Summer's Road (26 page)

Dee snapped to. “Oh, Summer. It’s lovely!”

“Yes.” Rick cleared his throat, not unmoved. “It is lovely.” Pulling Summer close, he kissed her cheek. “I love it. I love
you
. Thank you.”

Summer patted her chest. “It’s from here. And I love you, too.”

Every time I saw one of her pieces, it blew me away. She painted with the passion she tried to bottle in her life—a coping mechanism on her part, since she abhorred attention. I got to see that side of her, though, the one most never did. When we made love or fought or laughed at some ridiculous thing, she came alive.

I was about to suggest we leave so I could get her out of that dress when someone from the Charlotte Observer pulled her aside, occupying a good twenty minutes.

Eventually, she made her way back, where I’d been pretending to listen to the conversation between my parents, Rick, and Dee when, in actuality, I was imagining all the ways I’d get her to moan my name.

“I’ll meet you back home?” She smiled, clutching her purse.

We’d taken separate cars since she’d needed to be here early. I leaned close to her so the others couldn’t hear, closing my eyes as her lilac scent enveloped me. “The parental units are staying at my place tonight and driving back to Seasmoke tomorrow. I’ll meet you in your bedroom.” I nuzzled her ear with my nose. “I can’t wait to unwrap you.”

She sucked in a breath, eyes clouding. “Okay.” On unsteady legs, she headed for the door.

We stood by the coat check area, awaiting Dee and Mom’s purse, when my mother gasped.             

“Oh no, it can’t be!” She grabbed my father’s arm. “Honey, look!”

I followed their gaze to the door, where a woman was talking to Summer. Her shoulders were a little tense, but there wasn’t anything that triggered an alarm from me. I didn’t see the big deal. After Summer stepped outside, the woman on her heels, I refocused on them. My dad’s eyes grew comically large and my mom looked like she was gonna pass out.

“What’s going on?”

“It’s Sharon.” Mom’s wide eyes met mine. “That’s Summer’s mother.”

Christ. No. What?

My heart shoved against my chest. I made for the door and stepped outside, scanning the sidewalk and street, but she wasn’t there. Hell. Racing back inside, I motioned for the others to hurry up. We rushed to the valet stand in unison.

“Did anyone know about this?” I stopped pacing long enough to glare at my parents, then Rick and Dee.

They shook their heads. The driver pulled up with my parents’ car, Rick and Dee’s right behind. Mine was rounding the corner from the parking garage. I rubbed the tension in my neck.

“I had a talk with Summer at Seasmoke about her mama.” Mom stepped up to the passenger side of their car and held the door open. “I thought it was time to tell her some things. Maybe Summer invited her, that’s why Sharon came?”

If so, it was one more thing in a long line she hadn’t told me. It was getting a little tiresome.

“I can’t take this. I’m worried sick.” I pulled the ticket from my pocket and handed it to the valet. I glanced at Rick and Dee, standing outside their vehicle. “I’ll call you.”

I jumped in the car, peeled out, and headed toward Summer.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Summer

I
drummed my fingers on the steering wheel as I made the last turn for home. It had been a struggle to focus on the drive so I didn’t kill myself in a violent wreck before I was able to confront Sharon.

Again.

When someone had tapped my arm as I was leaving the benefit and Sharon stood there, that last hold I had on sanity pulled away like a rug under my feet. Just like the first time Sharon had shown up, it had taken me a moment to realize who I was looking at. She’d made the effort to come and I felt trapped. Not wanting to cause a scene, I’d told her to follow me back to the house.

Headlights in my rearview mirror informed me Sharon had stayed close. I pulled into the drive, exited the car, and walked to the front door. I didn’t say a word when Sharon silently followed me into the house. Making my way through the living room to the kitchen, I flipped the lights on and set a kettle to boil.

Unsure what to do, my head was a mess, I turned away from the stove to my mother. Sharon wore a short black cocktail dress with heels that made my feet hurt just by looking at them. Her short, champagne-colored hair was neatly styled away from her face, showing fine lines around her eyes.

“I’m just going to make some tea and then we can go sit in the other room.”

She nodded, wringing her hands. “I was surprised to get your invitation in the mail. I didn’t think you’d ever want to see me again.”

I still wasn’t so sure I did, so I turned back to the stove, choosing my words carefully. “I feel bad about what I said the last time you were here. Regardless of how I feel, you came all the way from Texas to see me…”

The kettle whistled. I transferred the tea bags into mugs and handed one to Sharon, who looked as tired as me. Letting my hands warm around the mug, I sighed. “Listen, when I was growing up, Daddy—”

The back door flew open, banging against the wall, and Ian barreled inside. He took mere seconds to size up Sharon and then turned those violently frightened dark eyes on me. His mouth thinned. “Are you all right?” His hands fisted at his sides as he huffed air like he’d run all the way here.

Sharon’s eyebrows disappeared into her hairline, a cross between amusement and alarm in her expression.

“I’m fine, Ian. You can wait upstairs.”

“The hell, I can. I’m not leaving.” He zeroed in on Sharon. “What in the hell are you doing here?” Sharon stepped back in surprise. He looked to me. “What is she doing here?”

Moving closer, I slid my arms around his waist and kissed his jaw. His tense muscles eased a margin, but he was still rigid with concern. “I’m okay,” I said softly. “I asked her to come. Please wait upstairs?”

He looked down his nose at me, hesitant. His chest stopped moving as he studied me. A tick from his jaw, and he finally nodded.

Sharon made a sound of acknowledgement. “Ian Memmer? Mark and Ruth’s boy?”

Up went Ian’s spine as he whipped her a glance that would have made a Hell’s Angel cower.

“Ian,” I warned.

He sighed, and cupped my cheek. I covered his hand with my own. “You sure, sweetheart?”

“Positive.”

Drawing in a harsh breath, he nodded and let it out. After he left the room and I heard his footsteps on the stairs, I closed my eyes to pull a second of composure.

“I’m sorry. He’s…protective.”

Sharon pressed her lips together to hide a smirk. “He used to have colic as a baby. Such a little temper as a toddler.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Some things haven’t changed.”

Sharon brought a hand up to her throat and shook her head. “My Lord, he looks just like Mark.”

I grinned, and suddenly, the tension in the room dissolved. The past twenty years slipped away. For a moment, we were just mother and daughter, sharing a laugh. “He does look just like his dad, but I don’t know where he gets the broody thing.”

“He still lives next door? Are you two…a couple?”

“It’s complicated and new, but yes.” A little surprised I’d admitted her into this part of my life, I paused. “Let’s go sit in the living room.”

Curling my feet under me, I sat in a recliner and adjusted my dress to cover my legs.

Sharon perched on the edge of the couch as if preparing to run if necessary.

I wondered how to start a conversation with a woman I never knew, but yet held all the secrets of my past. Though not physically here, she’d been such a presence in my life. “Growing up, Daddy used fairy tales to explain why you weren’t here.”

Sharon opened her mouth, but quickly closed it again. Instead of talking, she sipped her tea.

I tried a different tactic. “When we were kids, the Memmers bought a beach house in Myrtle. I found a picture of you, me, and Daddy. We were in the mountains somewhere—”

“Ashville.” She cleared her throat and looked at me. “You were two-and-a-half. The Holcombs and the Memmers were there with us. The O’Callahauns couldn’t come, or didn’t want to because I was there. You used to play with their son, um…Rick.”

I processed that information. “Rick got married a couple years ago. His wife, Dee, is expecting.”

Sharon smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “What about the picture?”

Drawing a breath, I forced myself not to chicken out. “Daddy never told me you came back. And then I saw that and…”

“And you wanted to know what happened?” Sharon set her tea cup on the table and wrung her hands. When she looked up at me again, tears brimmed her lashes. “I’ve been waiting a long time to have this conversation, Summer. When I came here before, I understood why you were angry. I didn’t realize Tom hadn’t told you.”

My worst fear right there—that Daddy hadn’t been honest with me. And here it was, the moment I’d wished for all my life. I wondered if a person could take wishes back.

“When you were a baby and I left, it was just like I said before, I wasn’t cut out for being a mother. I’m a recovering alcoholic. I was a social drinker then, but after you were born, my depression got worse. I moved to Houston, where my grandparents lived. After a couple years, I called Tom, and he agreed to let me see you. We took that trip to Ashville and I knew then what a mistake I’d made.”

She had depression, too. Is that where I’d gotten it from? Heredity? The fragile connection had been enough to make me pause. Because...I understood.

“And yet you left again.”

The bitterness in my tone couldn’t be helped. The drumming in my ears should’ve served as a warning. I was still so very angry. For every missed birthday and school function, and every moment that should have been mine. If Sharon had died when I was a baby, maybe things would be different. I wouldn’t have tortured myself with what was so wrong with me that even my mother didn’t want me. But that hadn’t happened. Sharon had left on her own.

“Because he asked me to.” Sharon’s calm gaze met mine.

“What?”

Tears spilled out of her eyes and into her lap. She didn’t try to brush them away. “He said he loved me and always would. He said there would never be anyone else for as long as he lived. But he couldn’t trust me not to change my mind again, to not drink again, and that protecting you meant losing me.”

Oh God,
the pain
. I stood and turned my back. The room blurred around me. I placed a hand on the wall for support.
Daddy
had kept my mother from me. I thought was going to be sick. Plopping back into the chair with a hand over my mouth, I breathed through the nausea.

“I could have fought him, but you were everything to Tom, and he was everything to me.” Her voice broke, dangerously close to a wail. “I thought I was doing the right thing. After the trip to Ashville, I never drank again.”

I pinched my eyes closed, like the scared kid I’d been all those years ago. When I opened them, Sharon was in front of me, kneeling and trying to take my hands.

“I’m sorry. I should have come sooner. I should have stayed then.”

Trembling, I blew out a breath and was surprised to find my cheeks wet, my mother wiping the tears away like I’d wanted her to do too many times.

She was here now. What did that mean?

“Don’t be angry with him,” she said. “He was protecting you. I could have come anyway and didn’t because I was weak. I was a coward. My depression has been under control for a long time, but my guilt isn’t. I let it control my life. My mother had depression, too.”

“So do I.” My hollow voice rang in my ears. Would it even have mattered if Sharon had been here? If Daddy hadn’t died? I still would’ve had this condition. Looking back on my life, I’d let depression and anxiety control me. I’d sought help, thanks to Ian, but it had almost been too late for me.

All the energy drained out of me. Blame didn’t do any good now. It wouldn’t fix the broken girl I’d been or change the past.

I looked into my mother’s eyes, eyes that were the exact same shade of blue as mine. “He died four years ago.”

“I know. I found out after the funeral. I actually started driving to see you—”

I shook my head to stop her. “Yes, you should have come, but that’s not what I meant. He never remarried, never loved anyone else but you.” I slid my hands out from under hers. “And I think he wished for this moment all the years he was alive. He was my whole world, so we need to grant him that wish.”

Standing, I glanced around the living room and everything that reminded me of Daddy. “I need some time to think about this.” Again, just like before, I paused over what to call my mother. “Give me some time.”

“My coming here was not about the house, Summer.” She handed me an envelope. “I just wanted you and the house was an excuse. When you told me to go, I panicked.”

“What is this?” I tore open the envelope.

Sharon didn’t have to answer, I saw for myself. She’d signed the house back into my name. It was over. Things as they should be. So why did it still feel all wrong?

Sharon grabbed her purse from the couch and reached into it. “I didn’t know what to expect, so I booked a room for the week. Here’s where I’m staying. Not that you need to call right away or anything…” Pausing, the ramble left hanging, she clutched her purse to her chest.

She walked to the door and hesitated again. Turning, she avoided my eyes. “I’m not the best person to be giving advice, and maybe it’s none of my business, but the
complicated
part of your relationship with Ian? Try to fix it. Don’t go twenty years only to look back and regret it.”

I watched her go, frozen for a few moments, then glanced at the staircase and sighed. Ian was waiting for round two.

I
f someone had told me three months ago my long-lost mother would be coming back to see me, that it had been Daddy’s choice to keep her away, that Ian Memmer was in love with me, that Matt Holcomb would ask me to marry him, and that I’d be opening my own studio, I would’ve committed them to the loony bin, complete with a straight jacket, padded walls, and crafts on Sundays. But, there it was. That’s exactly what had happened.

And my head reeled.

Leaning back on my elbows, I breathed in the early dawn from my porch steps and listened to the crickets fade into the morning. Cicadas buzzed. Leaves rustled with a caressing breeze.

I hadn’t slept a wink. Not. One. Wink.

Ian and I had it out after I’d gone upstairs last night. He’d been sick with worry and I’d reassured him. We’d had angry sex, and then made love. We’d talked into the hours about what I planned to do about Sharon. He’d been unusually mum on the subject. Awhile ago, I’d left him sleeping in my bed in order to wait for Matt, who was on his way.