Page 64 of XOXO, Summer
She curls against my side, her giggle wiggling between us. “Sounds like a good idea.”
We lie there in the dark. I can tell she’s awake like I am by the gentle tapping of her finger and the brush of her eyelashes against my skin. I shouldn’t say anything. It would be wise to just go to sleep, but my thoughts are running rampant with different ways I should be handling this situation. My agent sent that message with not so much as a word of advice. So I turn to the person I trust to have my best interest at heart. “Summer?”
“Yes,” she whispers, her finger stills as she spreads her hand to rest on my chest.
“Don’t change for them, okay?”
“Who?”
I kiss the top of her head. “Anyone.” She’s so perfect, I don’t want her tainted by my reputation. “Good night.”
“Good night.”
Five Days Later. . .
I dry my hands,then hand the dish towel to Roman. He tosses it to the kitchen counter and crosses his arms over his chest. “Why do we have to do the dishes?”
“Because that’s how we contribute. Dolly, Summer, and her sisters have treated us like kings since we got here?—”
“I like being king.”
His feelings are much different from mine. I wasn’t taught to clean or to help. I was taught it was a woman’s work and stayed out of the fray. Being here changes things. I want to help. I like being in the fray. And Roman will get over it. He doesn’t need to be spoiled, which I know Mia doesn’t. This is a good reminder for him. “They’ve opened their home to us. We can do a few dishes.” I grab his tossed cloth and drape it over the sink like I’ve seen Dolly do. “Anyway, we’re done. Go play.”
He runs out of the kitchen, as if his right to play will be revoked if he lingers too long. “Bye,” I say to a door already swinging closed.
I take a chair and sit. The quiet is a good time to think. The door swings open, and Roman peeks back in. He’s already smiling. “Bye, Dad.”
Now, I’m smiling. “Come here.”
He comes back in and right into my arms. I embrace him with my life and career rolling through my head. My childhood and the sacrifices I made to play hockey, the events I had to say no to because I was busy becoming great, and the life I didn’t have time to live through the first year in the league. I never think about it, so it’s odd that those memories are coming back now. But with my son in my arms, I realize the parent he needs is important. It feeds my soul as well as his.
I can only be so lucky that he takes my presence in his life for granted.
When he starts squirming, I release him. Summer walks in and stops with the door in her hand. Her soft smile gives me the peace I need to know everything will work out. She’s also said it like five times today.
Roman runs past her. “Hi, Summer.”
“Hi, Roman,” she replies, watching him run toward the front door. “Tire swing?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She turns back to me and lets the door maneuver closed by itself. I say, “I’ve never heard him say that before.”
“He’s a fine little gentleman.” When she laughs, she adds, “And you can blame Dolly.” She pulls out a chair across from me and sits, holding her hands in her lap. “What will his mom think about that?”
“She’ll probably laugh and tell him not to call her that.” I don’t know if it’s right or wrong to talk about Mia with her. Summer is going to be in my life, so they should know about each other. “Mia has a boyfriend.”
“Oh.”
“They’ve been together for a few years.” I rest my arms forward on the table. “He’s a good guy, and he treats Romanwell. He’ll even bring him to some home games so he can watch his dad play.”
“It’s nice she’s found someone who treats both of them well, and you.” Her eyes search mine as if she senses there’s more to this than I’m sharing. How does she know me so well? “What’s going on?”
I’ve been protecting her, smiling as she showed me the apiary, quiet as she worked on a presentation she might get to give, and walking in a daze, somehow believing that everything is going to work out. It always has for me, so that seemed logical.
Not anymore. Five days after reading that article, my anger hasn’t subsided. It’s grown. My agent’s avoidance of my calls adds to the frustration. My time here is spoiled by checking my phone and scanning websites to see when the next sabotage will drop.
“I haven’t gotten a call or text that indicates my agent gives one shit about my career, much less two.”
