by Anna Joung
When I get to Rebel’s message, my heart stutters. Hearing his voice weakens my resolve to the point where I almost call him back, but I resist. Eyes closed, I listen.
“Summer ―”
How I miss hearing my name roll off his tongue. I take a deep breath.
“I went to your parent’s house yesterday.”
My eyes widen. He did what? If my parents find out about our whole fake engagement, they’ll have ammunition against me for the rest of my life.
“I met your mother, but I didn’t tell her anything about us. Not the full truth, anyway.”
Relieved, I listen to the rest of his message.
“I’m sorry if I crossed the line showing up at your parents’ place, but I was desperate. I thought I’d find you there, or maybe they knew where you were. I tried, Summer. I really tried to give you your space, but it’s been two weeks.”
The defeat in his voice makes it harder for me to listen.
“I saw Zoey, and she told me what happened―about you finding out about your biological father.” Rebel sighs. “Why didn’t you tell me, Summer? I’m hurt that you didn’t feel like you could talk to me. I could have... I don’t know... maybe helped in some way. I wish I knew Van is your brother. That would have made things so much easier. You’d probably still be here. With me. Don’t you trust me?”
I frown, wondering what Van being my step-brother has to do with Rebel and me.
“Summer, when are you going to come back? Or tell me where you are? I need to see you.”
Rebel sounds absolutely devastated, and it sends a piercing pain through my chest as if my heart is literally being broken. What am I doing? I should go to him and tell him about our baby. Doubt kicks in again, as it always does. What if he isn’t ready? He needs this time apart just as much as I do. Taking a deep breath, I resist the urge to call him.
The last message sends shock coursing through me. Henry. Why on earth would he call me? My stepfather hates me. He’s made that painfully clear. His voice filters through the speaker.
“Summer, hi. It’s Henry.”
No shit. I’m surprised he even has my number. Maybe Mom gave it to him.
“I hear you’ve been... missing.”
I roll my eyes. Great, they send him to talk me out of this. No doubt Mom and Zoey went into hysterics when they discovered I fled Chicago. I only feel guilty about not giving my sister a heads up. Zoey might be judgemental and a pushy big sister at times, but she’s always been there for me in her own way, unlike Henry and Mom.
“Laurie says no one has heard from you in a while. Did you really leave the city? I wish you’d tell us where you are. Your mother is worried, and,” he clears his throat, “so am I. I’m really worried, Summer. I feel terrible. I wish we could talk. Do you think that’s possible? There are some things I would need to say to you. Anyway, if you need anything, feel free to call me, kiddo.”
My mouth hangs open when the beep signals the end of his message. Even when I hear, “You have no new messages,” I’m still gawking at the phone. Did Henry just call me kiddo? Are they so desperate? All I remember growing up is his stern expressions and cold words. I don’t think I’ve ever even received a hug from the man. Once, when I was just learning how to ride a bike, I fell off and skinned my knee. Henry told a sobbing seven-year-old me to suck it up because it wouldn't be my only fall in life.
My mother just stood there and said, “Listen to your father, honey.”
All I really wanted was a hug and a few encouraging words. They treated me like I was in boot camp or something. I was always a snarky smartass, so I told Henry to shove it because he wasn’t my real dad. I remember the spanking I got for that very well. Asshole. Now, he’s calling me kiddo and acting all...nice. I’m not stupid.
Call him if I need anything? He’s the last person I would call. But I would really like to know what he’s got to say to me. He never felt terrible for anything. Does he even have feelings?
Glaring at the phone, I decide that I need to know why he’s been such a dick to me my whole life. Since I’m miles away, I have the courage to ask. There’s no way I’d do it face to face, not with his ever-present sidekick ready to jump in. It’s never been easy having Mom and Henry gang up on me. There’s not a single good memory. There were many fights that beat me down mentally. That’s why I hide behind a facade of sarcasm to this day. I’ve always had to play it tough.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I dial Henry’s number. After a few rings, I panic. This is a stupid idea. I can’t confront Henry. It makes no sense at this point. I’m about to hang up when he answers.
“Summer?” Fuck.
“Summer, are you there?”
Looking skyward, I sigh, “Yeah, I’m here. Hello, Henry.”
“My God, Summer, it’s good to hear from you. Are you alright? Where are you?”
“I’m fine. Is Mom with you?”
“She’s upstairs. She’s been worried sick. I’ll get her―”
“No, if I wanted to talk to her, I would have called her.”
He sighs. “Summer, you can’t stay angry with her.”
“Don't tell me what to do.” I grit my teeth, reining in my temper. Hearing him give me an order, is triggering. I’ve endured years of him acting like a drill sergeant rather than a father.
“I’m sorry.”
Disarmed by sheer surprise, I frown. “You...you apologized. That’s...new.”
“Well, I don’t want you to hang up, but I mean it. Not just for now, for all the times I’ve told you what to do.”
“You said that’s what parents are for. You told me that when I was twelve.”
“You remember that?”
“I remember everything you’ve said to me.” Every nasty, negative thing he’s hurled in my face since I was a kid.
He’s quiet for a while. “It never occurred to me that you would. That means you have the horrible things I’ve said floating around that head of yours. I’ve failed as a father, haven’t I?”
Speechless, I stare ahead. This certainly isn’t the conversation I expected to have. This isn’t the Henry I expected to talk to―this soft-spoken, remorseful person. Clutching my chest, I ask, “Henry, are you okay? Are you sick? Oh, my God, are you dying?”
“Dying? Why would you...no, I’m not sick or dying, Summer.”
“Then why are you being so nice?”
“You’ve been missing for weeks and you think the only reason I’d be nice to you is because I’m dying.” He laughs, but it sounds completely humorless. “I really have failed. I’m so sorry.”
My lower lip quivers. “You haven’t failed, I guess. You kept me clothed and fed, even though I’m not yours. I should thank you.”
“No, Summer, you shouldn’t have to thank me for that. I’ve been in your life since you were a baby. I’m the only father you’ve ever known. You were my responsibility.”
Now is the time. I garner the courage to ask what I’ve wanted to know for the longest. The thing that’s haunted my childhood and even some of my adult years. “You said in your message I can call you if I need anything.”
“What do you need? Tell me where you are and I’ll be there.”
“No one needs to know where I am.”
“Summer, we’re all worried―”
“Just shut up and listen to me, Henry. For once.”
He goes quiet. “Okay.”
“What I need from you is to know why you hate me. Is it because I’m not yours?” Although, he never seemed to have a problem with Zoey, and she isn’t his either.
“I’ve never hated you, and I’ve always considered you and your sister mine.”
The sob that’s wrenched from deep down takes me by surprise. I’ve been trying so hard to keep my emotions in check. “You have a funny way of showing it.”
“I want the best for you, Summer. That’s why I’ve always been hard on you.”
“Even when I was six? Five? I was a child, Henry. All I ever want
ed was for you to show me a sliver of affection.”
“I’m sorry you grew up thinking I hated you. From an early age, I could see how spirited you were. You didn’t fall in line like your sister, and I was worried that your stubborn nature would hinder you in life.”
“That’s a really fucked up way at looking at life, Henry.” He doesn’t reprimand me for using crass language like he always does.
Instead, he says, “You’re right.”
I’m hit with another dose of shock. “I am?” I’ve never been right about anything in Henry’s eyes before.
“Look, Summer, I’m not good with the whole soft, encouraging parenting thing because I never had that growing up. All I had was a hard-ass abusive father and a mother who checked out mentally. This might sound like an excuse, but I didn’t have the best examples as parents so I was bound to make a few mistakes with you and your sister. I’m just not good with hugs and kind words, so I figured I’d make sure you and your sister grew into women who could maneuver through the world. I may not have given you hugs and kisses, but I love you, and Zoey. That’s why I need you to come home, Summer. I feel guilty.”
Swallowing the next sob that wants to come out, I ask, “For what?”
“I know your life has been shaken up by new discoveries, but a small part of me feels like I helped to drive you away too. Maybe if you felt more comfortable coming home, being around me, you’d have resolved things with your mother, and you’d still be here.”
Nibbling my fingernails, I ponder his words. Even if Henry wasn’t a constant asshole to me, I doubt I would have run home to chat things up with Mom. I’d still be mad at her regardless, so… “No, don’t feel guilty about that, Henry. You have nothing to do with me wanting to get away.”
His long exhale sounds a lot like relief. “I truly am sorry for being a jerk your whole life, Summer. I honestly thought I was doing right by you, pushing you to be better.”
“I’m sure you did, Henry. Thanks for trying.” I wonder if I come clean about my situation if he’d jump right back into judgmental mode. Surely, he’d be disappointed.
“I should have been more supportive,” he says. “I guess, it’s too late now, huh?”
Tapping my fingers on the table, I shrug. Is it? I’m twenty-seven. What more fatherly support do I need at this point? At least he was there, not like my real father. “Maybe it isn’t. When the time is right, you can still be there for me even if it’s just to talk...like we’re doing now.”
“I wish this could have been face-to-face.”
“One day, we can do this in person.”
“One day? So, we won’t be seeing you anytime soon?”
“I don’t know, Henry. I just need time. You guys have to give me that.”
There’s a pregnant pause. “Fine. Can I at least tell your mother I’ve spoken to you? She really is beside herself with worry.”
“Just don’t tell her what we talked about. Please.”
“Okay. Wherever you are, take care of yourself, Summer.”
I always had to. “I will. Goodbye, Henry, and... thanks.”
The one conversation won’t make everything go away but it’s a start to repair things with Henry. I guess if I’m going to raise a child; I need to start getting rid of the toxicity in my life.
Rebel
Leaned against the wall, I stare out the window. I’m in the room Summer occupied when she was here. I’d catch her doing this sometimes―looking out the window, seemingly deep in thought. Only, she’d be standing next to her easel with a blank canvas. I always assumed she was thinking about what to put on her canvas. After discovering everything she’s been going through, maybe it wasn’t about art after all. Maybe she’d been trying to sort through intense emotions... alone. I should have been her support.
“Idiot.” Heaving a sigh, I march to her bed to sit. I’m going out of my mind. It’s been almost two fucking months since Summer disappeared, and I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve called myself an idiot. I’ve mentally beat up myself about being blind to Summer’s suffering so much that there’s nothing left of me.
I fall back onto the mattress with a sigh to stare up at the ceiling. I’m done. Defeated. Her love for me has turned to hate, that's why she won’t come back. That’s why she won’t call. How long will I be able to go on like this? Not knowing anything. What am I supposed to do to just move on with my life? That’s not possible. I need Summer in my life for it to move on in the right direction.
I’m about to cut my pity-party short and get up when I glimpse something in my periphery. I turn to see a tiny card under the dresser. I haven’t cleaned the guest room since Summer left. I have this crazy idea that touching anything in here will wipe away her lingering presence. Clearly, I’ve gone mad. Curiosity has me on my feet and moving towards the card. Swiping it up, my heart leaps when I see the name on it. It’s Van Bancroft’s business card. He must have given it to Summer when he hired her to do his painting. I’m guessing long before she found out they’re siblings.
For the first time in weeks, hope is alive. Fuck. Maybe Van knows where Summer is. It’s a long shot. I mean, the family she grew up with does not know where she ran off to. Van is practically a stranger to her, so chances are he doesn’t know either, but it’s worth a try. I waste no time calling him.
“Hello.”
I hesitate because I wasn’t expecting him to answer. “Hello...”
“Who is this?”
“Van, this is Rebel Brand. I’m―”
“I know who you are. How did you get this number?”
“I found your business card in Summer’s...in my house.”
“Right. Well, nice talking to you, Rebel. Gotta go.”
What the fuck? “Hey, wait a minute! Don’t hang up.”
I hear him groan, “What do you want?”
“You know where she is, don’t you?”
“No…” He sighs and mutters something else. “Yes, but I can’t tell you.”
Jaws clenched, I keep my temper in check. I can’t lash out at the one person who knows where Summer is. “Look, man, I don’t know you and you don’t know me, but one man to another, please tell me where the woman I love is.”
Van goes quiet for a while, long enough for me to think he’s going to have pity on me and help a brother out. “You really love her?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but yes.”
“I’m sorry, Rebel. I can’t tell you. She swore me to secrecy. I can’t break her trust as much as I’d like to help you.”
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! I want to break my phone out of sheer frustration. Jabbing my fingers through my hair, I think of something else to say that might persuade him to tell me where Summer is. “Look, I respect your loyalty, really, I do, but―”
“You’re desperate. You want to know she’s okay. You need to talk to her. Yeah, I get it.”
“Then tell me where she is.”
“Still can’t. However―”
“For fuck’s sake, not a however. I don’t need a, however. I need Summer.”
“I’m moved, seriously but…”
“Are you by any chance patronizing me, Van?”
He chuckles. “Not at all. Tell me something, Rebel. Have you ever considered getting your whole shit together before hunting down Summer? Maybe you should sort things out with yourself before looking for Summer. I’m pretty sure that’s what she’d want.”
Suppressing my need to rapidly fire a bunch of profanity in his ear―because he’s pissing me off―I take the time to listen. Were they talking about us? About me? How much does he know? “Care to explain?”
“I know that you’re going through a custody battle right now. Summer doesn’t stop talking about you, so I’ve heard some things.”
My ears perk up. “She talks about me?”
“Calm down, princess.”
The fucker. Yet, a smile lifts one corner of my lips. “Proceed... asshole,” I mutter, hoping that he heard that p
art. He’s my only link to Summer right now, so I’d better stay on his good side.
“I heard that.”
I wince, but hell, I’m not apologizing. Van clears his throat. “Since my step-sister is clearly into you, I figured, you can’t be a bad guy. So, I’d like to help you out. I can help you win custody of your son you know?”
“Well, thanks for the compliment. How?”
“I would rather talk about this in person.”
Suspicion rears his head. “And why would you even want to help a stranger?”
“I’m not doing it for you. I’m doing it for her. I told you, all she does is talk about you. Seeing you with your kid would make her happy. I’ve been offering to help for a while now. I knew we were siblings long before I told Summer, and that’s why I offered to help you when you got arrested. I thought you two were together.”
“We were.”
“Not what I heard. I know the full story, Rebel.”
Fuck, he knows everything. “Still, that doesn’t take away from my feelings for her.”
“I know. So, accept my help, you can’t lose anything. ”
“Fine. How do we do this?”
“First, I want to officially meet the man who stupidly let my step-sister go.”
I roll my eyes. But he’s right. I did stupidly let Summer go.
A couple of days later, I’m sitting in the Firehouse Pub, waiting for Van Bancroft. I decided I wanted to meet him on my turf and he agreed. I’m at a table, facing the entrance and anxiously awaiting his arrival. A man walks in in a tailored suit. His blonde hair is perfectly coiffed. I snort. Van Bancroft is like a fucking life-sized Ken doll. He’s Hollywood good-looking and rich. That’s why I flipped when I thought he and Summer had a thing. I thought: she deserves a man like Van who has his life together. Seeing them together made me feel inadequate... for her.