Chapter 35
SUMMER
My car is packed with all of my important stuff as I start the long journey ahead. I had gotten rid of most of my furniture and am hoping to buy some new pieces from thrift shops near my new apartment.
Milo is yowling her displeasure from the passenger seat. “I hate to break this to you,” I mutter. “But it’s going to be a long drive.”
I try to adjust the AC to make the ride as bearable as possible for her, and I make sure the radio is low so it doesn’t agitate her. I feed her a treat through the grate of her carrier to butter her up a bit, but she continues glaring at me as she crunches the treat between her teeth.
Trees pass by in a blur as I get on the highway. My eyes keep drifting to my rear-view mirror and what I’m leaving behind, and I have to peel them away so that I can focus on the road in front of me.
Another unpleasant meow rattles my eardrums. “I feel the same way,” I grumble at her.
Not even an hour passes before I take a deep breath and call someone I’ve been terrified to speak to since I decided to leave Cascadia University. I know this will be the hardest conversation I’ve had all week, but I can’t leave state lines without having it.
My mother answers on the fourth ring. I know she keeps her phone near her at all times, so her taking so long to answer is her proving a point.
“Summer?”
“Hi, Mom. I, uh, have something I need to tell you.”
“What is it?” she asks, no emotion in her voice, though I can tell her curiosity is piqued.
“I transferred,” I blurt out. She can freak out and yell, and then I can hang up and end this conversation as quickly as possible.
“What? What do you mean?”
“I transferred to the Monterey Bay Institute of Psychology.”
“Why would you do that? You were almost done!” she exclaims.
“I know. I know. It’s a long story that I really don’t have the energy to get into with you right now. I’ve made all the arrangements and can make the move on my own. I was just calling to tell you the decision I’d made.”
“Summer—” she starts, but I cut her off.
“I don’t want to argue, Mom,” I sigh, and she must hear the exhaustion in my voice because she stops.
“I’ll get a job once I’m settled down there.
You won’t have to help with tuition, transfer fees, or anything like that.
I know we haven’t been on the best of terms since Thanksgiving, and I want you to know that I don’t expect anything from you. ”
“Summer.” I can hear the hurt in her voice, and a small pang hits my heart.
“I want to help. I want to understand why you’re making these choices, but more importantly, I want you to feel safe telling me these things.
Not telling me after everything is all said and done.
I could’ve helped you with this. Whether it was helping work out a different solution or helping you move. ”
Hot tears drip down my face, and I quickly rub them away even though she can’t see me. “I’m sorry, Mom.”
“Oh, honey,” she sighs. “I’m sorry for my behavior over Thanksgiving. Any excuse I have for not wanting your life to end up like mine… well, it doesn’t matter. I should have respected your wishes, and I should’ve reached out to you afterward.”
Tears start to blur my vision, and I signal to pull over to the side of the highway. “It was because of a boy,” I choke out, sounding like a pathetic teenager instead of a full-fledged adult.
“I didn’t know you were seeing anyone,” she says quietly.
“It’s a long story,” I sniff. “I shouldn’t have been seeing him, and I knew that, but I did it anyway.”
“He wasn’t married, was he?”
“Mother!” I give a shocked laugh through my tears.
“I just had to check!”
“No, he wasn’t married. But it’s a long story, and it’s over now. And I thought it’d be easier than this. I thought I could walk away and not look back, that I wouldn’t want to be selfish. But it hurts so bad,” I cry.
“I know it does, and I wish I could tell you when it’ll get better, but I can’t answer that for you. However, I do know that it will get better; it just may take some time.”
I scrub at the tears on my cheeks before responding. “I just need to pull myself together.” I take a shaky breath. “I need to calm down so that I can get back on the road and get this drive over with.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to come home?” she asks quietly. “And this isn’t me trying to lure you back home or anything,” she hastily adds. “I’m just worried about you, Summer. Do you really think moving to a new town out of state all alone is going to be good for you?”
“I just think this is something that I need to do,” I answer softly.
There’s a beat of silence before she says, “Okay. You can always come back home if you need to… or I can come to you if you need any help getting settled or just… any help at all.”
A warm feeling spreads across my chest at her words. My mother has always asked that I go to her; the fact that she’s offering to come to me—multiple states away—is huge. “Thanks, Mom,” I whisper.
“Are you trying to make the entire drive today? Or are you stopping somewhere along the way for the night?”
“I’m stopping at a hotel a little over halfway,” I assure her. “They’re pet-friendly, so I don’t have to worry about Milo.”
“I’m glad you’re not by yourself, Summer.”
Despite her words… I’ve never felt so alone.
Two Weeks Later
I’m sitting on a bench in the town of Carmel-By-The-Sea, across the street from Sweet Dreams Bakery. Juliet’s bakery.
The sun is shining, heat radiates off the sidewalk, and I have to wear sunglasses just so my eyes won’t water. I can smell the sugar and baked goods from across the street, and my stomach grumbles in protest.
Just go in. Just go in and buy a cupcake and act like everything hasn’t fallen apart since the last time you saw her.
My stomach rumbles in encouragement.
Juliet’s bakery is one of the cutest buildings on the block.
The outside is painted the lightest, most delicate shade of cream, like the sand as the sun sets.
The trim is painted a cerulean blue, the color of the sea when the sun is high in the sky.
A sign above the shop reads ‘Sweet Dreams Bakery’ and a colorful chalkboard outside states that today’s special is red velvet cupcakes.
I can see cakes, loaves of bread, and pastries through the windows.
Juliet stands behind a light wooden counter by a display case filled with cupcakes.
She talks animatedly to a pair of parents and their small child.
Her dark hair is in two braids, and she flicks her bangs away from her eyes as she talks.
She’s wearing a light blue apron with the bakery’s logo on it, over a white T-shirt and jeans.
She laughs at something the mother says to her, and seeing her that happy… Well, I can’t drag her down with all my baggage. She doesn’t owe me anything. She doesn’t even know me. She won’t want to chat with the girl who ghosted her brother after nearly costing him his career.
I can’t believe I’m here. What was I thinking? What do I expect?
To waltz up to Asher’s sister’s business, knock on the door, and demand to be friends so that I can hear about him in passing? Or in the hopes that one day I’ll see him again through her?
Alright, so maybe both ideas crossed my mind, but I will not act on them.
I just want to be in a place where we were happy.
I want to lie on the beach and think about how we swam in the ocean and watched the sunset.
I want to walk down the storybook-themed streets and remember the warm feeling of his hand in mine.
I want to be around the one place where we didn’t have to hide how we felt about each other.
And maybe I really do want more of Juliet’s cupcakes. Sue me.
I can feel the beginning sting of tears, and I take a deep breath, willing them away. I’m sure I’ll cry at some point on this ridiculous impromptu trip, but I can’t start this early.
I push myself to my feet, prepared to dash back to my car when Juliet glances out the window. Her dark eyes meet mine and light up in recognition before squinting in confusion.
I dart away despite being caught. I’ve only made it a few feet before I hear Juliet calling my name.
I stop and slowly look over my shoulder, knowing that if I ignore her, it’ll just make everything even more awkward than it already is. She’s leaning out the door of her bakery, the family she’d been speaking with walking up the block behind her.
“Summer?” she says my name again, her eyebrows furrowed. “What are you doing here?”
I shove some flyaway strands of hair behind my ear as I walk toward her. I check both ways before crossing the street and stop in front of her. “I don’t know,” I respond with a shrug. That’s the best I can do.
She purses her lips before giving me a small smile. “Come inside.” She doesn’t wait for a response, just turns on her heel and waltzes back into the bakery.
I follow along behind her, and the smell of baked goods is significantly stronger here, causing my stomach to riot in protest that I haven’t already grabbed the nearest piece of bread and stuffed it into my face.
I rub the back of my neck while Juliet turns to me and leans against the counter, crossing her arms as she waits for me to explain my sudden appearance at her place of work.
I look around the bakery, too anxious to meet her inquiring gaze.
The walls are a light shade of blue, the color of the sky right as the sun disappears but before the stars start to show.
The hardwood floors are a pale, sun-bleached brown; there’s a mural on one wall depicting beautiful waves crashing against golden sand beneath a breathtaking starry night, with a crescent moon high in the corner.
I don’t remember the mural being there when Asher and I visited.
“That’s beautiful,” I murmur.
She glances toward the painting before looking back at me. “Thanks, a friend painted it.”