Page 76 of No Place Like Home
“What do you know?” Kaye asked as she grabbed two drinks from the fridge and handed me one.
I opened it and took a deep drink, then picked at the label. I didn’t know how much I should say to Kaye. Did she know anything about Summer? If she didn’t and I said something, I would be crossing a line. Knowing Summer as well as I did and how private she was, I knew I would have a difficult time getting back on Summer’s good side if I let something slip that I shouldn’t.
Kaye must have known why I hesitated, because she said, “She told me about what happened after the wedding, and she told me why she felt she needed to say that to you.”
I glanced at her. My heart skipped a beat.
“She cares a lot for you, Rowan, but she doesn’t want to make a decision that would keep you from being able to be a father.”
I nodded. “Darlene told me everything and that’s what she said also.” Irritation flooded through my veins. “But Summer doesn’t have the right to make that decision for me.”
At that time Diane came into the kitchen. “Your mom and Mrs. Ledbetter went next door to the coffee shop,” she said as she sat at the table and gestured for me to join her.
I glanced at Kaye, who nodded and sat at the adjacent chair to Diane. Not seeing another choice, I joined them.
Once I was seated, Diane continued. “Rowan, I know Summer’s action hurt you, but I understand where Summer’s coming from. When I met Tom, I was in the same headspace she’s in. I never wanted a long-term relationship because I couldn’t have children. I didn’t want to put any man who was strong enough to love me in that position.” She intertwined her fingers on the table and leaned toward me. “It’s hard enough when you’re faced with that kind of news. It’s harder to have someone you care about have to live childless. I felt guilty, and, like Summer, fought my feelings for Tom. But he didn’t care. He loved me more than he wanted another child. Now, of course, he had Leila, though we never saw her. I don’t know if you know this—we kept it away from you kids—but we tried to adopt, tried IVF, but in the end, we loved each other enough to be just the two of us.”
She sat up tall. “Rowan, you need to make sure you love Summer that much. If you can see yourself with just her and no children, go to her and see what can happen. But make sure. It’s a long life to live without a child. Trust me, I lived it.”
I always saw Diane and Tom as my extended family. Tom would go camping with my dad and us boys, and Lance, every summer. Then when Kaye met Charles, he became part of the group. Diane and Tom’s childlessness never seemed strange to me. It was just who they were, and they treated all of us as their own. “Y’all, I don’t know what I see in my future with Summer, but—” Justthen the back door opened, and Summer came in with a drink in her hand. She froze when she saw me sitting there.
Kaye and Diane rose.
“I’ve got one more appointment coming in soon,” Diane said.
“Me too,” Kaye agreed as she followed behind Diane. And, just like that, I was alone with Summer.
She finally unfroze from her shock at seeing me and walked into the back office. I followed. “Rowan, what are you doing here? I thought you had an interview to get to.”
“I did, but I came to find you. I couldn’t leave without talking to you.”
She placed her purse in a desk drawer and her drink on top, shook her head, and spoke without turning around. “I told you there was nothing to say.” She paused. “I don’t feel the same way about you.”
Her voice was Summer-strong, yet I detected a slight waver to her words.
That waver gave me courage. “I don’t believe you. I know why you’re separating us. Darlene told me.”
She whipped around. Anger flashed from her eyes.
The corners of my mouth ticked up. That was the Summer-attitude I loved.
“What the hell do you mean Darlene told you?” she asked. “What do you think you know?” Anger flashed across her face, and she threw her shoulders back. She was ready for a fight, so I backed off. I needed to give her enough space to not feel suffocated.
Instead, I held my hands up, palms out, and said, “I know you’re making decisions for me because you care.” I watched her face, and the anger subsided just a little. That increased my courage, so I took a slow, cautious step toward her. “I know you wantme to have a life with children—but, Summer, I’m not thinking of that right now. I’m thinking of you and me.”
“Exactly,” she spat, her eyes wide. “You’re thinking of me right now. But what happens if we start a relationship and things go well, we want more and we take that step, then one day you wake up and realize that’s as far as we can go? You want kids, butI . . . can’t . . . give them . . . to you.” Her voice cracked, and she covered her mouth with her hands.
I took a step closer, but she stepped back and shook her head as a sob escaped from her throat.
She leaned against the desk and brushed her hands over her face, then lowered them when she’d regained her composure. Her voice was softer when she finally spoke again. “I couldn’t live with the guilt of putting you through that, and if you decided to leave, then . . .” Her words trailed off and tears fell down her cheeks.
I closed the space between us before she could stop me, and pulled her to my chest. I held her tight and kissed the top of her head. She didn’t cry hard, but I could tell tears fell. I closed my eyes tight and took in a deep breath, Summer’s scent wafting through my nostrils. The scent that would always remind me of that summer’s day at the river.
When she sniffed and lifted her head, I loosened my grip on her and pulled away enough that our eyes met. “Don’t you ever decide how I live,” I said with a soft voice. My eyes wandered around her face, now wet with tears. I rubbed my thumbs under her eyes and held my hands at the side of her face. “If I choose you, I choose you because I love you. I love you, Summer. And if we work out and get married and can’t have children of our own, I don’t care. Being with you is enough. It will always be enough.”
She tried to wiggle free.
“Stop, Summer. Dammit.” My voice rose as frustration sliced through me. “Do you really think I’d leave you because of that? Do you think I’m as low as your father? Really?” Anger fueled my words. I was tired of this. I was tired of her bringing everything back to that asshole—and then comparing me to him.
