lip, Summer’s hand whitened as she gripped the doorknob. She’d never dreaded anything as much as she did this meeting with her niece and nephew.

  David sensed her uneasiness, and he gently pulled her into the circle of his arms. “Don’t be nervous,” he said. “It won’t be that bad. The kids are lovable, and so are you, so you’ll get along all right.”

  “The times I encountered them at the farm last month, I didn’t have much to say to them. They both preferred Autumn to me. I could tell.”

  David tenderly massaged the tense muscles in her neck and shoulders. “But that was before they knew you were going to be their new mother.”

  “Mother! Don’t even say the word! I doubt that I have any maternal instincts at all. Being a woman doesn’t automatically make one a mother. Never in my life have I envisioned myself as a mother.”

  “Summer, you’ve agreed to do this, so stop having all these doubts. In the past few weeks, I’ve been reading the Bible and praying for the kind of fellowship with God that I used to have. I found a verse in the book of Isaiah that speaks to our situation. ‘Strengthen the feeble hands, steady the knees that give way. Say to those with fearful hearts, Be strong, do not fear.’ Although we think we’re doing this for Bert and Spring, I believe we’ve undertaken this assignment for God, and if so, He’s going to see us through it.”

  “I’d never thought of it that way.”

  “Do you have a Bible?” She shook her head against his shoulder. “Get one of Spring’s Bibles and start reading it. The only way we can possibly succeed here is with God’s guidance.”

  He gave her another tight squeeze and released her. Cuffing her lightly on the shoulder, his eyes crinkled into a broad smile as he said, “Straighten your shoulders and remember you’re a Weaver.”

  Chapter Eight

  Timmy and Nicole sat on a bench in front of The Crossroads administration building with Edna between them. The kids smiled at David, but they ignored Summer.

  “We’ll eat in the cafeteria tonight,” David said.

  “Good idea,” Edna answered. “I’ll have Anita prepare extra trays. Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help you get settled in.”

  “Let’s go in the rest room and wash our hands before we eat,” Summer said, and her words were slurred because her mouth was so dry.

  “My hands ain’t dirty,” Timmy said sullenly.

  “Oh, yes, they are,” David said. “I’ll go with you.”

  “I can help you, Nicole,” Summer offered.

  “I don’t need help,” Nicole stated and flounced off the bench.

  A true Weaver, Summer thought, even though she had the brown hair and eyes and slender build of the Browns. Timmy had inherited Spring’s features—au-burn hair and ocean-blue eyes.

  When they came from the rest rooms, Timmy and Nicole hurried to sit with the students, who were glad to see them and made room for them at their tables. Edna stood near a table with seven adults, and she motioned for David and Summer to sit with them.

  “This is a good opportunity for you to meet the staff with whom you’ll be working.” She turned to the people at the table. “David Brown and Summer Weaver have been appointed to replace their siblings. They’ve committed to our school for a year.”

  Curious but welcoming eyes were turned in their direction by the staff members, all of whom were senior citizens. Summer remembered Edna’s comment that the teachers were volunteers. As Edna introduced the staff, Summer tried to associate the names and faces with their teaching responsibilities so she could remember them later.

  David talked easily while they ate, but Summer spoke only when someone directed a remark toward her. Neither Timmy nor Nicole seemed to like her. How could she bear it if they continued to act this way?

  Summer had hoped for David’s support, but when dinner was over, he said, “I’ll unpack some of my clothes and make my room livable. Everything is still in boxes and suitcases. If I finish in time, I may come over tonight. If not, I’ll stop by in the morning. I’ve tried to explain to the kids why we’re here, but I’m not sure they understand.”

  The Crossroads residents were busily clearing away the dinner trays and washing the tables, and Nicole and Timmy hovered near the door. Forcing a smile, Summer went to them and said, “It’s time for us to go home. You’re probably anxious to see your dinosaurs, Timmy.”

  He shook his head, but they went outside with her and turned toward the path, their feet dragging. Summer wondered what troubled thoughts must be going through their heads. How could she take away the hurt they must feel?

  “Did you enjoy the Belgian horses at Grandpa’s?” she asked.

  “I liked the fillies,” Timmy said. “Grandpa said he might give me one when I get bigger.”

  “That would be a nice gift,” Summer agreed. “Did you like the horses, too, Nicole?”

  “Not particularly,” she said in a grown-up manner. “I liked Aunt Autumn’s baby best. She let me hold Lannie lots of times.”

  “He’s got hair same color as mine,” Timmy said.

  When they came in sight of the cabin, Timmy and Nicole broke into a run, and Summer hurried to keep up with them. They raced up the steps, opened the door and stopped abruptly in the middle of the empty living room.

  “Mommy,” Timmy called, and he darted into the hallway. “You’re here, ain’t you? Mommy!” His blue eyes sparkled with tears when he ran back into the living area.

  Summer knelt beside him and tried to take him into her arms, but he jerked away from her. “I want my Mommy and Daddy.”

  “Don’t you remember the funerals at
the farm, Timmy? Your parents aren’t here anymore.”

  He shoved Summer, and she fell backward. Nicole ran to Timmy and took his hand.

  “I told you they wouldn’t be here, Timmy,” she said, in a patient voice. “They went back to Bolivia, but they’re coming back in a few months—maybe by Christmas.”

  “That isn’t true,” Summer said, earning her belligerent glances from both children.

  Nicole looked around the room. “Where’s our sofa and chair?” she demanded.

  Summer put a tentative hand on Nicole’s shoulder. “Squirrels broke into the cabin and chewed up the furniture. I had to replace them.”

  Timmy kicked the new chair. “I don’t like it,” he shouted. “That other chair is where Daddy and I watch television.” He started crying and bolted down the hallway to his room.

  “He wants to sit in the old chair,” Nicole said.

  Forcing a sickly smile, Summer answered, “Then he’ll have to go to the storage room. The squirrels ruined the chair. He can’t sit in it until it’s repaired. I thought you’d be pleased with new furniture.”

  “Well, we’re not! You’ve ruined our home.”

  Timmy came back into the room, carrying a blanket which he dropped on the floor, flipped on the television and laid down on the blanket. Nicole stepped in front of him and turned off the television.

  “Hey. Stop that!” Timmy yelled.

  “You know you’re not supposed to watch television until you’ve washed. Get up off the floor and go take a shower. You stink.”

  Nicole jerked the blanket from under him, wadded it into a ball and pitched it on the sofa.

  Timmy jumped up and started beating his sister on the back, and Summer watched in stunned silence. What was she supposed to do now?

  She tried to separate the two children, but Nicole was hitting back, and Summer got a punch in her side. She didn’t know that David had arrived until he shouted, “What’s going on?”