The Weather Girl (9 page)

Travis begrudgingly obliged while Summer followed his mom into the kitchen. He didn’t have to go all the way up—he bumped into his dad on the stairs.

“You made it,” the elder Lockwood said, giving his son an awkward pat on the back. Something was up. His dad was smiling. It had been a while since Travis had seen that.

“Mom thought you got lost up there.”

He stopped abruptly at the bottom landing and turned to face Travis, who was right on his heels. Father used to tower over son when Travis was a kid. Now, even though the boy was a man and he could look his dad in the eye, Travis still felt intimidated in his presence. They shared the same broad shoulders and stormy blue eyes. His dad was in good shape for his age, could probably bench-press the same weight as Travis if they made a game of it. There was no one more competitive than Sam Lockwood.

“I was on the phone.” His dad’s strong hand came down on Travis’s bad shoulder. “I think I found the guy who’s going to fix you,” he said in a hushed tone. He smiled wider, then took off for the kitchen, where they could hear nothing but laughter and more clanging.

Travis grabbed his dad’s arm and stopped him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

His dad leaned back to get a look inside the kitchen, and, satisfied no one was paying them any mind, he whispered, “I found a doctor, Trav. This guy has looked at all the reports and all the scans. He thinks he can go in—”

“Dad, I don’t think—”

Clinging to the last of his hope, his father made his case. “I’ve talked to a lot of people, son. All of them say this guy works miracles. He believes we can get you back on the field in a year.”

Travis’s stomach ached, but no longer from hunger. He’d been waiting for his dad to offer up his opinion on what he should do next with his life, but he never thought it would be this. They had been to half a dozen doctors, who had in turn consulted with enough specialists to fill an entire hospital. All of them said Travis risked permanent nerve damage if he continued to play. There was nothing that could be done. Playing football was not an option, and he hated that he had to disappoint his father one more time. As if the past six months hadn’t been enough.

“I’m retired. It’s over,” Travis said, watching his dad’s eyes shift from hopeful back to disappointed. It was almost too much to bear.

“You won’t even go consult with him? Hear him out?”

“I don’t see the point of any more surgeries.”

“So you give up, is that it?”

“I need a plan B, Dad.” They’d had this conversation. After doctors number five and six. Travis needed closure. He couldn’t hold on to old dreams. “I can’t go back. You think I can play, knowing twenty doctors told me one hit could leave me with debilitating pain the rest of my life? Football is as mental as it is physical. I will not be the same player. I won’t be what any team needs. I won’t be who you need me to be.”

“You think I need you to be a sportscaster for a small-town news station?” His father’s words stung worse than the pinched nerves in Travis’s neck.

“I’m doing the only thing that was offered to me. If I could play, I would. I...I can’t.”

“Well, I had no idea I raised a quitter,” his dad said bitterly, leaving Travis standing there thoroughly shamed.

From where he wallowed outside the kitchen, Travis could hear his father turn his frustration on his mother. “Good Lord, Olivia, are you having a bake sale? Who is going to eat all of this stuff?”

“Did you forget how much food your sons eat?” his mom shot back.

“I know how much our oldest eats, but for all I know the one out there gave up on eatin’, too.” His father’s comment was another hit to Travis’s crumbling defenses.

“What in the world are you talking about?” his mom asked. Travis couldn’t understand how the disappointment didn’t exist in her world. He wondered if his parents ever talked about him and what his father shared or didn’t share.

“Nothing, Liv. Nothing,” Travis heard his dad answer.

His mother jumped right into introducing Summer. Travis suddenly regretted bringing the Weather Girl. The last thing he wanted was for Summer to see how dysfunctional his family had become. He mustered up the courage to set foot into the kitchen and was taken aback by the abundance of baked goods. All of Travis’s favorite cookies lay cooling on racks: chocolate chip, peanut butter, oatmeal brown sugar. Brownies, cupcakes and mini pies covered the island. Summer flashed him a smile. She was tying red and white ribbons on bags of treats. His mother must have given her the 1950s frilly and flowery apron she was wearing. Leave it to Summer to figure out how to fit right in just when Travis felt as if he didn’t belong here anymore.

“Did someone say bake sale?” Travis asked as if that were his reason for looking and sounding so dejected.

“See?” his mother said to his father. “He hasn’t lost his appetite. I know my son.” She turned to him. “I made a few extras for the coaches and some of the boosters. But you can have whatever you want.”

He wasn’t as hungry as he had been when he arrived, but Travis wasn’t about to turn down the red velvet goodness she placed in front of him. The cream cheese frosting was homemade and like nothing he’d ever tasted anywhere else. He wasn’t lying when he told Summer his mother’s cupcakes made him cry.

The two women made small talk while they packed up the goodies and watched the men devour what was still fair game. Conner, Heidi and baby Lily showed up, adding another dimension to the conversation. It was interesting to listen to Summer talk about normal “girl” things like the best place to buy shoes. Travis was sure she’d jump right in with a million questions about the Sweetwater tornado. He really needed to stop making assumptions when it came to her. She was always more than he expected.

“So, does the station mind you two dating? Don’t they have rules over there?” Travis’s father was the first one to stick his foot in his mouth.

Summer looked as mortified as Travis felt. The color drained from her face and her eyes flew to his with the accusation that he had somehow given his dad that impression.

They spoke at the same time. “We’re not—”

Conner’s grin showed how much he enjoyed Travis’s torture. “Summer jumps out of hot-air balloons. She probably dates guys way more exciting than Travis.”

Travis glared at his brother for the dig. “Mom wanted to meet her,” he clarified. He looked at his mother, who was smiling as if she knew something he didn’t.

“She’s Summer Raines, the best weather girl West Texas has ever had. I always listen to you. That fool over at Channel 4 never gets it right. I swear, every time he says rain, it’s sunny. Plus, you just seem so sweet. I was happy to hear Travis was traveling around with you, and I’m just gonna say it, because Travis’s aunt Kelly called me the other day and everyone in her neighbor’s book club agrees—you two are too cute together.”

Travis was sure he was going to die right there. His mother had a way of embarrassing him that could win her awards, if they gave awards for those sorts of things.

“Did you know that the lowest recorded temperature in U.S. history was almost eighty degrees below zero?” Summer said in a rush. Travis could see she wanted to stop there but couldn’t. “There’s a camp up in northern Alaska, along the Alaskan pipeline, that reported temps that low back in 1971.”

“Well, that’s fascinating.” His mom smiled. Her manners were impeccable.

Sam froze, a cookie sticking out of his mouth. He broke off half and spoke around the part that was already in his mouth. “What the heck has that got to do with anything?”

Travis set down the chocolate-frosted brownie he was about to bite into and did his best to change the subject. “Summer was hoping you’d share what you remember about the ’86 tornado.”

His mother took his conversational baton and ran with it. She dived into a story that more than satisfied Summer’s curiosity and steered away from any dating discussion. Travis had to wonder how many people his mom had spoken to this past week to come up with such a detailed and exciting tale. If she really had experienced all that, he was mad at her for holding out on him all these years. She went on and on about not having power or water for days, and couldn’t get over that there were never any sirens. It was lucky for the town that only one person was killed.

“Sounding those alarms is so crucial, but predicting something like that is difficult. Sometimes the weather bureau only has a moment’s notice,” Summer said.

Sam rolled his eyes and made a beeline for the door. Travis followed him, feeling the need to confront his dad about being so rude. It was a decision he regretted almost immediately.

“I have to work with her. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t make her feel uncomfortable.”

His father spun around and Travis almost ran into him. They were nose to nose and the tension between them was palpable. “That’s what you’re going to become, isn’t it?” his father asked, pointing back at the kitchen. “Someone who talks about life instead of living it. It’s sad. It’s so sad I can’t bear to watch it happen. This isn’t what I wanted for you.”

Travis could feel the weight of his father’s world come crashing down on top of him. A complete failure, that’s what he was. There was nothing to say as his father turned and headed back upstairs.

CHAPTER NINE

S
UMMER
 
CONSIDERED
 
HERSELF
a dependable, hard-working person. Her follow-through in one particular area was severely lacking, however. Ken had asked Summer to mentor Travis, and so far she had offered him little advice. This needed to be rectified, especially considering all the trouble she’d been having at work lately. A little good karma couldn’t hurt.

In an attempt to find some common ground, Summer had invited Travis to join her for her early-morning workout on Saturday to get the ball rolling. He’d been the one to point out that they were both runners.

The morning sun wasn’t too punishing as they ran the bleachers at Elmer Gray Stadium. Summer used to tag along with Big D on weekends to run the track when he still worked for Abilene Christian University. Simply running a couple miles on a track was too easy for someone like Travis, though. Summer knew she needed to push him harder, so she had given him two choices: the bleachers or the running hills. He thought keeping up with a girl would be a piece of cake. He thought the bleachers were too tough for her. Little did he know he had once again underestimated this particular girl.

Summer beat him to the top on their final climb and waited for him to catch up. Each time his foot hit the step, the aluminum rattled and vibrated.

“I thought you said you ran,” she said, hands on her hips and head cocked to the side.

Travis wiped his sweaty face and tried to catch his breath. “I do run. I run my neighborhood every day.”

“Well, when I asked you to choose between this and the running hills, you’re the one who said, and I quote, ‘Former football player, Sunshine. I can run the bleachers in my sleep.’” Summer shook her head with a smile. “Might I suggest not running these in your sleep? I’d hate to see what would happen if you were unconscious, Sunshine.”

“You.” He pointed at her, still quite winded. “You are not human.”

Summer laughed. Yesterday, she had thought the same thing about him. She shouldn’t have been surprised that Travis Lockwood was a god in Sweetwater. When he was in his element, surrounded by the boys in their uniforms who listened to every word falling from his lips as if it were gospel, he looked as though he was born to lead. The man gave inspirational speeches like no other. Even Pastor John could learn a thing or two from him. Summer could see why he was a successful quarterback; he knew how to encourage, how to listen and how to command the attention of a crowd big or small.

It was so different from the man she had come to know. The one who seemed so unsure of himself, so insecure about his ability to do his job. She’d given him a hard time, but it was clear no one was harder on Travis than Travis himself.

Former teammates and coaches, on the other hand, had nothing but absolute respect for him. She could hear it in the way they spoke to him, about him. She saw it in the way they welcomed him home with arms wide open. His brother obviously had a great love for Travis. His talent on the field won many people over, but it was who, not what, Travis was that made those close to him adore him.

Olivia Lockwood had mentioned more than once how much her son meant to the people of Sweetwater. Many of them had been rooting for him his entire life. That should have been a blessing, but Summer could see how much it pained him, given his early retirement from football. Travis’s injury impacted more than just him, and he seemed to carry the weight of that reality around constantly. Summer watched him practically apologize to everyone at that homecoming game for not living out their hopes and dreams.

Travis’s lack of broadcasting experience had annoyed Summer when they first met, but the truth was this was probably the last thing he wanted to be doing. No one could tell Summer she couldn’t study weather phenomena. Even if she didn’t get paid for it, she could still
do
it. A seemingly healthy Travis didn’t have that luxury. It made her feel guilty for being so mean. It also made her think she could help him focus on his strengths instead of his weaknesses. She’d asked him to bring his camera along, even if it seemed like a strange request for a workout.

* * *

T
HEY
 
WALKED
 
ACROSS
the top of the bleachers for a cool down and then made their way back to ground level. Travis pulled a towel out of his gym bag and rubbed it over his head. “I’d be back in NFL shape in no time if I trained with you.”

Summer bent down to stretch the overworked muscles in her legs that were sure to be sore tomorrow. In her effort to prove him wrong, she’d pushed herself harder than usual. She’d be paying for it later, but it was more than worth it.

“From the look of things, I think I might give you a heart attack. Good thing you’re retired.”

Travis let out a breathy laugh. “Tell my dad that.”

Sam Lockwood was an interesting character. The physical similarities between father and son were stunning. Luckily for Travis, personalitywise, he was one hundred percent his mother. Summer thought the elder Mr. Lockwood was like a troubling weather front. She noticed right away that his dark storm clouds loomed heavily over Travis.

“Dads can be tough. My mom was so much easier to talk to than my dad,” she said, trying to empathize even though her father was basically her hero.

Travis sat down on the metal bleacher and leaned forward, his arms resting on his knees. “My mom is pretty great.”

“She’s amazing, and if I gain weight after finishing off that box of goodies she sent me home with, I’m blaming you, not her.”

He smiled at the ground before looking up to catch her eye. “What happened to your parents? You only talk about them in the past tense.”

Summer hadn’t avoided the subject on purpose. She simply didn’t like to focus on their deaths. Their lives were much more interesting. “They were killed in a car accident by a drunk driver.”

“I’m so sorry,” he said sincerely. “How long ago?”

“Ten years.” She took a seat next to him, grabbing the full water bottle on the ground at his feet. “I was sixteen, homeschooled my whole life and used to doing what I love all day, every day.”

“I can’t imagine losing my parents so young.”

Summer shrugged. At least she’d been old enough to remember them when they passed. She didn’t have to rely on the memories of others. As she looked up at the blue sky, she knew her mom and dad were up there looking out for her. She was also beginning to believe they were helping Ryan convince her to take his job offer. His last email tempted her with pictures of penguins swimming in icy waters alongside someone in a kayak. The subject line read “No penguins in Texas!” He was right, of course. Not even the Abilene Zoo had penguins.

Thinking about leaving and traveling the world made Summer’s head spin and her stomach hurt. Every time she thought she could be an adventurer right here in Texas, even without the penguins, Ryan would send a tantalizing email or Richard would be especially rude. Then Mimi would call about coming over on Sunday to help plant the fall hyacinth bulbs and Summer’s faith in her decision to stay was firmly renewed. Who would help with all that work if Summer was gone?

“I’m sorry for bringing it up,” Travis said, putting his hand on her knee, clearly misunderstanding why she’d gotten lost in her head for a minute. The warmth of his palm gave her stomach a new reason to flip-flop.

She shook her head and told him not to apologize. Talking about her parents didn’t depress her anymore. Dwelling on things you couldn’t change was almost as pointless as hating someone. “Grab your stuff. Let’s stretch on the grass.”

The field was looking rough. The summer drought had not been kind, and since it wasn’t a football field, it rarely got watered. The brown-tipped blades crunched under their feet. There were two groundskeepers working there today. One had been around for years and knew Summer. The other was a younger man with earbuds in. He ignored them as they walked by.

There was talk of tearing this track stadium down and building a football-only venue in its place. Some people didn’t like that idea, but seeing as how football was a way of life around here, it seemed inevitable. Since meeting Travis, Summer was realizing more and more how football dominated in this town, this county and heck, the whole state.

“This isn’t the football practice field, is it?” Travis asked as he kicked the dry ground.

There were football goalposts at each end of the field, but Summer had never known this place to be used for anything but track. “I think they practiced here a while back.” She pointed to the south end of the stadium. “Then they got some fancy turf over on that field over there. I mean, would you be caught dead playing on this?”

Travis’s face fell. “Don’t suppose I would.”

She sat down in the middle of the field and patted the ground next to her for him to join her. Summer didn’t want to put him in a bad mood, but she couldn’t avoid talking about football if she wanted to help him out. She lay back on the grass and looked up at the sky. It had gone from a pretty periwinkle when they first arrived to a late-morning baby blue. Puffy white clouds floated along without a care in the world.

Travis lay down, as well. They were as close as they could be without touching. They probably looked strange, lying in the middle of a burned-out field, but Summer didn’t care. It was a gorgeous day and the bleacher run had taken its toll.

“Ever spend an afternoon looking up at the sky?” she asked, turning her head to find him looking at her and not at the clouds.

“A whole afternoon? That must be a weather girl thing.” He laughed as he looked skyward.

“Meteorologist thing,” she corrected, although she couldn’t picture Richard spending the day looking at the sky.

“Have I been missing out on something?”

“Absolutely.” The sky always reminded her that she was one small part of something much bigger. It was too easy to get caught up in her own drama. Sometimes she needed to remember that the world did not revolve around her. Maybe Travis needed reminding, too. “Do you miss playing football?”

He didn’t answer right away. Travis was quiet, contemplative. “Sometimes.”

“It must be hard not to be able to do what you love.” She glanced back at him. This was the question that had been begging to be asked since she’d decided to make amends.

“I love football. I’ll always love football,” Travis said matter-of-factly. “But I don’t know if I loved playing it.”

Summer rolled on her side to face him at his unexpected answer. “Seriously? How can that be?”

His jaw tensed before he answered, “I don’t know. Football was always an expectation, not really a dream. Does that make sense?”

Summer had been thinking long and hard about dreams and expectations lately. Dream jobs. Family expectations. “Well, what’s your dream?” she asked, eager to know. Travis shrugged. Discouraged, Summer continued to press him. “There has to be something you’re passionate about.”

“Sure, I’m passionate about a lot of things. There’s this place outside Sweetwater with the best pulled pork sandwiches you’ve ever tasted. And I have a lot of passion for Kenny Chesney. The man can sing a country song better than anyone.”

She smacked his shoulder, causing him to sit up.

“Careful, now, I’m injured, remember?” He rubbed his shoulder as if it needed nursing. Summer knew better than to believe it wasn’t for show.

“Be serious for a minute,” she said, refocusing her attention on the cotton candy clouds. “I asked you once if working at the station was your dream job, and you said you didn’t know. Has that changed?”

She watched his profile as he frowned.

“It’s a job. I can’t afford to be real picky.”

“Why not?” she asked. “The way I see it, you’ve been given a chance to do anything you want with your life. Anything is possible. None of those expectations hold you back anymore. I would think that’d be a pretty exciting position to be in.”

“That’s one way to look at it, I guess,” he said as if he’d never thought of it that way before.

“I noticed yesterday that you take lovely photographs.” She tapped his camera bag with her foot. “I need some images for my daily weather photo segment, and today is perfect for capturing a little piece of the sky.”

“You want me to take pictures for you?”

“Why else would I ask you to bring a camera?”

His eyes shifted to the clouds above them. “Should I be worried about these clouds? Are you setting me up to be rained on?”

“Cumulus clouds don’t carry rain.” She rolled her eyes. “And if it was going to rain, I would have made you bring my umbrella— which you seem to be holding hostage.”

Travis hid his face with his hands. “Let’s add remembering umbrellas to the ever-growing list of things I’m not very good at.”

He was in worse shape than she thought. “Travis...if you want, I can help you with your news reports. You’re a million times better than you were when you started. I wouldn’t have to help very much.” Summer sat up. “But you need to think bigger.”

Moving his hands out of the way, he looked up at her. “Bigger?”

“I think you should give yourself a chance to be more than Travis Lockwood, Football Star.”

“Ex-Football Star,” he corrected, sitting up and taking his camera out of his bag.

He really bought into this idea that all he’d ever be was a broken football player. He seemed to want to be more, he just didn’t realize he already was. She watched him fiddle with his camera and remove the lens cap. “Can I make an observation?”

“Observe away,” he said, as if he didn’t think he could stop her anyway.

“You have an insatiable curiosity. I see that in the pictures you take. I hear it in the questions you ask. Don’t be trapped by your past. Anything is possible. Start dreaming.” She nudged him with her elbow. “What about Travis Lockwood, Lion Tamer?”

The look on his face said she was crazy. “Are we really doing this?”

“Come on,” she encouraged.

Travis shook his head but played along. “I hate cats. Big and small.”