Summer by Summer (5 page)

But Mom had picked up on the sudden change in Summer as well. “Of course it was. I’d never doubt that.”

Summer blinked, nodded again as if the motion would pull her strength from the ground where it had melted into the concrete and place it back on her shoulders. “I’ve been away from my youth group for the last year.”

I continued to listen, but my heart almost ached for her. She shrugged. “Just got busy I guess.”

Mom placed a hand over Summer’s. I’d itched to do the same — which completely took me by surprise. “You miss it though, don’t you?” Mom’s ever-understanding eyes stayed on her.

“Yes,” she whispered. It was one word, and in it, the sorrow of the world.

Summer

Xunantunich was everything Sandra had promised. The ruins were set atop the Mopan River and jutted into the sky surrounded by trees and vegetation at the base. The lowest level was a wide section of stairs, the upper a rocky pyramid. I stood on the top of the steps while the Garrisons climbed higher.

Bray’s voice surprised me. “Aren’t you coming on up?”

I angled to face him, gathering my hair behind me. It hadn’t been windy at the bottom, but up here, the breeze tossed it around. “No. Thanks.”

He slipped his hands into his pockets and followed my gaze out to the landscape of green tropics around us. “The view is ten times better up there.”

“I’m . . . good here.”

“You can see Guatemala from the top. How often can you stand in one country and look at another?”

“I suppose you could in Canada.” I didn’t want Bray’s inquisitions, though he seemed genuine enough. In fact, since the lunch at the taco place, he’d seemed fairly civil.

“Where else?”

“Lots of places in Europe. I’ve seen pictures of a castle in Germany where you’re overlooking the French countryside.”

Bray shifted his weight. “You’re scared of heights, aren’t you?”

He wasn’t being mean . . . at least, I didn’t think so. He was just asking a logical question. “A little.”

The wind shifted, and Bray’s scent, a mix of spiciness and sweat
from the climb, entered my nose. I didn’t hate it. “It’s okay, Summer. We’re all scared of something. Those who say they aren’t are lying.”

I couldn’t help but smile. I didn’t bother to tell him my worst fear was claustrophobia. “Go on up with your folks and Joshie. I’ll wait here for you guys.”

Before he left, he touched my arm. “You sure?” His dark blue eyes were soft now. I didn’t want to like that they were filled with concern.

“Positive.” I smiled. He smiled back. What do you know; we could be civil after all.

CHAPTER 3

Summer

“He’s shallow, Bec. One nice gesture doesn’t erase all that.” I lay on my bed, staring at my pink-painted toes. I’d rested them on a pillow for good viewing while Becky, my best friend, yammered on the other end of the phone line about summer in Sarasota. I hated to admit it, but the makeover had been fun. Almost as fun as Xunantunich, even if I didn’t climb to the top.

And I liked my sparkly pink toes. They were like tiny little peek-a-boo surprises every time I uncovered my feet.

“I bought some new clothes. It’s really too hot for the long skirts I’ve been wearing.”
And I don’t want to look like a senior citizen tourist anymore.
I wiggled my toes so they would sparkle. “Shorts mostly, a few shorter skirts. We found a sale and Sandra insisted. I paid for most of the clothes — I refused to try them on otherwise. She’d already spent a fortune at the spa. But I think she ended up enjoying the day more than I did; wow did she have fun! You know, fixing the ugly duckling and all. I think the entire place decided it was their duty to bring me out.”

“Do you like how you look?” Becky asked.

I leaned up and took in my reflection in the closet mirror. “I feel pretty, Bec. It’s nice to feel like that sometimes.”

“You’ve always been pretty, Summer. You just hide it.”

I ran a hand through my hair and admired the shades. “I’m not trying to hide anything. I just never gave it too much thought.” Becky didn’t understand. She grew up in a house full of girls, older sisters who’d taught her how to wear makeup, how to dress in clothes that were flattering. My mom was a work-from-home CPA. She never wore makeup and usually was still in her pajamas when I got home from school. Not that she was too lazy to change, she was just too busy. Work came first. Appearances second . . . or maybe last after everything else. I cast a glance to my closet and had to smile. It didn’t look all the same anymore. There were cute tops, tanks, shorts, and sandals alongside my ballet slippers and floral dresses. Variety. Oh, and two new swimsuits. One, a ridiculous hot pink bikini Sandra picked out and insisted on buying, complete with a bright cover-up and a yellow floppy hat. Very island chic.

“So . . .” I could hear the question in Becky’s voice. “You’re not going to have some weird identity crisis now that the world sees how beautiful you are, are you?”

I chuckled. “No, I’m still the same. It’s not about clothing, anyway. It’s about attitude. People acting a certain way because they think they can, hurting others.”

“You’re pretty jaded, Summer.”

Silence. I was. Jade was the new shade of me since last summer. Some things that happen to a person make them stronger, and some things shatter them into bits. If you are strong enough, determined enough, one day those bits meld back into a whole being. I was midmeld and wondering if I’d ever fully recover.

Outside, the wind whistled through the palm trees. We’d stayed quiet on the phone for a while. “Are things good back home?”

“Yes. I’m doing a summer stint at a daycare for children
recovering from the burn unit at the hospital. It should help me land a spot in the nursing program at Sarasota Memorial.”

“That’s great, Becky.”

“They wanted applicants with patient care experience. It’s all about strategy getting into the programs. But I’m loving working with the kids. They’re so strong and amazing. They don’t let anything get to them. It’s an experience I’ll never forget.”

Becky. Always quick with compassion and always the girl with the future plans. We’d been friends since middle school, and I think she’d wanted to be a nurse that long.

“Summer.” Her voice softened. “Just so you know, I’ve been leaving fresh flowers at the graveside each week. Just like you asked me to.”

I closed my eyes. I could picture it so clearly in my head. Becky walking the winding path, pausing beneath the massive oak tree. Removing the old flowers and placing fresh, new ones there. Before my mind could read the headstone, I closed out the image. “I knew you would.”

After our good-byes, I hung up and listened to the soft sound of waves rolling onto the sand. Pretty jaded. That was pretty much an understatement.

“Mom tells me you’d like to try diving.” Bray had stepped outside onto the back patio and was now blocking my perfect view of the ocean.

“Uh . . .” Yes, I was a great conversationalist.

“Cory and I are taking some people out on a charter dive trip. You could go. It wouldn’t cost you anything. Free trip.” He grinned down at me.

In the last few days, Bray had made plans for the family — including me — to hike the rainforest, visit the unusual animal sanctuary where the jaguars lived, and take a boat trip to the Great
Blue Hole. It wasn’t that I didn’t appreciate being included, I just sometimes felt like a third wheel. I wasn’t part of the family, but there I was, smack in the middle of family photos — which Bray insisted on taking everywhere we went. Sometimes he’d ask me to take pictures of the four of them, but half the time he was behind the camera. It almost felt like he was trying — a little too hard — to make me comfortable. I had no idea how to take that.

“I don’t know how to dive.”

“No problem. Cory, the guy with the awesome house, is a dive master. They do a one-day class. It won’t give you a full dive certification, but will cover you for the dive on the cays.”

The cays. Ooooooh. That made it tempting.

“Why is it free?”

“Cory’s dad owns a dive shop here on the island. He has to go back to the States for a week and Cory asked if I’d go and help him out. I told him you were coming with me. The group of tourists already paid for the boats, so it’s all good. Room for one more.”

Perfect. Though my desire to see the cays was great, there just seemed to be something disingenuous about this offer, the smile that accompanied it, the charming voice.

“It’s really sweet of you, but I don’t think I want to go.”

He shrugged. “Yes you do.” Bray dropped onto the swing beside me. I could feel those blue eyes penetrating right through the lie I was getting ready to tell him.

I huffed. He was right. I did want to go. Especially since it wasn’t going to be him and a bunch of friends — if that had been the case, no way. He and Cory were taking tourists. I’d be just another sightseer along for the ride. And I would finally get to experience the cays and all that magical clear-blue water. I must have been smiling.

I felt him lean closer. “You’re gonna love it.” The words vibrated close to my ear. Warm breath feathered my arm, floating down to my hands and disappearing into the coastal breeze.

“Diving. It’s . . . it’s a little scary.” I glanced over at him because I needed him to know, really know, that the whole idea frightened me because I’d be putting my life in his and Cory’s hands. Sure, I knew people went diving every day, and I was pretty sure Cory had never killed anyone. But diving was dangerous. And I didn’t turn over my life to people easily. Trust was an issue for me. I’d trusted Michael and look what that got me.

I’d trusted God. I didn’t understand why good things happened to bad people and bad things happened to good people. But the fact was, they did. All the time. Again, trust threw me a curve ball. I searched Bray, the planes of his face cutting a strong profile beside me. He was motionless for a few moments, as if he understood the battle going on inside. But then he pivoted to face me, his deep-water blue eyes filled with a mix of certainty and strength. Bray’s tongue slipped out to moisten his lips. “I’ll keep you safe, Summer. I swear.”

My heart fluttered. I wanted to believe Bray was using his alpha-male skills on me like he’d probably done on a thousand other girls in high school and college. But there was something honest in the depths of his eyes. My mind begged to trust it. My heart assured me trusting him was a one way ticket to nowhere good.

That night, I opened my Bible for the first time in almost a year. I read for a while and my gaze seemed to stall on one line.
I wish above all things that you would prosper and be in health.

I thought on that for a while. What was it saying to me? Was it God’s message to me that good things — like prospering and being in health — were His plan for me? It didn’t say
above all else I wish you sickness and poverty.
There had been a time when I read this book with fervor. But when the crisis came, I felt like God had given up on me. But what if I had it backward? What if I gave up on him?

I’d agreed to go on the dive trip. But I couldn’t quite as quickly open my heart to a God I felt had left me when I needed Him most.