Hot Summer

by Judy Powell

  ******

  Edna took one look at her daughter’s face and said, “Something’s not right with you, Summer. What’s going on?”

  Summer sat down and rested her handbag on a nearby stool. “Oh, nothing. Just tired, that’s all.”

  “Don’t give me that,” Edna cut in. “You’ve always shared your problems with me, so don’t start holding back now. Tell me what’s wrong.”

  Summer sighed then began. “There’s this man… at work. When I first met him I couldn’t stand a bone in his body. He just… rubbed me the wrong way, you know? But now…I can’t get him out of my mind. I still don’t even know if I like him. But…” she looked at her mother with a frown, “…I think I’m in love with him.”

  Edna nodded slowly then said, “I can see you’re confused. You’re really attracted to this man but I bet I know what the problem is. He’s probably got a very strong personality that’s constantly in conflict with yours.” When Summer nodded her mother smiled and asked, “So tell me, why do you think you’re in love with him?”

  “I guess it’s because…he’s the only man who makes me feel like I want to be around him all the time. But then it’s so weird because when I’m with him I end up acting like a complete fool.”

  “So, let me understand this - you feel you’re in love with this man but he makes you feel crazy. So that’s why you came in here all depressed?”

  “No,” she sighed. “I found out he’s seeing someone.”

  Edna looked thoughtful then said, “He’s told you he’s in a relationship?”

  “No, but he doesn’t have to tell me that. Just this evening I saw them leaving the office together. I sure don’t need any more than that to know what’s going on.”

  “Be careful you’re not jumping to the wrong conclusion. Here’s a thought.” Edna touched her temple and feigned a look of realization. “Why don’t you just ask him how he feels about you?”

  “But that’s crazy.” Summer was incredulous. “You really expect me to do that?

  “It just might work.”

  “Yeah, and it just might make me end up looking like a worse fool. You’ve always given me good advice, Ma, but this time,” Summer shook her head, “I don’t know.”

  “Well, instead of asking him how he feels why don’t you let him know how you feel about him?”

  “But it’s like the same thing, isn’t it?”

  “Not really. You don’t have to come out and say it. You can just show him in subtle ways. Feel him out. Test the waters, so to speak.”

  “You mean I should flirt with him?” Summer frowned at her mother.

  “Whatever you want to call it, Summer, I just think you need to stop sitting there feeling sorry for yourself and do something about it. Find out how he truly feels about you. Throw him a bone. If he doesn’t bite then just leave it alone. But you just can’t give up without even trying.” Edna shrugged. “That is, if you’re really in love with him, like you say.”

  “I think I am, Mom. But I’m scared.”

  “Of what?”

  “Of getting hurt.” She looked away. “Like you.”

  “Come on now, Summer. You can’t think like that.”

  “But I do think about that. I know you loved Dad so much and look what he did to you.” Summer bit her lip as the memories came flooding back. “He hurt you so much and it was because he knew you loved him too much to leave him. I don’t want that to happen to me.”

  “Hush, child. That doesn’t have to happen to you. You and I are two different people so we’ll react to situations in different ways.” Edna reached over and squeezed her hand. “You’re strong. You’ll survive. But you can’t keep hiding away from relationships because you’re scared of getting hurt.”

  “I know…”

  “No, I don’t think so. You don’t know what it’s like for me to know that I’ll be departing this world some day soon, leaving my little girl all alone. That worries me, Summer.”

  “Mom, don’t talk like that,” Summer pleaded.

  “I have to. It’s reality. One of these days I won’t be around and I would love to know there’s someone there for you. I pray for you all the time.” Her voice grew softer. “I pray that, before I die, my daughter will find the happiness that I was looking for.”

  “Mom, don’t.”

  “No, Summer. Let me speak.” She folded her arms across her chest and continued. “I’ve watched you reject young men who seemed nice, genuine. You can’t keep doing that, Sugar, or else you’ll wake up one day to find out that you’re my age and all alone in the world. I worry about you, Summer.”

  “Please, Mom, I can take care of myself.”

  “I know you can, honey. But it’s hard being alone.” She touched Summer’s cheek gently then looked at her earnestly. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying you should throw yourself at the man. I didn’t raise my daughter that way. All I’m saying is that, in life, we have to go for what we want.”

  “I hear you, Mom,” Summer said softly.

  ******

  Lance remained silent as Monisha chatted on about her last performance in Atlanta.

  “That’s my biggest market. I’m sure of it. Those people love me.” He smiled and nodded as he had been doing all night, trying to look interested.

  He still had the plastic smile pasted on his face when she scolded, “Lance, you’re not listening to me.”

  “I heard everything you said.” He brought his eyes back to her face.

  “I doubt it. You haven’t really been with me all evening. Are you alright?” She reached out a hand and stroked his arm.

  “I’m fine, Monisha. Really,” he said, trying not to sound bored. “Now tell me some more about the people in Atlanta who really love you.”

  “Well, at least you heard that part.” She smiled back then began her story again, totally oblivious to his true feelings.

  As had been happening all evening her voice soon faded into the background and his responses became mechanical and vague. Despite his calm exterior Lance’s mind was in turmoil. His thoughts were on the woman he had left back at the office.

  Summer had really impressed him with her work this week. He always knew she would be an asset to his business but she had attacked her projects with such passion and represented herself with a maturity that was beyond her years.

  But it was not only her work that he had on his mind. The girl was beginning to grow on him in a way that no woman ever had. He looked forward to seeing her each day he walked into the office although he made sure no-one could ever tell. His interaction with her was nothing less than professional.

  “And do you know what she said about me?” Monisha’s sharp voice sliced through his thoughts. “She said I was ‘ghetto-fabulous’. I could’ve ripped the face off that girl, I was so mad.”

  Not waiting for a response she went on to give her opinion of her adversary and Lance continued to respond at appropriate times but all he was doing at that moment was wishing that it was Summer who sat across from him. He found her so stimulating. He knew without a doubt that she wouldn’t be spending her time talking about some woman and her clothes.

  “Lance, you’re not listening to me.” Monisha frowned at him, then said, “You’ve been so distracted all evening that I’m beginning to wonder if you want to be here with me at all.”

  “Come off it, Monisha,” Lance said in an exasperated tone.

  “No, I’m serious. Am I boring you? Because, if I am, you can just take me home right now. I certainly don’t want to be a bother to you.”

  “Monisha, just calm down,” he said firmly. “You don’t need to create a scene.”

  “Well, you’d better take me home, then.” She folded her arms and set her mouth in a pout.

  He fixed her with a hard stare, then sighed. “Alright, we’ll leave, then.”

  He beckoned for the check and within minutes they were in his car. As he started the engine he glanced at the woman sulking in her seat and saw tha
t her lips were trembling. He didn’t know if this was out of anger or hurt but the sight of this new, vulnerable side of Monisha touched him.

  Suddenly, instead of feeling angry, he felt guilty. He’d been using her as a mere distraction and she didn’t deserve that.

  “Monisha, I’m sorry.”

  She seemed surprised as she looked up at him.

  Lance bit his lip, guessing he didn’t do this kind of thing often enough. “I’ve been a real jerk tonight and I apologize.” He gave her a puppy-dog look and smiled. “Forgive me?”

  Her face lightened and a smile softened her lips. “Of course, I do. You know I can’t stay mad at you.” She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “Just don’t shut me out like that again, okay?”

  He nodded and touched her cheek then said, “Now let’s get you home.”

  When they pulled up in front of Monisha’s apartment building on Wacker Drive she turned to him. “Why don’t you come up for a minute?”

  “It’s been a long evening, Monisha.” He shook his head. “I’m a bit tired and I’m sure you are, too.”

  “Come on,” she cajoled. “Just for a minute. I got a gorgeous new painting and I want you to see it.”

  “You’re only saying that because you know art is my weakness.”

  “Come on.”

  She spoke in a tiny voice and looked so pleading that he finally said, “Okay, I’ll come up. But just for a little while.”

  The painting really was beautiful. It was done by a local Chicago artist who was renowned for his landscapes and nature scenes. This time he had painted the Chicago skyline in deep purple hues, and had accentuated the deep color of the buildings by painting Lake Michigan in silver.

  “I must admit, you do have an eye for good work. This is your best one yet, Monisha,” Lance said, impressed.

  “Thanks. I’m planning to visit the gallery again this month. I need just one more, for the panel at the top of the stairs.”

  As she spoke she walked over to him and rested her hands on his chest. She lifted her head and kissed him lightly on the lips then pushed him back so that he was forced to sit down in the sofa behind him. “Why don’t you just relax and let me make you a cup of coffee?”

  The plump sofa was comfortable and warm and he relaxed into its depths. He was just beginning to realize how tired he really was. “Thanks. I could do with some perking up. Keep me awake for the drive back to my place.”

  As Monisha headed off towards the kitchen Lance leaned back in the couch and closed his eyes. It had been a hectic week for him and he was looking forward to some relaxation on the weekend. He planned to stay at home all day Saturday and drive out to see his mother Sunday afternoon. He had no other plans outside of that and he liked it that way. He could do with a quiet weekend once in a while. With that thought he drifted off.

  Lance woke with a start when something cool touched his face. His eyes flew open and Monisha was leaning over him, her hand on his cheek.

  “Wake up, honey. I brought your coffee.”

  He groaned softly, rubbed his eyes then blinked to clear his vision. It was then that he noticed that Monisha didn’t have a cup in her hand but was standing before him in a sheer black teddy.

  He began to straighten from his slouched position but before he could move any farther she pushed him back into the couch and pressed her body against his. She raised her lips to his mouth but he gripped her upper arms and firmly put her away from him.

  “What are you doing?” Monisha’s voice was sharp with disbelief.

  “Monisha, I can’t.”

  “What do you mean you can’t?” At first she looked confused then her face contorted in anger.

  “What the hell is going on here?” she demanded.

  “I’m tired, Monisha. I just need to go home now.”

  “Tiredness never stopped you before.” Monisha’s eyes were like shards of glass as she spat the words at him. “You have some nerve coming up in here and then acting as if you’re Mr. High and Mighty and too good for me. I was good enough for you before, so what’s with this frontin’?”

  “It has nothing to do with you, girl. It’s me. I’m just not in the mood right now.”

  “You haven’t been in the mood all night, Lance. Just level with me.” Monisha put her hands on her hips. “What exactly is going on?”

  “There’s nothing going on-” he began, but she cut in abruptly.

  “I know what’s wrong. It’s a woman, isn’t it? You’ve gone and found yourself some woman and now it’s time to kick me to the curb.”

  Monisha paced the floor as she fumed. “I’ve always known it. It’s like I’m not good enough for you. I’ve never been good enough for you.”

  “Monisha. Stop it.” He tried to sound firm but his voice only came out exasperated.

  “Why don’t you ever tell me that you love me?”

  Lance looked at her face, which was angry and pleading at the same time; he was almost overcome by his feeling of guilt but had no idea how he could diminish her pain. He was not prepared to lie to avoid hurting her feelings. She had known he wasn’t interested in a relationship with her but had persisted in starting something and now, despite what she had said earlier, she was demanding more.

  “Let’s not go there,” he said, and got up to leave.

  “Where do you think you’re going? You can’t just leave me like this. I won’t let you.”

  “You can’t stop me.” His voice was grim.

  “You bastard,” she rasped through clenched teeth, “I hate you.”

  “Now do you see why I was against this in the first place?” Lance shook his head. “I’m going to leave before we both say something we regret.”

  Even as he walked out the door Lance could hear Monisha’s shrieks but he steeled his heart and kept on walking.

  Back in his apartment he lay flat on his back on the bed and contemplated what had just happened. Against his better judgment he’d gone out with Monisha a few times. Then she started getting attached and he backed away from her. He had succeeded in holding her at bay for months until that night in Jamaica when he’d grabbed at her to save himself from drowning in the dilemma that was Summer Jones.

  That was the worst thing he could have done. Monisha became so demanding and possessive that he had to remind her that he had never made any commitment to her. That didn’t seem to matter. Because they’d gone out together she seemed to think that he was hers. Well, it would end now. After that scene there was no way he could continue down that path.

  Lance rolled over onto his stomach and pressed the remote. The television popped on and ‘According to Jim’ came into view. He watched the show for a while but his mind kept drifting off, not to the black-eyed beauty he’d been with tonight but to a petite girl with coppery hair.

  Monisha had talked about love tonight. She spoke the truth when she said he’d never told her he loved her. It was a statement he didn’t take lightly; and he had no intention of saying it unless he meant it.

  Love – what was it, anyway? He’d thought he’d found it once, but then she left him for one of his college buddies. Then he thought of how the memory of Summer made his heart race. Did this mean he was in love with her? He wasn’t sure. All he knew was that she was making him crazy just thinking about her. The problem was she’d gone and fallen for his cousin and he was not the type to pursue a woman who was already taken.

  Lance turned his attention back to the television. He flipped through the channels trying to find a good movie, anything to take his mind off Summer, but the more he tried to forget the more vividly she came to his mind. He looked at is watch – it was almost ten o’clock. She’d probably be in bed by now but still he found himself leaning over to reach for the phone. He just felt an urge to hear her voice. He dialed and waited, not anxious but just a little bit nervous. The phone rang once, twice, then by the fifth ring her voicemail chipped in and he knew she was not home.

  He slammed the phone down, angry
with himself for being such a fool. It was Friday night; the girl was bound to be out with Derrick. He was acting like some love-sick school boy. From now on he was going to leave her alone. It was no use hiding his head in the sand. She was gone.

  ******

  Summer pushed the door and entered the apartment. She switched on the light and walked over to the sofa where she threw her handbag in the corner. Her mouth felt dry and she went straight to the kitchen. She returned to the living room with a bottle of water then sat down and took a long drink. She was so thirsty that the water tasted sweet in her mouth. She downed almost half the bottle before she leaned back, stifling a yawn.

  The clock on the wall said ten thirty-two.

  No wonder she was so tired. She had left straight from work and had spent the whole evening with her mother. She smiled as she remembered one of the stories her mother had told her tonight – she was always giving her jokes about the old days.

  She picked up the phone and punched in her voicemail code. There were two messages. Brian had called to check up on her. She looked up at the clock again and thought about returning his call but then decided it was too late. She would buzz him in the morning instead.

  She deleted the message and listened to the next one. Someone else had called but hadn’t left a message. The voice message system gave the telephone number and she jotted it down on the pad she kept on the table. She frowned. Somehow the number looked familiar but she just couldn’t place it. All she knew was that it was a Chicago number. It was probably one of her college mates giving her a buzz. She could find that out easily enough.

  She dug into her purse for her tiny phone book and began to check the numbers of the few people she had in mind. As she searched, her thoughts went back to the conversation she’d had with her mother.

  What her Mom said made sense. She had a feeling Lance really liked her and maybe it was time to find out for sure. She had never before believed in leaving things to fate – she’d always believed in creating opportunities rather than waiting for things to happen to her. Why stop now?