Summer Girl

by Boeshaar, Andrea

  She’s not leaving for good, you idiot. She’s probably just meeting some friends.

  As Travis watched his summer girl walk up the boulevard, her tangerine-colored hair swinging just above her shoulders, he regretted being so terse with her earlier. True, he wasn’t exactly thrilled that she’d told Bella the truth, but he also cringed at the thought of life without her. In one week’s time, Jena had set his skewed world right again.

  That’s the Lord, Travis. See what the Lord can do?

  The memory of Meg’s voice rang in his ears, and he gazed at her photo again. She’d said those words a thousand times—whenever something good happened. “That’s God.” or “That’s the Lord.” On the other hand, when hard times hit, Meg said that was God too. “We’ll rejoice in adversity, and God will see us through.”

  Travis shook his head and placed the picture in its damaged frame onto his dresser. Meg had been the ultimate Pollyanna if there ever was one. Every cloud had a silver lining and after every dark storm, there was a bright, beautiful rainbow. Meg had become a Christian shortly after Mandi’s birth, and while she tried to get Travis to “see the Light,” he’d never been interested enough to try to understand.

  But there was one thing he now knew for certain: a Christian woman in his home, caring for his girls, was the difference between contentedness and catastrophe.

  Thirteen

  Jena sat alone at a back table in the coffee house, flipping through the bridal magazine she’d purchased at the drugstore across the street. No sooner had she taken a sip of the hazelnut-flavored iced coffee than a young man approached her.

  “Excuse me, but don’t I know you?”

  He stood as tall as a California redwood. After craning her neck to glimpse his face, Jena shook her head. “I don’t think so. At least you don’t look familiar to me.”

  “Did you go to Lakeview College in Watertown?”

  “Why, yes.” Jena smiled. “I still attend, actually. I’ll be finishing up my last semester come fall.”

  “I’m Rusty McKenna,” he said, folding his lanky frame into the chair across from her. Jena noted his auburn hair and thought his name was quite fitting.

  “Nice to meet you. I’m Jena Calhoun.”

  He squinted, studying her face, then pointed a tapered finger at her. “You’re the one I’ve seen around Mr. Larson’s place.”

  “Yes, how did you know?”

  “Because I live across the street—well sort of across the street. His place is at the dead end of Shorewood Boulevard, and we’re two houses in from the corner.”

  “Oh.” Jena gave him a polite smile.

  “Are you a relative taking care of his kids?”

  “No, Travis hired me to watch Mandi and Carly for the summer.”

  Rusty nodded out a reply, while Jena considered him. Long and narrow with his nose and jaw jutting outward, there was an equine sort of look to his face. She wouldn’t say he was “handsome,” but he wasn’t unattractive, either. He had fascinating eyes and an intelligent light shone from their hazel depths.

  “What’s your major?”

  “Home Ec,” Jena replied. “And yours?”

  “Was. . .Pastoral Studies. I just graduated earlier this month.”

  “Congratulations!”

  He beamed. “Thanks.”

  “So. . .you’re going into the ministry?

  Rusty nodded. “I feel I’m called to preach, but I just don’t know where yet.”

  Hope bubbled up inside of Jena. Is this the one, Lord? She’d been praying for God to send her a husband, and she wasn’t being that picky. She wanted a missionary. . .or a pastor.

  Very discreetly, Jena closed the bridal magazine and set it face down on the table, beneath her handbag.

  “So who’s the blond I’ve seen over at the Larsons? She drives that older model Cavalier.”

  “Oh, that’s Mary Star. She’s become a friend of mine since accepting Christ last December.”

  “Oh, neat.” Rusty bobbed his large head, his wide mouth pursed in thought. “You’re both single, I take it.”

  “For the time being,” Jena replied with a sassy grin.

  Rusty chuckled. “Say, you want a lift back to the Larsons’? I’m leaving in a few minutes. I just need to say goodbye to a few of my friends. They’re sitting up in front.”

  “Oh, sure. That’d be great. I’d love the ride home. Thanks.”

  Rusty stood with a parting smile and walked away while Jena tried to quell her excitement. Oh, God, please let me know if this meeting was ordained by You. Leaning sideways, she lifted the plastic shopping bag containing the analgesic lotion for her sunburned skin that she bought along with the magazine. Rolling up the publication, she stuffed it into the bag. Coffee in one hand, she slung her purse over her shoulder, trying not to wince, and gripped her purchases with the other. Then she made her way up the row of tables to where Rusty conversed with three other young men.

  “Hey, guys, this is Jena,” he said, as she approached.

  She sent them each a polite smile, and they nodded back at her.

  “She works for Mr. Larson across the street. . .remember, I prayed about somehow meeting that woman I told you guys about. Well. . .” He waggled a thumb in Jena’s direction.

  He prayed about meeting me? Jena’s pulse quickened.

  Meanwhile grins and exclamations emulated from his buddies. Jena felt her face flush scarlet. She took a sip of her iced coffee in an effort to conceal her chagrin.

  “Listen, I’ve got an idea.” Rusty turned to her. “How ’bout we go to the zoo tomorrow. Mark, here, will come with us, and you can ask your friend Mary Star to come along.”

  Jena mulled it over. Rusty probably wanted friends to accompany them so he wouldn’t feel uncomfortable their first time out together. But there was just one problem.

  “I’ll have to take Mandi and Carly.”

  “Oh, sure, that’s fine. We don’t have anything against kids, do we, Mark?”

  “Umm, I have things to do tomorrow. . .”

  “You owe me one, Buddy.”

  Mark rolled his blue eyes and glanced across the table at his cronies. “Yeah, okay, but let’s go in the morning. I’ve got stuff to get done in the afternoon.”

  “Deal.” Rusty turned to Jena. “Okay with you?”

  “Sure.” She was up early and so were the girls. She didn’t think Travis would care if they went to the zoo.

  “Do you think Mary Star will agree to come along?”

  “I can probably persuade her.”

  “Great.” Rusty grinned at his friends. “Mary Star. . .what do think of that name, huh?”

  They all shrugged.

  Jena smiled. “She likes to be called Star for short.”

  One of his pals laughed. “Great. Her name matches the stars in Rus’s eyes.”

  Rusty waved a hand at them, then looked at Jena. “Do you see stars in my eyes?”

  Embarrassed, she raised her shoulders in a quick up and down motion.

  “Listen, you guys, I’ll see you later. I’m driving Jena home. Mark, I’ll pick you up bright and early. . .let’s say around eight.”

  “I’ll be ready.” His tone didn’t sound very enthusiastic, but Rusty seemed oblivious to the fact.

  “C’mon, Jena.”

  She followed him out of the coffee house and walked beside him up the street until they reached a light blue minivan. Rusty pulled the keys out of his pocket and walked around to the driver’s side. Once he’d climbed in behind the wheel, he popped the automatic lock, and Jena, juggling her coffee and drugstore purchases, opened the door.

  “Nice night, isn’t it?” he asked as she tried to gracefully seat herself in the van without spilling her coffee.

  “Yeah, it’s. . .nice.” She managed to close the door, thinking Rusty should have helped her into the vehicle. Jena had several male acquaintances, whom she’d met at school, and they often went out together—girls and guys—as a group. Even in that platonic
situation, one of the men would open the car doors for the ladies.

  “Do you know Ben Talbot?” Jena asked.

  “Yeah, I think so.” Rusty started the engine. “Is he short and kind of going bald already?”

  “Yeah. . .” Jena hadn’t ever heard Ben described in such a negative light before. The guy had a heart of gold. “He’s getting married in November to Denise Anderson. Do you know her?”

  “No.”

  “Oh. . .”

  It was then that Jena realized Denise had graduated two years ago. She and Ben were waiting to get married once he’d completed his Master’s Degree.

  I’m probably a good three years older than Rusty. . .is that going to matter, Lord?

  “So how’d you and Mary Star meet? Does she go to Lakeview Bible too?”

  “No. We met last year at my church’s Christmas program. . .”

  ❧

  Travis walked to the front entrance of his home, intending to lock up for the night. Through the screen door, he spied a blue van as it pulled to the front walkway. He waited around to see if he could guess the driver’s objectives when, to his surprise, Jena jumped out of the passenger side. As the dim light illuminated the inside of the minivan, Travis strained to get a look at the driver. It was definitely a guy.

  “Okay. See you tomorrow,” he heard Jena say before slamming the door.

  See you tomorrow? Travis raised a brow, wondering if Jena had forgotten her responsibilities included Saturdays. Or, what if she was planning to move out? Her male friend had a van. . .

  Making his way through the house with purposeful strides, Travis exited the backdoor in time to meet Jena in the courtyard. She startled when she saw him, and Travis noticed the dark liquid that spilled from the cup in her hand, despite its white lid.

  “Travis, you scared the wits out of me!”

  He grinned. “Sorry.” Cocking his head, he put his hands on his hips. “Is that coffee?”

  “Yeah.”

  “How can you sleep after drinking that stuff so late at night?”

  “It’s only ten o’clock.”

  “I’d be awake all night if I drank coffee at this hour.”

  Beneath the glow of the yard light, Travis watched as she shrugged out a reply.

  “So, Jena,” he began, slowing stepping toward her, “I, um, need to apologize for being so brusque earlier.”

  “That’s okay. I knew you’d be mad.”

  “I’m not mad. Never was. Just, oh, maybe disappointed.”

  “Very understandable.”

  She took a few paces toward her apartment door, but Travis stepped in front of her.

  “Jena, if you recall our initial agreement, I said you could have Sundays off.”

  “Right.”

  “Well. . .” Travis rubbed his palms together. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I overheard you telling that guy in the van you’d see him tomorrow. Did you mean tomorrow night after eight?”

  “No. I meant tomorrow during the day. We’re going to the zoo, and I planned to take Mandi and Carly with me.”

  Travis didn’t like the sound of it—Jena taking his daughters on a. . .date? No way!

  “Look, Jena, I don’t know. . .”

  “Mary Star is coming and so is one of Rusty’s friends.”

  “Rusty?”

  “Yeah, the guy who drove me home tonight. He just graduated from Lakeview Bible, and he lives just across the street from you.”

  Travis pursed his lips and mulled over the remark. “What’s his last name?”

  “McKenna.”

  Travis recognized the name at once. Jill and Ryan McKenna were nice folks who had been a great help to Meg while she was sick. “I know the McKennas. So, you’re interested in their son—what’s his name? Rusty?”

  “I don’t know if I’m interested in him or not. I just met him tonight.”

  Travis folded his arms and regarded her sunburned face. She looked like Rudolph with that red nose. “Not to change the subject, but I think you got cooked at the beach today.”

  “I sure did. It’s starting to smart now. I hope Mandi and Carly aren’t sunburned. I doused them with sunscreen.”

  “And then there wasn’t enough left for you, eh?”

  “I thought there was. Guess not.”

  An uncomfortable little laugh escaped her, and she lowered her gaze. Travis, on the other hand, suddenly realized just what kind of woman Jena Calhoun was—a sacrificial one. She had made sure his daughters were spared sunburn even if it meant she got fried.

  “Jena, you’re a special lady, know that?”

  She laughed again. “Uh-oh, sounds like you want another favor.”

  “Oh, thanks a heap,” he retorted, sporting a grin. “I give you a compliment, and you think I’m just trying to butter you up.”

  “Well, you are a lawyer.”

  He brought his chin back, and she chuckled at his indignant expression. “I’ll have you know I’m an honest lawyer.”

  She skirted around him and walked the rest of the way to her apartment’s outer doorway. Her soft laughter wafted on the gentle breeze and seemed to wrap itself around his heart.

  “I think you probably are an honest lawyer. You sure are a good daddy to your girls. They adore you.”

  “Thanks, but. . .” He frowned. “I don’t get the connection.”

  “Well, maybe there isn’t one—a logical one, anyway. It’s just that, to my way of thinking, if you were a crooked, scheming attorney, it would probably come out somehow in your parenting.”

  “Hmm, interesting parallel.” He couldn’t help but think of Craig’s son, Josh. At thirty years old, the man still behaved like a spoiled child, and it always made Travis cringe to hear the condescending tone Josh used whenever he talked to his wife.

  “Good night, Travis.”

  Rousing himself from his musings, he saw Jena step inside the door. “Good night. Sleep well.”

  ❧

  The next morning, much to Jena’s dismay, she felt awful—so bad, in fact, that she phoned Star and cancelled their trip to the zoo. Telling Rusty when he came to pick her up at seven forty-five had been a major disappointment as well. But she felt so woozy and sick to her stomach that even the thought of traipsing around the zoo made her want to run for the bathroom. By noon, a drumbeat pounded in her head, and the sound of Travis mowing the lawn out in front of the house didn’t help matters.

  Sitting in the shady backyard, watching the girls splash in their kiddy pool, Jena held a cold rag to her temples.

  “Miss Jena, what’s the matter?” Mandi asked, climbing out of her pool and skipping to where Jena sat at the picnic table.

  “Oh, nothing. I just have a little headache.”

  Mandi tipped her head while she contemplated the reply. “Aunty Glenda used to say me ’n Carly gave her a headache. Did we give you one too?”

  “No, Precious. Neither of you gave it to me.” Jena figured she probably just had a touch of the flu. She prayed she wouldn’t pass the virus on to the girls.

  Mandi returned to the pool, and minutes later, Travis rounded the corner of the yard. The girls shrieked with delight when he began splashing and tickling them. The racket made Jena tense.

  “Hey, you still not feeling well?” Travis came over and sat down across from her. Beads of perspiration trickled down both sides of his face, getting lost somewhere in his shadowy jaw.

  “No, I feel worse. I’ve got this headache that just won’t quit.”

  “Did you take Ibuprofen or something?”

  “Yes.” She put the wet cloth across her eyes. It felt good. . . for a few seconds.

  “Look at me, Jena.”

  Removing the cloth, she did as he bid her and glanced across the table at him. She suddenly felt like she’d gotten off one of those spinning rides at the fair.

  “You look kind of punky.” He tapered his brown eyes in a scrutinizing way. “You’re going to the hospital.”

  “What?” Jena sat up a
little straighter and watched him stand and leave the yard. Where was he going? “Travis, wait. . .”

  She sighed when he didn’t come back, thinking about her rotten health insurance. It only covered big things, like operations, and she couldn’t afford a medical bill.

  Carly climbed up into her lap. A look of concern pinched her three-year-old features. “How come Daddy said the hosible?”

  “I don’t know, Honey, but I’m going to be just fine.” Jena couldn’t help wondering if Travis was over-reacting because his wife had been so sick.

  Within minutes, he returned with Mrs. Barlow in his wake. “I think she’s got sunstroke or sun poisoning,” he said.

  A jab of fear caused Jena’s heart to race—which only intensified the brain-twisting pain in her head.

  “I’m happy to stay with the children, Travis,” Mrs. Barlow said. She stroked Jena’s hair back off her forehead. “Oh, you poor dear. You look like a lobster.”

  “I’ll go change.” Travis jogged to the back door and disappeared into the house.

  Holding Carly on her lap, Jena glanced up into the older woman’s kindly face. “Do you really think I have sun poisoning?”

  “Perhaps. But we’re not going to take any chance one way or the other. You’re going to the emergency room, and that’s that.”

  Fourteen

  Travis flipped through an outdated issue of Time Magazine while a muted baseball game played on the television perched in a corner of the small, sterile exam room. Jena slept in the bed, an IV threaded into her arm. She had been diagnosed with some form of sun sickness, although the doctors were hesitant to label it. She’d become dehydrated so bags of fluid were administered. Next, Jena was given a narcotic for her headache, and it knocked her out. But the good news was she would be just fine in a day or two.

  Travis glanced over at Jena’s sleeping form, from her blue and white checked hospital gown to the crisp white sheet that had been neatly tucked around her waist. A déjà vu feeling washed over him. He’d spent countless hours sitting at Meg’s bedside during her illness, and while he’d never developed an aversion to hospitals, he didn’t particularly care to spend any length of time inside their walls, either. On the other hand, he was grateful medical facilities such as this one existed when he needed them—like now. But in Meg’s case, her doctors had done everything possible to spare her life. The cancer had just spread too rapidly.