Summer's Song

by Lindi Peterson

  “I love you too, Levi.” His arms hold me tight.

  I’ve never felt so free.

  The End

  Summer’s Song Discussion Questions

  1. Summer is very shy when it comes to talking about God. Why do you think that is? Are you shy when it comes to talking about God?

  2. Summer feels deep down in her heart that she isn’t loved for who she is, but what she can do for others. Have you ever felt this way?

  3. Summer has a past she’s not proud of. God has put her mentor Skeet and the musician Levi in her path, who tell her she can be different from her past. Have you ever felt like you couldn’t get away from your past mistakes? Have you overcome that thinking? If so, how is your life different?

  4. The family dynamics Summer deals with regarding her mother, sister, and ex-husband are very stressful. Have you dealt with family dynamics of a similar nature? How do you forgive and learn to live peacefully with difficult people?

  5. At the beginning of the book, Summer is very insecure. What do you think helped her to be more confident in who she is and the decisions she makes?

  6. Levi keeps pushing Summer to take chances. To do things she hasn’t done before. Is there or has there been someone like that in your life who wants you to be the best you can be? How do you handle situations where you are uncomfortable doing something you haven’t done before?

  7. Summer finds herself wanting a life that is totally opposite the way she’s used to living. Do you think she’s running or do you think she truly wants something different? Have you ever had this experience? How did it turn out?

  8. Summer’s mother constantly puts her down when it comes to raising Sam. Do you or have you had someone in your life who claims to love you, yet puts you down when you try to accomplish something?

  9. Summer learns to forgive her sister for writing the tell-all book. Have you had to forgive a sibling for something they’ve done that’s hurt you and possibly changed your life for the worse? How did forgiving them change your life?

  10. Summer finds true love with Levi. She also learns how God loves unconditionally, something that’s been nothing but a foreign concept to her. How do you think her life will be different in the future? How was your life different when you realized God loves you for who you are?

  Also by Lindi Peterson

  Her Best Catch

  Excerpt

  Chapter One

  They say fifty is the new thirty.

  Which means in a couple of months when my mother turns fifty we’ll be almost the same age. I really don’t want to think about it. Especially since my mother’s acting sixteen and I’m feeling more like forty. This year I’d like to avoid the whole birthday deal entirely.

  But I can’t. I’m throwing her a surprise party instead. Which is why I’m standing in Bubba Bob’s Barbecue placing a really big food order even though I’m supposed to be meeting my best friend Velvet for lunch in less than ten minutes.

  Oh, well, Velvet is always late.

  “Thanks for all your help, Bob,” I say, shoving the receipt and my checkbook into my bulging purse. Bob stands there smiling as I dig in the aforementioned purse for my keys. I would like to say that I’m not normally this unorganized, but that would be a lie. And good Christian girls don’t lie.

  At least not intentionally.

  Finally, I find my keys at the bottom (well, where else would they be?) and tell Bob thanks again before I make my way to my car, the one luxury I allow myself since I have moved back home. Of course, I’m the only one who would consider an old Toyota Celica convertible a luxury. The car runs like a dream, and it’s all mine. Only mine.

  The fresh cut smell of onion grass flows through the open top, a sure sign of summer in Atlanta. Spring azaleas have dropped their pink, red or white blooms while the dogwoods languish in their glory.

  I pull into the parking lot five minutes late and make my way into the restaurant. I get a table and settle in. Too bad my stomach can’t settle down.

  Velvet had a date last night with Trent. Our very best guy friend. The three of us have been inseparable since high school. And if things went the way Velvet thought they were going to go, I might just have to separate myself away.

  Bummer.

  I tighten my ponytail, probably out of nervousness. I pay more money than any sane human being should to have highlights, lowlights, shimmer and shine. My mother hates the fact that I pull my goldilocks into a ponytail almost every day. She threatens to toss my elastic bands into the trash. But she doesn’t and I just listen to her talk about if she had my hair, blah, blah, blah. I like the ponytail. It’s less fuss and trouble. And it stays out of my way.

  Velvet does not wear her hair in a ponytail. She keeps her rich, dark brown hair, which no bottle could supply, cut in a chin length bob, and she always looks like she just stepped out of the salon. That’s where she is now, which is probably why I’m waiting. Her guy is always behind. Even when she’s his first customer. I wouldn’t put up with it, but she swears there’s no one like Trey Haslow, the up and coming stylist in Atlanta.

  A soccer game is being televised while the Mariachi band roams around playing music and looking for tips. My tip? Don’t date your best friend.

  I’m really wondering how things went last night. For Velvet to want to eat here, I’m thinking it wasn’t so hot. Why else would she want to gorge on Mexican food? All these chips and rice and beans are a carbohydrate disaster. And Velvet always watches her carbs.

  Well, I can’t say I’m really surprised. (And feeling a bit guilty because of the relief that thought brings.)

  The it-might-be-a-date prospect didn’t pan out, so I’ll be here for Velvet. After all, isn’t that what best friends are for?

  I glance at my watch. It’s only twenty after twelve, so I probably have another twenty minutes to wait.

  Have I mentioned that Velvet is always late?

  But it’s okay because I know this about her. I don’t mind sitting here alone, eating a few chips and sipping my club soda with lime. It gives me time to mentally prepare for whatever news Velvet has.

  She slides into the booth moments later surprising me.

  “Hey, girl. You’re early,” I say.

  She looks at her watch. “Funny.”

  The waiter immediately shows up and takes our order. Velvet orders a Taco Salad which makes me very nervous. I have never known Velvet to watch her carbs at a Mexican restaurant.

  “Well,” Velvet starts. “Do you want to hear about last night?”

  Here it is. The million-dollar question.

  I now absorb several things. The huge smile Velvet has had since she arrived. The sparkle in her eyes. The I’m-the-happiest-girl-ever aura that surrounds her.

  But the most significant thing is that she hasn’t eaten a chip. Not even one.

  And there is only one good reason why a girl would strictly watch her carbs. A guy. In this case, Trent.

  So what does a best friend do when she’s ready to receive news that has made her friend the happiest in a long time, but will not make the recipient of the news as happy?

  Eat. Have the mouth full when the big announcement is given, that way she can half-smile, nod and hold up her hand after pointing to her mouth indicating she would love to rejoice with you, but it will have to wait until all food is chewed and mouth is empty.

  Praise God there is a basket full of chips right in front of me.

  “So, tell me all about it,” I say as I grab a handful of carbs and start putting them into my mouth, mechanically, one after another. (So much for mentally preparing.)

  Before Velvet begins speaking, this dreamy look glazes her eyes and she does a shoulder shrug while holding her arms, like she’s savoring the most precious memory ever.

  I grab more chips.

  “Well, I walk in and immediately smell something great cooking. It’s some kind of Thai chicken dish which was fabulous. But before we eat, I scope the place out, jot down some decorating i
deas, because of course, that’s what I’m there for.”

  Personally, I think she had her own agenda which had nothing to do with decorating.

  She sips her water then continues. “So I lay out these plans and he’s okay with them. He doesn’t even ask how much it’s going to cost. Of course, I told him I’ll get him the best prices available since I have connections, so that’s probably why he didn’t ask.”

  Probably, I think.

  “Then we eat that fabulous chicken. Oh, I think I already told you it was fabulous, but it was the best chicken I’ve ever eaten. No lie.”

  I need to mention that Velvet still hasn’t touched one chip, while I’ve eaten half the basket. And she still hasn’t gotten to the “good” part yet.

  “So,” she says, sipping more water. “After we cleaned up from dinner, we sat on his back porch, on the swing, right next to each other. And Allison.” She takes this deep breath and I shove chips. “It was there.”

  My mouth is really full trying to chew all these chips. It’s taking way too much concentration so I can’t figure out what she means by “It was there.” What was there? Lightning bugs? No, then she would have said, “They were there.”

  Good grief, I can’t even ask her because my mouth’s too full.

  Truthfully, I don’t even think she notices my dilemma. She had seemed so intense seconds ago when she made the big “It was there” statement, but now’s she back to her glazed look.

  The waiter slides our plates in front of us.

  “Hot, plate, hot plate,” he repeats. Like those big gloves he’s wearing aren’t a clue. “Don’t touch,” he says as I attempt to turn my plate. Doesn’t he know the tacos have to be on the far side of the plate?

  I leave my plate alone. The food is way too hot to eat anyway. Besides, I am so full of chips that I can’t imagine eating my meal.

  Since Velvet hasn’t said anything since her revelation, I guess it’s my turn.

  “What was there?”

  She picks up her fork and mixes her lettuce and tomatoes in with her sour cream and guac. She doesn’t eat.

  “The best feeling ever. The one where you feel so drawn to someone. Like you’re not close enough. Like there’s some sort of electricity between you.” She stops, then smiles and stares straight at me. “I wanted to kiss him so bad.”

  I am so full at this point I don’t have one crumb in my mouth. And I’m expected to make some sort of comment. I know I am.

  “Did you?” I ask, trying to rid my brain of the visual of Trent and Velvet kissing.

  “No. I’m waiting for him to make that move.”

  “So, you think he feels the same way?” I ask, because as much as I don’t want to know, I have to know. We females are warped that way.

  “I know he does. We’re going out again tonight.”

  “Tonight?”

  “Yes. How many hours is it until seven o’clock?”

  I look at my watch. “About seven hours.”

  She’s got it bad if she’s counting the hours.

  “It’s going to be the slowest seven hours ever.”

  “Do you think?” I ask, mimicking Velvet by pushing my food around on my plate.

  “Oh, Allison. This is it, I know it. Trent is my Mr. Right.”

  I smile, my throat feeling like a constricted mess as I blink back tears. I can’t define the tears. I’m happy for my best friends, yet sad for my loss because the three of us will never have the same type of friendship that we’ve had in the past.

  And right at this moment, I’m terrified of the changes this new relationship will bring.

  Today I lift my spirits by curling my ponytail. It’s what I call my dressy look. After all, I am going to church.

  But before church is Sunday school with Trelvet. That’s Trent and Velvet together. I have decided it’s good for my psyche to lend my own small sense of humor to the situation while it lasts. It can’t hurt.

  As I walk down the hall to the classroom of young adult singles, wondering if things are really going to be any different, I’m surprised to see almost all of our female population in the hallway, huddled together like they’re trying to decide the next big play.

  After scanning the group quickly, I notice Velvet is not among the throng.

  But I am not spared. As soon as I’m within arm’s reach, someone grabs me and pulls me into the circle.

  “Have you heard?” Emma Johnson asks, whispering.

  Whatever news that has this group assembled is good news. There are smiles and giggles and clutching of arms.

  “I mean, who’d of ever thought. In our Sunday school class,” Joanie Gables screams quietly. You know that voice people use that always ends up sounding like a squeaky mouse? Well, Joanie’s voice always sounds that way.

  I know they can’t be talking about Trelvet. Can they?

  “Allison, guess who is in our Sunday school room.”

  As Braedyn Roth, with her mass of long brunette curls and white straight teeth, stops addressing me, there is a hush and all eyes are on me.

  Can I buy a vowel? I am so lost here. I guess I’ve been so focused on Trelvet I’ve missed something or someone very important.

  “Guess, Allison,” Braedyn repeats.

  “All the guys?” I answer.

  Giggles galore erupt and I’m feeling like an extra on one of those oldie beach movies.

  “He is a guy, that’s for sure,” Braedyn says. Then she stares me down with extremely serious brown eyes. “Ashton Boyd.”

  Ashton Boyd. I run the name quickly through my brain. It sounds familiar. Maybe Braedyn’s cute cousin from Albuquerque? But then why all the fuss?

  “Okay. Great. And this is special because?” I ask.

  A collective groan escapes the crowd. Now I really hope I haven’t just insulted someone’s relative. They start shaking their heads which only serves to enhance their colored pursed lips. Way too many perfumes are mixing it up, and I’m getting claustrophobic. Truthfully, I don’t think I care who Ashton Boyd is. I’m much too overwhelmed by the Trelvet situation.

  Braedyn looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. And I have, so she’s right.

  “Ashton Boyd, Allison. The drop-dead gorgeous, relief pitcher for the Atlanta Braves.”

  The cliché ‘you could have heard a pin drop’ certainly applies right now. I don’t know what they expect me to do. There is one of him and who knows how many of us. I wonder if they are planning an attack.

  The poor guy.

  Hanging with Trent, Mr. Baseball trivia king, has given me an insight into sports. Especially baseball. And if I’m remembering correctly, now that Braedyn has clued me in, I think Ashton was, was being the operative word, a relief pitcher for the Braves. Right now he’s unemployed, i.e., not a pitcher, i.e., not working, i.e., on any other male that would lend a bad stigma, but because Ashton is Ashton I guess it’s okay.

  Praise God I am saved from giving any response. Our fearless leader, Jax Rainwater whose dark good looks have caused quite a stir more than once, comes out to tell the roving pack it’s time to start class.

  I know he wonders if we are really going on thirty, because sometimes we still act like teenagers. Now being one of those times.

  I hang back, taking my time, afraid of being trampled.

  Jax stays behind and shuts the door after I enter. I spot Velvet across the room and she pats the chair next to her. At least she saved me my chair. I always sit to her right, and Trent rarely sits with us in Sunday school.

  Today though Trent sits to her left.

  “Morning,” I say as I try not to look at them. I can look at Velvet or Trent, but not Trelvet.

  “Good morning,” Trelvet says. I’m serious. They spoke at the exact same time.

  All the guys (except Trent and Jax) are crowded together. I’m assuming they are crowded around Ashton Boyd.

  “It’s time for our opening prayer. Take a seat.”

  Jax has to speak really loud to be heard over the bu
zz in the room. I hope having a celebrity in class doesn’t disrupt things permanently.

  Our chairs are set up in a semi-circle, and I’m wondering if there are going to be enough. Maybe having a celebrity in class will increase attendance.

  As the group of guys disperse to find a chair, Ashton appears. Oh, my. He does have good face.

  His brownish hair is a little long, like it could use a cut, but it looks great anyway. Not-too-long sideburns lend a rugged look to his very handsome features. I can’t see the color of his eyes from where I’m sitting, but they’re darkish, maybe hazel.

  He’s sitting in the folded metal chair looking very uncomfortable. His suit (nobody our age wears a suit to church anymore unless it involves a wedding or a funeral) is very nice, but looks stiff, like it doesn’t want to be here. If the truth be told, Ashton looks like he doesn’t want to be here.

  Can you really blame him? I mean, he came to this young adult class, and the girls probably gave him a complex the minute they went squealing out the door. Then the guys obviously flocked to him, probably asking him too many questions he’s probably been asked before.

  When Velvet nudges me I realize I’ve been staring. But I’m not staring for the reasons Velvet probably thinks I am.

  Yep, I’ll admit on a scale of one to ten he’s a ten and a half. Definitely pushing an eleven. But there’s more to a good man than looks. There’s substance. What kind of substance is Ashton Boyd made of?

  Velvet takes my hand as Jax starts our prayer. The warmth of her hand during the prayer reminds me that above all we are sisters in Christ. Trelvet or not.

  Jax finishes the prayer and we all focus on him. He sits at the front of the semi-circle, Bible in his lap.

  “All right everyone,” he starts. “We’re beginning a new book today. Turn to James. It’s in the New Testament towards the back.”

  People start to murmur, and pages rustle as everyone makes their way through the scriptures.

  Braedyn flies across the room to where Ashton is sitting. No one has sat on either side of him (I guess there are plenty of chairs after all), and Braedyn has offered to share her Bible with him.

  That is so sweet and hopefully sincere of her. He smiles at her as she introduces herself. His suit doesn’t smile. Somehow it manages to look even more uncomfortable next to Braedyn’s bright yellow sun dress and fluorescent yellow sandals.