Summer's Promise

Summer opened her mouth to say something then, but if David was right and Bert and Spring had made other provisions for the children, perhaps her promise wouldn’t matter. Hopefully, Spring’s mind had been rambling when she’d made her request. Summer had volunteered to stay at the farm and help with the children until David could check out the will, but her mother had insisted that she go back to her job.

“You’ve already missed more than a week of work,” Clara Weaver said. “We’re getting along fine with the children. You’ve always sacrificed for your family, but it’s time for you to think about your own future. Don’t worry about us.”

Three days after the funeral, her father took Summer and David to the Columbus airport where David’s flight to Atlanta was scheduled an hour before she left.

After they checked in and cleared security, David said, “Let’s get something to drink before my plane leaves.”

Summer agreed, although she was eager to be rid of David as well as everyone else who distressed her. The first time she’d met David, it had taken months for her to erase his memory from her mind, and the longer she stayed around him now, the more difficult it would be to forget him.

At a small coffee shop, Summer found a table overlooking the runway while David brought coffee for himself and a glass of orange juice for her.

David was alert to Summer’s moods, and although he understood how the tragic events of the last week would have disturbed her, he sensed she was troubled about something else. She’d hardly spoken on the drive from the farm to the airport, and she’d given a sigh of relief when her father had told them goodbye at curbside and she had entered the airport. Why was she so eager to leave the farm?

She sipped on the glass of orange juice and stared out the window, but David didn’t think she was aware of the departing planes. He studied her face speculatively.

“Are you all right, Summer?” he asked at last. She turned her moody blue eyes toward him, as if she’d forgotten he was even there.

“What? Oh, yes, I’m all right. It’s been a bad week.”

“I couldn’t sleep last night, worrying about the kids. It’s a terrible experience for them to lose both their parents. I wish I could do something to help, but a bachelor doesn’t have any business trying to raise children.”

Summer opened her mouth to tell him about her dilemma, for she thought David would understand, but he heard an announcement on the loudspeaker and drained the last of his coffee. “My plane is boarding now. I’ll have to go.”

Summer walked to the gate with him. Before he got in line, he put his arm around her waist, and Summer’s body tingled at the contact. Grinning and arching his eyebrows teasingly, he said, “I’ve learned you’re not very good at answering letters, but how about phone calls? Will you answer if I phone you occasionally?”

Summer’s face grew warm to be reminded that she’d ignored his friendly overtures two years earlier.

“I’ll answer,” she said quietly.

His arm tightened around her waist. “Good. You’ll hear from me in a few weeks.”

Summer watched David’s plane take off before she moped down the corridor toward her boarding gate. She wished she’d had time to tell David what she’d promised Spring, but if he learned how she was fretting over her responsibility, he might be disappointed in her. She didn’t want David to have a poor opinion of her.

Back in her apartment sanctuary, Summer was ashamed that she’d even hesitated to do what Spring had asked her to do. She excused her attitude by claiming lack of experience in child rearing. She would make a lousy foster mother. But if she didn’t take care of the children, who would? Certainly, her mother wasn’t physically able to raise them.

Holding out hope that Spring’s mind had been wandering on her deathbed, and that she and Bert had made other arrangements for the future of Nicole and Timmy, Summer resumed her usual schedule. If only she could dismiss from her mind the scene she’d witnessed on the day of the funeral, she could get on with her life.

After the family returned from the cemetery, Timmy and Nicole had gone to the barn to look at the Belgian colts. Summer had watched from the dining room window as the two children returned to the house. Walking hand in hand, they’d stopped in front of the open window and didn’t see Summer, who was partially hidden by the draperies. Timmy was crying and Nicole put her arms around him.

“What’ll we do, Nicole? We’re too little to stay by ourselves.”

“Don’t cry, Timmy. God will take care of us. God still loves us even if He did take Mommy and Daddy away. He’ll send somebody to take their place. You’ll see!”

Timmy had looked up at his sister, and a timid smile brightened his tear-streaked face. “I’ll bet He will, too.” Then his smile faded. “But who else will love us like Mommy and Daddy did?”

Summer should have gone to the children right then and told them she’d look after them, but her feet seemed glued to the floor. The opportunity was lost when Landon Weaver came from the barnyard and invited the children to take a drive with him.

Summer forced herself to resume her normal work routine, and when she was at the bank, she didn’t think about the children. It was only when she went home and read e-mail messages from Ohio that her sister’s dying request destroyed her peace of mind. If only she hadn’t made that promise!

Summer was late getting home the following Friday evening, and the message light on the telephone’s answering machine was flashing when she entered the apartment. With a trembling hand, she pushed the play button.

“Summer, this is David Brown. I arrived in New York this afternoon, and I must talk with you.” He gave the name of a hotel and a telephone number, adding, “Please telephone as soon as you get home. I’m in Room 908.”

Retribution time had arrived. With bated breath, Summer dialed the number and extension.

“David,” she said, when he answered immediately as if he’d been sitting with his hand on the phone. “I worked late today—that’s the reason I didn’t call sooner.”

“Bert and Spring did make wills, and I need to discuss them with you. Could we meet for dinner this evening?”

Having a good idea what David would tell her, Summer didn’t want to be in a public place when they talked. “It’s been a long day, David, and I really don’t want to go out again. Why don’t you come to my apartment? I’ll order some food from the deli on the first floor.”

“Suits me. What time?”

Summer glanced at her watch. It was seven o’clock. “Give me an hour.” She told him the name of the apartment complex and her number. Replacing the receiver, she sat on the couch and lowered her head to her hands. She didn’t have time to mope if she wanted to be ready when David arrived, but she was scared. Surely if Spring had understood Summer’s situation, she wouldn’t have asked for that promise.

Rousing after a few minutes, Summer telephoned the deli and ordered large servings of chicken stir-fry and fruit salad, for she remembered David had a big appetite. She showered rapidly and put on blue cotton slacks and a white knit blouse. She didn’t take time to wash her hair, but she brushed it briskly. Although not given to taking medication, Summer suddenly realized her head was throbbing, and she took a couple of aspirin that she kept on hand for emergencies. If she’d ever faced an emergency, it was now.

She arranged floral-patterned mats on the small table and set two glasses in the refrigerator to chill. She checked to be sure she had enough cheesecake for dessert, and when the deli delivered her order, she put the food in the small oven to keep it warm. She had barely finished her preparations when a buzzer sounded. She pushed a button to release the door when she saw David’s smiling face through the peephole.

“Come in, David,” she said cordially, although her throat was dry. “Your telephone message surprised me.”

He took her hand and squeezed it gently. “Thanks for seeing me on such short notice.”

He wore a wine-colored blazer, gray trousers, a brick-striped dress shirt and a silk tie that matched his blazer. David had wide soaring eyebrows and a straight nose. A long profile kept him from being overly handsome, but Summer had never seen a better-groomed man. His short, straight hair, extending backward from a high forehead, was neatly trimmed to his nape. She understood why he would make a good detective, for his brown eyes, steady in their scrutiny, seemed to take in every detail of her apartment and her appearance with one swift glance.

“Can your business wait until we’ve eaten?” Summer asked. “I had a light lunch, and I’m hungry.”

David removed his coat and laid aside the briefcase he carried. “Sounds good to me. I had a meal between Atlanta and New York several hours ago. You’ve got a nice apartment,” he added, as she invited him into the kitchenette.

“My living quarters were pretty bleak when I first came to New York,” she answered with a low laugh, “but my recent job promotion came with a large increase in salary, so I moved into this apartment a couple of months ago. I like living here.”

David gave her a strange, pensive glance as they sat at the table.

“I hope you like chicken stir-fry,” Summer said as she took foil-covered containers from the oven, arranged them on a silver tray and placed it on the table. She set out bowls of fruit salad from the refrigerator. “Would you rather have iced tea or a soft drink?”

“Iced tea, without sugar, please.”

During the two days they’d spent together in Pennsylvania, David and Summer had discussed their respective jobs, so there didn’t seem to be much for them to talk about now. Suspecting why David had come to see her, Summer wanted to forestall the discussion as long as possible.

David couldn’t think of any subject except what he’d come to tell Summer, and how that news was going to burst the bubble she’d built around herself in New York. They’d already covered the weather, so David finally said, “Looks like you’ve adjusted to city life.”

“There really wasn’t much adjustment to make. I’ve always liked to be alone, and it’s easy to lose oneself in a big city.”

She served him a slice of cheesecake, but didn’t take any herself.

“We’re different in that way,” he said. “I want lots of people around me.”

“I learned to find happiness in my own thoughts and company when I was a child. I’m only a year older than Autumn, and she’s prettier and more friendly than I am, so she got most of the attention.”