“How did you come to Cedar Springs?” she asked him as they headed to his car.
On the drive back to her house, Cameron told her about his career moves, working in small towns and then larger ones until he’d done a military stint; then, after his service, getting into fire administration.
Summer told him about how she chose her house, the help she’d gotten from her sisters and her mother, and what she hoped to eventually do with the rest of her yard.
Before either of them noticed, it was well after nine. They’d been sitting at the curb in front of her house talking for more than an hour.
“I should have invited you in,” Summer said.
“This was more fun,” Cameron answered before coming around the side to open her door for her.
Hand-in-hand they walked to her front door.
Summer pulled out her keys, unlocked and pushed open the front door, but she didn’t move to go inside.
“Thank you, Cameron,” she said. “It’s been a lovely evening.”
He took her hands in his and pressed a kiss to the top of hers.
“Good night, sweet Summer.”
She watched him walk back to the Lexus before finally going inside and closing the portal.
Long after she’d heard his car start and pull away, Summer still leaned against her front door.
She was smiling.
* * *
After their ice cream date, they ended up talking several times over the course of the week, twice on the phone, and once after going to the new exhibition opening at the Object d’Art gallery downtown.
They carefully avoided the topics that seemed to spark debate between them.
Tonight they’d actually had a full meal together— dinner—and neither seemed willing to head to the movie they’d planned to see.
Summer picked at a thread on the edge of her white linen napkin. “So what about the Jackson family? You haven’t told me anything about your family. Do you have siblings?”
He nodded. “Two. A sister and a brother. My sister...”
Cameron was interrupted by their waiter. “Would either of you care for dessert? We have a luscious deep chocolate Bavarian cream pie tonight. It comes with fresh strawberries.”
Cameron lifted a brow in question at Summer who was unfolding her napkin and placing it back in her lap.
“I think that that’s a yes,” he said, grinning at her.
“But we’ll split it,” Summer said. “And can we have extra strawberries?”
Their waiter smiled. “Coming right up.”
“Something tells me I won’t be getting many strawberries,” Cameron said.
“I’ll admit, they’re my favorite,” she said. “Strawberries are a summer fruit—I think that’s why I love them so much. It’s like they grow just to celebrate my name.” She took a sip of water from her goblet, then placed it back on the table. “You were saying you have a sister and a brother.”
He nodded. “Both younger.”
“I figured that,” Summer said, almost to herself.
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“You said you’d guessed I was the eldest child,” Cameron clarified.
“Oh,” she said. “That’s because you’re a protector. Protectors are generally first-born.”
He considered her for a moment. Then just said, “Hmm,” before reaching for his own water goblet. “My sister is still in Tennessee. My brother is in Alaska now. I think.”
“Alaska. Wow, that’s a long way from Tennessee. What does he do there?”
Cameron frowned. “Supposedly he works for the forestry service. Mandy—that’s Amanda, my sister—has long harbored the conviction that Randy is a CIA agent. He’s constantly on the move and always very vague about just what it is he’s doing.”
“Randy and Mandy. Twins?” she asked.
Cameron shook his head. “Nope. Amanda is named for our grandmother.”
She smiled. “Finish telling me about your brother and sister.”
Instead, he put his chin in his hand and smiled back.
“What?” Summer asked.
“You.”
“What about me?”
“You are absolutely enchanting, Summer Spencer. I don’t think I’ve ever met a woman quite like you.”
“I’m sure you have,” she said. “Starting with your ex. You’ve never told me about her.”
Cameron winced and sat back. “Can we talk...”
“No,” Summer said. “We can’t talk about something else. We’ve been skipping the hard parts, the Cedar Springs development project, Ilsa at Manna and your ex-wife.”
“I’ll make a deal with you.”
Her mouth twitched up. “Of course you will, Chief Cam.”
“I’ll tell you about Melanie if you’ll hear me out on why a mixed-use development would be good for Cedar Springs.”
She made a face, but her curiosity about his ex-wife compelled her to accept the deal.
“All right,” she said. But before he could begin, their waiter appeared with a large slice of chocolate Bavarian cream pie surrounded by what looked like a full pint of sliced strawberries.
Cameron and Summer each chuckled.
“Well, I might get a strawberry or two, after all,” he said.
The waiter placed a fork before each of them, then slipped away.
Cameron picked up his fork, slid it into the creamy dessert and offered the bite to her.
She accepted it, smiling.
“Mmm,” she said. “This is good.”
He handed her the fork and picked up his own for a taste, spearing a slice of strawberry along with it.
They enjoyed the dessert in silence for a few moments, their eyes frequently connecting.
“Your ex?” she prompted.
He sighed. “Melanie’s parents were—are—quite prominent. They own and operate a company that owns malls and theater complexes all up and down the East Coast.
“She never wanted for anything,” he said, “until she married a firefighter who couldn’t keep her in the style to which she felt an entitled right. What I made in a month, she spent on a single handbag or pair of shoes. We were young, and we thought that love was all we needed.” Cameron snorted. “As long as love comes with a Black Card from American Express.”
“How long were you together?”
“On paper, two years. In truth, eighteen months. She moved out of our apartment and back to her parents’ house while I was on a twenty-four-hour shift. The divorce petition came from one of her father’s lawyers not long afterward. We both walked away, hopefully wiser for the experience.”
“Cameron, I’m not Melanie.”
“I know.”
“What you said about my mother’s house makes sense now.”
His brow furrowed. “What did I say?”
“You asked if it was as big as the Kennedy Compound.”
“Oh. Yeah. I forgot about that.”
“I didn’t.” She couldn’t keep the hurt out of her voice.
“I’m beyond that now,” Cameron said.
“Hmm,” she said.
“Hey, that’s my line.”
She grinned. “Now you see how it feels.”
Cameron speared a strawberry, held it tantalizingly toward Summer and just as she reached for it, he popped it into his own mouth.
She laughed at his antics.
“Gotta make sure I get a few,” he said around chews.
“When I asked for extra strawberries, I didn’t mean for them to give us a whole bushel of them.”
They exchanged small talk as they made inroads into the dessert, comparing books read and favorite musical artists. They discovered
they had much in common, and Summer said she was looking forward to finding a book discussion group to join.
“I miss the one in Macon already. It was from the women’s Bible study group at church. We read a variety of books.”
“I have to admit, I’ve never been to a book discussion group,” he said, “but I know there’s at least one at The Fellowship.”
“I think I’d like to check it out,” she said.
Cameron then invited her to Sunday service with him.
Summer gave him a smile as bright as that afternoon’s summer sun. “I thought you’d never ask.”
“I’m glad you changed your mind about going out with me,” Cameron said, turning the moment serious again. “I’ve enjoyed our time together.”
“Me, too,” she said. “Although, I have to confess, in the beginning, I was a total nervous wreck.”
“Really? I couldn’t tell,” he said. “You are the epitome of cool, calm and grace.”
She smiled. “I like that image, even if it’s a façade.”
“Ready to go?” Cameron asked.
She nodded. He settled their bill and they left the restaurant.
The warm North Carolina evening smelled of summer and the air moved in languid swirls. The humidity had not yet morphed into the unbearable molasses it would be in a month or so.
“It’s a nice evening for a walk,” Cameron observed.
“It is,” she said. “And we can work off some of that rich pie.”
In a smooth move, Cameron shifted to the outside of the sidewalk as they began to stroll. Summer smiled.
“My chivalrous knight.”
“I grew up old school,” he said. “Some habits are hard to break.”
“I did, too,” she said as she tucked her arm into his. “I fear I am more of a throwback to a bygone era. Our choices of college majors even said a lot about that. My sisters and I, I mean.”
Cameron smiled. “What did you major in? No, wait, let me guess. Home economics?”
She batted his arm. “Not that much of a throwback, silly.”
“That wasn’t a silly guess,” he mock complained. “Don’t forget, I’ve had your cookies and your cheesecake. Not to mention some awesome cornbread and chili. So if not Home Ec, maybe culinary arts or maybe you were a liberal arts major.”
“You get points for deductive reasoning,” she conceded. “Spring majored in biology, with a pre-med emphasis, of course. Winter has an economics degree and a master’s degree in business administration. Overachievers those two,” she said with a smile in her voice. “Autumn, who has always been the tomboy of the family, got a degree in fitness and nutrition. Three sisters, three practical college careers. And then there was me.”
“Who majored in something that made her happy.”
Surprised, she turned toward him. “Yes. I was an art history major. Which qualified me to do absolutely nothing.”
“That is not true,” Cameron said. “It taught you to appreciate art and creativity, even if it comes in the form of paperclips and bolts.”
Summer grinned.
“You’ve taken me out to dinner,” she said. “It’s my turn to return the favor. I make a mean pot roast. Will you come tomorrow night?”
Before he could answer, his cell phone rang. “Excuse me,” he said reaching for it. “That ring tone is the hospital.”
Summer studied him while he took the call.
They’d gotten to know each other tonight. And one of the things she’d learned about him made her wary. Her family was well-to-do, and had been for several generations. Based on his description of his ex-wife and her family, their wealth was in another league altogether. But because there were platinum credit cards in all of the Darling wallets, she feared Cameron lumped them all in together.
She saw him end the call and pocket the phone. “How is Mickey?”
“I need to go up to Durham,” he said in answer, his voice flat.
“Would you like some company for the drive?”
Chapter Twelve
With Summer beside him, the forty-minute drive to Durham seemed to fly by. He thought it might be the conversation, but knew it was the woman who filled the car and his senses with the fragrance of peaches and sunshine.
“You told me about Melanie,” Summer said, “so I guess I have to keep my side of the bargain and listen to your arguments for a land grab.”
“We’re talking opposition to a project that hasn’t even been voted on, and even if it were, it would still be years in the making.”
“It sounds like there’s a lot to consider.”
“There is,” he said. “And nothing, pro, con or otherwise, is happening overnight.”
They rode in companionable silence for a few miles. Finally, Summer said, “Tell me about Mickey. How and when did you meet him?”
“I first met Chief Mickey Flynn—Michael is his given name, but he goes by Mickey—while I was in the fire academy. He was already legendary in the fire service. And he was the graduation speaker for my class.
“What struck me the most about him was his absolute conviction and dedication to the job. For Mickey, working in fire departments was more than a job. It was both a calling and a way of life for him. I connected with that, with him,” Cameron said. “Probably because he was the first person who understood when I tried to articulate why I wanted to be a firefighter.”
“Michael Flynn,” Summer said.
Cameron smiled. “That’s right. Michael Sean Flynn. Irish to the core.”
“That name sounds familiar,” she said. “I just can’t place it.”
“That’s because if you throw a rock in communities with large Irish populations you’ll hit a Michael Sean. And Flynn is a pretty common last name.”
“What was the call about tonight? If you don’t mind me asking,” Summer asked.
“I wouldn’t have agreed to let you join me if I minded,” he said. “He was asking for me. That in itself is unusual. Mickey has been in and out of the hospital for the last year. This time around his condition is guarded. He has good days and bad ones.”
Cameron clenched his fist on the steering wheel. “I leave depressed, angry and mad at God every time I come up here.”
She reached for his hand and closed hers over it.
Cameron took a deep breath and unclenched the fist. He then threaded his fingers with hers.
“I’m glad you’re with me,” he said.
She squeezed his hand in response.
“Despite the cheerfulness of the nurses and doctors on the ward, all they can do is keep him comfortable. I’m listed as his next of kin.”
“He doesn’t have a wife or children?”
Cameron shook his head. “Lifelong bachelor. But to hear him tell it, he was quite the ladies’ man in his day.”
Summer smiled. “He sounds like a character.”
“He is. You’ll see,” Cameron said as he navigated the patient visitor parking lot of the huge medical facility.
* * *
“Tell me about her,” Mickey rasped from his bed not long after giving Cam a key and making him promise to access the safe deposit box when the time came.
Cameron stood at the window gazing out at nothing, wondering if he would or could face the end of life with the dignity and good humor that Mickey seemed to embrace it with.
He turned at his friend’s odd request.
“Her?”
Mickey tried to raise a hand to wave away the comment, couldn’t manage it and settled for a scowl. “I’m dying, Cam. Not dumb.”
Cameron smiled. “Far be it from me to ever suggest such a thing.”
“You’re stalling.”
“Her name is Summer Spencer. But she’s just a friend, Mick. I...
Well, she’s not the type I go for these days.”
“What? Not breathing?”
“Funny,” Cam said.
“Doesn’t exactly rate on the beauty meter, huh? That’s okay, Cam. Beauty’s on the inside.”
Cameron grunted. “She’s beautiful on the outside, but...”
“But?”
Cameron faced his friend, who was fighting a valiant but losing battle with the cancer. Mickey wanted to see him settled down, but Cam knew giving his friend false hope wasn’t going to do either of them any good.
“But she’s wealthy, Mick. Very wealthy. She came from money and married money. I’ve been down that road with Melanie. And I have the scars to prove that the potholes and sinkholes on that particular stretch of road don’t warrant a second trip. So don’t go getting any ideas. She’s just a friend who came up with me, and she’s in the waiting room.”
“Cam.”
Cameron rubbed his eyes.
His heart ached. Witnessing his friend’s last days hurt more than he could have imagined. But Mickey faced the end the way he’d lived each and every day of his life: with a gusto that belied whatever ailed him.
Life hadn’t always been fair to Mickey Flynn.
The love of his life had married another man. And like he’d told Summer, on all of Mickey’s official paperwork, his next of kin was listed as Cameron Jackson.
Through the years, first starting at the academy when he recognized in Cameron a man who would go far up the ranks, and later as they got to know each other outside of work, the friendship had developed. In Cameron, Mickey found the son he never had. They were brothers in the Lord and brothers in firefighting, and Cameron was left wondering if he’d feel as despondent if it were Randy, his own blood brother, slowly dying.
“Get her,” came the command from the bed in a voice that almost sounded like the Mickey of old.
* * *
Insisting that she didn’t want to intrude on their time together, Summer had settled in the waiting room while Cameron went to visit with his friend.
The magazines didn’t interest her, and neither did the offerings on the TV. Her thoughts were on what Cameron had said—and not said—about his friend and mentor. Mickey was dying and Cameron was hurting.
Summer understood that. She was glad she’d come with him. She knew firsthand about grief, and sometimes you just needed another person there to help absorb some of the pain.
The Fireman Finds a Wife Page 10