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“Six weeks? How do you know that?”
“I’ve been counting. Did I do something wrong, Daddy?”
“Oh no! Not at all.”
“Then why did she go away?”
I do not know how to answer that without giving myself away.
“She just had to go away for a little while, dear. But I’m sure daddy will talk to her and she will come back when her vacation is over. Right, Daddy?” Sylvia looks at me with fire in her eyes and raised brows.
“I’ll talk to her.”
“Thank you, Daddy. When you talk with her, tell her I miss her. And moogie misses her too. And we want her back.”
“I will. Excuse me.”
I hightail it out of the room and head upstairs. My excuse is I need to relax a bit before heading out to the club, but I just can’t deal with this conversation right now.
As I watch the dance floor, I remember six weeks ago. Ryan had not needed to remind me how long it has been. I was just shocked that he knew. There is not a day that goes by that I do not miss her. And the more time passes, the greater the need to see her and talk to her. I don’t even care that she might be seeing someone else. Every day with Ryan tells me that she was right. At the very least, I owe her an apology.
I sleep in on Saturday morning and swim with Ryan in the afternoon. When Sylvia takes him upstairs after dinner, I sit by the pool thinking. An idea forms in my mind and before I can dismiss it, I make a phone call. It is a step in the right direction. And a risk.
I leave home just after dark and much earlier than usual. I turn the car in the opposite direction. I make one quick stop before continuing my journey. When I pull up in front of Summer’s house, I sit for a few minutes. The lights are on and her car is in the driveway. I gather my peace offerings and walk up to her door.
Her muted response when I ring the bell sends a rush through me. I feel like a man dying of thirst finally getting a sip of water. She opens the door and I see the shock on her face. I clear my throat.
“May I come in?”
“I-I, um—“
“Unless you have company. I wouldn’t want to interrupt you and your guest.”
“I’m alone. It’s just that I’m not feeling very well.”
“I won’t stay very long.”
“Look, if you’re here to berate me some more, please just go.”
“It’s not that. I promise. Just… please.”
“Okay.”
She steps aside and I walk into the living room. I turn to watch as she closes the door. She is wearing a pair of cut-offs and an oversized sweatshirt. Her hair is slightly damp as though she has just come from the shower. Her face is free of make-up and her feet are bare. Her eyes look a little puffy and the tip of her nose is red. She has never looked more beautiful to me in all my life. She stares at me and lose myself in her eyes.
“These are for you.” I hold out the bag with a bottle of wine and a book. She takes it from me and her eyebrows go up.
“I noticed you have most of the series and didn’t have that one.”
“That’s very observant of you.” I watch her put the wine on the coffee table before walking over to the bookshelf. She skims through herAnne of Green Gablesshelf and places the book in a slot. She picks up the wine and heads to the kitchen. I follow and sit on a stool at the peninsula.
“Would you like a drink? Water? Juice?”
“Juice will be fine.”
“Okay.”
I watch as she pours a glass and places it on the counter. She leans against the cupboards with her head down.
