by Judy Powell
Lance had left for Florida two days before and she planned to get a lot of work done before he got back. She walked slowly down the aisles collecting books for her project then took them to a nearby table where she had pencils and sheets of paper ready to gather notes. She sat down, opened the first book, and began to scribble quickly.
She was engrossed in her work when she heard a hiss and looked up to see a short dark-haired girl approaching her table.
“Hey, Summer. Long time no see. What you been up to?”
“Hey, Keisha.” She gave a little wave. “I’ve been around. Just not living in the library like I used to.”
“Last time I saw you, you were job-hunting. How’d you make out with that?”
“I got a job down at The Southern Belle. But I left after a couple of weeks. I’m with Munroe Productions now.”
Keisha paused, thinking, then said, “Never heard of it. What kind of a place is that?”
“It’s a music management and production company. The office isn’t too far from here.”
“Hey, wait a minute. Music. Munroe? This doesn’t have anything to do with Lance Munroe, does it?”
“Yes, that’s who I work for.”
Keisha let out a squeal then covered her mouth quickly. She slid into the chair opposite Summer and whispered, “Girl, you’re so lucky. How did you ever land a job with Lance Munroe? He’s a hunk.”
Summer smiled and nodded but said nothing, afraid to even mention anything to the college gossip. Keisha seemed not to notice her lack of response.
“Come on, girl. What’s he like?” she prodded.
“He’s a very nice man. Very professional.” Summer was nonchalant.
“That’s it? I know you don’t expect me to believe that’s all there is.”
When Summer hesitated she pressed on. “”There’s something you’re not telling me. I can feel it.” She stared intently at Summer’s face then, as if she had been given a revelation, she exclaimed, “He hit on you, didn’t he?”
“No, he didn’t.”
“I bet he did. I know the type. Big shot mogul, I bet he hits on all the women who come through his door. So come on, girl,” she urged, “stop being so tight. Let’s hear it.”
“Keisha, please,” she said, getting exasperated, “there’s nothing to tell.”
“Come on, Summer…”
“Keisha.” Her tone was suddenly cold. “I have an urgent deadline to meet so, if you don’t mind, I’d like to get back to my work.”
Keisha glared at Summer. She pushed back her chair and grabbed her purse. “Well, you try to be friendly to some people…” She stalked off, her mouth set in pout.
Summer sighed with relief when she saw the girl disappear through the main exit. She was the most annoying person on earth. And the nerve of her to be badgering her with questions about Lance. There was no way she would ever betray him like that. She cared too much for him and he’d said he cared for her, too. She could never jeopardize that.
Three hours later, tired and sleepy, she was ready to go. She knew it was useless to go on when she’d read the same line four times and still couldn’t remember what it said. She stacked the books on the table, gathered up her papers and her purse, and headed for the exit.
When she got home a message from Lance made her immediately forget her tiredness. “I’m back.” His voice, even on a recording, could still make her shiver. “I have a surprise. Come on over to my apartment in the morning, around nine. I’ll make you breakfast. See you tomorrow.”
Next morning Summer arrived at Lance’s apartment ten minutes early. She was so anxious to see him that she couldn’t have stayed home a minute longer. He buzzed her up. When she got to his door she knocked and waited, a smile on her lips.
The door opened and Summer’s smile froze. She found herself staring down into the big brown eyes of a tiny girl.
20
Summer’s eyes widened in shock. The child standing in front of her wearing pink shorts and blouse said hello but she could do nothing except stare. The little girl could only be the one she’d heard of, the one from Jamaica.
Lance came up behind the child, smiling. “Summer, I’d like you to meet Michelle. I brought her in from Jamaica with me. Say hello, Michelle.”
“Hello,” the child said, then ducked her head shyly.
Still speechless, Summer could only nod. The nerve of him. What did he expect her to do? Welcome the little girl with open arms? And what about the child’s mother?
“Are you going to stand there all day? Come in.”
Lance walked away down the hallway, Michelle skipping along behind him. Summer entered hesitantly and closed the door behind her. She peered down the hallway, wondering if the child’s mother was at the end of it.
“I’m in the kitchen, Summer.” Lance called out to her. “Come on down here.”
The little girl ran off towards the living room and Summer followed slowly, feeling as if the life had gone out of her. She entered the kitchen and sat on the stool nearest to the door.
Lance had his back to her, his hands deep in a bowl of flour. He stopped kneading and turned to greet her. When he saw her face he said, “Honey, what’s wrong? Why the long face?”
Her lips trembled and she could not speak.
Lance washed his hands quickly and went over to sit on the stool beside hers. “Talk to me, Summer. What is it? Is it your Mom?”
“No.” Her voice was sharp with anger but she tried to keep it low so that the child could not hear her. “It’s you! How could you do this to me?”
“Do what to you?” He looked confused.
“You…you know how much I care for you but now you’ve made it clear that it’s hopeless.”
“What’s hopeless?”
“Us. There can never be an ‘us’.”
“But, why not?”
“Why not?” She was incredulous. “How can you even ask that question? You’re in a relationship. You have a child.”
“Summer, wait…”
“Don’t even try to explain. I was the stupid one. I heard you had a child in Jamaica. I knew you must have had ties with someone, but I was in denial. I wanted you so much that I hid my head in the sand and pretended none of that existed. You were in my life and that’s all that mattered.”
“Summer…”
“Why didn’t you just push me away when I told you how I felt?” She was sobbing freely now, not even caring if the child heard. “Why didn’t you put me out of my misery? Why this?”
“Summer, will you shut up?” Lance grabbed her upper arms and shook her. “You’re hysterical.”
He grabbed a paper napkin and handed it to her. She took it quickly and dabbed at her eyes then blew her nose. She sniffed and tried to regain her composure.
“Now that you’re calm,” he said, stroking her shoulder comfortingly, “we can talk. You have this all wrong.” He turned her around to face him. “Look at me, Summer.”
She raised her downcast eyes and felt her heart ache at the thought of losing this man.
“I don’t have a child, Summer. Nor do I have another woman. There is no other woman but you.”
Summer was confused. “How can you say that? Your daughter is sitting right there in the living room.”
“She’s not my daughter, Summer. Michelle is my godchild. Her dad and I grew up together in Port Maria and even when I migrated to the United States we were still best friends. He died two years ago in a car accident. I’ve been looking after Michelle ever since.”
Summer frowned, her mind still unable to wrap itself around this new revelation. “So…Michelle isn’t your daughter?”
“That’s what I said.”
“Are you telling me the truth?”
“Look into my eyes, Summer. Look at me and you’ll see I’m hiding nothing from you.”
“But there’s still something I don’t understand. You said you were going to Florida, not Jamaica.”
“I did go to Florida. I
was there until Thursday. I went down to Jamaica on an impulse and got Michelle. I’d called and she started crying for me. I just couldn’t stand it so I asked her mother if I could come get her for a few days,” he explained. “When she said yes I just flew down and got her, and here we are.”
Summer was awash with a mixture of emotions. Relief came first, then shame at her rush to judgment, then admiration for him, then love. “Oh, Lance, I’m so sorry.”
“Hush,” he whispered. “Don’t worry about it.”
Summer hugged him then went into the living room and sat on the floor where the little girl was playing with her doll.
“Hi, Michelle,” she said gently. “My name is Summer.”
Michelle turned her big brown eyes up at Summer and gave her a smile that melted her heart.
After a meal of fried dumplings and spinach Lance and Summer relaxed on the balcony while Michelle sat at their feet, playing with her doll. He had his arm around her shoulder and as they sat looking at the city below he toyed with a stray curl that had come loose from her scrunchie. She rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes, reveling in his warmth against her cheek.
“I was thinking,” his voice rumbled against her ear, “you’ve told me about your mother and what she’s been going through. From what you’ve said she seems like a brave lady.”
“She is.” Summer nodded. “No matter what she’s going through she never complains.”
“I’d like to meet her.”
Summer lifted her head and looked at him. “Really? You’re not just saying that to get on my good side, are you?”
He laughed. “Of course not. And anyway, I thought I was already on your good side.”
“You are.” She smiled back. “But seriously, how come you want to meet my mom? I wouldn’t have thought that was your cup of tea.”
“Why not? Because I’m a man? Or is it because you think I’m an arrogant brute who has no feelings?”
“Well, I must admit, I did feel that way about you once.”
“What?” Lance drew back in mock indignation. “That’s what you think of me?”
“Not anymore.” She squeezed his arm and gave him a peck on the cheek. “You’re my sweet, sweet man who’s loving and kind. You’re the best man a girl could ever want.”
“Wow, why such kind words?”
“Because I…just because.” Summer was glad she’d caught herself just in time. She had almost said ‘Because I love you’.”
“So what about today?”
“Today? For what?”
“To meet your mother.”
“Oh, I guess today would be good,” she said. “Maybe I could give her a buzz, let her know we’re coming.”
“Of course. You can go call her right now.”
“What time should I say we’re coming?”
“In another couple of hours. Let’s say noon.”
As Summer rose to go and make the call he added, “And ask her to dress to go out. I want us to take her to lunch.”
Summer raised her eyebrows in surprise then flashed him a bright smile of gratitude.
When they got to the nursing home Edna was dressed and waiting for them. She was wearing a bright blue summer dress and a wide-brimmed straw hat. Summer leaned over and kissed her mother’s cheek then said, “Mom, I’d like you to meet my special friend, Lance Munroe. Lance, this is my Mom, Edna Jones.”
“I’m very pleased to meet you, Mrs. Jones.” Lance extended a hand and greeted her with a smile. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“And I, about you.” Edna replied.
Lance raised his eyebrows, still smiling, and looked across at Summer.
“I’ve said nothing but good things about you. Promise.” Summer laughed at his comically concerned expression.
“And this,” she looked down at the little girl by her side and took her hand and pulled her forward, “is little Miss Michelle Davis. She’s Lance’s god-daughter, visiting from Jamaica.”
Edna leaned forward and took the little girl’s hands in hers. “Hello, Michelle. I’m very pleased to meet you.”
Michelle smiled shyly but said nothing. She looked up at Lance as if for reassurance.
He knelt down beside her and spoke softly. “Miss Edna is Summer’s mommy. Aren’t you going to say hello to her?”
Michelle turned her brown eyes back to Edna and, with a more confident smile, said, “Hello. My name is Michelle.”
“Hello again, Michelle. My name is Edna Jones and I’d like to be your friend. Do you think we can be friends?”
“Yes.” The child nodded gravely. “I have a friend and his name is Toby. He lives next door.”
“That’s nice, honey.”
“And I have a puppy. Her name is Shi-Shi.”
“Now that’s an unusual name.”
“That’s my dolly’s name, too.”
Lance laughed. “She named all her dolls Shi-Shi. I don’t know where she got that name but somehow she’s fallen in love with it.”
As he spoke he went behind Edna and rested his hands on the wheelchair. “Okay, guys, let’s get going. It’s a beautiful day and I want us to enjoy as much of it as we can.”
Summer took Michelle’s hand and Lance pushed Edna as they headed for the elevator. As it traveled slowly from the fifteenth floor Edna reached up to pat Lance’s hand which was resting on the bar of her wheelchair. “I want to thank you for this kind gesture, Lance. I really appreciate it.”
“No problem, Miss Edna. It’s my pleasure.”
“You can call me Edna.”
“I prefer Miss Edna, if you don’t mind,” Lance said. “Being from Jamaica, it’s sort of ingrained in me to address you like that. Plus, if my mother ever heard me call you just ‘Edna’ she’d really put me in my place.”
They all chuckled at that.
Summer was silent for a while, pondering yet another side of Lance that had been revealed to her. She peeked up at him as he stood beside her, strong and tall. He caught her glance and smiled down at her, making her heart jerk. Dear God, she prayed as she smiled back, please don’t make me love him so much.
For Summer the afternoon could not have been more perfect. Lance was the perfect gentleman to both Edna and her, and the most accommodating godfather that Michelle could have asked for. He entertained the women with stories of his experiences in the music industry and made them laugh at stories of the things he went through with erratic singers.
Edna was not to be outdone. She shared stories of her early life in Chicago and had them cracking up when she related some of her experiences as a young teacher.
After lunch they went for a drive along Lake Michigan then, just for Michelle’s benefit, they stopped at the Children’s Museum at Navy Pier. She enjoyed herself so much that Lance had to pull her away and, to stop her from crying, he let her ride on his shoulder all the way back to the parking lot.
It was after six o’clock when they returned a tired but happy Edna Jones to her room at the nursing home. There were tears in her eyes as she bid them good evening.
“My dears, you’ve done my spirit a world of good. I haven’t had so much fun in a very long time.”
“I had fun too, Miss Edna. You’re a great storyteller.” Lance took her hand as if to shake it but she pulled him down and gave him a quick hug.
“I’m glad you had a great time, Mom.” Summer was a little teary-eyed herself at seeing her mother so happy. “I’ll give you a call tonight, okay.”
“Okay, dear. Tell the little angel ‘bye for me.”
“I’ll tell her,” Lance whispered, as he took the sleeping child from Summer. He positioned Michelle on his shoulder and waved farewell to Edna as Summer kissed her goodbye.
******
Summer looked out the tiny window at the heavy cumulus clouds below. It was only six in the morning and the rising sun had turned them into pink, peach and gold cotton candy. She smiled at the thought then turned to look at Lance. He had reclined his seat
and lay back, eyes closed. Poor guy, she thought, he looks so tired.
Michelle, who sat between them, was also fast asleep. Of that, she was not surprised. They had been up since three that morning and by three forty-five they were on their way to the Chicago O’Hare Airport.
She was glad Lance had convinced her to join him on this trip. He was taking Michelle back home and was planning to take an extra day off to recuperate from his hectic schedule of the past few weeks. She could do with the rest, too. She hadn’t realized how much the college tours would demand of her and this trip, short as it would be, was a welcome break.
She leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes. It would be another three and a half hours before the plane landed so she might as well catch up on her sleep, too.
Summer awoke to a gentle shaking and opened her eyes to see Lance smiling at her. Michelle was up, too, although still sleepy-eyed and yawning.
“We’re here,” he said softly, and smiled wider as she rubbed her eyes. “You look like a kid when you do that. Now I’m stuck with two little ones – Michelle and Summer.”
She rolled her eyes at his corny comment but then she gave him a sweet, contented smile.
Lance rented a minivan at the airport and drove the forty-six miles of winding road to the small town of Highgate and pulled into the driveway of a sprawling bungalow. As they drove up a tall, dark-skinned woman with a short afro came out of the front door and waved.
“Mummy!” Michelle yelled and bounced up and down in the seat.
“Whoa, hold on little pony,” Lance said, “we’re almost there.”
He pulled up under a big shady mango tree and jumped out to open the back door for Michelle. He lifted her from the seat and as her feet hit the ground she dashed away and into the arms of the smiling woman.
He went around to Summer’s side, opened the door and gave her his arm so she could jump down to the ground. She landed slightly off balance and he threw an arm around her waist and steadied her against his body.
The tall woman had risen from hugging the child and stood waiting for them, her hand on Michelle’s head.