Page 14 of Always and Forever
Her voice trails off, and I can tell she’s lost in the memories of her childhood. I let myself go there, too, only every memory has Summer in it. Which is weird, because we didn’t actually spend that much time together as kids. But I can remember her and Mila jumping in piles of leaves that my dad and I spent hours raking, and a lot of times the three of us plus Reid would ride our bikes to the corner store for candy and ice cream. After school, I would be in charge of walking the girls home. But we were allowed to stay and play at this very playground for a while before we had to be home, and most of the time I would be roped into a game of tag or hide and seek with Mila and Summer. Sure, there were some days when I felt too old to be playing silly games with little girls, but most of the time I was fine with it. We had fun.
“Did you stay in touch with my dad?” She sounds nervous, almost as if she’s not sure she wants to hear my answer.
“Yeah,” I say gruffly. “Mom and Dad would invite him over for dinner every now and then.”
“Did he…did he ever talk about me?”
Fuck. This sucks. She’s in pain, and I’m about to make it worse.
“Not to us. And Mom and Dad told us not to bring you up around him, no matter how much Mila wanted to ask him. It killed her that you left and we never heard from you again. She wanted to know why, but our parents figured it would only hurt your dad to talk about you.”
Summer is silent and still. I can’t stand it anymore, so I walk behind her and put my hands on the chain of the swing, pulling her back gently. She looks over her shoulder, and I see a ghost of a smile lift her lips just before I push her away from me. For several minutes we don’t talk, I simply push her on the swing as she goes higher and higher. Her hair is flying out behind her, and eventually I hear her laugh, and the weight on my heart lightens. I make my way to the swing next to her and sit down, kicking my feet lightly so I move back and forth a little. Her eyes are closed, so I can watch her without wondering if she’ll notice. Her face is upturned to the dusky sky, and she’s smiling. She’s so fucking beautiful, I wonder what she would feel like under my touch, whether her skin would be soft under my kisses. Just those fleeting thoughts are enough to make my dick stir in my shorts and I have to think of something else to distract myself before it becomes apparent.
Dirty underwear…cleaning toilets…
Eventually her swing slows down until she’s beside me, but since we’re facing each other, it’s easy to meet her gaze.
“Can you tell me about him?”
I wish my parents were still alive. They would have so many more stories to tell her, not to mention they would be so happy she’s back. In that sense, I guess Summer and I have something in common beyond our childhood friendship. We’ve both lost a parent; the difference is I had most of my life with mine, but she was taken away from hers long before he actually died. She can never get those missing years back. I do have one story I can share with her that I hope makes her smile.
“He stayed involved with the town, kept on delivering the mail right up until retiring at sixty. When I took over as mayor, he showed up at my office one day in November and handed me a red and white striped pen.” I chuckle at the memory of Carl standing in my office with a very stern expression on his face, me behind my desk, scared to death about the job I was unprepared for.
“He said to me, ‘Mayor Monroe, I’m here to tell you a part of your job no one ever talks about. You, my friend, are now Santa Claus.’”
Summer giggles. “What? That makes no sense!”
“Ah, but it does. See, Canada Post has their letter to Santa program, where if kids write a letter to Santa, someone has to answer it. Normally staff at one of the main branches would take care of it, but for some reason, out here, the job used to fall on your dad. I guess a few years before I took over, he approached Mayor Chow about getting some help with it, and she volunteered to take it on. Except, when I succeeded her as mayor, she neglected to tell me that. It wasn’t until your dad showed up with that damn pen that I knew what I was in for. I signed two hundred and something letters that first year.”
“Oh, Ethan, that’s adorable!” Her eyes are shining again, not with tears, but with happiness. Damn does that make me feel good.
“Yeah, he took that and other things really seriously. Especially when it came to the kids in town. Every fall he would have mini chocolate bars in his mailbag for about a week leading up to Halloween, and if he saw a kid while he was out on his route he’d call out ‘trick or treat’ to them and toss them a candy.” I shake my head at that memory, smiling at the reaction from Reid’s ex-girlfriend Sasha one year, who was horrified that kids would accept candy from what she figured was a stranger. “Everyone knew him and loved him. The town took care of him when your mom took you away. And when he died, we all mourned him.”
“I wish I was here for that. I wish I knew him like that. When I left, I had no idea I would never see him again.”
When I look over at her, Summer’s hands are clenched so tightly on the swing that her knuckles are white. Her brow is furrowed, and her cheeks are flushed. Even angry and hurting, she’s still so stunning it takes my breath away.
“Why didn’t you come back sooner?” The question escapes me before I can think about how it might sound, and even though I worry she’ll be mad that I asked, I want to know the answer. That’s bugged me since she returned. She doesn’t answer me right away. Instead, she stares down at the ground, her feet kicking the wood chips underneath our feet.
“My mom never had a good thing to say about Dogwood Cove. Over and over again she would tell me how awful it was here, how much she hated living here, and how miserable it was. At first she didn’t bring my Dad into it, but when I started asking when he was going to join us wherever we were, she told me he didn’t want to leave. She made me believe that he didn’t want me. It hurt, so badly, but I had no reason to doubt her. Then when I got old enough to realize she didn’t exactly care that much about me, either, I was mad at him. Because if she lied to me, and he really did want me, then why didn’t he fight? Why didn’t he come for me?”
Her voice is full of so much confusion, so much anger and pain. I wish I had the answers that she deserves. Instead, I do the only thing I can do. Offer comfort. I stand up from my swing, take the two steps that put me in front of her, and pull her up and into my arms for a hug. Tentatively I reach my hand up to cup her cheek, and the sensation of her warm skin against my palm almost does me in.
“Your mom lied to you, and from what I can guess, didn’t exactly give you a good childhood after you left here. She had no right to keep you from your dad. I don’t know why he never went after you, because from what I knew of him, he would have wanted you. Desperately.”
“Thank you.”
Those two words come out as a watery whisper, and the way she turns her cheek into my palm makes my heart expand with my desire to protect her from pain.
I don’t know how much longer I’m going to be able to deny the truth. I want Summer Harris to be more than just my friend.
7
Summer
“Get…out…you…mother…truckin’…weed!” I yell as my shovel finally breaks loose the gigantic root mass of the bush I’m trying to dig out. Turns out feeling overwhelmed with confusing emotions makes pretty good fuel for hard physical labor. And after that evening at the playground with Ethan, finding out about my dad and everything I missed, well, I’ve got plenty of emotions built up. In only a couple of hours, I’ve managed to cleanup most of the weeds and trash around the main building. If Mila really does manage to coordinate a work party, that could take care of most of the cabin cleanup, and then I can properly assess what needs to be done to make this place operational again.
Not that I’ve got the funds to do any of it, that is. Even if I start teaching classes at Serena’s studio, , I won’t be able to save much for renovation costs. I’m not afraid to do hard work myself, but even I know this is more than I can handle on my own. Not to mention the cost of tools, supplies, and eventually furniture. The costs keep mounting up in my mind.
