5. Summer
CHAPTER 5
Summer
I close the door behind Ryan and fan myself, despite the cool temperature outside. God he’s hot . I know a crush on him would be useless right now. I have way too much going on, and from the sound of it, he does as well.
I sigh and return to my newest book boyfriend, Raj. Tall, dark, handsome, and most importantly, fictional. Raj won’t be breaking my heart any time soon. I blush just thinking about the scene I was reading when Ryan came down the hallway. Raj was just about to have a very interesting meal. I snicker at myself before avidly returning to the scene, getting lost in a romance that isn’t my own.
I’m so immersed in the book that I get completely startled when my best friend Stephanie texts me.
Steph:
Hey girl! How was the first solo night?
It was alright. Weird, and I miss Emma already, but I did it.
Proud of you. Do you want some company tomorrow night? We can binge Gilmore Girls.
It’s not even fall yet! You can’t watch GG any other time of year.
Yeah, but it’s your comfort show. You’re sad, so screw the rules. It’ll make you happy.
I’ll bring wine and chocolate.
Say less. Come over at 6? We can do dinner too.
Perf!
I smile as I set my phone down—Steph always knows how to cheer me up. She’s been by my side since we were ten years old. Her family moved to Lakeland from Washington the summer before 5th grade. We got seated next to each other in Mrs. Alvarez’s class, and she complimented my fuzzy pencil case. We’ve been inseparable ever since. Not even a teen pregnancy got between us. I’m thankful for her. Aside from Emma, she’s the only family I have left around here.
After work the next day, I make a stop at the local supermarket to grab some essentials for my Gilmore Girls marathon with Steph. Namely, junk food to eat in keeping with Rory and Lorelei. I grab pastries, popcorn, candy, and ice cream before browsing the fresh produce aisle. I decide to make a good salad for lunch tomorrow because I know my stomach will be protesting all the sweets if I don’t.
I’m prodding the heirloom tomatoes when I hear, “Mommy!” I look over my shoulder and see Emma bounding toward me, the heels of her rain boots making loud clip-clops against the concrete floor.
“Emma!” I reply with the same level of enthusiasm. I set my grocery basket down and bend to scoop her up. Her little legs go around my middle and I hug her tight. I breathe in her scent: Apple shampoo, sweet-scented lotion, and sweat from the school day. “Hi, baby girl. How was your day? Where’s Dad?”
“Daddy is getting us chicken for dinner tonight. I saw you and he told me I could say hi.”
She looks down—a maneuver I know means she’s fibbing. But before I can ask, I see a harried-looking Jared appear from one of the aisles. His head is whipping around frantically. “Jared!” I call, waving him over. Relief washes his face clear of the stress that had been there moments before.
“Oh, thank god.” He makes his way to us and scolds, “Emma Marie Forrester! You scared me half to death. No running off without telling me where you’re going!” He bends over, hands to his knees, and blows out a breath. Emma hides in my neck, clutching me closer.
I gently pull her back and look at her contrite face. “Emma, you lied to me and said your dad knew where you were. That is not okay. Next time, you tell the adult you’re with where you’re going. It’s not safe for you to run off.”
“Sorry, Mommy. Sorry, Daddy. I just got real excited when I saw you. I wasn’t running off ‘cause I was coming to you, Mommy,” she explains, tears welling in her eyes.
“Yes. But, Emma, I didn’t know you were with Mommy. We both have to know where you are. It helps keep you safe,” Jared says gently, much more calm than before.
“I’m sorry!” She cries, fat tears rolling down her cheeks. On instinct, Jared and I both hug her. She’s sandwiched between the two of us, Jared’s arms around Emma and me while I’m supporting her weight. Over Jared’s shoulder, I notice Ryan pushing a half-full shopping cart and looking at the watermelons. I meet his eye and he gives me a wave and a small smile that looks nothing like the wide grin he gave me yesterday.
I pull my eyes away from him and disentangle myself from the hug, setting Emma back on her feet. I squat down to her height, cupping her soft cheeks in my hands. “It’s okay, Emma. Now you know what to do if something like this ever happens again, right? You tell the adult you’re with where you’re going. Always.” She nods and sniffles. I glance back to where Ryan was standing and find an older woman in his place.
“Alright, Emma, come on, let’s go get our rotisserie chicken for dinner.” Jared puts a hand on her shoulder. I nod at him before pulling Emma in for a quick hug and kiss her cheek. They head off through the sparse crowd in the direction of the deli. I feel a pang of longing as I watch them walk away. It still doesn’t feel real that I have to go days without seeing my daughter in person.
I do my best to shake off the sadness, pick up my basket, and rush to grab the rest of what I need. I don’t want to be late and leave Steph hanging outside my house. I set my basket on the belt of the checkout line and put down the divider before grabbing an extra bag of spicy chips off the rack for Stephanie.
A velvety, slightly rough voice says behind me, “Your daughter is adorable. How old is she?”
I turn to find Ryan in line, unloading his groceries on the belt. “Thank you. She’s six,” I say, perusing the gum and candy above the belt to avoid meeting his eye. I don’t know how to talk to him when we aren’t working. Those other situations have a script. I know what I’m supposed to say, how I’m supposed to behave. When he talks to me like this, I feel like an actor thrust on stage who forgot her lines and doesn’t know what to do with her hands. To keep mine busy, I grab a pack of gum for Sherry. It’s always better to be on her good side and small gifts are a worthy sacrifice.
“So, was that the ex?” he asks casually, his eyes on the groceries he’s lining up on the belt. I note that he’s purchasing my favorite snack, sea salt kettle chips, and am strangely pleased to see we have something in common.
“Yeah, that’s Jared,” I say, while we both step forward in line as the customer ahead of us loads her bags and heads out.
“Hi, how are you, Anthony?” I greet the cashier. Anthony has the sort of face where you can’t tell his age. Around the holidays when the store gets busier, he could be in his sixties, but tonight when he can work at a leisurely pace, he might be just past his prime. He’s been working here since I was a kid, so he feels a little bit like an honorary uncle with how often I see him and the fact that he’s watched me grow up.
“Hey, Summer. Can’t complain,” he replies. “What’s this I hear about you and Jared?” I roll my eyes. Cashiers are just as nosy as bank tellers.
“We broke up. It’s fairly new, but we’re doing okay,” I decide to reply. Even though I hate how everyone feels entitled to your business in Lakeland, I’d rather be the one telling the story. That way, an accurate retelling is at least possible if not entirely probable.
“I’m sorry to hear that. You two made a good couple. High school sweethearts and all that. Cute kid too,” he continues, scanning my items with the sort of rote efficiency that comes from working the same job for a long time. This news will be all over town by the end of the week. People have already noticed that I haven’t been wearing my engagement ring for the last six months. I’ve had more than a few comments from customers at the bank asking if I was getting it cleaned or if it had gotten lost.
I make a noncommittal noise, because really? What do you say to someone rooting for a relationship that’s been unofficially over for years? “Uh, thanks, Anthony.” I pay the total and grab the two grocery bags before heading toward the door.
“Summer, wait up!” Ryan calls. I pause just inside the door, feeling my face flame as Anthony’s eyes go back and forth between Ryan and myself, an eyebrow raised. Great. Another thing to add to the rumors. ‘Hot guy harassing the local, newly-single mother.’
After paying for his groceries, he pushes his cart toward me. “You can throw your bags in here,” he says, pointing to his cart. I place them inside with a questioning look. “Can I walk you out? It's starting to get dark,” he explains. I turn my eyes to the nearly black sky outside and realize he’s right. Even though Lakeland is a relatively safe town, it’s still smart to be careful.
I smile and say, “Thanks. My car is right over there,” I gesture to my red Honda on the far side of the parking lot. I pull my hood up to keep the rain off my face, and we start heading toward my car. Luckily, the rain has slowed to a drizzle, so we aren’t getting completely soaked.
“You really parked all the way over there? There’s hardly even lights over there, Summer! That’s not safe,” he says, playfully exasperated with me.
“I’m a grown woman, Ryan. The parking lot was packed when I got here.” I reply, hoping he can somehow hear my massive eye roll, since he can’t see my face. “Why are you so concerned about me anyway?” We reach my car and I pop the trunk.
“I’m not.” He sighs, lifting his hat to scratch through his dark waves before plopping it back on backward, “I mean… I’m not concerned about you. I just want you to be safe.”
I tilt my head and say, “That’s the same thing.”
“I’d do this for any woman,” he counters, batting my hands out of the way so he can grab my bags and place them in the trunk for me. “It’s par for the course when you grow up with a little sister who likes to get into trouble.” The comment stings even though it shouldn’t. A small part of me hoped he was interested in me.
“And do you flirt with every woman too?” The question is out before I can stop myself. I meant for it to be playful, but when it leaves my lips it sounds accusatory. I mentally facepalm .
Way to play it cool, Summer.
“What? No. That’s not who I am at all.” Ryan shakes his head, closing my trunk.
“So, you don’t frequently throw compliments at every woman you meet?” I ask skeptically.
“Only pretty bank tellers,” he says with a smirk while I roll my eyes, fighting my own smile. A part of me thinks he could just be teasing me, like the kind that happens between friends and nothing more. He searches my face and continues, “Seriously, Summer. I don’t flirt with every woman I meet. I just can’t seem to help myself with you.” He rakes his teeth over his lower lip and shrugs, as if to dismiss his admission.
“Well, thanks,” I say, blushing. “Not for the flirting, for walking me to my car,” I blurt. My face flames a yet undiscovered shade of red.
Now would be a great time for one of those alien abductions to happen to me.
I walk quickly toward my driver's side door and pop it open. Before I can make my escape, his large hand holds the door, practically caging me in. My breath catches as he bends at the waist, his face suddenly much closer. I look into his eyes and am momentarily mesmerized by their startling green color and his thick, sooty lashes.
“You’re welcome. For both,” he says, those eyes twinkling with mirth. The spearmint on his breath fills my lungs, and for a crazed moment, I want to lean in and taste it for myself. “I’ll see you Saturday?” He leans back, giving me room and I feel my sanity return.
Did I really almost kiss him? Am I insane?
“Yeah, Saturday,” I reply, trying to regain control of myself. Ryan shuts my door before stepping back. I peel my eyes away from him and start my car. He moves himself and the cart to the side, waving to me as I pull out. I wave back, excitement taking flight in my chest. Saturday.