Perfect Summer (32 page)

“Not really. My class doesn’t follow the regular school schedule. I teach half-day block classes. One in the morning and one in the afternoon.” In seven years of teaching, Summer had never talked to her mother about her job.

“I like these kids. They’re sharp and don’t take crap. All good qualities.” Lillian smiled, but Summer only saw Lilly behind those warm blue eyes. “What now?”

The fact that her mother had used the word “crap” didn’t escape her notice. Her mother considered anything close to a cuss word as vulgar and unladylike. This little slip made her more human.

“We make lunch.” Summer glanced at Clint, who was talking to Mario.

Mario moved one foot back and propelled his right arm forward like he’d just thrown an imaginary football. Clint squatted down, corrected Mario’s footing, stood, and changed the angle of Mario’s throwing arm. All trepidation was gone from Clint as he helped a student.

Clint looked at Summer. She winked. He smiled brightly and ducked his head like she’d just patted him on it and told him he’d done a good job. He was finding his way, and he was helping her students in the process. It dawned on her that he would be an excellent coach, not because he was driven to win but because he saw potential and wanted to draw it out so the athlete would see it too. Whatever his reasons for becoming her mentor, he cared about her students.

“You’d make a terrific coach.” She winked again.

Now, her kids had two people who believed in them. Tears gathered in her eyes, and she turned her back on Clint. She’d cried in front of him, but she wouldn’t let her students see her be a crybaby. Summer, head down, opened the door to her office as she batted away her tokens of weakness. She stepped inside and leaned against her desk. Clint cared about her students. Behind her, the door clicked shut, and then her mother’s arms went around her and pulled her close.

She smelled like Chanel No. 5 and Tide laundry detergent, and her shirt was soft from years of wear. It was funny. Soft wasn’t a word she’d ever associated with her mother.

“Shhh.” Lilly patted her arm. “It will be okay.”

There was nothing wrong, but she’d always dreamed of being comforted by her mother, so she didn’t pull away. The hug was awkward and clunky, as if her mother wasn’t quite sure where her arms went.

“Sometimes life jumps up and gets you right in the heart,” her mother tried to soothe. It sounded pretty real. “It’s good to cry.”

“You don’t cry.” Summer grabbed a handful of her mother’s tee shirt and used it to wipe her nose. Not that she wanted to see how far her mother was prepared to take the mothering, but, well…yeah, she kind of wanted to know if her mother’s new boundaries included gross things like snot.

Lilly didn’t seem to notice. “I cry. I just don’t let anyone see me.” Her shoulders slumped. “I’m beginning to see that wasn’t the best choice. Showing emotion isn’t a bad thing, but I’d gotten so used to covering it up that it’s become second nature. Inez thinks I’m a robot.”

Summer laughed. She’d thought that on occasion too. She dried her eyes. “You really have changed.”

Summer straightened so she could look her mother in the eye.

“I don’t want to make the same mistakes I did with you.” Her hands went to the bump of her belly. “This baby will know he’s loved.”

She took a deep breath.

“I need to say this, and you need to hear it.” She touched Summer’s cheek and tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. “I love you. I always have, and I always will. You are the most important person in my life. You are perfect just the way you are.”

Her mother wiped her own tears. “I’m sorry. I never meant any of the things that I said. I’ve hated myself for saying them. You’re a wonderful daughter, a lovely person, and beautiful to look at. Always.”

Summer felt her arms move around her mother and found herself hugging the only person in the world she’d never thought she would ever love. Lilly returned the embrace, and they held each other and rocked as years of misgivings, malcontent, and missed opportunities melted away. Love between a mother and a daughter might be precarious but it was strong and unconditional—Summer finally felt it.

On Saturday, Clint pulled up at the school. While the plans he had involved students, they didn’t involve schoolwork or books. It was a bright March morning, sixty-two cloudless degrees of pure heaven. He parked near the football practice field, turned off the engine, and stepped out onto the asphalt. Summer was still asleep in her bed. He smiled. This morning’s workout had started with her flat on her back, then riding him, and then some complicated maneuver she’d seen in the Kama Sutra. Exercise had never been so much work or so much fun. And now, here he was facing his worst nightmare, armed only with a playbook and the lingering memory of her warm body next to his. She had become his crutch, but he was ready to take on life on his own two feet.

The spikes of his cleats sank into the thick grass, and the anxiety that he normally felt was barely even a pinprick of mild trepidation. Closer and closer, he walked to the crowd of boys assembled across the field. Summer would be so proud, but he didn’t have anything to prove to her, only himself.

His phone buzzed, and more out of habit than need for distraction, he pulled it out of his right back pocket and ran his finger across the screen. “Hello?”

“How’s it going?” Bunny’s energetic voice chirped. Like him, she was a morning person.

“Pretty darn good. And you?” He did feel good. Summer had hinted about coaching, and he was excited at the prospect.

“Fine.” Bunny’s tone turned all business. She was done with the pleasantries. “Good job with the schoolteacher. The press is eating her up. I knew she’d be our ticket to World Wide. I had dinner with their director of sales last night, and he says the deal is as good as done. We’re in.” Gleeful wasn’t a strong enough word for the tone of Bunny’s voice. She loved to win, and this was a big one.

Why wasn’t he happier about it?

“The schoolteacher put us over the top. I think you should keep it up for a few more weeks, just to seal it, and then after, you can go your separate ways. She might be a little heartbroken, but after a while, she’ll be happy to have her life back. What you’ve done with her is nothing short of miraculous—”

“Stop.” He gripped the phone so tightly that it should have broken in half. “I’m in love with her.”

Five seconds of silence was followed by rich, deep laughter. “That’s a good one. You almost had me.”

“Summer is the one. My one.” Clint had never been more certain. The family he wanted to make with her was more important than the family he already had.

“Really?” Bunny sounded like she needed some convincing. “She looks good on paper.”

“She’s even better in person,” Clint growled out. He shouldn’t have to convince his aunt that he was in love. Why couldn’t she take his word for it? “I’m going to marry her, if she’ll have me.”

Bunny took a deep breath and let it out through her nose. He could almost see her chewing on the earpiece of her reading glasses. “Good for you. From what I can tell, she complements you and you, her. It’s about time that you found out what’s important in life and build one that’s real.”

Clint was confused and a little uneasy. Bunny sounded happy and sincere, which should have been exciting, except that his aunt wasn’t the emotional type, and she didn’t always have his best interests at heart.

“I’d love your blessing, but I want to make it clear that this isn’t a media stunt. This is the rest of my life, and reporters aren’t invited. From now on, my private life stays private.” Clint had always wanted the distinction, but he’d never voiced it. Summer was teaching him that he didn’t need to pretend to be someone he wasn’t because he was just fine the way he was.

“Okay.” Bunny took a deep, cleansing breath. She reached for something, probably a stress ball. “On a personal note, I’m happy for you…truly.” Her tone was softer now, comforting. This was the Bunny he remembered from childhood. “You’re a romantic, always have been. As a child, you liked roses and chocolates and happy endings—sappy stuff. Your father, God rest his angry soul, was an ass. He tried to beat the sappy out of you, but the tiniest spark is still there. You deserve happiness. I’m glad that you finally found it.”

Clint shook his head. “I don’t understand.” What did his father have to do with anything?

“I’d given up hope that you’d find someone and wise up. You seemed bent on besting your father instead of finding your own way,” Bunny said.

“I don’t compare myself to him, the world does,” Clint said. He’d been dealing with the comparisons his whole life. Even in death, everyone thought his father was the better man.

Bunny laughed. “The only one comparing you to anyone is you. Stop running from who you are, and make peace with it. Your father was an ass, but he put up a good front. Only we lucky few know the truth.”

Clint didn’t compare himself to his old man. Did he?

Bunny continued. “Your father hated you because he was jealous. You’re a dreamer and a charmer. He had to work at it…a lot. You’re talented—he wasn’t. He zeroed in on your fear of public speaking because it was your only weakness. It was the only way to control you. And no one loved control more. When he was the boss, he felt better than the rest of the world, which, in his eyes, made him a winner. That piece of psychosis belongs to our father. Thank God you never met him. He was the original son of a bitch.” Bunny snorted. “You’re nothing like your father.”

Clint didn’t know what to say. Did he compare himself to his father? Everything Clint had ever done had been defined in terms of his father…or had it? Summer didn’t even know who Big Billy Grayson was, much less care. And none of the students had ever mentioned Clint’s father. Come to think of it, the media hadn’t brought up his old man in a long time. Was Clint really the only person comparing him to Big Billy?

Clint needed to mull this over, and now wasn’t the right time. “I need to go. I’m at school helping some of the kids work out.”

“Fine. This concludes the touchy-feely, afterschool-special synopsis of your life. Marry your schoolteacher, and give me some fat grandnieces and nephews to spoil.” Bunny hung up.

Clint stuffed his phone in his pocket as he walked up to Mario. “Can I talk to you?”

Clint smiled to himself. Babies…he wanted a bunch of them.

Butterflies the size of vultures banged around in his stomach. He had a surprise for Mario, but based on the last surprise he’d cooked up, he didn’t know how this one would be received.

“Sure, man. Guys, this is Mr. Grayson. Give us a minute.” Mario’s chest puffed out with importance, and Clint got the impression Mario had just been elevated to God status. Clint nodded—everyone deserved to be big man on campus at least once in his life.

The other ten guys walked over to the sidelines, congregating around a wooden bench.

“What’s up?” Mario smiled his eager, young smile.

“I’m hoping you can help me out with something.” Clint had been working on his pitch. Summer had said that Mario didn’t do charity, so Clint needed to sell it as something else.

“Sure.” Mario said. “Name it.”

“I’m looking for a housekeeper…well, it’s not so much the cleaning as having someone watch the house. I travel a lot, so I was hoping I could find someone, preferably a family, to move into my guesthouse and watch my place when I’m gone. Cleaning would be part of the job and some cooking. Also, I’d love to find someone who could work as a handyman. Change light bulbs, check the pool chemicals…that sort of thing. The job comes with free rent, a car, and a salary. Do you know anyone?”

“Um…” Mario shook his head.

“Of course, the handyman job pays separate from the housekeeping. I was thinking maybe a husband and wife or a mother and son? I really need someone who’s good with cars.” This was as blatant as Clint could be without coming out and asking Mario if he and his mother wanted the jobs.

Mario scratched his head, and his eyes lit up. “I could do it, and my mother cleans office buildings at night, so the cleaning wouldn’t be a problem.” He swallowed and shuffled from foot to foot. “Here’s the thing, she’s not legal. I am, and my sisters are, but my mother snuck over on fake papers about seventeen years ago.”

Assuming that was the case, Clint had already looked into the process of citizenship. “I’d be happy to sponsor her, and I’m sure with stable employment and character references, citizenship won’t be a problem. My aunt and manager is a pit bull. We’ll sic her on the immigration office.”

Mario’s eyes swam with tears. “Really? Oh man.” He hugged Clint tightly. “I can’t believe it. I’ll work so hard. You won’t have to do anything. I’ll take care of everything for you.” He let go and stepped back, embarrassed.

Mario glanced at the guys on the sidelines then turned his back on them and used the hem of his tee shirt to wipe his eyes.

Clint pulled his phone out of his back pocket and handed it to Mario. “Why don’t you take five, call your mom, and see what she thinks. Maybe y’all could move in today or tomorrow. I’ll hire some movers.”

Mario grinned sheepishly. “My mom doesn’t have a phone. Her cell got turned off last month because she couldn’t pay the bill.”

“Why don’t you divide the others into two teams so I can watch you in action. I’ll call Summer—Ms. Ames—and have her drive over and ask your mother.” Clint checked his watch.

Devon and the other offensive line should be here soon, but that was a surprise. He couldn’t wait to see the boys’ faces when they saw Austin’s Wrecking Crew walk out onto the field. Clint had taken Summer’s advice to call in reinforcements, and when he’d contacted his buddies, they’d been more than happy to lend a hand.

“Thanks, man.” Mario nodded, wiped his face with the sleeve of his shirt, and walked to the other boys. “Grayson says to divide into teams. Darius, you’re QB for team two, I’ll take team one.”

Clint scrolled for Summer’s number and walked to the other side of the field. He combed his fingers through his hair and hit dial. He hadn’t exactly talked this over with her first. His last attempt to fix things, Summer’s makeover, hadn’t gone so well, but he couldn’t sit by and let Mario and his family live like that, not when he could help. Her phone rang.