by Cindi Madsen
“How ‘bout I take us all out to a nice Sunday brunch, then?”
“As long as you’re not cooking, I’m down for whatever.”
Dad mocked hurt. “Hey.”
“I love you and all, but man, you’re an awful cook.” She gave him a consoling pat on the shoulder and then jerked her thumb toward the stairs. “I left my phone in my car. I’m gonna go check the messages, and then I’ll come back in and get ready.”
The awful churning in her stomach got worse as Summer headed downstairs. It’d bothered her ever since Gabriella showed up, but this was different—a twisting torture she felt nothing would fix except figuring out a way for Ashlyn and Pamela to get past their issues.
Chilly morning air greeted her as she opened the door. Whoa, I need a jacket before facing that. Her blue hooded sweatshirt sat crumpled in a ball next to the door. It was something Mom would’ve hated but Dad never commented on. In fact, his jacket was there, as well.
Summer tugged the hoodie over her head and zipped it up. Armed for the chill, she opened the door and crossed the lawn. She came around the driver’s side of her car and stopped dead in her tracks. The front tire was completely flat. “Ugh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”
Not wanting to deal with it right now, she reached inside her car and grabbed her phone. There was a missed call from Troy—curious—and a text from Ashlyn.
Had a good time. Tell you all about it tomorrow.
It was a little early yet, so Summer figured she’d wait to text Ash back. She closed her door and squatted to examine her tire. She was running her hand over the rubber when she heard Tiffany’s car pull up. Without at least a shower first, she wasn’t near cheery enough to greet her, so she stayed down, waiting for her to go inside.
“Need some help, Sunshine?”
She jumped, the motion nearly toppling her backward onto her butt. “Holy crap, you scared me,” she said, trying to get her racing pulse back under control. She slowly stood to face him. Then, remembering her ragged appearance, she ran a hand down her hair.
“Sorry,” Troy said. “I thought you heard me.”
“I thought you were Tiffany.”
“I get that a lot,” Troy said, flashing her that killer smile of his.
It was bad enough that things with him had gone downhill. Even more frustrating that his smile still sent butterflies swirling through her stomach. But did she have to look like a complete mess when he came over, too? “What are you doing at my house so early? It’s the weekend. You’re supposed to be in bed.”
“That means you are, too.”
“I went to bed early last night. Yeah, my Saturday night was that exciting.”
Troy leaned against her car, crossing one ankle over the other. “I tried to call you.”
“I left my phone in my car last night. I was expecting a call from Ashlyn, so I came out to get it, and then I saw my tire was flat.”
Troy held out his hand. “Give me your keys. I’ll help you change it.”
The keys clanged together as she handed them over. “Careful. I’d hate for you to accidentally spray yourself in the face with my mace.”
“Somehow, I doubt that. You’d probably find it amusing.”
It was impossible not to smile at that. “Maybe a little.” Summer followed him to the trunk, trying to not think about how horrible she looked. I bet none of his other girlfriends ever look like this. Of course, I’m just his friend.
Troy popped the trunk, uncovered the spare, and handed her the jack.
“So, why’d you call, anyway?” Summer asked.
Troy heaved the tire out of the trunk, the muscles in his arms flexing with the effort. “I wanted you to see a show.”
Summer followed him as he rolled the tire to the front of the car. “Some new obscure band?”
“Yep.” Troy set the tire down and held his hand out. “Jack, please.”
Summer handed it over. “What are they called? Maybe I’ll impress you with my knowledge of them.”
“I doubt it. Last night was their first show. They’re called Pieces of Flair.”
“Sounds cool. What do they play?”
Troy twisted the handle on the jack, lifting her car off the ground with each rotation. “A few covers, a few original.” He glanced up at her and said, “I hear the drummer’s cute, and I know that’s important to you.”
She tried to make out his expression, the way the corner of his mouth was twisted up. “Is that a jab at me? I’m not really sure what we’re talking about anymore.”
“It’s the band I’m in.”
“You’re in a band? I knew about the drums, I just—Oh, I get the drummer comment now.” Honestly, she’d always crushed on drummers. Lead singers, guitar players—they were all good—but there was something about a cute drummer.
“Kevin, Tiny, and I have been playing together for a while now. We had our first gig last night, and I wanted you to come down and hear us play.”
All the pieces clicked into place. The way Troy and Kevin paid so much attention to how bands set up at Equinox. Tiny calling him aside in the hall.
Troy went to work with the wrench, taking the lug nuts off the tire. “I wasn’t sure if we were still in a fight or not, though, so I called. Then when you didn’t answer, I decided to come on over and see how bad of fight we’re in.”
“Like I said, I fell asleep early, so I didn’t get your message. I told you yesterday that we were fine. That I wanted to be friends still.”
“Yeah, but your parting comment seemed more like a jab.”
Summer remembered the stupid girl with him, and annoyance welled up in her again. Unable to think of a way to explain herself, she decided to move on. “I’m not mad at you, I swear.” I’m just jealous. She crossed her arms, trying to warm herself up. “You care that much if we’re in a fight?”
“Of course I do. You’re one of my favorite people. I hardly saw you all summer, and it sucked. Even when we’re fighting, you at least keep it entertaining by giving me riddles to solve.” He shot her a smile. “I prefer the laughing and joking to the fighting, though.” He twisted off the last of the lug nuts and it clinked against the others as he set it down. “So, why can’t we seem to get along anymore?”
Summer shrugged. “Would you feel better if I said I’m going through a lot right now?”
Troy removed the flat tire. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
“It’s nothing, really. Just personal stuff.”
“So that’s a no. You were mad when I was hiding my stuff from you. That’s why I decided to let you in on my drumming obsession. I’m finally admitting it to people, all except my mom, of course. I know I can’t hide it from her forever, but I’m going to hide it for as long as I can.” He glanced over his shoulder at Summer. “Not that I think she’ll punish me; I’m just scared of hurting her.”
“I get that. And I’m glad you told me.” Of course thinking of that day made her remember how she’d thrown herself at him and how wrong everything had gone after that. Needing a distraction, she propped up the spare tire for him.
Troy lined it up and placed it on the car. Summer handed him two lug nuts, then started twisting on the others herself. After they were on, Troy tightened them with the lug wrench and used the jack to lower her car back to the ground.
He gathered all the tools and stood. “Well, your tire’s fixed.”
“Thanks.”
She followed him when he walked back to her trunk and put the tools back in her car. He closed the trunk and turned to face her. “You promise we’re good?”
“I promise.”
Troy tapped her nose. “Good.”
Tiffany’s BMW pulled up in the driveway. She climbed out and waved at them. “Hello, Summer and…?”
“Troy,” Summer filled in. “Troy, Tiffany.”
“Nice to meet you,” Troy said.
“You, too.” Tiffany squinted. “What’s all over your nose, Summer?”
Summer turned to Troy. “You put black on my nose?”
He held his index finger and thumb together. “Little bit.”
She gave him a playful shove before turning back to Tiffany. “Troy was helping me change my flat tire. You can go on in. The door’s open. Can you just tell my dad I’ll be in in a few?”
“I’d be happy to.” Tiffany smiled at them again—giving them the Aren’t they adorable? look—then headed inside.
Using her sleeve, Summer tried to rub the black off her nose. “As if I’m not enough of a mess. I still need to shower and get ready so I can go to brunch with Tiffany and my dad.”
“I’ll let you go then,” Troy said.
“You can come in and wash up if you want.”
He rubbed his hands on his pants. “I’m good. I’ll see you later, okay?”
“Okay.”
Troy started toward his Jeep.
“Hey, Mister Bond?”
He turned to face her.
“Let me know when Pieces of Flair gets another gig. I’d like to hear them play.” She paused before adding the last part, wondering if it was a bad idea, then going ahead and saying it anyway. “Especially if the drummer’s as cute as he’s rumored to be.”
Troy grinned, proving just how cute the drummer really was. “I’ll let you know.”
She watched him get into his Jeep and pull away. The fluttering in her chest almost eclipsed the horrible feeling in her stomach.
But the farther away he got, the sicker she felt.
* * *
Summer decided to see if food helped her stomach. She’d ordered the works—eggs, French toast, bacon, and hash browns—but she exchanged the hash browns for fries.
Her eyes wide, Tiffany watched Summer shove a handful of fries in her mouth. “I knew teenage boys ate like that, but I had no idea girls did, too.”
“I never had dinner last night,” Summer said, feeling like she needed an excuse to be eating so much.
“And she can eat me under the table on a normal day.” Dad grinned. “It makes me proud.”
“You sure know what to say to make a girl feel special.”
“That’s my job.” Dad looked from her to Tiffany. “So, hon, I was thinking you could tell Summer about how you got over fights with your sisters. More how you resolved them than the actual fights.”
Tiffany demurely wiped her mouth with a napkin and smiled at Summer. “Oh, we were always getting into heated arguments. One time my sister Tess and I had this fight over a boy…” Tiffany went into all the gory details, ending with how they decided the boy was a slacker who wasn’t worth fighting over.
It didn’t really help Summer. She hoped she never had to deal with a situation like that. The thought of doing this kind of job again—of ever having to repair another relationship—drained her.
“…and any time we got into fights my mom made us do dishes together,” Tiffany said, on to her next story. “That forced us in a room together, and by the time the last dish was put away, we had usually worked it out. Is any of this helping?”
Not really.
But then an idea hit Summer. She had a personal experience she could share. She knew what it was like to lose somebody. She just needed to apply that knowledge to Ashlyn and Pamela. In a roundabout way, Tiffany had actually helped.
“You’ve helped a lot, Tiffany. Thanks.” Summer turned to Dad. “Are we about ready to wrap this up? I want to get over to Ashlyn’s and see how her date was.” She exaggerated the next few words. “I think it would be very helpful to her.”
Understanding crossed Dad’s features, and he nodded. “I can’t eat another bite. I’ll get the check, and we’ll go.”
Summer whipped out her phone and sent a text to Ashlyn, asking if she could come over and hang out.
Her phone beeped within seconds.
Movie’s all queued up. Shirtless boys. Boxing. Bring your A game.
Summer certainly hoped this was her A game. This plan was more like her A-Z game. It better work because she had nothing else. Hope filled her, though, renewing her, making her feel like she could do this. This was going to work.
* * *
“Spill it,” Summer said the second she walked into Ashlyn’s room. “How was the date?”
Ashlyn’s face lit up. “He took me to eat at the Green Flash. At first it was a little awkward, but once we got talking, the conversation started flowing. We laughed, we talked. At the end of the night, he walked me to the door and gave me a kiss on the cheek.”
“Ooh, very gentlemanly.”
“Gentlemanly.” Ashlyn’s eyebrows drew together. “That word sounds very ungentlemanly. Is it even a real word?”
Summer shrugged “It’s probably not a word Matt would appreciate, so I won’t go spreading it around at school.”
“So what did you do?” Ashlyn asked. “I texted you when I got home, but when I didn’t get an answer, I figured you were busy.”
“I fell asleep—that’s how exciting my night was. I also left my phone in my car, and guess who showed up at my house when I went to get it? I was in my pajamas, no shower, no makeup—actually, strike that—I had smeary leftover makeup on. I looked absolutely awful.”
Ashlyn leaned in. “Who?”
“Troy! I mean, who just shows up at nine o’ clock on a Sunday morning?”
“A guy who’s so crazy about you that time doesn’t apply.”
Summer clicked her tongue. “Stop. I’m already messed up over the boy. I don’t need help in adding to my delusions that he actually likes me. Anyway, my tire was flat, so he helped me change it. And by help, I mean he did most of the work while I watched.”
“And that doesn’t convince you he likes you?”
“He’s just a nice guy.”
Ashlyn pressed her lips together. “Summer, you need to tell him how you feel.”
“I can’t.” Just the thought of telling him that she was crazy about him was enough to give her heart palpitations. “Besides, he should know.”
“He’s a guy. You have to tell them straight up.”
“Things are finally patched up between us, though. If I say something, I’ll just mess everything up again.” Summer grabbed her soda and took a large swig. “Let’s start this movie so I can think of something besides Troy.”
“Your wish is my command.” Ashlyn pressed play, then hit fast forward. “We’ll just watch the parts where they fight—Oh, here we go. Hot guys with no shirts.”
The two of them watched the guys sparring on screen. “See, when I move my feet like this,” Summer said in her best guy voice, “no one can hit me.”
Ashlyn took over for the more experienced fighter. “I’m the all-knowing mentor. I can hit you with my eyes closed. I sense when you need a punch in the face.”
The guy onscreen got hit in the nose, but kept advancing. “Hits don’t faze me.” Summer lifted her hands like she was boxing, too. “I’m a tough guy with a rugged past.”
Another hit. Blood poured from the cut over his eyebrow.
“Your past won’t mean much unless you remove the hate and fight for honor,” Ashlyn said. “Nothing is more powerful in a fight than honor.”
“Um, I’d just like to point out that doesn’t make any sense. Your fists are hurting me much more than your honor.” Summer couldn’t add anything else, because she started laughing too hard.
“Oh, now it’s boring talking with shirts on again. I’ll find us another fight scene.” Ashlyn picked up the remote and buzzed through a couple more scenes. They added their own special flare and dialogue until the credits ran up the screen.
Summer leaned back and put a hand on her stomach. “I think I got as much of a workout from laughing as any of those guys did boxing.”
“I’d like you to tell that to my mother,” Ashlyn said. “I’m curious to see where she ranks laughing on the workout scale.”
It was the perfect transition for Summer to say what she needed to say. “So, I know things with your mom are k
ind of tense sometimes—”
“Kind of. Phft. Talk about understatement.”
“Okay, really tense. But you’ve got to tell her how you feel. Tell her that her comments hurt you. Have a real conversation with her.”
“Not this again,” Ashlyn groaned. “Why are you always trying to talk to me about my mother?”
Things were flowing so easily now. “Because I know what it’s like to not have one. Do you know how many times I wish I could get one last day to spend with my mom? She always told me how much she loved me, but I didn’t say it enough to her. In fact, sometimes I thought it was exhausting how much she said it to me.”
Besides Troy, Summer hadn’t told anyone how her mom had died—the guilt and sorrow of even thinking about it was always too much. She blinked at the tears forming, fighting to keep her composure. “Ash, my mom walked into a convenience store, and some guy decided to rob it while she was inside. You know how much he got away with? A little over six-hundred dollars. That’s how much my mom’s life was worth to him. He shot her and another lady, then turned the gun on the cashier.”
Ashlyn reached out and squeezed Summer’s hand. “Did they catch the guy?”
“Finally. And as I sat through his trial, all I could think about was how he took my mom away from me. I just wanted one more day.” More tears welled up in her eyes. “But it would never be enough. I could keep asking for one more day for the rest of my life.” She lifted her gaze to Ashlyn’s. “Instead, we have to make the here and now count.”
Summer sniffed, a fabulous side effect of the tears. She moved into Ashlyn’s bathroom and grabbed a tissue. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to get so emotional on you.”
“It’s okay.”
“I’m going to go get a glass of water.” Summer walked across the room to Ashlyn’s bedroom door.
“I can get it,” Ashlyn said.
“I’ll be right back.” Summer walked down the hall and into the kitchen. She opened the cupboard and grabbed a glass.
Pamela walked in as Summer was filling it with water. “What’s wrong?” she asked, sounding genuinely concerned.
“I was talking to Ashlyn about my mom. She was shot during a convenience store robbery.”
