Summer Girl

by Boeshaar, Andrea

  “Travis, what are you doing here?”

  He blinked to see Jena’s blue eyes regarding him in what could only be curiosity.

  “I thought you would have gone back home by now.” Her lids fluttered closed as though the medication wouldn’t allow them to do otherwise.

  “I’m waiting for you to hurry up and feel better so that we can ditch this place.”

  A tiny giggle escaped Jena’s lips as she floated off to sleep again.

  Grinning, Travis checked the score of the baseball game, then returned his attention to the magazine. He’d read two paragraphs into an article when the glass exam room door slid open, and Star entered, followed by a very tall young man with auburn hair.

  “I got here as fast as I could,” Star said. “Mrs. Barlow told me what happened. Is Jena going to be okay?”

  Travis stood and put his forefinger to his lips. “She’s sleeping,” he whispered, “but, yes, she’s going to be fine.”

  Star moved to Jena’s bedside and stroked her hair. Seeing as he wouldn’t get a formal introduction, Travis turned to the young man and stuck out his right hand. “Travis Larson.”

  “Oh, hi. . .Rusty McKenna.”

  They clasped hands, and Travis hoped his surprise didn’t show on his face. So this is Rusty. Could Jena really be interested in this guy? In two sweeping glances, Travis decided Rusty stood about six-feet-five and had a mug that only a mother could love.

  He cleared his throat. “I’ve, um, met your parents but haven’t ever seen you around.”

  A goofy smile curved his lips. “That’s probably ’cause I stayed in the dorms at school, even though the college is only about an hour’s drive from here. Plus, during the past few summers I’ve been away on missions trips.”

  “Guess that explains it.” Travis forced a polite smile, digesting the information. He told himself he shouldn’t be shocked that Jena was interested in a man who shared her religious beliefs. But at the same time, it irked him. Then, it bothered him that he felt irked.

  He glanced at Jena only to see her sitting up in bed.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” he asked, walking to the side of the hospital bed. Placing his hand on her shoulder, he gently pushed her back against the pillow. Her curly strawberry-blond hair splayed against the puffy white surface, and in that moment, Jena reminded him of Sleeping Beauty in one of his daughters’ fairy-tale books.

  “Travis, I feel better. I want to go home.”

  Leaning against the guardrails, he gazed down at her, feeling oddly mesmerized.

  “Travis. . .did you hear me?”

  “What? Oh, yeah. . .I heard you.” He forced himself to focus on the situation at hand “Listen, you’ll go home when the doctors say you can go home. Which reminds me. . .” He looked over at Star. “Can you spend the night with her? I don’t think Jena should be alone up in her apartment tonight.”

  “Sure. I’ll call my parents and let them know.” Star glanced down at Jena. “We’ll take care of you, Honey. You just peep, and we’ll be there for you.”

  “Oh, good grief.”

  Travis smirked. “Too bad you’re so sunburned, Jena. Now we can’t see you blush.”

  With an exasperated moan, she pulled the sheet up over her face, and Travis laughed.

  ❧

  “Are you sure you’re okay, Jena? I mean, maybe I should have Travis come up here and take your temperature or something.”

  “Shut up!” Jena laughed and threw a pillow at Star.

  It smacked her shoulder, and Star chuckled. “Well, he’s only phoned twice in the past hour-and-a-half to make sure you’re all right.”

  Jena sighed. “Yeah, but that’s because Bella Minniati can’t take ‘no’ for an answer. Travis tried to get out of going to church tomorrow morning and lunch afterwards, but Bella won’t hear of it. She told him that if I’m too sick, he has to come and bring the girls. Of course, Travis won’t argue because he still hopes Bella will sign on with his law firm.”

  “Oh what a tangled web we weave. . .”

  “Amen!”

  Sitting on the opposite end of the couch, Star whipped the pillow back at her, but Jena caught it easily. “So what do you think of Rusty?”

  The smile slipped from Star’s heart-shaped face. “Do you like him, Jena? I mean. . .romantically speaking?”

  At Star’s tone, Jena’s guard went up. “Why do you ask?”

  “Well, because. . .I’m rather attracted to him for some odd reason. He’s really not my type at all. I always imagined myself marrying a guy like Travis Larson.”

  Disappointment swelled in Jena’s chest. “What about Tom? You’ve been dating him on and off for some time now.”

  “Yeah, well, we’re off again. He’s got some weird phobia about commitments. But then along comes Rusty. . .and this afternoon he said he’d been asking God if he could meet me, so when he ran into you last night, it was like the Lord answered his prayer.” Star shrugged and two rosy spots suddenly appeared on her cheeks. “I guess I thought that was really romantic. Rusty obviously doesn’t have a problem with the idea of lasting relationships.”

  “That’s awesome,” Jena replied, even though she felt like sobbing. Rusty had been drawn to Star the entire time, and now Jena felt stupid for thinking it was she who’d sparked his interest. “Well, listen, I’m going to bed. Are you sure you’ll be okay here on the sofa?”

  “I’m totally fine. I’m just going to read a chapter in my Bible and go to sleep.”

  “Okay. G’night.” Jena walked to her bedroom. Inside, she closed the door and leaned against it as the first of many tears trickled from her eyes.

  ❧

  The next morning, the sunshine streamed in through her bedroom window and woke Jena. It was like a hug and smile from her Heavenly Father. Her disappointment had ebbed, and Jena felt more determined than ever to trust God with her future. So what if she ended up husbandless? There were worse fates in life. Jena decided that if she never married, she would simply be a blessing to another family.

  After showering, she donned the best outfit she owned, a navy blue coatdress that had white buttons down the front and bold white trim along its V-neck. Her tight, sunburned skin protested her every move, but Jena ignored it. If she ended up a missionary in a third-world country, there would be no concessions for a pampered little rose. She’d have to be as strong as a willow in order to weather the climate and rough conditions. She might as well start now.

  Feeling determined, Jena headed over to Travis’s where she prepared a light breakfast. After Mandi and Carly woke up, she gathered their clothes and led them downstairs into the sunny den where she helped the two little ones into frilly summertime dresses that looked as though they’d never been worn. By the time Travis entered the kitchen, Jena had finished arranging both girls’ hair and now encouraged them to eat their cereal and toast.

  “Daddy, don’t we look pretty!” Mandi exclaimed. She jumped off her chair and twirled around on one heel of her shiny black Mary Jane’s.

  He nodded distractedly and looked at Jena. “You’re supposed to be in bed recuperating.”

  “I’m recuperated.”

  “No.” Travis shook his head. “The doctor made it clear you’re to rest for at least forty-eight hours. Now scoot.”

  Jena knew he was right, but she didn’t think going to church would put that much of a strain on her body. “I can rest this afternoon. I’m not a docile little thing. I’m an able-bodied woman.”

  “Yeah, and I aim to keep you that way so I won’t have to miss work tomorrow.” He inclined his head toward the back door.

  “Travis, I—”

  “Don’t argue with me, Jena.”

  His tone and stern expression left no room for debate, although she glimpsed a compassionate light in his cocoa brown eyes as he finished knotting his tie.

  Returning a small smile, she stood and pushed in the kitchen chair under the table. “All right, you win,” she said, making her way t
o the back door.

  “Thanks for dressing the girls and fixing their hair,” he called after her. “I appreciate it.”

  She glanced at him from over her shoulder. “You’re welcome.”

  “And get some rest, you hear?”

  Unable to help herself, Jena saluted.

  He narrowed his gaze at her as if warning her not to be so sassy, and she chuckled all the way back to her apartment. Entering the living room, she heard Star singing in the shower. She, too, would be leaving for church soon. Jena glanced around her apartment and wondered what she’d do with her time. She was accustomed to staying busy, barely having a moment to think, let alone hours of idleness.

  She walked into her bedroom where she undressed and hung up her good clothes. She slipped off her stockings, stuffing them in her top dresser drawer. Next, she pulled on a yellow printed cotton skirt with a loose elastic waistline and a matching yellow t-shirt. The material felt so soft against her damaged skin that a small sigh of relief escaped Jena’s lips. Perhaps Travis had been right in ordering her to rest. She wasn’t quite up to par yet.

  An hour later, after Star left, Jena pulled out her Bible and proceeded to have some personal devotion time. She praised God for all her blessings, including her summer job. Sunburn aside, the first week had gone extremely well, and at the hospital, the admitting registrar had taken a charity application designed for those, like Jena, who didn’t have quality health insurance. Jena asked forgiveness for envying Star and Rusty and prayed the Lord to lead in that relationship. She continued to pray, pleading with God to help her feel complacent as a single woman and to use her to further His heavenly kingdom.

  It was then that Jena felt a special burden for Travis’s soul. Oh, please, dear Lord Jesus, let him hear the Good News loud and clear this morning. Open his heart so he understands why You left Your Ivory Palace to live as a Man of little means and die a cruel death for our sins. I also pray for Mandi and Carly. Whet their appetite for Your word and. . .help them behave. . .

  After finishing her petition, the heaviness in her spirit for Travis didn’t abate. She prayed again. Then once more. At long last, she gave the matter over to God, trusting that the outcome would be to His glory.

  Fifteen

  Travis tried to stifle another yawn as he sat to Joe Minniati’s left. He forced a complacent expression while he listened to the pastor drone on about some such thing. Glancing at Joe who appeared attentive, occasionally scribbling down a few notes, Travis decided he’d best pay attention in case the Minnatis wanted to discuss the message over lunch.

  “The Bible was written as proof and testimony of the deity of Jesus Christ,” said the bald-headed, African-American man at the pulpit. He had a kind-sounding voice despite the austere look on his face. “There is no way anyone can dispute the fact that Jesus Christ is God, sent from God, and is the second Person of the Trinity after reading this Book.”

  Travis glanced at the Bible in his lap. It had belonged to Meg, and the passage in Colossians from which the pastor’s message had been derived was underlined with a purple fine-point pen. Meg had believed this book. She’d been a devoted Christian.

  “And why anyone wouldn’t come to Christ after reading John chapter three and ‘You must be born again’ is a mystery to me,” the pastor continued. “If Jesus said it, we’d better do it.”

  That phrase—“come to Christ”—triggered the memory of a promise Travis had made to Meg on her deathbed. Her last wish was that he would “come to Christ” so she would see him in Heaven, and Travis vowed he would. Then, again, he would have lassoed the moon for Meg at that point just to ease her burden. He’d felt so helpless, watching her die.

  “Come to Christ”—what did that mean? How did a person go about “coming to Christ”? Was there a ritual involved? Did he have to join a church? Travis tried to remember how Meg “came to Christ,” but he couldn’t recall. He thought she might have had some sort of religious experience shortly after Mandi was born, but he didn’t know what brought it about.

  Sorry, Meg, I just don’t understand.

  The congregation suddenly stood to its feet, and Travis realized the sermon had ended. After a short prayer, the pianist began to plunk out a lively melody, and church members vacated their pews and filled the aisles, laughing, talking, and greeting each other.

  “What did you think, Travis?” Bella asked. She’d been sitting on the other side of her husband.

  “Your pastor is very articulate,” he replied lamely.

  “He’s an educated man,” Joe said. “He’s got an earned doctorate. He served in the Air Force and has his pilot’s license, so he’s big on mission aviation.”

  “What’s ‘mission aviation?’ ” Travis couldn’t help asking as they left the sanctuary.

  “Pastor Richards has flown to third-world countries,” Bella answered, “to feed starving people who need the Bread of Life.”

  “Hmm, I see.” Standing in the foyer, he glanced to his left. “This way to pick up my girls?”

  Bella shook her head. “No, this way.” She motioned to the right. “I hope they had a good time. They’re adorable, Travis. I’m just sorry Jena couldn’t come today. She’s an absolute doll. . . and she fixed the girls’ hair so cute.”

  Travis expelled a long breath and followed a babbling Bella down a crowded corridor and into a large room where the pastor’s wife held what the Minniatis called “Children’s Church.” Inside, Mandi and Carly were having so much fun playing with the toys and the other children that it took Travis a few minutes to get their attention. Once they spotted him, however, they dropped what they were doing and came running, their arms outstretched. The sight warmed Travis’s heart.

  ❧

  Jena sat in the shady courtyard, relaxing on the chaise lounge and reading a collection of stories about women who became brides on the Oregon Trail. She enjoyed adventurous wholesome romances, particularly about brides-to-be. Jena prayed she would get married someday, but she figured it didn’t hurt to read about the thrills and frills surrounding weddings, and she couldn’t recall when she’d last been able to enjoy some good fiction. Attending college and working several odd jobs that accommodated her schedule didn’t leave much room for relaxation. But her minor debilitation proved to be something of a blessing. Jena had even found time to phone her parents this morning. Of course, the conversations with her mother, father, and brother never got past superficial topics as they each told her about their busy lives. No one asked about Jena and that hurt. It seemed as if her family couldn’t see beyond themselves—but that wasn’t new, and she told herself she shouldn’t feel surprised. She’d just have to pray harder.

  “Hello, Dearie. . .”

  Glancing up, Jena watched Mrs. Barlow enter the small yard. Dressed in a blue and white dress, it appeared the older woman had just come back from church. “What are you doing home? I thought your Sunday afternoons were reserved for your grandchildren.”

  Smiling, Mrs. Barlow took a seat in a nearby lawn chair. “I was worried about you, so after having lunch with my son and his family, I thought I’d drive back and make sure you’re all right.”

  “I’m fine.” Jena felt a tad guilty for worrying her sweet friend.

  “Is Travis home? Things sound too quiet around here. Are Mandi and Carly gone?”

  “No. . .and yes,” Jena replied with a little laugh at the “too quiet” remark. “Nobody’s home. Travis took the girls to church with him. He was invited by the Minniatis.”

  “You don’t say? Why, Meg would be ecstatic to hear he took his daughters to hear the preaching of The Word. She tried and tried to get Travis to attend with her. He always said he was too busy.”

  Jena’s heart constricted. “What a shame.” She wondered if he regretted those “I’m too busy” decisions now.

  The sound of a car pulling into the driveway drew Jena’s attention, and she looked up in time to see the front quarter panel of Travis’s shining black Lexus. Within no time at
all, Mandi skipped into the courtyard.

  “Well, hello, Darling!” Mrs. Barlow said with a broad grin.

  “Hi!” Mandi sat down on the edge of Jena’s chair.

  Jena smiled. “Did you have fun at church today?”

  “Uh-huh. We sang and drew pictures, then Mrs. Smith told us a story about a boy named David who killed a mean giant.”

  Jena’s smile grew just as Travis entered the yard, carrying a sleeping Carly over his shoulder.

  “I hope you’ve been resting,” he told Jena before greeting Mrs. Barlow.

  “I have, so don’t worry. How’d it go this morning?”

  “Fine.” Travis grinned. “I think Bella’s going to sign.”

  “That’s great news!”

  “Sure is.” Reaching the back door, Travis pulled the keys from his pocket. “Come on, Mandi. Nap time.”

  “But I’m not tired,” she whined.

  Travis narrowed his gaze, giving his daughter that sardonic lawyer look for which Jena found him so famous. She bit back a laugh, thinking he might be able to intimidate jurors, but poor Travis had little influence on Mandi.

  “I’m too big for a nap, Daddy.” The girl turned to Jena, her childish brown eyes pleading for an ally. “Right?”

  “Obey your father,” Jena prompted on an encouraging note.

  Pouting, Mandi rose from the lawn chair and stomped to the backdoor. Mrs. Barlow put her fingers over her lips in an effort to hide her amusement.

  “If I’m not too old for a nap, neither are you,” Travis said, following his oldest daughter into the house.

  The screen door squeaked on its hinges, closing behind the Larson family.

  Jena chuckled at Travis’ parting remark and glanced at Mrs. Barlow.

  “Travis is such a good father, isn’t he?”

  “Yes, he is.” Jena didn’t have to think twice before answering. “Now, tell me what I missed at church this morning. Did Star have a guest?”