Finding Summer

by Rice, Rachel E.

  Did Summer say she loved me? Jackson thought. He heard none of the rest of her conversation. Maybe he heard what he wanted to hear. Jackson’s heartbeat accelerated.

  Summer’s hand rested on his wrist and she felt his frantic pulse. It’s me he loves, she convinced herself.

  His youthful body screamed. He wanted to take her in his arms and make love to her. But he still wasn’t convinced of her feelings. How would it look for him to make advances toward her? She might reject him. But she didn’t appear to be interested in anyone. She had as much as said so, and she as much as called him a love one. Maybe she could learn to love a poor blind man who couldn’t remember anything or anyone?

  “I’m going to take a shower and order a pizza for us,” Summer declared, rising and reaching for her smartphone in her purse.

  Jackson headed for his room, undressed, dropped his clothes into a basket, and entered the shower. He could feel the heat of his body surge. His hungry body needed Summer. Each warm drop of water slamming his skin gave him chills as he imagined her dragging her nails down his back, asking for more of his body. With the sound of the water, he thought he heard her whispering in his ear—give me more. I need all of you.

  He tilted his head back, allowing the water to substitute for the erotic pleasure and dreams of Summer that would fill his nights.

  The heat of his body had built up to its breaking point. He switched to cold water. How much longer could he stand not making love to her? He lived with a beautiful woman, dreamed of this, but she wasn’t his. Maybe if he could cobble together enough of the money that the VA owed him he could buy her something. Maybe flowers and a dress. Women like those kind of things, he reasoned.

  Summer spent all her extra money on him and he didn’t like it, not one bit. He needed to do something. How much longer would he have to wait? He stepped out of the shower.

  Dressing, then opening the door to his room, he stumbled along the walls to get to the kitchen, where he discovered the pizza delivery boy had deposited the pizza and gone. He could smell the heaps of bubbling hot cheese, which was a familiar aroma. His face brightened and he gave Summer a wide smile, then walked to the counter and sat, reaching for the pizza. Summer rushed to his side.

  “Wait a minute, it’s too hot for you.” She handed him a can of coke, and he could hear her blowing on the pizza for him before handing a slice to him. She looked at him staring out and seeing nothing. Jackson thought about how much he liked her.

  “I have a small ranch house my father and mother left me in west Texas. I thought maybe we could drive out there next month and take a look at it, then during the summer, we can spend a few weeks out there. It would be great for you. No stress of the city and it’s cool in the summer among the trees. There is a pond for fishing. What do you say?”

  “Why are you doing this for me?” Jackson asked, turning toward Summer’s voice.

  “I’m doing this for me, as well,” she said.

  “But you’re too young to be tied down with someone like me.”

  “I’m not tied down. I want to do this, and that brings me …well, I agreed to go out to dinner and dancing with an intern. But I won’t go if you need me here.”

  Of course I need you with me, Summer. I want to be the one loving you and kissing you after a date, Jackson thought. He had become jealous. He didn’t mean for this to happen. Why was he feeling so protective of her? He wondered.

  He knew Summer was a pretty girl, even if he couldn’t see her. He didn’t need to see her. Her beauty was in her soul. He felt it every time her hand met his, and when he heard her tender voice. Her voice was soothing and made him feel secure, even as her touch caused a tingling sensation, which both calmed him and aroused him. Each night he remembered her voice in his dreams because that was the only avenue of experiencing her love.

  It was his dreams of Summer that erased the nightmare of being blind.

  He didn’t have to see her face to know that she would make a great partner, lover, and friend to any man. He wanted her for his own. He had never felt that way before. Hell, he didn’t know how he had felt before, but he knew it was new to him now, this feeling of wanting a woman exclusively. He couldn’t imagine sharing her with another man. Somehow, he knew he had no right to ask her to be his girl.

  “You don’t have to inform me when you go on a date. It’s not like I’m your boyfriend.” But Jackson wished he was something more to her, anything but a yoke around her neck.

  ***

  At nine p. m., Jackson lay on his bed with the door to his room slightly ajar. He was staring into the darkness when Summer knocked on the door and he murmured, “Come in.”

  “I’m leaving now.” She stood waiting for him to ask her a question. Ask her to stay with him. She wanted him to say, “Don’t go, Summer, stay and be with me. Never leave me.”

  “I bet you look pretty. I wish I could see you. Go before I ask you to stay,” Jackson said with a quiet voice.

  Summer was disappointed. She wanted him to beg her to stay home and wait to go dancing with him. However, she wanted him to say more: I love you, don’t go.

  They were both so lonely, and both at cross purposes, and although they were so close now, they were so far from each other.

  She walked from the room to answer the door and Jackson heard her date say, “Do you live with your father?” And he heard her say, “No, he’s my brother, his name is Adam.”

  Tears pooled in his eyes. His hands reached up and wiped the tears away, leaving him wondering why he had cried. Maybe it was the medication the doctors had given him. “Yes, medication, that was probably it,” he murmured.

  After she left, Jackson sat in the same spot for hours. He heard the time on the radio— eleven o’clock— when Summer returned. He thought it was too early, but he was happy she didn’t stay out later. She opened the door to his room to peep in on him and found the television blaring on CNN and the radio on near his bed. She walked over and turned them off. He could smell the cigarette smoke in her hair; however, he never knew her to smoke. Through the smoke he could smell her scent, which he loved. She had the smell of strawberries. He would make sure that she had an ample supply of strawberry bath oil.

  ***

  After classes on a Friday, Summer returned home early. She decided not to stop at the grocers. She would make do with what they had to eat in the pantry and use the money for things to lift Jackson’s spirit. She wondered whether Jackson would enjoy a night out.

  “How about a movie?”

  “I’m not good company,” Jackson said, holding his nervous hands.

  “We can go to the midnight showing and sit in the back and I can tell you what’s happening. What do you say?” Summer glanced at Jackson’s pale complexion. “You need some sun. Let’s go for a walk and then come back and eat pizza. Pizzas are cheap. What about it?”

  He nodded. “How can I resist a pizza and a movie with you? You have found my weakness. Every man has a price.” He smiled so bright that Summer felt a sensuous flame ignite her body.

  “I picked up such a handsome man at a bargain price,” she said with a smile and a curl of her lip. “This is better than shopping at Goodwill.”

  “And I’ve got such a beautiful, wonderful girl who deserves more than I have to give her. You deserve more.” He took her hand, lowered his head, and kissed her soft skin.

  “Stop talking about money and what you can give me. Just pretend we are newlyweds and we’re struggling…” She didn’t continue because she had dared get so comfortable with him that she likened them to newlyweds. Did she dare dream of such a union?

  His nights were filled with his dreams of Summer and each day she expressed her feelings for him.

  ***

  She took his hand and led him out of the apartment, down the stairs and through the path of trees and bushes, where a sidewalk appeared leading to the pool area and a man-made lake.

  Jackson’s intermittent stops, where he stood to extend his face up t
oward the warmth of the sun, took in the showering rays, causing him to feel full of life, and feel his youth, which had escaped him. Now he felt renewed.

  They left for the movies, only to arrive at the movie theater early. They stayed in the car, listening to music until Summer said, “It’s time.”

  Then they went in and bought their tickets. Standing in line for popcorn and sodas, holding hands and laughing, they resembled lovers on a date. When it was time to go into the theater, they sat sharing a large bag of popcorn. Occasionally he would sneak his arm around her chair and she would lean into him to whisper about the scene. After the movie, they left hand in hand, with his attentive face turned to her, smiling whenever she spoke.

  She noticed something about him, which she hadn’t taken time to observed before. She saw eagerness and tenderness on his face under the neat beard, which he wore since his stay in the hospital.

  When they arrived at the apartment, she thought that it was worth mentioning. Maybe if he could feel his shaved face, he might be able to remember something. Any sensation may bring on memories, such as going to the beach. He remembered that he could swim. Hopefully eating popcorn and pizza would stimulate Adam’s senses, Summer thought.

  He must have had some experiences as a teenager, and it wasn’t that long ago. He was maybe twenty-two or twenty-three.

  She didn’t know how Jackson would react to her suggestion but she had to try something. She was falling for him more and more each day. Desperate for him to remember something, Summer inhaled and broached the subject.

  “Adam, let me give you a shave—or if you’re afraid I have a nervous hand, I have enough money to pay for one.” Summer waited for a reaction. Jackson’s expression didn’t change. He remained silent. “Why do you keep that beard? It’s not a lot, but I can’t really see your face.”

  Jackson’s smile turned to tired sadness and he tightened his lips. Summer didn’t want to see him upset and she added, “I should say, I want to see that handsome face of yours.”

  “I keep the beard, I guess, …” he said, pausing to think, “because I’m hiding behind it. I don’t want to be seen. The beard makes me feel secure.” He ran his hand over his square jaw covered in soft thick hair.

  “You’ll have to come out of hiding someday, Adam.” Summer walked to the television and turned on the sports channel. She noticed that he had a smile on his face whenever he heard cheers from the crowds at a football game filling the room, and he came to life whenever a channel was tuned to sports. There was something there to spark a reaction and that’s what she was trying to do.

  “Until then, if it doesn’t bother you, I’ll keep the beard,” he said, stroking it.

  “It doesn’t affect me in the least. I just wish I knew the real you.”

  “I wish I knew the real me,” he said, facing the direction of the television. And Summer left him sitting with the remote in his hand and she went to her room.

  ***

  When Summer had time off from her studies, her babysitting job and her volunteer work, she would sit with Jackson and question him about his past. She tried to do what the doctors were unable to do. Then she thought of something she had seen the social workers try with the soldiers. The social workers would ask them to write down their thoughts about how they felt about their lives.

  Summer brought home a small recorder and reminded him that he should express his innermost feelings. Then she handed him several composition books. He turned to her. “What am I to do with these?”

  “They’re for when you regain your sight,” she said with a large smile. “Think positive.”

  Summer would pass his room and see him facing an open window and recording his thoughts. His confused face searching for a word. His voice searching for answers as to why he chose a specific word.

  ***

  After a month, they drove out of Houston on I-10 west, heading in the direction of San Antonio.

  “Do you want to see the Alamo?”

  “The Alamo? Why not?”

  “Do you even know what the Alamo is?” Summer questioned with her mouth turning upwards into a smile.

  “No, but you will tell me.” His face turned in the direction of Summer. He wore a gentle, brilliant smile like no other—bright with a full set of white straight teeth. She had only seen teeth like that in fashion magazines. She asked herself for the umpteenth time whether he could be a model. Clearly, this was a man who had taken care of his body all his life. What could have caused him to enlist in the army? And clearly he wasn’t from Texas. How could he forget about the Alamo?

  “You are my angel, Summer. I may not have a memory of my past, but you are giving me memories for my future.”

  Wow, that sounds positive, Summer thought. But Summer had to remind herself that he could be someone’s husband and father.

  “My house isn’t far.” She had driven three hours and there was little traffic, with the exception of driving through San Antonio and stopping at the Alamo.

  She turned down a paved road, driving by an occasional trailer home, and then she spotted the small ranch-style house with a lake on the left side. She drove up the cement driveway. “My father had this driveway laid before he died. It was supposed to be his retirement home.”

  The car came to a stop. Summer jumped out and Jackson followed, standing with his head raised to the sky. “The air smells so fresh and it’s quiet out here.”

  “Do you like it?” Summer asked, facing Jackson.

  “I would like it anywhere you are, my angel.” Summer had gotten use to Jackson calling her ‘my angel’ and she reacted as if it was second nature, answering him whenever he referred to her in that endearing way.

  “We can stay a week. My doctor gave me two weeks’ pay; he was generous. It will pay for food and gas and other necessities. There’s nothing to do but talk, read, and listen to the radio and the world about us. Do you think you can stand being around me that long?” Summer inquired. She watched as a smile crossed his face but he didn’t respond to her question.

  He could live with just the two of them if they were the only ones on this earth, he thought.

  “The whole house is already furnished. There are only two bedrooms. It’s not a large house but it has an open design, like your apartment. It will be easy to clean. And you won’t bump into anything.

  “Is that what you think, Summer? That all I need is quiet and clean air?” Jackson asked, hoping for a miracle—hoping that Summer was his miracle.

  “It can’t hurt. Come with me to get the groceries and clothes out of the car.”

  He held on to her shirt as she led him to the trunk. He reached for the bags and lifted them out, clutching them with one hand, as if holding on to a football, while following the direction of Summer’s voice.

  “You’re a gorgeous man, Adam. I wish you could see yourself,” Summer said, teasing him and touching his rock-hard arms.

  “You know how to flirt with a guy,” he said.

  “I have to stay in practice just…” She didn’t complete the sentence. She didn’t want to hurt his feelings.

  After placing the groceries on the counter, he said, “The better to carry you over the threshold, my dear.” And he scooped Summer into his arms, kissing her.

  His kiss was soft, long, and demanding. He knew how to kiss a woman, but she was afraid to admit that she needed a kiss. His kiss signaled that he was a man who knew how to love a woman, and she needed some loving bad, and soon. She leaned her lips to his lips and he opened his mouth wide. Summer’s tongue mingled with his. She sucked it with ease. The heat coursing through her body was indescribable, but if she had to put it to words—his kiss was white hot. It seared her body and burned her soul and left an invisible mark.

  That kiss reminded her of the day Jackson Van Hughes French kissed her near an oak tree in front of their high school, which delivered her into his arms. Later, he took her to his bedroom and she didn’t care who whispered. But although she wanted to give herse
lf to him, he would have nothing to do with it. She begged him that night, but he said that she was too young and that one day they would find each other and she would be a woman then, and he would marry her.

  She was still a virgin when she left his party.

  Now, five years later, she was still waiting for him. Would she wait her whole life for the boy she once loved? She knew the answer to that. She kissed Adam as if he was her one and only lover, which she hoped he would be.

  “I love you, Summer,” Jackson said with a breathless moan, cradling her in his arms.

  “Put me down, Adam. You don’t know me and I don’t know anything about you. Did it occur to you that you’re probably married? You have children, a wife…”

  “You have created a life for me, Summer. But it’s not my life.” Jackson spoke strong, yet with a gentle tone. His eyes welled with tears but he held them back.

  “Can’t we just enjoy each other’s friendship without all the complications?” Summer asked, gesturing for Jackson to place her on the floor. His face never left hers as he set her on her feet.

  “Why are you running from love?” Jackson asked, anticipating her movements and stepping in front of her.

  “Because everyone I’ve loved has left me or I’ve had to leave them.” Summer walked away from Jackson; he stood in the middle of the floor in his darkness. He placed his hand on the wall and found the nearest bedroom and lay across the bed facing a window. He fell asleep quickly and later woke. A full moon’s light bled through his curtain-less window. A trickle of light caught his eyes. He rubbed them and then his eyes focused on the trees and then the house in a far distance.

  He could see it.

  I can see. I can see? How can that be? All these days and not a flicker of hope? How does this happen? Am I dreaming? I take a nap and wake and I can see just like that. This doesn’t happen. Maybe it’s a mistake and I’m imagining there are lights in the distance, he thought.