Page 17 of Be My Summer

There were only one of four people I imagined would be calling me.

Jada, my first and favorite cousin.

Joseph, her brother.

Ada, my best friend who was miles and miles away.

My father, who was inside trying to catch his breath.

I retrieved the device that I avoided more often than not. It sped life up so unintentionally, shortened my attention span, and toggled with my peace. I was still trying to determine if I liked or despised the block of despair. Nevertheless, I kept it around so those near my heart wouldn’t worry.

The sight of the four letters on my screen summoned my sanity. I marked my page with the Huffington bookmark I’d been gifted by my father. It was one of the many little things I’d gotten for my birthday that had me brimming with joy. Another were the pair of brown loafers the man calling me had purchased. How he’d guessed my size was beyond me.

Silence allowed me to gather my thoughts. However, the time between me answering the call and his voice lacing the line like words of a romance novel dismantled the parts of me I was able to collect. My composure was lost the second his baritone touched my eardrum.

“Good evening, Summer.”

I tucked my bottom lip between my teeth. The pain of my father’s condition subsided. New feelings overwhelmed me.

“I’ve been having a hard time ridding my thoughts of you,” Saul admitted.

“Why try?”

It was his turn to be quiet. His lack of response led to my continuation.

“I gave up near noon. My day has been much easier since–”

“Is that the cure?”

I nodded as if he could see me. “It seems so.”

“Happy first day of fall, Summer.”

Smiling, I melted into the makeshift mattress again. Softness welcomed me without resistance.

“Happy first day of fall, Saul.”

I wrestled with my thoughts as my nervous system got acquainted with his voice on the line. Closing my eyes, I imagined he was next to me instead of miles and miles away.

“What are you doing?”

“Admiring the afterglow of the sun while getting a few pages read.”

“A few?” He chuckled. “I didn’t take you for a liar, Miss Summer.”

Chuckling, I shook my head. “Okay, I’ve been itching to finish the novel I’m reading.”

“What is it about?”

“Love–” I breathed out.

“Why sound so–defeated?”

“Because reading these novels about these fairy tales make dating real men with real lives and real issues difficult. It almost feels pointless.”

“Maybe until now–”

“Until now?” I questioned.