by Amy Vastine
Travis was impressed. He drank some iced tea and finished his lunch while the table continued to discuss the storms Summer had predicted. The weather girl was quite the legend in her own right. If he could learn from her, Travis might be able to pull this sportscasting thing off.
* * *
THE NEWSROOM WAS quieter today. Yesterday everyone had bombarded Travis with their memories of games they had watched him play over the years. One of the producers had been following Travis’s career since he was in Pee Wee. Today, people were still friendly, but not as in-his-face. There was only one face he wanted to get in front of, and she was already at her desk, on her computer.
“Good afternoon, Weather Girl.”
Her annoyance at that nickname was obvious. Her naturally pink cheeks flushed red and made him smile. She hated him and he loved it.
“Mr. Lockwood, good to see you were able to dry off after last night,” she quipped.
Travis’s laugh was deep. How he’d missed laughing for real and not for show. “I plan on telling Ken it’s entirely your fault if I catch a cold.”
“I don’t control the weather, I just predict it.” She turned her attention back to her monitor. Her soft-looking curls fell down like a curtain, shielding her face from him. He wanted to reach out and push them behind her ear so he could see those cheeks, those eyes. Her eyes really were amazing. They were big and blue like the Texas sky.
He sat on the edge of her desk. She flipped her hair off her shoulder and side-eyed him, saying nothing. He picked up the framed photo of a young couple and a curly-haired, little girl in front of something that looked like a souped-up tank. She snatched it out of his hands and set it back in its place. “Is there something you need? Maybe you’re looking to unload thirty seconds from your segment? Or are you just here to bother me?”
“I was the special guest at the Abilene Rotary Club’s luncheon today. They think you have magic powers. Said you’ve never been wrong about when it’s going to rain.” He left out the part where they wondered if she was a witch.
“No magic powers,” she said, trying to look disinterested.
“That’s what I said. I told them it was nothing but luck, and odds were you’d get it wrong one of these days.”
Summer stopped what she was doing and turned her whole body in his direction. “Did you, now?”
Finally, he had her full attention. He smiled. Most ladies loved the dimples, but they only seemed to fuel Summer’s fire. “I mean, if it’s not magic, what else could it be?”
“You were a football player before this, correct?”
He liked how she had to ask, as if she wasn’t completely sure. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Does that not require any intuition at all? Or do you just learn how to play and that’s it? Anybody with any athletic ability can do it?”
Again, she made him laugh. “Anyone can play. But to be good, you need to read more than a playbook.”
“Exactly,” she said with a smile and a wave of her hand. “I read more than the radar. I can’t explain how it works, I just feel it. I’m sure there are things you can’t teach someone about football. They just know it or they don’t.”
“Well, that’s probably true. My mom swears I was born wearing a helmet. I probably know more about football than I want to.” That was the truth. He had slept, eaten, drunk and breathed football his entire life. “Anytime you want to learn something about the game, I’d be happy to teach you.”
She froze, her pretty pink lips parted. He’d hit the nerve he was looking for. Football held about as much of her interest as watching paint dry held his. She turned forward and shook her head. “I don’t want to learn about football.”
“Maybe you could teach me about predicting the rain, then?” Travis knew all about defensive strategy. She could block his pass all afternoon, but he wasn’t going to stop trying for that touchdown.
She shook her head again. “You don’t want to hear about weather forecasting.”
“I do. I swear.”
“Go away, Mr. Lockwood.”
“You’re leaving me no choice,” he warned. “I’m gonna have to tell everyone at the Rotary Club it’s magic.”
Summer dropped her face into her hands and groaned in frustration. She was too much fun. It took so little to get her riled up. Sitting back up, she swiveled her chair in his direction and narrowed her eyes. “What do you want to know? That it dates back to 650 B.C.? Or how the Babylonians tried to make guesses based on things like cloud formations and other atmospheric phenomena?” He saw something in her eyes flicker. She truly lived for this stuff. “I mean, can you imagine? How accurate could they have been back then? If they did ever get it right, I think those people were simply more in tune with nature. Genetically, as a species, we—”
She stopped and snapped her mouth shut. Travis was entranced; he wanted her to continue. To have someone actually talk to him about something other than what he did when he was in a uniform was refreshing. “What? We what?”
Summer looked up at him, searching. She stood abruptly. “I’m not going to talk about weather only to have you laugh about it later with everyone else in the newsroom,” she snapped. Before he could respond, she took off for the one place he couldn’t follow—the dreaded ladies’ room.
“Don’t mind her.” Travis spun around to find Rachel twirling a strand of hair. “She’s a little socially inept. I think she’s one of those savants. The kind of person who knows a whole bunch about one thing in particular but lacks social graces.”
If she thought speaking of a coworker that way was somehow becoming, she was wrong. Summer’s fear that he’d mock her made complete sense now. One thing he’d learned about women over the years was that the ones who tore down the others deserved his respect the least. Brooke had been a woman-basher, always pointing out the faults in the women she called friends. Travis had no time for that in his life anymore.
“Have you seen Ken? I need to check in with him.”
Rachel’s forehead creased. She was clearly shocked by his disregard for her comments about the weather girl. “He’s probably in his office,” she said, regaining her composure.
Travis nodded and took off. He figured there was only one way to earn Summer’s trust and therefore her help. He had to convince Ken that Summer needed her thirty seconds back.
CHAPTER THREE
THE MORNING SUN was no more forgiving than the one that beat down any other time of day in September. Summer fanned herself with the church bulletin.
“Excellent sermon today, pastor,” her grandfather said, shaking Pastor John’s hand.
“Thank you, David. I meant to ask Summer if we should be praying for more rain or not. You got us a little bit earlier in the week, but it wasn’t enough.”
Summer loved that people thought she had some sort of control over the rain because she forecasted it. Predicting and causing were unfortunately two very different things, but meteorologists got blamed for weather conditions regardless. “Never hurts to pray,” she replied.
“Isn’t that the truth?” The pastor smiled kindly. “We’ll see you next Sunday, Miss Raines.”
Summer followed her grandparents back to the house. They always walked to church unless the weather prevented it. Some people were born for this heat. David and Sarah Raines were two of those people.
“So, tell me about this new sportscaster y’all got over there at Channel 6 now.” Summer’s grandmother hooked arms with her and patted her hand. “I thought he was kind of cute.”
Summer’s eyes rolled behind her sunglasses. Travis was annoyingly cute and ridiculously humble. He was also the reason Summer had to talk faster during her report. Her blood boiled. She fanned herself a little faster.
“He’s barely capable of doing what he’s being paid to do, Mimi. I’m sure we stole a few vi
ewers away from Channel 4 last week, but I’m not so sure they’re going to come back for more.”
“I think if he were on Channel 4, I’d switch over after you were done so I could see him.” Mimi winked and tugged on her arm. The woman always had a devilish look in her eyes—eyes that were the same blue as Summer’s. People always told her she looked like her grandmother. Mimi’s blond hair was a tad lighter but had the same gentle curl, although no one would ever know it because she always wore it in a long braid that fell down her back.
“You hear that, Big D?” Summer leaned forward to get her gentle giant of a grandfather’s attention. He walked without a care on Mimi’s other side. “You okay with her ogling the new sports guy every night?”
He shook his head at their nonsense. “She can look all she wants. She knows she’s stuck with this old man until the good Lord takes me away. Then she can get herself an upgrade.”
Mimi’s sigh was loud and exaggerated. “Knowing how stubborn your granddad is, he’ll probably outlive me and be the lucky one who gets to trade up.”
Summer laughed. “That’s probably best. They don’t make men like they used to. I don’t think you could upgrade if you were given the chance.”
Big D reached behind his wife and placed his hand on his granddaughter’s back. “You’re a good girl, Summer.”
Sundays were always the same—church and lunch with her grandparents, followed by a quiet evening at home...alone. Summer didn’t mind being by herself, but she enjoyed the first part of the day much more than the second. She loved working in the garden with Mimi or sharing the newspaper with Big D. Her grandparents were so different from her parents. They loved their simple life. They believed in putting down roots. They’d both lived in Abilene their entire lives. Before he retired, her grandfather had taught environmental science at the Christian university in town for over thirty years while her grandmother stayed home and raised three children. Summer’s father was the youngest and the only boy. Gavin Raines was more like a leaf in the wind rather than a tree rooted in the ground.
“Don’t think I didn’t notice how you deflected the conversation away from the sports guy,” Mimi said later as they put the finishing touches on an apple pie.
Summer smashed her lips together. She was not going to spill any of the feelings she was having about Travis. No matter how perceptive her grandmother thought she was being, there was nothing to tell. There was never going to be anything between Summer and the ex-football player who couldn’t read a Teleprompter to save his life. His presence at the station ruined her chances of doing more than reporting the highs and lows for the week. All Summer wanted was to share her passion for Mother Nature. Was that too much to ask?
She opened the oven and put the pie in before setting the timer. “Did you know that in ten minutes, a hurricane can release more energy than all the world’s nuclear weapons combined?”
“Well, well.” Mimi rubbed her hands together with a gleeful look in her eye. “There must be a really good story about this boy if I’m gettin’ weather facts.”
“There was a hurricane near Haiti earlier this week. I find hurricanes quite fascinating,” Summer said in her defense.
“I think you find something else more fascinating than you want to admit.”
“He took thirty seconds of my weather report away. I find nothing the least bit fascinating about him or football. Football, football, football! Do people in Texas not know there are other things happening in the world besides football?”
Mimi bit her tongue, trying not to infuriate her already irrational granddaughter. Summer had moved to Abilene when she was sixteen and never quite acclimated to the Texas way of life. Being raised by hard-core storm chasers probably hadn’t helped. “Oh, sweetheart, it’s not his fault that football reigns supreme around these parts. You can’t hold the general public’s preferences against him.”
Summer sat back down at the kitchen table, flustered. She hated that it was so easy for him. He waltzed into the studio and all the viewers were going to love him no matter what. She didn’t love him. She didn’t even like him. She barely tolerated him. “He also calls me Weather Girl. Says it sounds cute.”
Mimi had to cover her mouth to stop her laughter from sending Summer into a real fit. “He thinks you’re cute, doesn’t he?”
Summer crossed her arms as she narrowed her eyes at the old woman. “If it weren’t for the apple pie, I would so be going home right now.”
Big D walked into the kitchen wondering if he needed to call for an ambulance. His wife was laughing so hard, her face was bright red. Mimi got up, wiping her eyes and shaking her head. She shooed them both out so she could get lunch ready.
“She still giving you a hard time about that quarterback?” Big D asked. He’d always had a soft spot for his granddaughter, but it got bigger after her parents died. Summer knew it and never took advantage. It was nice having Big D looking out for her, even when he only had to protect her from nosy grandmothers.
“She just wants me to get married before she dies. I figure the longer I drag it out, the longer she’ll stick around. Maybe I’ll wait until she’s a hundred.”
He looked up at the ceiling pleadingly. “Lord, help me.”
“Be nice,” Summer warned.
“She wants you to be happy, darlin’. That’s all she wants.”
She wanted them to be happy, too. When her dad died, so did a little piece of them. Summer’s presence helped, healed some of the wounds. Still, one thing she’d learned in the hard years since her parents’ deaths—people don’t get over burying a child. Mimi was having a good day today, but next week was the anniversary of her son and daughter-in-law’s deaths. As feisty as the old woman in the other room was, she still suffered from a broken heart. The dark days were coming. Summer could feel it.
“I am happy.” Big D gave her a knowing look from his oversize recliner. “Most of the time,” she added.
“I never thought you’d stick around here. Not that I mind, of course. I just thought you’d be more like your daddy, I guess.”
Summer had two reasons why she stuck around, and they were both in this house. Part of her yearned to be in the thick of things, studying weather phenomena on location instead of reporting about them from the safety of a television studio. Nevertheless, she knew her grandmother wanted nothing more than for her to marry someone with roots in Texas and raise a family that would fill the dining room table every Sunday. Summer wasn’t looking for some guy to settle down with because she wasn’t sure she wanted to settle down. Sometimes she hoped there was a man out there who was going to blow into town and sweep her off her feet, take her away and show her the adventure of a lifetime. That was a secret she’d never dare tell.
“I’m good, Big D. Don’t you waste one more minute worrying about me.”
He sat forward and patted her knee with a weathered but gentle hand. “I could say the same thing to you, sweetheart.”
* * *
SUMMER SPENT ALL of Sunday night thinking about what her grandfather had said. She thought about it again while she waited for her turn to speak to a bunch of kids at one of the local libraries Monday afternoon. It also crossed her mind when she arrived at the station later and opened an email from Ryan.
I have big news when I see you. You won’t be able to say no this time. Your career as a boring, Texas weather girl is over.
Ryan was crazy. Wasn’t he? Being a meteorologist was the perfect job for her. Summer got paid to talk about the weather five days a week. What more could she ask for?
Adventure.
The truth was, the thrill of a storm chase was like nothing else she had ever known. She tried to appease the wild child inside her with rock climbing, hiking, even skydiving. Nothing came close. Summer loved the weather, but did she love being the—
“Weather Girl.” T
ravis was all smiles as he sat on the corner of her desk. “Did you have a good weekend?”
“I had a great weekend,” Summer said, taking a good look at him. His hair was shorter, a lot shorter. It made him look older, less like a boy and more like a man. “It looks like someone attacked your head with some clippers.”
Looking sheepish, he rubbed his clean-shaven jaw with his knuckles. “I got a haircut,” he said, stating the obvious. “My aunt Kelly’s neighbor’s book club apparently thought it was too long. Kelly agreed and called my mother, who called me and said she wasn’t going to bake any red velvet cupcakes when I came to visit if I didn’t get it cut.”
“She drives a hard bargain.”
“You have no idea. Her cupcakes make me cry,” he whispered.
“Interesting,” Summer said, not interested in the least.
“I’ll ask her to bake you some. She likes you.” He cringed and closed his eyes. His cheeks turned pink. “I mean she watches you and likes you, you know, as a weather girl.”
If anyone knew about sticking her foot in her mouth, it was Summer. “If it makes you feel any better, my grandmother thinks you’re cute,” she confessed to ease his embarrassment.
“She does?” His eyes were bright like the clouds had lifted. “And would you say you consider your grandmother a wise woman?”
“Oh, Mimi is completely off her rocker. I mean, she is more than a few cards short of a full deck. Bonkers. Mad as a hatter. Crazy as a—”
“Okay, okay!” Travis put his fingers on her lips. “I get it.”
Summer’s heart skipped a beat, then flew into overdrive. Before she could process this unexpected physical reaction, Travis pulled his hand away and shoved it deep in his pants pocket.
“Did you know that the highest temperature ever recorded was 136 degrees Fahrenheit in Azizia, Libya?” she blurted out. “Can you imagine?”
His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. “That’s crazy hot.”
“Summer, Travis. Can you two come here a minute?” Ken called from the doorway of his office, breaking the tension.
