Mr. Strider walked out of his office, flanked by Mrs. Crawford. The intense glare the principal shot them put an abrupt stop to their laughter.
Dad paced back and forth in front of the couch. “What’s gotten into you lately? I thought you were getting better, then you lie to me, and now you’re fighting at school. It keeps getting worse and worse.”
“She shoved me first, though,” Summer said. “And I would have let it go, but then she said something horrible to Ashlyn. I couldn’t walk away after that.”
“While I understand that made you mad, it’s more than what happened today that has me worried. I know…” He ran a hand over his face and sighed. “I know you’ve got some unresolved issues with your mom’s death still. I thought you’d pulled out of it, but now…Maybe you need to talk to someone. A professional who’d know how to help you better than I can.”
Summer imagined how that would go.
“Please, Dad, don’t make me talk to anyone. I just have a lot of stress right now.”
Dad sat next to her. “You can tell me about it, you know. Give me something, because, honestly, I don’t know what to do with you anymore.”
Summer shook her head, blinking back tears. Where would she even start? Gabriella? Her failure to make peace with Ashlyn and her mom? The recent revelation that she’d delayed Mom enough to get her killed?
Dad leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and hanging his head. “If your mom was here, she’d know what to do.”
Her breath quickened, and then she just blurted it out. “It’s my fault. It’s my fault that Mom’s not here.”
He slowly raised his head and looked at her, his brow furrowed. “Summer, don’t talk like that. You couldn’t have done anything about your mom.”
“I could have, though! I knew something bad was going to happen, and I begged her to stay, but she went anyway. If I would’ve kept her home or let her go, everything would’ve happened differently.” Tears lodged in her throat. “Instead, I kept her just long enough to be in the store with that man. It’s my fault she’s dead.”
Summer winced, waiting for him to storm out, or for him to yell and ask her why she did that. She deserved it.
She deserved a lot more.
“You can drive yourself crazy with the ‘what ifs,’” Dad said, voice calm. “I keep thinking that I shouldn’t have gone out of town that morning. That if I’d decided to stay home instead of attending that training conference, all of us would’ve been doing something together. That maybe I would’ve been there at the store with her so I could’ve saved her or taken her place.” He swallowed thickly. “But it doesn’t change anything. It just hurts more, and I think you’ll agree it hurts enough without adding to it.”
“But, Dad, I knew something bad was going to happen. Sometimes I get these…”
Dad shook his head. “Don’t do that. I don’t want you blaming yourself for the actions of that man. He’s the one who went in with a gun. He’s the one who pulled the trigger.”
“But if I could have stopped her from going, then she wouldn’t have been there.”
“Your mom was very headstrong. Sometimes we’d be in the middle of a conversation or a night out, and she’d have to go somewhere. She said she knew someone needed her help right then and there, and she’d up and leave. Just like that.”
“Did you ever find out where she went? What she was doing?”
Dad looked at Summer for what seemed like forever. “After we’d been dating for several months and were starting to talk about marriage, you mom told me she got very strong feelings, kind of like what you just said, that someone needed her help. At first I joked that she was Superwoman or some other masked avenger. She didn’t laugh, though. Simply asked me to be understanding when she got them, because she had to help, whatever it took. I knew bigger forces than me and her were at work.”
Dad put his hand on Summer’s shoulder, his eyes meeting hers. “I know this might sound crazy to you, but I feel like your mom had a special job to do here. She never said how or who she helped, but she’d come home and tell me that she’d succeeded. Sometimes she’d tell me she was struggling to help somebody. It was like she was a guardian angel to people when they needed one.”
“Not exactly a guardian,” Summer said. “More like a helper.”
“She told you, too?”
Summer shook her head. “Not exactly.” She bit her lip, nervous to hear Dad’s answer, but knowing she needed to ask the question. “You didn’t think she was crazy?”
“Your mom was gifted, not crazy.”
Summer let out the breath she’d been holding, letting what Dad said wash over her. A spark of hope in the dark—a spark she needed so badly she wanted to chase it and cling to it. Gifted. Not crazy. “After everything she did, aren’t you mad a guardian angel didn’t help her when she needed it?”
“I was at first, but I guess after the shock wore off and I had some time to think, I decided she must be needed on the other side more.”
Summer’s heart felt like it wanted to escape from her chest. He didn’t think Mom was crazy. It was time to let him in on what she could. “Dad, I get this strong feeling that Ashlyn needs my help. Please don’t ground me. I’ve got to follow my instincts.”
He pressed his lips together, and she worried she shouldn’t have said anything. “You’ve got to find a better way to help her than getting into fights at school.”
“Okay. Instead of these giant muscles”—she flexed to add to the joke—“I’ll try to use this giant muscle.” She pointed to her head.
“Your brain’s an organ, not a muscle.”
“Aw, Dad. You’d get along with these guys I know. They like to throw out nerdy facts like that, too.”
Dad smiled, but it was only fleeting. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
Summer thought for a moment. “If you could talk Mr. Strider out of my suspension from the dance team, that would make my life at school easier. Kendall’s going to be so angry. State’s only a little over a month away.”
“Sorry, kid. You got yourself into that mess, and you’ll have to find a way out of that one on your own. I won’t ground you, but there are going to be extra chores I’ll expect you to do. Especially once you finish helping Ashlyn.”
Summer supposed that was only fair, even if part of her wanted to argue. “Thanks for understanding.”
“You know you can always talk to me, and as much as I know you’re going to fight it, Tiffany’s a good listener. She knows much more about girls than I ever will.”
“You’re not suggesting I tell her about my…” Summer searched for the right word. “Instincts?”
Dad shook his head. “No, we don’t want her to think you’re crazy.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“You know what I mean. That’s a lot to lay on someone. I’m saying she has experience with relationships. She has four sisters. Think about it.” Dad’s expression turned solemn. “And I don’t want you blaming yourself for what happened to your mom. If she said she had to go, she had to go. It’s not your fault.”
Summer wished that made her feel better. All she could think about was that Mom’s conversation with whoever she helped should’ve taken place in the parking lot, where the gunman wouldn’t have shot her.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Knowing things between her and Troy were going to be weird, Summer waited until last minute to jet into chemistry and take her seat. Mr. Jennings started his lecture, and she had to force herself to keep her eyes glued
