For the Love of Summer

Chapter 23

Erica didn’t have a favorite salon—each had its own personality. The Bellevue salon—her first—would always be home base. The Twisted in the U District, by the university, was edgy, with a younger vibe. Her Issaquah location was all about nature and organic and the one on Carillon Point was just plain gorgeous.

While she couldn’t always coordinate her schedule with the weather, she did try to get to the Carillon Point salon when the skies were clear. Her office had a beautiful water view. When she sat there, sipping her coffee and going over payroll or orders, she felt that she had finally achieved all she’d set out to accomplish. Her little empire was the fulfillment of her dreams and that made her happy.

Despite the craziness in her life, she was in a good place. Having Allison and Jackson in the house was less disruptive than she’d ever imagined. She adored spending time with the toddler and she and Allison were getting along better than she’d expected. A bonus was how she and Summer were getting closer. They were talking more, sharing things. Last night Summer had admitted she’d changed her mind about seeing her dad. Erica had reassured her that was okay—she could go whenever she felt ready.

She was a little less sure about what was happening with Killion. She knew in her head that his request that she meet his daughters made sense. They’d been seeing each other for nearly a year and he spent a lot of time with her mother and daughter, so his request was fair.

But that was the intellectual response. Deep inside, she felt only panic and the need to run. Trust didn’t come easily to her. Taking things to the next level romantically wasn’t her strong suit.

“Knock, knock!”

She glanced up from her computer to see Crystal, Terry and Whitney pushing into her small office. They all looked relaxed and happy, which was great, but why were they here?

Even as she asked the question, she got the answer. Today must have been their spa day. She held in a sigh, thinking she really needed to pay more attention to that sort of thing. If only she’d been at one of her other spas.

“What an amazing day,” Whitney, a curvy redhead, said with a cheerful laugh. “My masseuse had magic hands.”

“I loved the facial,” Terry added. “My skin is glowing. And the lunch. Seriously, Erica, we can’t thank you enough for setting up the experience. It was fantastic.”

“I agree.” Crystal smiled at her. “All right, stop whatever you’re doing. The four of us are heading over to the Woodmark Hotel and we’re buying you a drink. Come on. I’m not kidding.”

Erica stared at them. The Woodmark was the boutique hotel next door, so that part made sense, but getting a drink?

“It’s three thirty in the afternoon.”

“Uh-huh, and you work too much.” Crystal pointed to the door. “We’re not taking no for an answer.” Her expression softened. “It’s the least we can do.”

Erica accepted defeat and pulled her purse from the bottom drawer of her desk. Together the four of them made the short walk to the Woodmark hotel bar. Once seated, everyone ordered. Erica chose a glass of rosé. It was her least favorite kind of wine and she wouldn’t drink much—after all, she was planning on going back to work.

“I’m counting the days until the season is over,” Terry said when the server had left. “There are too many games, too close together. We’re always going or planning or something.”

“You know the team is going to make the finals,” Crystal pointed out. “So plan on at least three beyond the schedule.”

“I know. It happens every year. Then it’s nearly summer. Thank goodness they’re all old enough to drive. At least I’m not spending as much time driving kids around. We just have to decide about buying her a car.” Terry turned to Erica. “Summer has her own car. How’s that working out?”

“It’s been good. We have rules and she’s following them. She’s a careful driver.”

Whitney groaned. “Essie’s begging for a car, but I don’t know. She’s so flaky. All she cares about is fashion, guys and celebrities. You’re lucky Summer’s so grounded. She couldn’t be less interested in clothes or looks. It’s refreshing.”

Crystal nodded in agreement. “She’s the steady friend. That’s for sure. Even when she was dating that guy last year, there wasn’t any drama, no hysterics when it ended. She was sad, but her grades didn’t suffer, at least not that I know about.”

All three of them looked at Erica for confirmation, but she was too stunned to speak. Before she could stop herself, she blurted, “Summer had a boyfriend?”

The three other women exchanged a look. Crystal shrank back in her seat.

“I’m sorry. I thought you knew. It was just for a few weeks. It was—” She cleared her throat. “I mean it wasn’t that big a deal.”

Humiliation merged with pain. Summer had been dating and hadn’t said anything? But these women knew, had been a part of it? When had this happened and who was the guy? No—the more pressing point was her own daughter hadn’t told her about an incredibly significant event in her life.

Erica remembered telling her daughter fifteen was too young to date. Groups were okay, but one-on-one with a guy? Not until she was sixteen. Summer had said she was old-fashioned and didn’t understand. Erica had refused to change her mind. She’d thought that was the end of it.

She pressed a hand to her flushed cheek and wished she could simply run away. The three women were watching her with various degrees of pity, which made things worse.

Her stomach roiled, and her body tensed. How could she not have known? How could her own child not have trusted her enough to tell her the truth? What else was Summer keeping a secret? All this time she’d thought they were getting closer, but she was wrong. She didn’t know anything.

“I can’t,” she said, coming to her feet. “I’m sorry, but I need to go.”

She walked away without looking back. None of them came after her, which wasn’t a surprise. But they would be talking about her as soon as she was out of earshot. Of that she was sure.

Allison stood in the large walk-in closet in her bedroom. Her clothes hung on one side and Peter’s were on the other. As she did most nights, she stood next to his shirts and lightly touched the sleeves, as if the clothing could make her feel her husband was with her.

Normally the ritual comforted her, quieted her worry and eased her mind. But not tonight. In fact not since she’d seen him last and he’d exploded about the amount of money Cappy had given her. Money he hadn’t trusted her with.

Yes, she could rationalize that he’d been worried about the police raiding the house—a point she could almost accept. But not leaving it there was one thing, not telling her about it was another.

Peter had kept secrets. That was both obvious and painful, but there was no avoiding the truth. He’d had an entire secret life, most of it illegal. Which two months ago she would have said was impossible. She knew him, trusted him, loved him. They were married. They’d promised to love each other forever. But had she ever known him at all?

She’d been content with their lives. They’d had each other, Jackson and a baby on the way. That had been enough for her. But not for Peter, or so he’d said. He claimed to have done everything for her, which made her uncomfortable. She didn’t know if him saying that meant he was trying to explain his actions or if he was passing part of the blame onto her.

There weren’t any answers to her questions, no way to find out the truth. Tired of asking and not knowing, she went downstairs. Maybe she could walk off her restlessness.

It was nearly eleven and the house was quiet. Summer had long since gone to her room and Mara had been out with one of her male friends. Allison expected the family room to be dark, but several lights were on and she found Erica sitting by herself, a glass of wine on the coffee table.

In the second before the other woman noticed her, Allison had the thought that she looked sad and vulnerable. Two states of being that didn’t seem very Erica-like.

“You’re up late,” Erica said, reaching for her wine.

“I could say the same about you.”

“I’m dealing with life crap.”

“Me, too.” Allison sat on the sectional. “At least you get to distract yourself with liquor.”

“In a few weeks, you can, too.”

Allison shook her head. “I’m going to be breastfeeding, so no.”

Erica put down her wine. “Now I feel guilty.”

“Don’t. It’s not your fault. For Bethany, the sacrifice is worth it.”

“I would have said the same about Summer.” She eyed Allison. “Why aren’t you sleeping? Is it all about how far along you are or did something else happen?”

“There’s nothing new. Don’t worry, I’m not going to be asking for more money.” She grimaced. “Sorry. That came out more bitchy than I intended. It’s just...” She held in a sigh. “I can’t reconcile everything Peter did with the man I married. He told me he did it all for me. But I never wanted this and I was happy with what we had.”

She hesitated, not sure how much she could say, then told herself there was no point in having secrets from the one woman helping her.

“There was money. Some guy showed up and said he had money for me that Peter had asked him to hold. It was ten thousand dollars.”

Erica’s brows rose. “The money would have made you feel better but having someone show up to hand it to you? Disquieting at best.”

“He scared me.” Allison looked at her. “I didn’t tell you about it.”

“I know.”

“Aren’t you upset?”

“Not really. Your situation was desperate. You barely knew me and you didn’t trust me. Why would you share that?” She paused. “Oh, so that’s why you sold your ring. You already had part of the retainer. If you added in the five thousand I’d given you, plus the car, you might have made it.”

Her expression turned stern. “Forgive my French, but that’s a dumbass idea. You would have been left without a penny. I know you love your husband, but you have children to think about. You shouldn’t sacrifice yourself for him.”

“I know you’re right, but I’m not sure that’s how I feel. Everything about this is hard.” She felt her emotions slipping out of control and did her best to hang on. “You’ve told me you don’t want any more thanks, but I’m going to say it anyway. I’d be homeless if you hadn’t stepped in.”

Erica reached for her wine. “I’m glad I could help.” She paused. “Huh. I actually mean that.” She smiled briefly. “You’re my lone success these days. Well, you and work. But lately my interpersonal relationships keep taking hits.”

“What does that mean?”

Erica sipped from her glass. “Summer had a boyfriend last year and I didn’t know. She never said a word. She went through that entire experience without saying a word. She won’t even let me cut her hair. I can’t figure out if she genuinely doesn’t like me or if I’m the worst mother ever.”

Allison felt the other woman’s pain. “I’m sorry. That’s really hard.”

“Did you know?”

The question caught her off guard, which made her unsure of what to say. Unfortunately the silence was its own answer.

“You did.” Erica turned away. “I’m not even surprised.”

“No, it’s not like that. I just found out a few days ago. When it was happening, she didn’t say anything to me or her dad, either. She’s just being a teenager. It’s not as personal as you think.”

“Maybe, but it feels personal. I know she loves me but we’re not close in the way I had always hoped. She thinks my business is ridiculous. She doesn’t confide in me.”

“She told you about the boyfriend.”

“She wasn’t the one to tell me.” Erica laughed, but the sound was bitter. “It was those damned softball mothers.”

“Who?”

“The mothers of the other players on the team. Not all of them, but a few. The girls are tight, as well as the moms. They hang out and do things. They’re friends. It’s been going on for years now. They were at my Kirkland salon, having a girls’ day out. Afterward they insisted we get a drink. It was the middle of the day, but whatever. So we went for the drink and the whole story of Summer’s first boyfriend came out. It was humiliating.”

Not just that, Allison thought. Painful as well. Not only for Erica to learn about what she would see as her daughter’s rejection, but to hear it from women she obviously didn’t like.

“Why aren’t you part of the group?”

“When Summer first started playing, they asked me to join them for lunch or whatever but I’d just bought my fourth salon. I had Summer and Peter and couldn’t take off a few hours to go shopping.” She put down her glass. “I’m the only one with a career. Most of them don’t work, which is something I don’t get. They’re totally dependent on a man. But they don’t worry about that. Fools.”

She stood, weaving a little as she tried to stay upright. “Women need to learn to be independent. It’s dangerous to need a man or anyone really. People let you down. They suck you in, then they stab you in the back, telling you they don’t want you anymore. I hate that.”

She drew in a breath. “I’m going to bed.”

With that, she walked out of the family room. Allison lumbered to her feet, then carried the wineglass into the kitchen.

Obviously Erica had had more to drink than Allison had realized. The pain of the revelation about Summer had hit her hard. But it wasn’t just that, she thought. It was how Erica had sounded when she’d talked about being unable to join the other women. Oh, she’d dismissed them, but those words had come from a place of pain. She’d felt left out—with them and with her daughter.

Erica worked hard and took care of everyone around her. Family, her employees, even her ex-husband’s second wife. But who took care of her? Who had her back?

Killion seemed supportive but he was a man, and as such, he might not get the importance of female friendships. There were things women shared that guys just didn’t get. Erica was lonely. She needed a friend—a good friend—and that was something Allison knew she could be.

Erica walked into the kitchen close to eight at night, expecting to find it empty. Instead Allison sat at the table, her tablet open in front of her, a pad of paper next to it. She glanced from the screen to the paper and frantically scribbled notes.

“Hi,” Erica said, her voice coming out more weary than she expected.

It had been a long, complicated day. Her product order had been delayed, then what had arrived hadn’t been what had been ordered. A level-one stylist had dropped a bowl of hair bleach down the back of a client, effectively ruining a vintage Roberto Cavalli sweater that, based on a brief internet search, seemed irreplaceable. Why someone would wear something so precious to get her hair colored was beyond her, but the client had and now it was Erica’s expensive problem.

She still had a daughter who hadn’t bothered telling her when she’d had a boyfriend, and while she wanted nothing more than to call Killion and beg to curl up in his bed, preferably also in his arms, as he promised her everything would be all right, she couldn’t. Or rather, wouldn’t. She was stronger than that. She took care of herself and didn’t need a mere man to right her ship, or whatever the saying was.

“Hi, yourself.” Allison put down her pen and smiled at her. “How was your day?”

“Sucky.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing earth-shattering. Just a bunch of little things that piled up in what shouldn’t matter but does because there are too many of them.”

“Nibbled to death by ducks.” Allison shrugged. “My dad used to say that to me.”

“It’s a good enough description.”

Erica set her tote on the chair and unzipped her boots. She walked barefoot to the cupboard for a wineglass, then paused and thought maybe food was a better option. But the thought of pulling something together exhausted her.

“Sit,” Allison said in a surprisingly firm tone. She rose and pulled out a chair. “I’ll get you dinner.”

Erica stared at her in confusion. “You’re like a thousand weeks pregnant. You shouldn’t be on your feet.”

“I’m fine. It’s less than a yard from here to the counter. I’ll go slow. Summer and I made a chicken casserole. It’s good, but it has a lot of pasta in it, so we also made you a big salad. I knew you’d prefer that. Let me get it for you.”

Erica was too surprised to protest. She sank into the chair and watched as Allison pulled out a covered dish and a large bowl from the refrigerator. She put the covered dish into the microwave, then added dressing to the bowl and tossed the salad. After plating the salad, she grated a little cheese, then put it in front of Erica.

“Do you want wine? I think there’s a nice merlot in the rack.”

“Just water.”

Before Erica could add And I’ll get it, Allison was scurrying away. She returned with a large glass of ice water. When the microwave dinged, she took out the covered dish and scooped the contents onto another plate before setting that in front of Erica, as well. She poured some milk into a glass and brought it with her.

“I’m behind on dairy,” she explained as she resumed her seat, taking a sip and trying not to shudder.

Erica stared at her dinner. The salad was fresh, with several kinds of lettuce, along with kale, spinach and vegetables. There were sliced heirloom tomatoes on the side of the plate and a light dusting of parmesan to complement the balsamic vinaigrette.

She took a bite and realized she was starving. She ate nearly half the salad without stopping before turning to the creamy chicken pasta dish.

“How much of the cooking did Summer do?” she asked.

Allison grinned. “She refused to deal with the chicken carcass. Your mom stopped by with a couple of rotisserie chickens. She was keeping one for herself and offered us the other.” She lowered her voice. “I got the impression she would be having company tonight.”

“I’m not surprised. Lately she’s been out of the game. I’m sure her gentlemen friends miss her.” She nodded at the table. “What are you working on?”

Allison looked away, then back at her. She seemed to square her shoulders before speaking. “Taking your advice.”

“I don’t remember giving you advice.”

The smile returned. “It wasn’t directed at me, exactly. The other night you said you didn’t understand how the softball moms were so comfortable not having jobs. That they were completely dependent on their husbands and a divorce would leave them in financial trouble.”

Erica groaned. “I was ranting. Don’t listen to me.”

“Why not? You’re the smartest person I know. Look at the mess I’m in because of Peter. Not just him being in jail and the frozen bank accounts, but all of it. I have no skills. Not ones that can get me a good job. I worked part-time in a day care and a grocery store. I’ll have two kids to support. How am I supposed to find a job that allows me to cover day care and my monthly expenses?”

That job doesn’t exist.But Erica knew not to blurt out the depressing words. Allison already lived the dilemma of not being able to afford to work because day care cost as much as her paycheck.

The other woman nodded at her tablet. “I’ve been researching ways to earn money from home.”

“Don’t fall for one of those envelope-stuffing scams. No one uses direct mail anymore. We all advertise online.”

“I was thinking more customer service, either by chat or phone. I was doing research and a lot of them have their employees take calls from home. I could work nights while the kids sleep.”

“When would you sleep?” Erica asked dryly.

“I’d work it out.”

“It’s a short-term solution. Eventually you’d crash.” She paused, wondering if Allison was figuring at some point Peter would get out of jail and join her.

Now there was an uncomfortable thought. Peter was married to Allison so if he got out of jail, he would expect to live with her. Here. In Erica’s house.

She had the brief thought that she should have accepted that glass of merlot, then sighed. There was no point in worrying about that before it happened. Right now Peter’s bail was set at a million dollars. No way Erica was putting up her house as collateral and she didn’t think Peter knew anyone else with those kinds of assets.

“You need a plan,” she said, returning to the topic at hand. “Goals. I think the idea of a call center is—” Well, duh.

“What?” Allison asked. “Are you all right?”

“I’m a moron.”

“Hardly.”

Erica rubbed the bridge of her nose. “No, I mean it. I’m so stupid. I have a call center and the employees work from home.” She paused. “Okay, there’s a couple of weeks of training, then four weeks of supervised working from the Bellevue store, but then you work from home. The job starts at twenty-seven dollars an hour and the shifts are six hours.” She looked at Allison. “I have no idea what a babysitter costs these days but I’m sure my mom could take a few hours and I could tell Summer it’s part of her summer job.”

Allison turned away. “Stop. You’re not offering me a job.”

“Why not? It’s exactly what you were talking about doing. Why not do it for me?”

“Because you’ve already done too much. With you, I’m a permanent mercy case and that’s not who I am.”

The other woman’s distress was palpable. Erica lightly touched her hand. “You’re dealing with a truckload of shit that isn’t your fault. Maybe I started out helping because Summer guilted me into it, but this is different. I think you should take the job.”

“Do you even have any openings?”

Erica smiled. “The call center is down by two. We’re about to lose a receptionist, which sucks because I always want to inspire those young women to go to beauty school, then come back and grow into stardom. I need a couple of level-three stylists, one in Issaquah and one in Bellevue, but those are the hardest positions to fill. My operations clerk is about to get her second warning, so we’ll be replacing her soon. The cleaning staff is never a problem because Francis runs a tight ship. So yes, I do know if we have any openings in the call center.”

Allison stared at her. “Holy crap. You know everything.”

“No one will ever love my business more than me. Training is online but happens in the salon. You’ll be paid for your time and I’ll cover Jackson’s day care. If you’re interested.”

She eyed Allison’s huge belly. “If we hurry, you could finish before you go into labor. You in?”

“I would genuinely be living in the gutter if it weren’t for you.”

“Don’t be dramatic. You’d be in a shelter. No one lives in the gutter.”

Allison laughed. “Fair. I’ll owe you forever, but I can’t help it. The job is perfect. Thank you. When does training start?”

“I’ll let you know tomorrow.”