“There isn’t much else to talk about then, is there?” He cleared his throat, his eyes filled. “You have to want to be with me, want to make it work however possible. And you don’t.”
“You could visit me,” she whispered, then damned herself. That would just prolong the agony and leave a wretched parting like this every time they had to separate again.
He looked away and considered that for a moment. “For what reason, Summer? Tell me.”
The words stuck in her throat. She knew he wanted to hear “I love you”. She couldn’t bind him to her that way, because the trying would again only bring pieces of their lives together. She loved him, respected him just the way he was.
He rose to his feet at her silence. The loss of his warmth beside her radiated in her pores, her breath, and her heart.
“What about the house?” He faced the front door, his hand on the knob.
Her throat closed, tears flowing. She couldn’t answer for a minute. “I can’t. Move into it. I can’t now. Please. Please move into it, take care of it like it was yours. We’ll talk to your father, figure out something.”
She wanted to hold him one last time, kiss him goodbye, but he opened the door.
He hesitated a moment and took an audible breath. “You know how to find me.” He left, never looking back.
“Goodbye, Tom,” she whispered.
She sat on the stairs and watched the sun move across the floor, shredding tissues and struggling with her emotions. Finally, she gathered her things. She walked through her grandmother’s garden and picked a bouquet of wildflowers to take with her.
In the driveway, she stared at the house for a long time, remembering, and wishing the bitter memories of her grandfather and Miranda weren’t blended with those poignant, intimate ones of Tom.
Finally, she drove away.
She stopped at the city limits.
Last time the choice had been hard. Fueled by righteous justification, anger carried her scared teenager self to California.
This time a choking, clawing emptiness gripped her throat. This time she cried.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Tom pulled into his grandmother’s driveway and parked behind Chad’s old red truck. He got out and walked up the house, hearing the clank of tools against metal. The heat of August had changed to a balmy eighty-degree September.
For three weeks, he buried himself in a full schedule with no days off, hoping to recover from Summer’s departure. It wasn’t working. If anything, he was missing her more. The chief had ordered him to take a vacation day, and since Thursdays weren’t his normal day off, he was out of sorts and lonely. His parents were due back from Italy on Saturday. Meg and Bret had gone on vacation to the Padre Islands, due back tomorrow. Boo and Lindy started school. He’d done some minor work at Summer’s house this morning and stopped at Slade’s Antiques to browse.
Nothing cauterized the bleeding.
He rubbed his chest, trying to ease the tightness and took in the scene in front of the garage. The hood was up on the Cougar. Parts were laid out at the edge of the driveway in a precision more exacting than his grandmother’s recipe box. Chad leaned over the engine, an oily rag stuck in his back jeans pocket. His grandmother’s flowered yellow tennis shoes peeked out from underneath the car.
Chad raised his head. “Hey, you want to hand me that wrench?”
“Who’s here?” His grandmother’s voice floated from under mid-car.
“Tom.”
Olivia scooted out. Her overalls were greasy, so were her hands and face, and she grinned at him with a happiness that made Tom grin back at her. “Aren’t you too old to be under that car, young lady? What would Doc Garrison say?”
“Most fun I’ve had in ages, so he can zip it.” Olivia laid her wrench on the driveway. Tom reached out a hand and helped her to her feet, earning grease all over his hands too. “Can I help?”
Olivia’s eyebrows rose. “No, dear. We’re fine.” She toddled off to the garage.
He sighed in relief. His mechanical skills weren’t on par with his grandmother’s demanding standards, and he wasn’t in the mood to even try today.
“You should get a tractor. Then she’d let you help.” Chad grinned and wiped off his hands.
Tom snorted. “I’ll get right on that.”
“First day off I’ve taken in weeks, and I volunteered to help Grandma.” Chad rolled his eyes, then sobered. “You okay?”
Tom took Chad’s rag and wiped his hands. “No. According to Jonathan, Summer’s back in San Francisco, prepping for her art show. I shipped him all her paintings. I had two agonizing conversations with her, making everything worse from hearing her voice and knowing nothing’s changed.”
Olivia returned with a parts list in her hand, put an arm around his waist and gave him a hug he felt all the way to his sore soul. “Keep trying, dear. Don’t give up. Sometimes the road to love is pretty bumpy.”
Tom hesitated, reluctant to voice what he’d been thinking. “I’m contemplating whether I can leave here and go be with her.”
He watched Chad’s face first. His mouth fell open, and Tom didn’t like the flash of agony in his eyes before he masked it. He was afraid to look at his grandmother, but she put a finger up and turned his chin. She gave him a gentle smile. “That’s the ticket.”
“It feels like ripping out a part of me,” he admitted. “Family, my job.”
Olivia took his face in her hands. “Not lost, though, just reshaped. What would love be worth if you didn’t have to work for it, hmm? Sometimes you need to rip to get new growth. Love’s worth it.”
He wrapped his arms around her and held her close for a minute. Of everyone, he’d miss her the most. He looked at Chad, dreading his answer.
Chad sat on the bumper of the car and peered at him for several long seconds. “I don’t like it, but a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do.”
The raw honesty pierced him.
Olivia agreed. “Or a woman. I waited for your grandfather during WWII, and I followed him to law school. Missed this town and my family, but I felt so alive when I was with Thomas. You feel that way about Summer, I know you do.”
He swallowed hard against the emotion clawing up from his chest. He did.
“I would have gone anywhere to be with Robin and the girls,” Chad said, quietly. “Anywhere. If that helps.”
Tom rubbed at the ache near his heart. “It helps.”
££££££
Two days later, Tom took a graveyard patrol shift on purpose. He stayed out until the sun rose. The Saturday night had been quiet, an anomaly he wouldn’t question. He stopped his patrol car near Mrs. Heigl’s and waited. The sun splashed onto the sky in muted purples. Seconds later, those tones were outshone by a brilliant orange streaked with ribbons of pink.
He’d struggled for weeks with an overwhelming devastation, with anger at Summer over leaving. He accepted the need to share the whole of what they were with each other, but he’d done that. And yet, Chad’s words kept playing in his head,I would have gone anywhere to be with Robin and the girls.
He’d been holding back, not making that kind of commitment because it meant throwing all in— committing to her, not to a place, not to a lifestyle, but to her. How could he condemn her for walking away, when he was keeping both feet planted inthislife, as if it was more important than her?
He’d reasoned his way to that question in the dead of night, on the corner by Summer’s house. He was going after her, and he was going to do whatever it took to make her his. He just had to tell his family, the chief, and friends he’d had for a lifetime.
He lingered over the sunrise until there was nothing left to see. His fingers shook as he put the car in gear to go back to the station. Yet the rest of him calmed, relieved with the decision—telling him it was the right one.
Going off shift, he slept all day and woke up only an hour before family dinner with his cell phone blasting out “Swingtown.”
Summer!
He rolled out of bed and dashed to his dresser where he’d left it plugged in and glanced at the caller ID.
Meg.
Knees weak, he let the call go over to voice mail and went to shower and dress.
At his grandmother’s, he parked at the curb so he wouldn’t be trapped in the driveway. Chad and Robin had arrived and were getting Boo, Lindy, and Ben out of the vehicle.
“Uncle Tom!” Lindy ran and jumped into his arms. The hug melted his heart. Boo wasn’t far behind, except she just took his hand and squeezed, swinging his arm as they walked up the drive. She had her hair curled and wore a pretty blue summer dress. Lindy’s hair was in a ponytail and she had on denim shorts, an extreme change in twin habits.
Robin trailed behind, carrying a sleeping Ben, with Chad packing the baby stuff. At the top of the driveway near the back door sat his mother’s new car. So his folks were here too.
His dad was at the grill in the backyard with the sizzle of steaks and the aroma made his mouth water.
“Hi, Dad.” He waved.
“Come join me for a minute,” his dad beckoned. The girls squirmed to be released.
“Let me find Mom and Grandma first.” Tom grinned as the twin’s wrapped their arms around Grandpa Bill’s legs. Tom took the stairs two at a time to the back door.
His grandmother’s kitchen smelled like baked beans and apple pie. With one inhale, he relaxed. They hadn’t had a family Sunday since his parents left for Italy. The ritual of the gathering soothed his rough mood. They loved him, and he loved Summer. They would understand, and somehow, some way, he would make this work.
Helen Applegate was on the phone being mayor, sitting on a stool at the counter and scribbling on a piece of paper. She wore white shorts and a bright yellow top and looked tanned and rested and beautiful. He kissed her cheek, nodded when she mouthed she wanted to talk to him, and went to his grandmother at the stove.
She had on red Capri pants and a white T-shirt with an angel on the front and had grease under her nails from mechanic work. He lifted her off her feet in a bear hug. “I love you. I think I worked it out,” he whispered in her ear. He set her on her feet.
She kept her hand on his arm. “Are you going after her?”
He looked up at the rainbow sun catcher in her kitchen window. “Yeah, I have to,” he said, quietly.
“Good.” She went back to stirring the baked beans.
He kissed her cheek again. “Don’t say anything. I want to tell everyone.”
She nodded. “Your story to tell.”
His father came in then with two chattering magpies, and Tom slipped away from his grandmother to relieve his father of the meat tray. Robin and Chad were behind him with a flushed Ben, just awakened from his nap.
“Rick and Tara and the troops are just around the corner,” Bill said, leading the twins to the table where he sat and lifted one on each knee.
“Meg and Bret are in the house,” his sister announced, entering from the swinging doors to the dining room. “What smells so good?”
Boo streaked to Bret. She stopped and turned a pirouette. He gamely admired her dress before lifting her into his arms. Meg made a beeline to Tom. “I tried to call you.”
He made a show of taking out his cell phone and looking, finding her number. “Must have been in the shower.”
“I wanted to talk to you,” she moved closer and whispered just for him to hear. “Have you talked to Summer?”
He shook his head. “We can talk about it at dinner.”
Her brow rose, but Rick arrived with wife and kids, and the house was full of talking family.
“Dinner’s ready,” his grandmother shouted over the din.
Food was brought to the table. Chairs were assigned. His grandmother and dad sat at the ends of the table. The rest of the family filled in. Blessing was said. Plates were filled while his parents described a bit of their trip.
Lindy broke the subject. “Where’s pretty lady?” All eyes looked at Tom.
He cleared his throat. “She had to leave. She had a big painting project.”
“When is she coming back?” Lindy’s eyes were the deepest green.
Tom licked his lips. “She’s not, honey. I’m going to her.”
He didn’t know where to look first, so he settled his gaze back on Lindy.
“Why?” she asked, leaning against him.
“Because I love her, and want to be with her,” he answered, softly. He was inordinately aware of the silence in the room.
“That means you’d live someplace else?” She reached for his hand.
“Yes, it would.” He finally got the nerve to look around the table, starting with his mother. She gave him a tremulous smile. Robin fought tears, but gave him a thumbs up.
“I bet pretty lady misses you. Mommy used to cry herself to sleep without Daddy.”
That thought washed over him, along with hope and a desperate need to hold Summer. Boo brushed her hair from her face. “Sometimes you have to leave a house you like to make a home someplace else. That’s what Mommy said when we moved.”
“She’s right.” Robin wiped her tears and reached for Chad’s hand.
Meg leaned against him on the other side and took his hand. “Go after her. She’s ours.”
“You sure she doesn’t want to live here?” Rick asked. “I thought she had to by the terms of the will.”
Tom looked at his father, and he shrugged, obviously having more faith than Tom did. Tom turned back to Rick. “Apparently, it’s going to be our home away from home. I’m not sure yet. I’m going to San Francisco tomorrow. I have to do this on her terms. I have to be willing to do that. It’s what love is all about.”
“That’s the truth right there, son. It’ll work out,” his father said, smiling at his mother from the end of the table.
It was a subdued, but happy dinner after that, with questions thrown at him here and there. If his grandmother, mother, sister, and nieces held him a little tighter when they said goodbye, he tried not to let that affect the lump in his throat.
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Summer sketched in the lines of the baseball field on her pad, the charcoal leaving black marks on her hands. The colors wouldn’t leave her be. She’d envisioned this scene this morning. The point of view she wanted for this next painting was vivid, and she needed to get it out of her head.
Satellite radio played softly in the background and when “Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me” began, she slapped the off button on the console. Pain throbbed in her heart, in every breath, in her soul. When would she start to heal?
She glanced out the window, automatically seeking comfort in the garden there. She sighed against the forgotten realization that this garden didn’t hold the sights and sounds, the smells and feel ofthat precious garden. This one was a sham and a lie. She never touched the flowers, never walked the paths, and certainly never weeded.
Night was falling, darkening that area and muting the colors. The room darkened too. She should turn on a light.
She sketched some more and lurched when the lights turned on as if in response to her thought. Jonathan stood in the doorway looking handsome in a dinner suit. His cat, Suzy, trailed in his wake. “Only you would come in here to work, half an hour before a big dinner downstairs. And in a Mikaelina Hess original dress no less. My mother doesn’t send you her designs for you to paint in them.”
His dry tone made her take a closer look at him to be sure he wasn’t angry. The midnight blue chiffon belted dress swished around her knees and she checked to be sure the fabric was unmarked. “I’m not painting in it, just drawing.”
“As if that makes it better.” He pulled up a stool and sat, crossing his arms. Suzy padded under her table and sat near her feet.
“What’s going on,cher? You’ve been out of sorts since we turned down Darrell Proctor.”
Since I left Tom.
She thought it, but didn’t say it. They’d carefully avoided talking about the state of her lo
ve life. She tossed the charcoal in her drawing box. “Well being wife number six wasn’t quite on my agenda.”
“What are you doing, Summer?”
Apparently, not talking about the state of her love life wasn’t going to be the case anymore. She gave him a puzzled look, stalling. “Sketching out a new painting.”
He rose and looked at her sketchpad. “A baseball field?”
“Yeah, from the day I went to the little league fields with Tom.” She studied the lines. Jonathan sat again and looked at her for a long moment. “Why are you doing this? If I had a woman who loved me as much as Tom loves you, I’d be there with the ring.”
She took a rag and wiped her hands, smearing the charcoal. “All women love you.”
“Yeah, they love the money, the power, the prestige, even the looks,cher. But the real man inside—they don’t want him. When I find the woman who does, well…I haven’t found her yet.”
His desolate look intensified her depression, and she didn’t know what to say. “Sorry” didn’t seem appropriate.
He gazed at her intently. “If you’d apply even half the emotion and heart you put in your paintings to your life, you’d be happier.”
“Why don’t you tell me how you really feel,” she scolded, dropping the rag back on the table.
“What’s stopping you,cher? What exactly is it?”
She’d had three weeks of utter misery, with nothing but time to paint and think. She’d thought she’d left Echo Falls for good reasons, left Tom for good reasons.
But her emotions and her logic were even more jumbled now than when she’d attempted to explain to Tom on that last day in Echo Falls. It was like dumping random ingredients in the mixer and turning it on. Nothing was mixed right, nothing settled into anything recognizable. Her life was more broken than ever.
“I told him we were both only bringing pieces of ourselves to the relationship, and we couldn’t make a life unless we each could be who we really were.”
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