“Right. No hiding,” Summer announced, drawing his attention back to her.
“So…what do you think, Summertime?”
She grinned at the nickname. The room was small and weird, but she felt happy.
“It’s good. I like it.”
She turned to her mother as soon as Taured left, hands on hips. Just as she expected, Lorraine was sour-faced and pensive. She hated when her mother got like this: her lips folded, the seam between them a bright white. Too much in her own head, her dad used to say.
“You hate it,” she said accusingly. “You made me come here and now you hate it!” Summer wanted a fight; sometimes it was the only way to draw the truth out of her mother.
“I never said that.” Lorraine was digging around in her purse, murmuring something to herself that Summer couldn’t hear.
“I want to stay.” She almost stomped her foot but thought better of it.
Her mother’s head snapped up.
“Why, because they gave you cake and a basket of T-shirts?” Lorraine slapped her forehead once, twice, and then she got up and strode across the small room. She opened the door, looked out and closed it again.
“Well, you’re going to get your wish for a little while yet, Summer.” Her voice wasn’t nice. Summer didn’t like it.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Lorraine dropped her voice. “Look, we don’t have another option right now, so we have to stay…but not for long, okay? Just to get on our feet.” She was talking to herself now, pacing the small space between the beds. Summer sat down cross-legged on her own bed to listen and to get out of her way.
“Why don’t you like it?”
Her mama stopped abruptly and looked at Summer like she had a thousand things to say. Summer braced herself for a lecture, but instead she got only a handful of words.
“This place isn’t right. He’s different than I remember. I don’t trust anyone here and you aren’t to, either, do you hear me?”
Summer nodded, her eyebrows lifting on their own. “But they paid all of your credit cards. I thought you said—”
“We’re going to be foreigners in their land—do you know what that means?”
“Um, no,” Summer said.
“We live here, we eat their food, we heal up and wait, but we are not to think like them. Their ways are not our ways.”
Summer smiled. She only cared about the food, anyway.
“How long can we stay?”
“I don’t know yet. I’m trying to decide if I should call your grandparents.”
“You hate them. You said living with them was a nightmare,” Summer reminded her. It wasn’t fair! Her mother couldn’t just drag her around the country, could she? She had to go to school and have stability. Her mother used to yell that at her dad when they fought. “Summer needs stability!” And she was about to bring that up when her mother said something that made her shut her trap.
“Some nightmares are worse than others.”
6
Now
She didn’t want to lie to him when she was already omitting most of her truths, so when Grant brought up the girls’ trip again while they were having dinner in Seattle, she took a large sip of her water and buckled down for a squall.
“Stephen mentioned that you were considering going on the trip with the girls. Still thinking about it, according to the Tiger wives.” His voice had a hopeful tone.
Her hand stilled halfway to her mouth. She set her fork down instead of taking the bite and sighed.
“No, actually, I specifically told them I wasn’t.”
Grant looked—not crestfallen, but worse than that. Disappointed.
“Why is it so important to you where I spend my weekend? You’re going to be ten thousand miles away.”
She’d just tossed back an oyster and was licking brine from her lips.
“Look, I’m not going to be available for most of the time I’m there. As soon as we land, we’re going straight to the Tokyo office, and I’ll be in meetings all day. It would give me peace of mind knowing you were…not alone.” She heard him choose that word carefully and it bothered her. Suspend your feminism for a moment and hear him, she told herself. Picking up her fork, she speared salad and filled her mouth until she was unable to talk.
“The weather forecast says it’s going to snow, and I don’t like you up here by yourself. If you lose power, you’re not going to be able to work, anyway, and you won’t even be able to see four inches in front of your face.”