Page 47 of No More Secrets
Phoebe, having the hearing of a mother of three boys, snuck up next to him and kissed him on the cheek. “That’s my favorite son.”
Summer wandered further across the lawn to the edge of the shadows where grass met field. Here she could watch the happenings. Her throat was tight and her heart full.
Community.
That is what she had been missing. With the article and possibly even beyond the words she had been searching for.
There were no strangers here. Only neighbors helping neighbors and having a damn good time doing it.
On impulse, she pulled out her phone and dialed.
Her mother answered cheerfully. “Hello?”
“Hi, Mom.”
Annette Lentz’s voice brightened. “Summer! I didn’t have my reading glasses on. I couldn’t see who was calling.”
“How’s Alaska?”
“Breathtaking,” she sighed. “Your father had me up at six this morning to catch a sunrise flight with the bush pilot he’s interviewing.”
“How is Dad?” Summer asked, already feeling the slick mix of guilt and anger churn in her stomach.
“Oh, you know your father,” she said lamely.
Summer certainly did.
“Now, where are you? I see on your blog that you’re on a farm somewhere?”
At least one of her parents was interested enough to follow what she was doing. “I’m on an assignment for the magazine. It’s a piece on an organic family farm upstate.”
“That farmer doesn’t look like any of the ones I grew up around,” her mom teased. Annette had grown up in a small Pennsylvania farming community north of Philadelphia.
“He isn’t like anything I imagined,” Summer confessed.
Her mother must have detected something in her tone. “Are you seeing anyone?”
“I don’t really have time, Mom. Work has been so busy.”
“Work, work, work. You’re so much like your father.”
The words were both balm and burn.
“Well, you eventually wore him down and got him to take a good look at you,” Summer reminded her. “Maybe someday someone will wear me down, too.” Her parents, both career-oriented professionals, hadn’t met and married until their mid-thirties.
“Darling, as long as you’re happy. That’s all I want. I don’t care what it looks like. Just be happy.”
Summer smiled. “I will do my very best.”
“Good girl. Now, do you want to talk to your father?”
Summer’s stomach plunged. She wanted to say no. She wanted to end the call on a high note. She was tired of trying. Tired of disappointing.
“Oh, he must have just ducked out. Phil!” Annette yelled for her husband.
“Don’t bother him, Mom,” Summer insisted. She imagined her father had left the room the second he heard Annette offer him up for a conversation. Maybe he was tired of the disappointment, too.
“Well, I’d better go,” Summer said with forced brightness.
