What a Girl Wants. Amy Vastine

the Babylonians had genetically that we don’t and you’re out here trying to sneak away without saying good-night,” he said.

      “Good night, Travis.” She pulled her keys out and held them up, victorious.

      “You hate me so much you won’t even tell me, huh?”

      Summer exhaled loudly. “I don’t hate you. My grandma taught me hating someone is nothing but a big waste of time. Time that could be spent planting a garden or cleaning my room.”

      “I think your grandma was trying to get you to do your chores.”

      One side of her mouth quirked up as she headed for the parking lot. “Probably. She’s tricky like that.”

      Travis followed. “You’re killing me here. Why won’t you tell me?”

      “What do you want from me, exactly?”

      Travis sighed and decided to be totally honest with her. “Someone to talk to who doesn’t want to rehash every play I ever made on the football field. Someone who won’t sit across from me hoping I’m going to take her home or kiss her good-night.”

      “Don’t ever try to kiss me.” The fierceness in her voice left no room for doubt. “That will get you a slap across the face, mister.”

      He held his hands up in surrender. “No kissing. Yes, ma’am. But I really do want to know about the Babylonians.”

      She clicked the button to unlock her car and pulled the door open. “I think the Babylonians could feel the rain coming like I do. My dad told me once that humans probably evolved so that we didn’t need to be that sensitive to certain things. We had better shelter, tracked seasons formally, developed tools like barometers and Doppler radar. We didn’t need to feel it anymore. Maybe I’m the last of the supersensitive humans.”

      When she talked about the weather, she came to life. There was something about the look in her eye when she shared that kind of information. It was a spark that flashed inside her, a light that he wanted to make brighter. “I think I get it. I might need you to be my date to the next Rotary meeting to explain it to them, though.”

      Summer flushed. “Did you know that we’ve been experiencing above-average temps for the last forty days in a row?”

      “It’s definitely hot around here. Not as hot as that place in Libya you were talking about, but still very hot.”

      She stared at him for a minute and he worried he hadn’t gotten the country right. He could have sworn she said Libya.

      Climbing into her car, she gave him one more curious look. “Good night, Travis.”

      “Good night, Summer.” He watched her drive away. She didn’t hate him. She didn’t like him, either, but maybe she was coming close to tolerating him.

      CHAPTER FIVE

      SUMMER KNEW THINGS weren’t going to go the way she wanted this week. It was destined to be a terrible, no good week. Between the changes at work and the date on the calendar, there was no way she was going to come out unscathed. Mimi stopped getting out of bed starting on Wednesday. Claimed to be feeling under the weather. A broken heart was not an ailment you could fix by picking something up at the drugstore, so Summer tried all her other tricks. She came over to help plant some bulbs for next spring, offered to paint the powder room Mimi had been complaining about a couple weeks ago, even asked for a cooking lesson. Nothing Summer did raised Mimi’s spirits much. By Saturday, Big D had given up trying and told Summer she should do the same. He figured she’d get out of bed on Sunday, no point in pushing her any more than they already had.

      Sunday was the tenth anniversary of her parents’ deaths and they always went to the cemetery for a small memorial. Mimi and Big D visited throughout the year, but the anniversary was the only time Summer went. It bugged her a little that her parents were buried in Texas. She imagined two free spirits like them would have wanted their ashes spread out over the sea, where their remains would continue the journey around the world for the rest of time.

      Of course, they hadn’t been expecting to die so young, and there was no will, no burial wishes written down. Mimi wanted them close and Summer’s other grandparents were out of the picture. They had basically disowned their Miss Georgia Peach daughter when she’d come home from college telling them she’d met a boy who wanted her to chase dangerous storms with him all across the country.

      Despite Big D’s advice, Summer showed up at her grandparents’ on Saturday anyway. It was better than sitting at home, wondering why Travis Lockwood cared so much about what she thought, or what Ryan was going to tell her when he showed up in Abilene tomorrow. She kissed her grandfather hello and made sure he had lunch before knocking on the bedroom door.

      “Can I come in?” Summer asked, pushing the door open a crack. The room was dark, the shades pulled down and the curtains drawn.

      “I’m not feelin’ well. You might want to keep your distance,” Mimi said softly.

      Couldn’t catch a broken heart, either, so Summer stepped inside. Mimi looked so small, all curled up on her bed under the quilt she’d stitched with her own hands. She had her back to the door and didn’t move when Summer’s footsteps made the wood floors creak. Summer ran her hand over one of the clusters of quilted stars. Mimi often joked she didn’t need to camp; she slept under the stars every night. She had sewn one with a similar Seven Sisters pattern for Summer when she moved out.

      Without asking, Summer climbed into the bed and wrapped herself around her grandmother from behind. She pressed her cheek against the back of Mimi’s shoulder. “Did you now that when lightning strikes sandy soil, this kind of glass forms? People have actually found tubes of glass in the sand after thunderstorms.”

      “Lightning glass, huh?” the old woman replied.

      “Yep. Kinda looks like a charred, hollow tree branch. I want some.”

      “Touchable lightning.”

      Summer smiled. “I knew you’d know why I thought it was cool. Being able to hold lightning in your hand? I’d feel like Zeus.”

      “Touch all the lightning glass you want, but stay away from the electrical kind, please.” Mimi gave Summer’s hand a pat.

      “Yes, ma’am.” They lay together in the dark and quiet, giving and taking comfort that couldn’t be expressed any other way. “Want to come to the store with me to pick up what we need for lunch tomorrow? Ryan texted me. He said he and Kelly would be here when we get done with church.”

      “It’s a testament to the kind of people your parents were, him coming here every year to remember them. He’s never stopped being your daddy’s best friend.”

      Summer squeezed her grandmother tightly. “Daddy had the best of everything. The best friends, the best wife, the best parents.”

      Mimi sniffled. “The best daughter,” she added.

      A few more minutes passed in silence. Sometimes Mimi came out from under the dark clouds on her own. Other times she needed Summer to show her the way. Summer rolled off the bed and went to the windows, throwing open the curtains. “Come to the store with me.”

      Mimi didn’t argue or make excuses. Without any fuss, she sat up and hooked her legs over the side of the bed. As she ran her fingers through the tangles in her long blond hair, her all-cried-out eyes looked over at Summer. “I thank the good Lord every day that you weren’t in the car that night.”

      Summer’s parents had traveled with her all over North America when she was a child. They were the ones running toward a storm when everyone else was running away. They were scientists and adventurers who lived every day to the fullest, and woke up every morning with the purpose of discovering something new. It seemed like some sort of sad joke that two people who chased deadly storms would be done in by a drunk driver on the way home from their anniversary dinner, but that was the reality. One simple date night ended in a horrific tragedy