Chapter 8
SUMMER
“What is it?” Julia asks as I stare at the open Idaho Central app on my phone.
Seventeen hundred dollars I don’t want.
“It’s my first alimony payment,” I tell her.
You’ll get thirty percent of his salary for the next three years, my attorney explained after our uncontested divorce was finalized last week.
It feels like an allowance from my ex, and I want nothing to do with it.
But I don’t really have a choice at this point.
I still don’t have a job, and after the apartments I looked into yesterday, seventeen hundred dollars is barely enough to cover rent for a studio in this city.
“Sum, you can stay here as long as you want—I told you that.”
I could have moved back to California. As the hub of the entertainment industry, being an entrepreneur in Los Angeles is admired.
Take my mother, Nina. She’s spent her career as a freelance writer for Vogue magazine.
I won best dressed in high school after patterning my wardrobe off her columns.
Even my dad, George, understands the hustle of business.
He’s worked his way up the ladder at Vivint Smart Home and went from selling security systems to becoming the regional manager with multiple territories.
They’ve always supported everything I’ve wanted to do with my life, and that includes this.
Respecting my decision that moving home would mean living with them for a while—something I haven’t done since high school and that feels like an even bigger step back than the one I’m already taking.
Not to mention the satisfaction it would have given Brian if I had to do that.
My pride wouldn’t let me stoop that low.
I stayed with my mom in a hotel through the heartbreak of the first couple weeks.
We watched Gilmore Girls reruns and ate ice cream in our pajamas.
But now they call and check in weekly, knowing I’ve built my life here.
Even if Brian isn’t in it anymore, that doesn’t mean I want to leave Julia and Henry behind.
“I know. I appreciate you,” I tell her.
When Julia offered me a room in exchange for dropping Henry off at school, I jumped at it.
She doesn’t know it yet, but I plan to give her half of my alimony check each month.
It’s not much, but it’s something to put toward her mortgage, and I’ll pay her back in full as soon as I’m on my own two feet.
“Something else is bothering you,” she comments.
I sigh. “I know it’s not a custody battle, but can you believe he’s trying to keep Millie from me?
” I chew on the end of a ballpoint pen, swiveling aggressively from side to side.
It’s been over a month since I moved out, but I’ve been to the house every single day looking for the stray kitten I rescued on a Table Rock hike last summer.
Despite having roamed the foothills for who knows how long, Millie didn’t look worse for wear when I found her. I did my part—put up signs, checked the local animal shelter, waited a month before I considered her mine.
Brian hated that I didn’t involve him in the decision.
What’s the big deal about rescuing a cat who spends all of her time outside? I’d argued, and I stand by it. She was more of an asset to that mouse-ridden property than a burden to either of our wallets.
He’ll never admit he didn’t want to keep her until we became a him-and-me. Something else to hold over my head perhaps. It doesn’t matter anyway. Night is the only time she ever comes home, and he’s back from work by then. Now that the divorce is final, that would mean stepping on private property.
Other than missing Millie, I’ve gotten really comfortable at Julia’s place. It’s made the blow of trying and failing at finding a job easier, knowing I don’t have a rent check due any day.
“He’s doing it to get a rise out of you, and it’s clearly working. You’re about to rock the hinges off my barstool.”
I freeze and drop my foot from where it was propped up on the seat. “Sorry.”
It’s not just the alimony check that has me on edge. It’s been four days since my school run-in with Rhett Dawson where I leaned over his lap and delivered my phone number on his center console. Regret wouldn’t even begin to describe how I feel about that gesture. Humiliated might be more accurate.
And maybe I’d feel different if I heard from him. But I’m not surprised I haven’t. His screeching tires in a twenty-miles-per-hour school zone made it very clear he didn’t want to spend another second in my sight.
Now it’s Friday—the day he’s supposed to have that meeting with Miss Amy—and I can’t help but wonder if he asked Caroline for help. Bet she can’t build a fort.
“Hello? Earth to Summer?”
“What?” I lift my gaze from the brown knot in the hardwood floor that was taking the brunt of my staring.
“What do you have planned for the day?” She crosses the kitchen and fills her to-go thermos with coffee.
Aside from dropping Henry off at school? Nothing.
Julia holds out the coffee pot, but I shoo her away. If my jittery fingertips are any indication, I think I’ve had my quota. She plunks it back in the coffee maker and collects a stack of ready-to-go belongings off the counter.
“Apply for a few more jobs like yesterday.” I’m trying not to sound discouraged, but after going at this for a month with no leads to show for it, I am. I need the money.
“What about Kay’s Flowers?”
I scrunch my nose. “No piercings or tattoos.” Something tells me Kay won’t appreciate when I show up for an interview with a diamond stud in my nose or a heart etched on my collarbone.
“Oh.”
Ugh, it’s all so overwhelming. I need a pick-me-up. I swipe out of the depressing bank app and open my camera roll. Millie’s orange-and-white paw bats at the screen, and I giggle.
Arms full, Julia kisses me on top of the head.
“He can’t keep a cat he never cared for.
” Then she disappears to the living room to say goodbye to Henry before her med-surg rotation.
I turn back to what might as well be my only child and wish Julia’s words brought me some semblance of comfort.
But I know Brian. Fighting fair is not in his wheelhouse.
I get Henry to preschool on time and spend the afternoon navigating the apps for local job listings.
My list of credentials in my LinkedIn bio is unimpressive, so I stick to ones that claim no work experience is needed.
I skip call centers and apply to be a waitress at Wingers, a receptionist at a dental practice, and a personal assistant at a law firm before I’m interrupted by a phone call from an unknown number.
Most people wouldn’t answer, but most people don’t have the kind of time on their hands that I do.
“Hello?”
“Summer? It’s Everett.”
His voice is a shock to my system. I sit up straighter and grin, deciding to play with him like I intended to do when I thought this was a solicitor.
“I’m sorry, have we met?”
He lets out an exasperated grunt. “Our kids go to school together.”
I forgot I still haven’t corrected him that Henry isn’t my child.
“There are a lot of parents coming and going from that school.”
“It’s Rhett Dawson,” he growls.
I love that I can smile and he can’t see it. I also love that he called himself by his first name to me. Feels like we’re making some sort of progress even if I still use his stage name. “Oh! Rhett! Hi! Are you running late for something? You sound rather breathless.”
“This was a mistake.”
“No! Wait! I’m kidding. What can I do for you?”
He sighs. “My sister was going to watch Quinn this afternoon, but she got caught up in a meeting.”
“What about Caroline?”
“What about Caroline,” he parrots. “Thanks to you, she thinks you’re my nanny, remember? Are you going to help me out or not?”
“I’ll have Henry with me. Will that be a problem?”
“I figured. Will you have a car seat for Quinn? I don’t have time to bring you one.”
I didn’t think about that either. “Uh… I think Julia has an extra booster seat Henry can ride in. Quinn can use the one with the harness—she’s younger.”
“Julia?”
“My roommate.”
“Do you remember where I live?”
“Something tells me the reporters on Harrison Boulevard will lure me there if I don’t.” I snort.
His silence tells me he doesn’t appreciate my humor.
“There’s a hidden key beneath the third solar lantern on the left side of the backyard. That’ll unlock the French doors in the back.”
“I do love a good treasure hunt!”
There’s another long pause after I speak. I don’t know why it’s such a thrill to know I’m getting under his skin.
“It shouldn’t be any more than an hour.” He sounds even more annoyed than when we started this phone call.
“Take your time, cowboy. I’ve got it covered,” I say.
“Do you? Because it doesn’t sound like you’re in your car. It’s three fifteen.”
Shit. I wasn’t paying attention to the time. I slide off the down comforter, snatching the twin hair ties from my nightstand and twisting my hair up into haphazard space buns.
“Good luck at your meeting,” I get out before I hang up. I jog to the backyard where I stashed the sidewalk chalk behind the garbage cans. After Henry realized how dirty it makes your hands, I know he won’t appreciate it. Quinn might.
It’s a ten-minute drive to the school from Julia’s.
I make it to the brick building with one minute to spare and spot Miss Amy’s long auburn hair twisted in a braid over her shoulder.
She’s waiting outside the door with a handful of backpack-wearing toddlers.
From a distance, Henry’s towhead is hard to miss, but Quinn I don’t see until I get closer.
When she sees me she reaches for his hand, and he bats hers away again. Poor girl. Won’t give up.
“Henry, your auntie’s here!” Miss Amy points to me and waves as I hop onto the sidewalk.
“Hey, buddy! How was school?” I’m looking at his teacher as I ask my Julia-inspired question. She always wants a daily report. If I don’t ask, I don’t get much out of Henry to share.