Summer Girl

by Boeshaar, Andrea

  “I think it’s a great idea,” Craig interjected. “You young couples can get better acquainted, and—”

  “Us ‘young couples’ nothing!” Jena retorted. She’d had just about enough of this man and his endless fibs. It would do him good to go to church on Sunday. “I insist you and. . .and Miriam join us.”

  Mrs. Duncan appeared startled at Jena’s familiar use of her given name.

  Her husband, however, looked suddenly very irritated. His face reddened, making his white hair seem a shade lighter. “You insist?”

  “Craig—”

  “No, no, Travis. Don’t try and defend her.”

  Bella gaped at the older man, and Jena felt as though she were a witness about to be cross-examined.

  Craig’s steely gray gaze bore into her. “You insist?”

  Jena forced herself not to squirm; however, in the next moment it was as if the Lord revealed to her that she held the upper hand in this little game.

  “Yes, I insist.” she replied, lifting her chin. “You’re coming and that’s that.”

  “What?!”

  She held his gaze, silently daring Craig Duncan to say one more word. If he did, Jena planned to confess the grand sham Craig so thoughtlessly instigated tonight. She’d probably lose her job, but. . .

  The words of Queen Esther suddenly flittered through Jena’s head. “If I perish, I perish.”

  “I think you’ve overstepped your bounds, young lady.” Craig said. “No one’s going to insist I do anything. Particularly you.”

  Jena turned to Bella who watched the exchange with an expression somewhere between confusion and curiosity.

  “There’s something you need to know about tonight. I’m not—”

  “Sunday morning it is!” Craig exclaimed, bringing his palm down on the table with a bang. “You know, Trav, I haven’t been in church in years. This’ll be refreshing.”

  Bella placed a hand on Jena’s arm. “Ignore him. What did you want to tell me?”

  “I’m not the person you think I am.”

  “Jena. . .”

  Hearing what sounded like surprise mingled with hurt in Travis’s voice, she looked across the table at him. “Travis, I can’t lie anymore.”

  An almost wounded expression crossed his face, as if he’d been slapped, and for whatever the reason, Jena couldn’t get herself to betray him. She searched her mind for a way to back out of what she’d begun to say.

  “You see, I’m not as domestic as Craig has made me out to be.” She stood and began to clear her place. Next, she took Star’s plate. “I let you all believe I baked that rhubarb pie in the kitchen. But the truth is, our sweet neighbor Mrs. Barlow did.”

  Exiting the dining room, Jena caught Travis’s look of relief.

  Ten

  The sun was just beginning to set when the guests finally departed. The last three hours had seemed like a week to Travis. Even so, he glanced up Shorewood Boulevard and felt a moment’s appreciation for the maroon and gray streaks painted across the sky. After a beep-beep from the Minniati’s white SUV, he waved and forced a parting smile as the couple drove away.

  “If Bella doesn’t sign with us because of tonight,” Craig muttered, “I’m taking that little upstart summer girl of yours to court for breech of contract.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. She never signed a thing. Where’s your evidence?”

  Craig grumbled. “I’ll have Yolanda dig up something on her, and I’ll go from there.”

  Travis laughed. “Good luck. Your chances of finding dirt on Jena are about as good as the chance of it snowing tonight.” Unknotting his tie, he wished he had turned on the central air when he got home.

  “Listen, that girl’s got a lot of nerve insisting I go to church on Sunday morning.”

  “Yeah, well, I want to go to church about as much as you do.” He waved away Craig’s next remark. “I’ll talk to Bella. I’ll make up some excuse for tonight’s. . .misunderstanding.”

  “No, you can’t do that. Not unless she signs first.”

  Travis inhaled and willed himself to stay calm. He blew out a deep breath. “If we lose this contract, Craig, it’s your fault. You might as well accept responsibility for it now. You started everything, and if I were Jena, I’d have socked you right in the nose.”

  “Then I would have had a good lawsuit, wouldn’t I?” Craig chuckled, and his good-natured disposition returned. “Well, all in all, I think it was a productive evening.”

  Travis wanted to argue the point, but he felt too tired.

  Craig walked around to the other side of the car. “See you tomorrow at the office, Trav.”

  “Right-o.” He waved to Miriam through the window of the passenger side. She’d been waiting in cool comfort while he and Craig said their good-byes.

  With his hands on his hips, Travis watched the Duncans’ green Lincoln Town Car pull away from the curb and make its way up Prospect Avenue. Turning on his heel, he walked back to the house. One step inside the front door and he could hear Star’s laughter over the din of the garbage disposal and running water. Next came Jena’s reprimand.

  “Mary Star Palmer! I cannot believe those words came out of your mouth! Just for that, I’m going to tell Tom. . .” Her voice trailed off.

  Travis figured there was some big time teasing going on. Over the last couple of days, he’d gotten to know Star a little better. She seemed intelligent, but a little on the ditzy side, and she had a hankering for poking fun at Jena in a way that made Travis wonder why Jena put up with girl. He sighed. Oh, well, what are friends for?

  He strode to the kitchen and entered just as Jena backed up to the doorway, dodging a flying wet dishrag. She stepped on his foot, and as a reactionary gesture, he set his hands on her waist to steady her. In doing so, he caught the soaking cloth in the shoulder.

  Star’s eyes grew as round as dessert plates. “Oops.”

  Jena swung around, and her face turned two shades of pink. Travis held her blue-eyed gaze with his, as he balled the rag in his palm. Then without warning, he whipped it at Star. She yelped and jumped out of the way, but it splattered against her right elbow.

  Jena whirled around and laughed. “That’s what you get.”

  Star chuckled along before tossing the rag into the sink. “Yeah, I suppose so.”

  Smiling, Travis shook his head at the two of them. “You girls need to lighten up.”

  The sarcasm wasn’t lost on either of them, and they replied with chagrined smiles.

  “Listen, I’m sorry about tonight. Jena, I’m really sorry about tonight.”

  She lifted her shoulders in a quick up and down motion and resumed loading the dishwasher. Dressed in a white t-shirt and a crazy-patterned skirt and matching vest, she had ditched her sandals already, and Travis had to grin at the sight of her bare feet. She was as bad as his daughters.

  “Guess I’ll go up and check on Carly,” he said, deciding he’d wait until Star left before talking to Jena about tonight.

  “I did already.” She glanced his way. “I don’t think she has a fever anymore, and she’s sound asleep.”

  “Oh, good.” Travis looked from Jena to Star. “Then I guess I’ll go up and change my shirt.”

  Chuckling at her guilty expression, he left the kitchen and took to the stairs with his usual two-at-a-time.

  ❧

  “He always does that.”

  “Does what?”

  Jena turned to Star. “He always runs up the steps like that. Practically shakes the whole house.”

  “Yeah, so?”

  Jena shrugged. “Just something I noticed, that’s all.”

  “Hmm. Well, I hope you’re noticing the guy running up the steps too.”

  “Oh, Star, honestly! Will you stop it, already? I’ve told you—”

  “I know. I know. You’re waiting for God to bring the right man to you. You don’t have to go looking. Our Heavenly Father will take care of it.” Star shook her blond head. “But I’m telling you, Je
na, I think He has.”

  “A lawyer? Yeah, right.” Jena pointed towards the dining room and lowered her voice. “Look at his friends. I could never be one of those kinds of people. Besides, I don’t think Travis is a Christian.”

  “If God saved me, He can save anybody!”

  Jena didn’t reply even though she agreed with Star. Nevertheless, Jena wished her friend would stop trying to pair her with Travis. It was most frustrating.

  They finished cleaning the kitchen, and Jena started the dishwasher.

  “You should see how he looks at you. I’m not kidding.”

  Jena moaned in aggravation. “Star! Drop it already!”

  “All right, all right.” The younger woman stepped back, her palms raised in surrender. “I will not say another word. Not one more thing.”

  “I’d get that in writing, Jen,” Travis said, entering the room, checkbook in hand. He laughed at his own quip.

  Jena prayed he hadn’t heard what preceded it.

  She watched as now, wearing a green Polo shirt and khaki trousers, he clicked his pen and began writing out a check.

  “Just pay Star,” Jena told him. “You don’t owe me anything.”

  “Yes, I do, and I’m going to pay you.” His voice sounded kind but adamant.

  “No.” Jena’s tone was just as firm.

  “She’s in an argumentative mood tonight,” Star said, throwing Jena a dubious glare.

  “I need to repent for lying tonight, not get paid for it.” She looked at Travis. “I don’t want your money, and if you pay me, I’ll rip up the check.”

  With that, she spun around and left the house. She walked across the small courtyard wondering why she felt so ornery. Normally, Star didn’t get on her nerves, but tonight for some reason, Jena felt perturbed with her friend.

  She reached her apartment’s lower door and turned the knob.

  “Jena. . .”

  Travis’s deep voice halted her, and she thought that maybe he was getting on her nerves too.

  Slowly she turned around and watched as he came toward her. Star was right behind him.

  “I’m leaving,” she announced. “I’ll call you tomorrow, Jena.”

  “Okay.” She let her gaze follow Star out of the yard, then looked back at Travis, who now stood only a couple of feet away.

  “If you’re angry with me, I can understand why. But I promise I’ll straighten everything out with Bella.”

  Nodding out a reply, Jena opened the door and stepped up into the hallway. She turned on the light, then brushed the hair that had fallen out its clip back off her face.

  “If you won’t take the five hundred dollars I promised you, fine. But you might as well take it. I’ll see to it my law firm reimburses me.” Travis put his foot up on the threshold and leaned forward on his knee. “It’s money for school.”

  Jena wanted to tell him how accepting the money would make her feel. But she felt too embarrassed.

  “Take it, Jena. I’ll make out the check right now.”

  “I said I don’t want it.” She inched the door forward, only to have it connect with the toe of Travis’s brown shoe. He didn’t take the hint and move his foot, either.

  “You earned it. Take the money.”

  “No, I didn’t earn it. Don’t say that.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because it makes me feel. . .cheap.”

  There! She said it!

  Jena drew in a calming breath and lifted her chin. She almost cracked a smile at Travis’s stunned expression.

  “I. . .I had no idea you felt that way. I’m very sorry. Nothing like that ever entered my head.”

  “It didn’t really enter my head either. . .until you tried to pay me.”

  “My sincere apologies, Jena.”

  “All’s forgiven. Let’s just forget it, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  He removed his foot, and she began to close the door, when Travis caught it before it met the latch.

  “Yes?” She peeked around the door.

  His brown eyes filled with apprehension. “You’re not going to quit on me, are you?”

  She rolled her eyes as a smile edged its way across her face. “No, I’m not going to quit on you.” She must have told him that four times this week. “I do need the summer girl job, you know.”

  “Good.” He took several steps backward, but he still wore a wary expression.

  “I’m not going to quit on you,” she reiterated. “I promise.”

  Halfway into the courtyard, he managed a cordial smile. “Good night.”

  “Good night.”

  On that, Jena closed the door, locked it, and ran up the steps—two-at-a-time.

  Eleven

  The next morning, Travis awoke to the sweet smell of cinnamon, fresh bread, and coffee. By the time he’d showered, shaved, and dressed, the girls were at his bedroom door exclaiming over the fact that they’d made sweet rolls.

  “Daddy, you have to come downstairs and eat breakfast now.”

  “Yeah, all right. . .” He gazed at Mandi through the mirror while knotting his tie. “You’re awfully bossy for a six-year-old, know that?”

  She gave him a sassy smile before climbing up on his bed. He could tell she had every intention of using it as trampoline.

  “Hey, off the bed. No, don’t jump. Get off.”

  She took a flying leap and landed on his back, causing him to lose his balance. He fell into his bureau, knocking over a couple of cologne bottles and a picture of Meg.

  “Amanda Lyn Larson, what do you think you’re doing?” Travis peeled off her arms from around his neck and swung her over his shoulder so that she hung upside down.

  She giggled so hard her lanky body shook, and Travis tossed her onto the bed.

  Some example I am. He shook his head at Carly who was in the process of mimicking her older sister.

  “Don’t do it,” he warned her.

  But, wearing an impish grin, Carly started jumping on his bed despite the words of caution. With each bounce, she jostled Mandi who laughed so hard she couldn’t sit upright.

  Travis snatched his youngest in midair. She giggled and he tickled her, tossing her on the bed too. Then he tickled the both of them until they squealed and screamed, pleading for mercy.

  “There.” Holding them around their forearms, he brought them both to a standing position. “Now I’m the dad, and I say. . .no more jumping on the bed. Got it?”

  “Tickle us again, Daddy,” Carly said, a huge smile on her sweet, round face.

  He gazed upward, shaking his head. So much for authority and influence. “Sorry, fun’s over. I’ve got to be in court this morning. Here,” he added, hoping to distract them, “Mandi, you carry my briefcase, and Carly, you carry my suit coat.” He folded it in her arms so she wouldn’t trip on it.

  “Daddy, this is too heavy for me,” Mandi declared, setting the attaché on the top of the steps.

  Carly flung his jacket and followed her sister down the stairs.

  “Some help you two are.”

  Gathering his things, he made his way to the first floor. After a quick stop in his office, he entered the kitchen. Jena glanced at him, then did a double take, and he watched her gaze take in his appearance. Suddenly, he realized the tails of his shirt had come untucked, and his tie was askew.

  “I’ll have you know I was all spit ’n polished before my daughters attacked me.” He combed his fingers through his hair in case it, too, had been mussed.

  “I didn’t say a word.”

  He caught her smirk. “You didn’t have to.”

  Travis watched as Jena flitted around his kitchen in a yellow and white patterned jumper and white T-shirt. Her hair hung to her shoulders, and it looked like it was still wet from a shampoo. His gaze traveled down to her feet—which were bare, just has he expected. But today he noticed the berry colored polish on her toenails. And then he noticed that Jena had very pretty feet—as far as feet go—and she had nicely turned ankles too.


  “I hope you don’t mind that I walk around your house barefoot.”

  “What?” Travis looked up, realized what she’d asked, and shook his head. “No, of course I don’t mind. Why would I?”

  “I don’t know. Just thought I’d ask.”

  He ignored her curious expression and reached for a frosted cinnamon roll.

  “Want a cup of coffee?”

  “Yeah, thanks.”

  From the dishwasher, she pulled out his travel mug, held it up in question, and he nodded. Funny how quickly she learned his routine. Travis didn’t particularly like sitting down to a formal breakfast. He wanted something to grab and go, and he enjoyed taking his coffee with him.

  “Where’d the girls take off to?” he asked, watching Jena add cream and sugar to his brew.

  She smiled. “I bought them each a little plastic watering can, and they’re just outside giving our flowers a morning drink.”

  “Oh, good. That’ll keep those two urchins busy for a few minutes.”

  Finishing off his sweet roll, he reached for another. He munched on it while observing Jena as she twisted on the lid of his stainless thermal mug. Her fingers were long and graceful, and a smattering of tiny brown freckles covered her capable hands and traveled up her arms. Before he could contain the thought, he wondered if her skin felt as soft as it appeared. . .

  “Did I do something wrong?”

  Travis swallowed the food in his mouth and met Jena’s questioning stare. “No, why?”

  “Well, I don’t know, but. . .” Her freckled cheeks turned petal pink. “. . .you’re looking at me kind of weird.”

  “Oh, sorry…”

  He stuffed the rest of the cinnamon pastry into his mouth before he could contend that his appreciative glances had never been called “weird” before.

  Jena handed him his mug. “Are you going to talk to Bella today?”

  He sipped his coffee before answering. “I’ll talk to her. . . soon.”

  “Today?”

  Her eyes beseeched him, and Travis suddenly noted their unique color. A dark blue-gray—like the color of a summer sky before a storm.

  “Travis?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Today? Are you going to speak with Bella today?”