For the Love of Summer

Chapter 26

Allison spent her break with Emmy, the salon’s general manager. They’d hit it off the first day of training.

“Not every salon has the training programs that we offer here,” Emmy said as they sat in the break room. “Beauty school teaches a lot, but most graduates need real world experience. We pair our graduates with a mentor and offer additional training. How long varies from department to department.”

Allison sipped her mug of warm water and wished her feet weren’t so swollen. But she was too far along to expect to be comfortable.

“There’s also ongoing training for all departments,” Emmy continued. “Our suppliers bring classes to us or offer slots for classes they’re teaching elsewhere. We can also earn slots through product sales and contests.”

“There’s a lot more to running a salon than I’d realized,” Allison admitted.

“If we were just doing hair, it would be easier, but we’re running a spa as well.”

One that was always busy, Allison thought. She knew that from both the calls she was taking and the number of cars in the parking lot.

“I like the program that helps new employees get established,” she said. Clients who went with someone new got their service at a discount, regardless of the department.

“Erica believes that well-trained employees are happier and clients are more satisfied.”

“You like working for her.”

“I do.” Emmy grinned. “I wanted to beg for the job when I interviewed here three years ago, but I did my best to play it cool. I was coming from another salon. Nothing this big or well-run. Erica has a reputation in the industry. She has high standards, but she treats her employees fairly and pays them well. Just as important, she gives them the tools to succeed.”

“She’s an amazing woman.” One Allison had grown to admire. Not just because Erica had rescued her but because of how she lived her life.

“Are you thinking of switching careers?” Emmy asked.

The unexpected question caught Allison off guard. “What do you mean?”

“You’re interested in the business. I wondered if you’d like to be a part of it.”

She hesitated. “I’ve toyed with the idea,” she admitted. “Not doing hair. I think that’s a bit like being an artist. I don’t know that I have the talent. But I wonder about being an esthetician. Everyone feels so much better after a facial.”

Emmy nodded. “It takes about seven hundred and fifty class hours and eight hundred apprenticeship hours to be licensed in our state. If you’re serious, I can connect you with admissions at the local school we prefer.”

Allison thought about how she didn’t have any money for something like beauty school. Even if she got a scholarship, what would she do with her kids?

“I think I need to have Bethany first,” she said lightly. “Then I’ll look at my options.”

Emmy eyed her huge belly. “I agree. Newborns take precedence. But I would encourage you to think about being an esthetician. You have a good personality for it. You’re friendly, smart and just nurturing enough for clients to feel comfortable.”

The kind words were unexpected. Allison wanted to ask how Emmy could be so sure about her. They barely knew each other. Then she reminded herself to accept the compliment graciously. Having a breakdown would be so awkward for them both.

Erica walked directly from the garage to her mother’s carriage house. Two hours earlier she’d gotten a cryptic Come see me before you go into the house text from Mara.

She knocked once, then opened the front door. “It’s me. What’s going on?”

Her mother walked in from the kitchen, her normally happy expression tight and worried.

“Something’s going on with Summer. When she got home from school, she was upset. She tried to say she was fine, but I don’t believe her. Allison doesn’t know anything, either. We decided not to push and let you deal with it.”

Erica didn’t understand. “She was fine two days ago when we went shopping and yesterday after the game. She was her normal self all evening and this morning at breakfast. Something must have happened at school. I’ll talk to her.”

“It might be nothing.”

Erica shook her head. “Mom, you know your granddaughter. If you’re worried, I’m worried. I’ll let you know what she says.”

She entered the house through the garage, as always. A thousand thoughts—none of them good—swirled through her brain. What could have happened? She didn’t think it had anything to do with a guy and she doubted Summer would be so withdrawn if she’d had a car accident.

“It’s me,” she called, careful to keep her voice cheerful. It was still early and Jackson would be awake.

Sure enough, fast footsteps thumped on the hardwood floor as he flew toward her, arms outstretched.

“Rika! Rika!”

She swooped him up and nuzzled his neck. “How are you, little man? Did you have a wonderful day?”

He giggled and gave her a kiss on the cheek, then began to babble about maybe a puzzle or a book.

“Is that what happened? Were you okay with it?”

He beamed at her, then dropped his head to her shoulder. Erica turned to Allison.

“You okay?”

The other woman frowned. “I’m fine. Why?”

“Worry isn’t good for you. You’re getting bigger by the day and the last thing you need is one more stressor.”

“I’m not stressed. I’m concerned. She was so quiet when she came home from school.” Allison twisted her hands together. “No, it was worse than that. She came straight home. She didn’t stay to talk to her friends or go to practice. She was here by two-fifty. That never happens. She barely said hello to Jackson, then she locked herself in her room. She won’t tell me anything. She says she’s fine.”

Allison shook her head. “I didn’t want to push her too hard, so I texted Mara. She couldn’t get anything out of her, either. She looks okay, so I don’t think it’s anything physical.”

“I’ll talk to her.”

Erica handed back Jackson, then went upstairs. She quickly changed into jeans and a sweater, then knocked on her daughter’s closed bedroom door.

“It’s me,” she called.

“The door’s open.”

She found her daughter lying on her back, staring at the ceiling. Her backpack was sitting, unopened, by Jackson’s crib. Erica sat down on the bed.

“Hey. What’s going on?”

Summer opened an app on her phone and then turned it toward Erica.

Guess who’s a jailbird?

The fancy font covered a photoshopped picture of Summer’s face on a dancing crow. The bird was behind bars.

Erica scrolled through the posts. There were mean comments about criminals running in families and accusations of Summer stealing a car. Someone had posted Peter’s arrest warrant. Several videos had the song “Bad Boys” playing in the background.

Erica’s stomach immediately clenched. With everything going on with Allison and what to do about her situation, she’d somehow forgotten about Summer. In this digital age, nothing was private—certainly not in a high school. She should have helped prepare her for when the information inevitably came out.

“Oh, sweetie, I’m so sorry.”

Summer rolled on her side, facing her. “It’s not that bad,” she whispered. “I know some kids have it worse. But it’s never been me before. I’m not super popular, which means I don’t get a lot of attention. Sometimes people get on the whole softball team if we’re losing and I’ve been called out for missing a catch, but that’s easy, you know.”

She blinked away tears. “This is about my life and my dad. I didn’t realize what was happening for a while. I walked into class and I could hear ‘Bad Boys’ on someone’s phone, but I didn’t think it was for me. Not until Avery showed me. By then it was everywhere.”

She rolled on her back and wiped away tears. “It’s not a lot of kids. My friends are totally supportive. I know they’ll be there, but people I don’t know are saying things and posting things. I’m so ashamed.”

Erica stretched out next to her and took her hand. “This sucks. I’m sorry. I should have realized word would get out. When I was in high school, you could go home and forget about it. The worst that happened were some prank calls. With social media, there’s no escape.”

Summer shifted close, put her head on Erica’s shoulder and started to cry. “They’re so mean and they’re saying stuff about my dad.”

Erica stroked her back, her heart breaking for her daughter’s pain. “I know.”

“It’s so personal. Why do they care? The kids that are doing this don’t even know me. Why does my life matter?”

“They’re small people with small lives. They’ve decided it’s fun to torture other people. It’s a game to them. They’re too self-absorbed to know or care they’re hurting other people. What they think of you isn’t who you are. You’re stronger than they are.”

“I don’t feel very strong.”

“I know. We can talk to the administra—”

Summer sat up. “No! We’re not escalating this. No meetings. I don’t want to make it bigger. If someone had hit me or something, I would be all in on grinding them to dust, but this isn’t that. You’re right—this is a game to them. I can either do it better than them and be a total troll on social media or I can pretend to not care.”

“Do you want to be a total troll? No offense, but I doubt your techie skills are up to it. But we could ask Killion. He probably knows a guy.”

That earned her a faint smile. “I’m sure he does. And I thought about it. I nearly texted him earlier.”

Summer wiped away more tears. “Like I said, it’s never been about me. Except for my circle of friends, I’m pretty much ignored. Some kids are bullied constantly. We all see it. There’s this one girl.” She shrugged. “We let her eat lunch with us when she wants. Not really brave, huh? But it’s something. I just didn’t know it could happen to me.”

Erica struggled to find the right words to help her daughter. She was grateful Summer didn’t want to go the revenge route. Erica would be thrilled to see those kids’ social lives destroyed but it wasn’t exactly the mature response. In this neighborhood, this school district, not a lot of fathers went to jail. It was news. Torturing Summer because of it was simply what teens did. It wasn’t right, but she was more concerned about her daughter’s feelings and mental health.

“So no going to the administration,” she said lightly, just to confirm.

“The videos are stupid and I never stole a car, but aside from that, they aren’t lying. Dad really is in jail and I guess he did those things. I don’t want to get into a big deal about bullying. I’ll deal.”

Brave words, Erica thought. But hard to execute.

“What does ‘dealing’ mean?” she asked. “This is painful. You need a plan.”

“You and your plans.”

“You’re going to school every day. You have a couple more games. You drive your own car so you don’t have to worry about something happening on the bus or while walking home. If one of them showed up here, your grandmother would so take them on.”

Summer managed a faint smile. “They’re not coming to the house, Mom. Their world is online. They’ll post mean memes. Then they’ll move on to another victim.”

She drew in a breath. “I think I’m okay at the games. The last two are away ones. My team will be there.”

“As will I and the other moms. We’ll look out for you.”

“I know and I’m grateful. School’s a drag, but there’s nothing to do. They don’t want the teachers finding out, so they won’t be obvious. I guess I just have to get through it.”

Erica tapped her daughter’s phone. “You could stop looking at this so much.”

Summer stared at her. “I’m not giving up my phone.”

“No one’s saying you should. But maybe a little less time on it. Turn off notifications. Stop scrolling a couple of hours before bed so the bad stuff isn’t in your head. Start looking at videos of puppies and kittens.”

“Then I’ll want a dog.”

“I’d rather fight with you about getting a dog than see you so unhappy.” Erica cupped her face. “You’re my best girl. I’d do anything for you.”

“I know. Thanks, Mom. This totally sucks.”

“It does. I really want to do something to those kids.”

Summer drew back. “But you won’t, right? Having one parent in jail is enough for me.”

Erica smiled. “I promise to be lawful in every way, but I will hate them in my heart.”

“Thank you.”

Erica glanced at the clock. “It’s nearly seven. Want to go downstairs and get something to eat?”

Summer perked up a little. “Grandma ordered in Italian but I wasn’t hungry. Lasagna sounds really good.”

“Is there garlic bread?”

Summer grinned. “Mom, Grandma placed the order. There’s everything.”

Allison tried to watch Summer without making it obvious. The teen seemed in better spirits. She was talking and laughing with only a faint hint of wariness in her eyes. But about twenty minutes into the meal she realized that Summer had left her phone upstairs.

Allison held in a sigh, thinking she’d never seen Summer without her phone nearby. It was practically a new limb for her. Erica was firm—dinner was family time. During those meals, her phone was usually on the big island, where its regular beeps and tones would cause her to glance at it longingly. Annoying but normal.

But not tonight.

Allison didn’t know the kids who were bothering her, but she wished she could confront them. She wasn’t sure what she would say, or why her opinion would matter, but she burned with a need to do something.

Some of that energy came from her affection for Summer and the natural worry the situation created, but some came from guilt. The teen was suffering because of Peter’s actions.

She tried not to let her discomfort show. She was friendly, joining in the conversation. It was only when Summer retreated upstairs that she turned to Erica.

“This is Peter’s fault. If he hadn’t been so selfish and stupid, none of this would have happened.”

Erica raised her eyebrows. “I agree that this is on him, but what’s happening with Summer seems like the least of his sins.”

“How can you say that? She’s his child. Did he ever once think about how this would affect her? He says he loves her, then he commits a bunch of crimes and goes to jail.”

“I doubt jail was one of the goals.” Erica studied her. “You’re really upset about Summer.”

“Of course. This is horrible. We have to do something. Talk to the school or those kids’ parents. And I’m going to put this all on Peter when I next see him.”

Erica motioned to the family room sofa. “Waddle over there and have a seat.”

“I don’t waddle.”

“Want me to take a video? Regardless of how you get there, you need to get off your feet. You’re so huge, it’s painful to look at you.”

“Imagine how it feels from this end, and don’t try to distract me. Someone needs to suffer.” She collapsed in a chair.

Erica’s expression remained calm. “While you and Summer were heating dinner, I scanned the school’s bullying standards. I don’t think what they’re doing qualifies. Are the memes awful and mean? Yes. But unless this continues for weeks or they get worse, I don’t think talking to the administration is the right thing to do. Mostly because Summer doesn’t want it.”

“But she’s in pain.”

“She is, but she’s tough and she has a lot of support. We’ll both keep an eye on her, as will my mom. If I think for one second she’s hiding something from me, I’ll call her on it. We can be on alert, but I think fire-bombing someone’s house is a little extreme.”

“I never suggested that,” Allison grumbled. “That’s going too far.”

“I’m glad you think so.” Erica’s glance fell to her belly. “About the childbirth classes...”

“No.” If Allison could have jumped to her feet for emphasis, she would have. “Stop talking about it.”

“One of us has to.”

“Yes, and you’ve decided that’s you. It’s not your problem. I’m fine.”

Two days ago Erica had suddenly started going on and on about Allison going to a childbirth class, which was ridiculous.

“I remember everything I’m supposed to do,” she said sharply. “Jackson was born less than two years ago. It’s not like anything has changed.”

“Why are you being difficult? You need a refresher course and you need a coach. You can’t have the baby alone.”

Words Erica no doubt meant to be helpful but every one of them felt like a slap.

“Would you get out of my business, please? I know I owe you, but I don’t want to talk about this. No. Just no.”

“I can see this conversation is upsetting you,” Erica began.

“Oh, can you? How perceptive.”

“You’re in a mood.”

“And you’re not listening. We are not having this conversation. It’s none of your business.”

“You’re having a baby. You need to take a class and—”

“I’m not taking a damned class,” Allison shouted. “Not by myself and not with a friend. Peter is my husband, this is his baby and he needs to be there.”

Erica stared at her wide-eyed. “He can’t be. He’s in jail.”

“I’m incredibly aware of that, but thank you for reminding me. Yes, my husband, the father of my child, is in jail, so he can’t go with me. I will not walk into a class and have to explain where he is. I’m having a felon’s baby. I’m not proud of that, but it’s what’s happening.” She pointed at her belly. “This is a felon’s baby.”

Erica shrugged. “You probably shouldn’t put that on a T-shirt.”

Allison stared at her, prepared to tell her off for being so insensitive. But instead of yelling, she found herself laughing. It started with a little uncontrollable giggle, then grew. The more she laughed, the more she wanted to give in to the humor. In the back of her mind, she was braced for the tears that would inevitably follow, but for a few glorious seconds, she just laughed.

Erica watched her warily. When the chuckles had faded, she asked, “Are you having a breakdown? Should I call 911?”

“Shut up. I’m fine.” She drew in a breath. “No birthing classes. I’m not doing it.”

“It’s your decision. Just don’t blame me when you forget what to do.”