A Girl Named Summer Read online

Page 7


  “Nonsense, child. You’ve got the long legs; you’re thin…Why, you’re the spitting image of what a runner should be.”

  “But…but…”

  “No buts about it. You’ve asked my advice, Summer. Now listen to me. You could do it. Now, don’t shake your head that way. You could do it. But you have to want it bad enough. And you have to work.

  “Most important, you have to want it for you, not for David, not for me…not for anyone but yourself. I’ve never known you to be a quitter before, Summer. It’s a trait the Irish don’t abide.”

  “I’ve never tried anything like this before,” Summer muttered. “I don’t care if I win or not, I just don’t want to look like a complete fool.” There, the truth was out. Summer felt better just saying the words. She was always worried about what other people thought. Was that so terribly wrong? “Grandpa, I wish…”

  “I’m waiting,” her grandfather returned patiently.

  “Maybe I could give it a try.”

  “And I’ll help you,” he replied. “That’s my girl. I knew you had your grandmother’s spunk in you. It was just hidden under a few layers.”

  “Guess I better get started. Only problem is, I don’t know where to begin. I need new running shoes.”

  “You need a training program and a trainer. And you’re in luck, little girl. You’ve got the best. Me!”

  Humility was never one of Grandpa’s strong points. Summer didn’t quite hide her smile. “Then you really will help me?”

  “Don’t need to ask that. Of course I’ll help you. We start tomorrow.” Her grandfather rubbed his hands together and continued. “This afternoon we’ll get you those shoes. I’ll need a few things myself. We’ll stop at the sporting goods store at the mall. Go and get your brother ready. I’ll be up in a few minutes.”

  Summer had to admit that she hadn’t seen her grandfather so excited about a project in a long time. He grinned in gleeful anticipation. He was already getting into the role of a trainer, she thought.

  They had just walked into the house after their shopping jaunt when the phone rang. It was David.

  “Just wondered what you were up to,” he said in that husky voice that made Summer’s stomach flip over.

  “Helping with dinner,” Summer answered. “What are you doing?”

  “Nothing,” David said. “I just got home and no one’s here. They left a note about some cold chicken.”

  “We’re having meatloaf. Not mine. Mom made it.” Summer giggled. “My last meatloaf broke the garbage disposal.”

  “Sure sounds better than cold chicken. I hate cold chicken.” She took the hint and asked David to hold on for a minute. She ran to find her mother in the kitchen and asked her if David could join them for dinner.

  “David, would you like to have dinner with us?” Summer asked breathlessly when she returned to the phone.

  “Is it okay?”

  “Of course. We would love to have you.”

  “Great,” David answered.

  “See you in about an hour.”

  She didn’t wait for his answer. Time was crucial. She had less than sixty minutes to get ready.

  Grandpa’s leprechauns were on Summer’s side. Dinner was calm and orderly. In short, everyone behaved. David helped clear the table and then took Grandpa up on his offer to tour the basement.

  Summer was amazed that she wasn’t the least bit nervous about leaving David with her grandfather—and hadn’t been, not since he had witnessed the runaway vacuum cleaner. Instinct told her that David understood and really cared about the elderly gentleman. It was a nice feeling, not being worried all the time.

  After she finished the dishes, she joined Michael on the bottom basement step and watched while her grandfather showed David a few of his inventions. David seemed mesmerized by the vacuum cleaner, and before long the two were busy taking the unit apart. David had entered Grandpa’s world, and it wasn’t long before Summer realized he had forgotten she was even there. Jealousy reared its nasty head for a moment, but then she reminded herself that he was in her basement and that he was apparently having a good time.

  She dragged a sleepy Michael off to bed, getting through his bath in record time with the promise that she would read some of The Jogging Manual, which her grandfather had purchased today. It would be his bedtime story.

  Michael was asleep within five minutes. The first chapter of the book could have put anyone to sleep, she decided. She went back to the basement steps, book in hand, and started reading again. Chapter five captured her attention, and she began reading in earnest. It was devoted to the marathon runner and kept mentioning the wall that each and every runner encountered at some point. It was an invisible wall, and the description of the body’s reaction was vivid and depressing. Yet, every runner that was quoted promised that once you got past the wall, a fresh spurt of energy mysteriously manufactured itself inside the body. It was all totally foreign to Summer, and she wondered if David had ever experienced such a thing.

  David and Grandpa stopped their work around nine-thirty, and Summer suggested that she and David sit on the porch for a while. She fixed them each a glass of lemonade, and they sat next to each other on the bright green porch swing, sipping their drinks

  He pulled her closer and took hold of her hand. “What are you thinking about?”

  “The wall,” she answered. “The runner’s wall. Have you ever heard of it?”

  “Sure,” he replied. “Happens after the first ten or fifteen miles. You feel like you just ran smack into a cement wall.”

  “Have you? I mean, has it ever happened to you? Do you run that far?”

  “I’ve never run more than eight miles a day, and no, I’ve never experienced the wall. To tell you the truth, it kind of scares me.”

  “I’ve never experienced it either,” she said, and almost laughed out loud with that admission. It was the understatement of the year.

  “Where do you run? I’ve never seen you at the park.”

  “Oh, just around the neighborhood,” she said. It was getting harder and harder to look at him when she lied. She felt as if she were about to grow a very long nose, just like in the fairy tale.

  “You should try running in the park. It’s exactly two miles to the gate and back, and the jogger’s path is easy on your feet.”

  “When do you run?” she asked.

  “After my morning lessons. My favorite time is around dinner, though. Before I eat of course. It’s nice with the sun going down and all.” He seemed a little uneasy with his observation.

  “There’s a bit of an artist’s appreciation in you,” Summer teased.

  “Guess so,” he answered with a grin. “If it’s okay with you, I’m coming over tomorrow after dinner to help your grandfather. We think we’ve figured out what’s wrong with the vacuum.”

  “Come for dinner,” Summer suggested. She knew her mother wouldn’t mind. Her parents might not understand how much she wanted to work at the Pizza Paddle with Regina, but they were more than generous with dinner invitations. Her friends were always welcome.

  “If you’re sure it’s all right,” he answered.

  Summer nodded.

  “I better get going.” He gave Summer a quick kiss and then stood up. Placing their glasses on the railing, he turned to her and pulled her into his arms. “Thanks for tonight,” he said, hugging her. “I like being here.”

  She felt herself blush and smiled. Try as she might, she couldn’t seem to think of a suitable reply.

  “How about going to bingo together Monday night? Think your grandfather would ride with me instead of walking?”

  “I’m sure he would,” she answered. “I’ll call you tomorrow.” He leaned down and kissed her again, and she wrapped her arms around his waist, enthusiastically hugging him.

  He gave her a sexy wink and started down the steps. “Good night…Rosebud.” He chuckled all the way to the car.

  She waited until the car pulled away before confronting her
family. “Okay,” she snapped like a drill sergeant when she found her grandfather and parents in the kitchen, “who told David my nickname was Rosebud?”

  Chapter 9

  “I think I’m in love, Regina. Really, really in love.” Summer was sitting on the edge of her bed, lacing her new running shoes while she spoke. Her friend was sprawled across the middle of the bed, listening to Summer’s every word while she ate a chocolate chip cookie.

  “How can you be sure? What are the symptoms?” she asked. “I don’t think I’ve ever been in love.”

  “When David and I are together, I get all…” She groped for the words to describe how she was feeling.

  “What?”

  “I can’t explain it. Last night David ate dinner with us, and I ate a huge helping of beets before I remembered that I hate them. It’s scary, Regina. All I can think about is David, what he’s doing, what he’s thinking. And when I’m with him, I feel so…complete. I’m not making sense, am I?”

  “No,” she answered. “But I think not making sense is all part of the package when you’re in love. Do you think I’ll ever fall in love?”

  “Of course.” Summer stood up and examined herself in the mirror. She was wearing a pair of faded cutoffs and a tank top. “I don’t look like a runner, do I?”

  “No, but I think I know what’s missing,” Regina replied. “You need a cap.”

  Summer laughed and immediately opened the top drawer of her bureau. Her hair was pulled back, and she carefully adjusted the ball cap into position. “Grandpa thought of everything,” Summer said with a giggle. “I’ve got five of these, all different colors.”

  “You look like a runner now. Come on, it’s time to begin,” Regina said. “I’m going to ride my bike next to you and cheer you on.”

  It sounded so fun and so simple. Halfway around the park Summer had a whole new appreciation for the runners of the world. They were all crazy!

  “My side,” she panted. “Regina, has my left side fallen off?”

  “No. You’re doing fine. Ignore the pain.”

  “That’s easy for you to say, perched up there on your ten-speed. I’m dying and you tell me to ignore the pain. Sadist.”

  Summer ran a total of one and a half miles before her legs turned into rubber and she collapsed. Regina, bless her heart, didn’t laugh. She helped Summer home but couldn’t get her any further than the swing on the front porch.

  “Now you’re a real runner, Summer. You’re all sweaty.”

  “If that was meant as a compliment, you can forget it.”

  “How did it go, girls?” Grandpa’s smiling face peeked around the screen door. Summer’s groan brought a chuckle. He came to sit beside her and gently patted her hand. “Never said it would be easy, honey. How far did you get? The corner?”

  “A mile and a half,” Regina answered. “I kind of clocked her. She’s real slow and her pace is sporadic, but it was a good start all the same, don’t you think?”

  “Mile and a half, you say?” Grandpa rubbed his chin. “Why, that’s a mighty good start. Now you have to add a quarter of a mile every other day as I see it.” He drummed his fingertips on the railing in an absentminded manner and then added, “Yep, quarter mile every other day and you’ll be up to eight miles in no time.”

  It would have taken too much effort to yell or scream. The two of them were discussing her as though she were a contender for the Kentucky Derby.

  “No way,” Summer muttered. “I’m going to be dead in a matter of minutes, so don’t make too many plans for me. The spirit is willing, but the flesh is a mess.”

  “Going to get worse before it gets better,” her grandfather predicted with a hint of smugness. “Come morning and you’ll be as stiff as your mother’s ironing board. Got some liniment for you, and the sooner you get some of those aching muscles soothed, the better.”

  “Just like a horse,” Summer said. “Except I don’t feel like an expensive quarter horse now. More like a swaybacked old nag.”

  “Go and soak in the tub,” Regina suggested, “while your grandfather and I discuss your training schedule.”

  The hot bathwater soothed Summer’s screaming muscles, but nothing could calm her shattered thoughts. It was all so hopeless. Defeat enveloped her just as the bubbles in her bath had, and salty tears began to roll down her cheeks.

  She was going to lose David. Summer was sure of that, and not because she couldn’t make it as a runner, but because she had lied to him. What kind of meaningful relationship could she hope for, based on deceit? It was too late to explain the entire situation to him. She had told too many fibs now. I’ve learned my lesson well, she thought. Never, never would she try to be something she wasn’t. No matter what. Take me as I am, David Marshall, or not at all. Not at all! That was what was going to happen as soon as he found out the truth. Summer visualized his expression when he learned she had deceived him. Then she pictured Ann Logan telling him, and that did the trick. “No way,” she snapped. “Grandpa is right. I can do it! No,” she corrected, “I have to do it.” She grimaced as she gingerly lifted one leg out of the water. “Legs, you’ve won this battle, but I will win the war.” It was a vow she would repeat again and again.

  Morning brought a fresh wave of pain. Grandpa appeared at her bedroom door with the first light of dawn and announced that it was time to get up.

  “It’s only six o’clock,” Summer squealed when she was able to focus on the digital clock.

  “Best time of day,” her grandfather insisted. “Now, get dressed and meet me in the basement. I’ve got a little surprise for you.”

  It was useless to argue. She wanted it all to be just a bad dream, but her grandfather was serious. The gray sweat suit he was wearing was ample testimony to that fact.

  She was in a foul mood by the time she’d dressed and stumbled down the basement steps.

  The surprise turned out to be a new exercise mat placed in the center of the room. “This is where you can do your limbering-up exercises before you run. You can hurt yourself if you don’t stretch those muscles a bit. Can’t start running right off.”

  Now he tells me, Summer thought.

  “Look at the pictures in this exercise book. See? Now, I want you to do these five exercises.”

  Summer knew better than to argue. Her grandfather was far more stubborn than she was, and had a temper early in the morning that rivaled a number eight on the Richter scale. She decided to give in now because he would get his way eventually.

  Better to get it over with. Summer forced herself not to gag when she opened the bottle of liniment her grandfather handed her, but the aroma was enough to knock her off her feet. She applied a liberal amount to her legs before she started the exercises. Her grandfather sat on his workbench, a stopwatch in his hand, and a whistle tied to a shoestring around his neck.

  With each leg lift, Summer’s mind screamed the words I hate this. It might have been childish, but it did take her mind off her protesting muscles.

  Twenty minutes later, she had to admit that she did feel a little more limber. Grandpa shouted words of encouragement when he pushed her out the front door. “Remember, at least one mile and a half today, and a tad more if you’re up to it.”

  She didn’t experience the wall that she had read about, but by the time she staggered into her house, she felt as if she had been run over by a very large truck.

  If only she could quit, or break a leg—anything to get out of this mess. She didn’t believe for one minute her grandfather’s promise that it would get easier. It had to be a myth. Anyone who actually enjoyed running just wasn’t playing with a full deck. Except David, of course. He was the exception. Besides, everyone was allowed to have at least two faults, and David’s weren’t so terribly bad. So what if he liked running and telling bad jokes? He was entitled.

  Chapter 10

  The next two weeks flew by. Each and every morning, no matter how late Summer went to bed, Grandpa appeared at her door at six sharp. She exp
erienced a full range of reactions to the early morning ritual, from outright hatred to benign acceptance. One morning it dawned on her that her grandfather also was making a sacrifice by getting up so early. And he always had a word of encouragement for her, no matter how grumpy she was. “Your cup is always half empty, Summer. Think of it in terms of being half full.”

  She thought about that old saying long and hard on her run. She was up to three and a half miles now. She noticed that the awful pain in her side had finally disappeared, and that her pace seemed to even out.

  Mrs. Hobard, a spry sixty-five-year-old jogger, was still passing her, but the gap was closing. The gray-haired lady had confided that although she had more experience and had been jogging for ten years, Summer had the advantage of youth on her side. She, too, promised running would get easier.

  Another week passed and an even more amazing thing happened. Summer, though she would have died before she admitted it to her family, was actually beginning to enjoy her runs. Feelings of well-being and confidence were growing inside her. It was as if she was becoming in tune with her body, pushing it to a healthy limit.

  In fact, her entire outlook began to change. The time spent running became her special time. She no longer thought about the discomfort but concentrated on the issues that were bothering her. Her views began to change, too. She began to see her family not as a zoo but as loving individuals. The notion that she was part of a very special family began to make a little sense. They could still embarrass her at times, but that thought didn’t bring chills to her insides the way it used to.

  One morning a boy by the name of Luke paced alongside Summer and chatted with her a few minutes. She had noticed him a couple of times before, but thought that he was older…too old for Regina. When he mentioned that he was a transfer student and would be a senior next year at her high school, Summer’s radar picked up. Not only was Luke a nice-looking boy, but he also fit the most important requirement. He was tall. She would do a good turn for her friend and introduce her to Luke, and she would enjoy a little friendly revenge on Carl Benson at the same time. How sweet it would be, Summer thought as she raced home.