One More Summer Read online

  “Levi meant everything to me,” I confess. “I’m not going to lie. It doesn’t change the fact that we were kids. The memories are wonderful. We were young and there’s nothing to compare to first love. You never forget it. Or your first kiss.”

  “See! Admit it! You were in love.”

  “Madly.” I smile at the thought. “I still remember the first time I saw him. I was sitting in Mrs. White’s math class in fifth grade. My family had just moved to Monroe, so I was feeling awkward and shy, not knowing anyone. Levi walked into the classroom and plopped down in the seat across the row from me. He was all big smiles and full of energy. When Mrs. White went up to the blackboard and turned her back, he leaned over and slipped me a forbidden stick of gum. From then on, the two of us were inseparable.”

  I lift my wine glass and take a small sip.

  “Luckily my family’s farm backed up to his,” I continue. “Every afternoon after school, we would meet under a big pecan tree at the boundary of our properties to decide what mischief we should get into. Levi never ran out of ideas. Those were the best days of my life. Levi was my everything.”

  I try not to become a little sad for a time that I can’t get back.

  “Aw…,” Taylor sticks out her bottom lip and frowns. “It’s so sad it ended between you two. How does he look now? Is he as handsome as he is in the magazines?”

  “Better. I always thought he was the most handsome guy I’d ever seen. Believe it or not, he’s even sexier now. His eyes still have that devilish spark in them. When he smiles, it’s still kind of boyish and sexy. He’s also matured a lot. His body is more defined now, with big muscled arms from working out. There’s a couple of new tattoos on his arms I haven’t seen before too.”

  “Wow,” she says, letting out a wistful breath. “You’re so lucky, Annie.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’ll be with Levi Hamby. Women would kill to be in your position.”

  “Where’d you get that idea from? Yeah, I saw him. Big deal. It doesn’t mean anything will come of it.” I shrug nonchalantly. “I probably won’t see him again while he’s here. I bet he’s going to have people all over him the whole time. Or maybe he’ll try to avoid the crowds and stay isolated out at the farm with his family. Either way, I doubt our paths will cross again.”

  “You’re such a cynic,” she says. “You were crazy in love once. Why couldn’t it happen again? Give me one good reason.”

  I try not to show how the thought sends my heart racing.

  “What would he see in me now? He could have any woman he wants. Even models or movie stars. I know he dates a few of them. I’ve seen the photos in tabloid magazines at the grocery store checkout line.”

  “But what if he wants you instead?”

  I let out a long sigh and finish my wine.

  “Then it would only be a couple of one-night stands. Honestly, it would probably cheapen what we had. When he left, I would feel different about him the second time around. I don’t want to go that route.”

  “I’d let Levi Hamby cheapen me any time he wants to,” she says. “I wouldn’t even argue about it.”

  I snort with laughter. “Not me. What we had was something close to perfect. I don’t see how it could ever be the same again. It’s probably best to keep the time we had as a special memory, nothing more. Some things are best to be kept in the past.”

  “Well if you ask me, you and your ‘special memories’ are going to die alone,” she says. “Just remember that when you turn him down. You’ll regret it if you do.”

  “Taylor! That’s mean!”

  She starts laughing, and I know her insults are only joking, but there’s still some truth in her words.

  “Seriously, Annie, who have you been out with in the last seven years? Either you’ve been pining for Levi this whole time, or you’ve become a closet lesbian. You could have dated a million other guys during this time, and you haven’t. Then as soon as Levi shows up again, you’re running in here as excited as if he’d just proposed. You still have unresolved feelings for him. You can’t deny it. Why try? I’m your best friend and I know you well.”

  “I’m just saying that it’s impossible for anything to happen between us. He’s a huge star in Nashville, going on tours all over the country, and I’m just regular, boring me.”

  “You were enough for him before. Don’t let yourself get blinded by all the press and fans. I’m sure Levi is still the same guy deep down. Everything else is just unimportant fuzzballs, as my grandmother used to say.”

  “His insane stardom and groupies are just ‘fuzzballs?’”

  “They are,” she says. “If he was that unreachable, would he be back home in the first place? Levi still cares about his family, and I’d bet anything that he still cares about you. You’ll see. Just keep an open mind and give it a chance.”

  I don’t say anything. I’m not sure how I feel about Levi Hamby. Seeing him was a shock to my system.

  She’s right about one thing. No man has ever come close to making me feel the way Levi did when we were young.

  I loved him with everything I had in me. Maybe I’ve put him on a pedestal, and whatever we once had will only ever be a fond memory.

  Or, maybe I should take her advice and let myself hold onto that tiny little hope that the man I fell in love with might still have special feelings for me, too.

  “I promise to keep an open mind,” I say. “And that’s all for the time being.”

  Taylor grins back at me.

  “This is going to be one hell of a hot summer.”

  11

  Levi

  I wake up in the small double-size bed in the farmhouse’s loft bedroom and stay perfectly still. It takes me a minute to remember where I am. The loudmouth crowing rooster sitting on the tin roof right outside my window is the first clue I’m back on the farm.

  When I was touring, I learned to sleep anywhere in all kinds of conditions. The tour bus, couches in cluttered offices, generic hotel rooms. The days and nights ran together in an endless blur. A peaceful night’s sleep was a rarity.

  It feels damn good to be awakened by the sounds of my old home.

  I open my eyes to see the hand-carved posts of the four-poster bed from my childhood. Through the slightly open window, the breeze carries in the smell of freshly cut hay from the big field behind the house. The sound of sizzling bacon drifts up from the kitchen downstairs.

  The country life has its benefits for sure. I stretch my arms above my head and yawn.

  I could have slept for days.

  Rolling onto my side, I notice my cellphone is flashing furiously. I groan, then reach for it. Scrolling down the screen, I count the notifications.

  Twenty-one missed calls. Eight messages. Six voicemails.

  Jesus, Harry.

  I listen to the first voicemail wearily, still rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. Harry’s irritated voice snaps on the line.

  “Answer my calls, dammit! The big shots over at the record label have a shitload of questions about your sudden disappearance, and we need to do some fast damage control. What am I supposed to be telling these people? You can’t just drop off the face of the earth and not return my phone calls.”

  I cut off the voicemail, mumbling under my breath, “Tell them to kiss my ass.”

  I don’t bother listening to his other calls, knowing they’ll all say the same thing, with him getting louder and angrier each time. I’ve only been gone a day.

  How am I going to get through two months of constant phone calls?

  I cut short the next part of my regular morning routine, which is to scroll through my social media pages. Many people have advised me not to do that because the internet has no filter, and you never know what you’ll read about yourself.

  I’ve never been able to stay away, though, especially when there’s something going on. It’s not vanity but panic that drives me to check what rumors are floating around about me.

  Now that I’v
e temporarily disappeared, there’s no telling what my fans are saying. I read the first comment on my page.

  I’ve heard Levi Hamby has canceled his next four shows. What’s so important that one man thinks he has the right to let down thousands of fans?

  I blow out a heavy breath and place my phone face-down on the bed. I bury my head briefly in my hands. Damn! I can’t help feeling guilty about cancelling shows and letting my fans down. No matter what I do, there’s always someone getting pissed at me.

  On one hand, I have thousands of fans who’ve spent money buying tickets or were attending my concert in celebration of something special that I’ve now abandoned.

  On the other hand, Cole has spent months trying to get me to come home because our father’s condition is deteriorating.

  I can’t win in this situation.

  I’m sure the rumors about me are spreading like wildfire. My disappearing act might do real damage to the career I’ve worked so hard to build.

  And there’s not a damn thing I can do about it. My family comes first and from the delicious smell wafting up the stairs, bacon is cooking downstairs.

  I can’t remember the last time I had a full country breakfast of biscuits and gravy, bacon or sausage, fried eggs over-easy, and a strong black cup of coffee.

  Every time I tried to order it for breakfast on the tour, someone would be quick to remind me that a protein shake or smoothie would be much better for my energy and health.

  Screw that shit.

  Sometimes a man just needs to eat what they want. It’s already getting old having people tell me what I’m supposed to be doing or not doing every hour of the day.

  I head downstairs to find Cole running around after Lily while the bacon sizzles in the pan. It’s starting to smoke and about to burn.

  He glances up when I enter. “Good afternoon, sleepyhead.”

  “It’s nine am,” I point out, waving a hand at the grandfather clock in the corner.

  “Yep,” he says. “A full four hours since I got up. I’ve done half a day’s work already. It might as well be the afternoon.”

  I cross the kitchen over to the frying pan and pick up a fork to turn the bacon before it burns to a charred crisp. Quickly, I turn down the heat while watching Cole struggle with Lily. He’s trying to put her foot into a pair of shoes.

  “I don’t like these shoes,” she says, trying to tear away from him as he calmly tries to slide her foot into them.

  “You’re the one who picked them out,” he argues. “Stop squirming or you’ll be late for preschool.”

  The bacon’s ready. I turn it out onto a plate, then hover around Cole, ready to help, but not sure how.

  Lily has her shoes on now and is running back into the living room to search for a book she forgot to pack up into her backpack. She can’t find it.

  “I’ll get in trouble with the teacher,” she says, almost in tears.

  “Hang on,” Cole tells her. “I’ll help you find it. Don’t worry.”

  Cole gives me a frazzled look over his shoulder. “Any chance you can put that bacon inside a couple of biscuits for us? We’re running late as usual. Lily will need to eat breakfast in the car.”

  “I’m on it,” I say, relieved to be able to help in a small way.

  I cut open the homemade biscuits that Cole must’ve gotten up in the middle of the night to cook. My appreciation for my brother is growing by the day. I butter both sides and load three pieces of bacon into each one.

  Cole grabs the first biscuit and wraps it up in a paper towel to give to Lily in the car. Then, he grabs another one for Dad. He places it in front of him on the kitchen table and urges him to eat.

  “Here’s your breakfast, Dad.”

  “I’m not hungry,” Dad replies.

  Cole’s shoulders slump. “Come on. You need to eat something. You missed dinner last night too. You’ve already lost too much weight. You’re dropping away to nothing. Do you want something else? How about scrambled eggs?”

  “I want you to stop hovering around me,” he says. “And to help me find the car keys so I can go to the store.”

  I sit down beside Dad at the table. “I made a special biscuit for you, Dad. It’s a bacon biscuit with butter. Your favorite.”

  Dad calmly takes the plate from me, and I smile triumphantly, thinking I’ve gotten through to him. I glance over at Cole. He knows what I’m thinking.

  See how easy it is.

  All it takes is a calm voice and a little sweet talking to work with Dad.

  Suddenly, Dad swipes the plate off the table, biscuit and all, onto the floor. I stand there in complete shock at his actions.

  “Where’s my keys?” he mutters. “I’m trapped in this place. It’s a prison. What have you boys done with my truck? Did someone steal it? I know there’s people sneaking around the barn at night. No-good kids probably trying to steal an old man’s truck.”

  Cole rolls his eyes and reaches for the broom and dustpan in the corner. “Thanks for that, Levi. You’re a big help this morning.”

  “I’m sorry,” I mutter, shaking my head. I take the broom from him and start sweeping up the crumbs and broken plate on the floor.

  “You think I haven’t tried every tone of voice? Every technique?” Cole whispers to me under his breath. “Sometimes you need to pick your battles with him. Just go with the flow.”

  He reaches over and tries to take the broom back from me. I shoulder him out of the way.

  “It’s quicker if I do it,” he says.

  “No, I’ll clean it up,” I say in a louder voice, ready to wrestle with him over the broom if I need to. “Dammit, Cole! I need to help out.”

  What has happened to my calm and cool big brother? Are we seriously going to have a fistfight over cleaning up a broken plate? Meanwhile Lily is standing there watching the whole scene with big eyes.

  Cole lets out a long breath. “Okay, how about you go to the pharmacy for me and pick up Dad’s prescription while we take Lily to school? That’ll save me an errand later.”

  “Sure, I’ll take Dad’s truck. Do you want me to take him with me?”

  We both glance over at Dad, who is now picking through the arrangement of keys hanging on the wall where he always put them.

  “No, I’d better keep him with me,” Cole says. “I can already tell it’s going to be one of those days.”

  I feel a little like a kid who’s being given a token chore by their parents to keep them busy, but I’m desperate to show I’m willing to do whatever. I want to help even if it turns out I’m useless at it.

  I go upstairs, get dressed, and leave Cole handling the chaos, all the while wondering how much longer he can keep this up.

  I shouldn’t have left him to deal with this all alone.

  No wonder he thinks I’m a shit brother and son.

  12

  Levi

  I walk down Monroe’s Main Street after parking Dad’s pick-up truck in front of the hardware store. The old-fashioned buildings with their pastel storefronts and striped awnings are still the same as they were back when I was in high school.

  Nothing has changed.

  The local businesses in Monroe always seem to withstand the modernization of the world around them. Mostly due to the fact that the closest Walmart is over thirty miles away.

  The butcher shop is located on the same corner, offering a half-side of beef to stock up your freezer and fresh ground pork sausage.

  The florist where I bought Annie’s corsage for our high school prom is still open and owned by the same family. I remember spending over an hour in there carefully going through all the corsage choices before picking the perfect one to match her light blue prom dress.

  She was so pretty that night. When we walked into the prom together hand in hand, I knew I was the luckiest guy in the world.

  Our high school didn’t have enough money to rent out fancy hotels for the event, so we held our prom in the high school gymnasium. The senior class spent an enti
re week decorating it with balloons and streamers. The class even hired a local rock band for two hundred dollars who was tickled pink to be playing in front of a crowd.

  Everyone was happy that night.

  We even managed to sneak in a little bit of whiskey past the teacher chaperones by hiding it above the bathroom ceiling tiles. Not that we needed it to have a good time. It was more to see what we could get away with.

  Back then, no one ever called Levi Hamby an angel. The teachers were on the lookout for me all the time.

  That night was one of the best in my life.

  Holding Annie close in my arms for the slow dances and having her gaze up at me with her big blue eyes the way only she could.

  At the time, I never would’ve dreamed that a little more than three months later we would be going our separate ways. She went off to college on a four-year paid scholastic scholarship and I loaded up my truck for Nashville.

  At first we managed to get together and meet back up in Monroe for a weekend here and there. Then the weekends were spaced further and further apart. One weekend we had a little spat about something unimportant. We broke up, with both of us thinking it was only temporary.

  Then things started heating up fast with my music career and she had final exams at college. Weeks apart turned into months, then years. Many times, I picked up the phone to call her, not knowing if she had a boyfriend or if she would want to hear from me.

  Every time I put the phone back down without making the call.

  Now that I’m back in Monroe, it’s hard to push her out of my mind. The memories of her are everywhere.

  I reach the pharmacy at the end of the block and step inside. It smells of antiseptic and floral air freshener. I wander down the central aisle towards the counter, running my eyes over the hair dyes and band-aids. It’s only when I reach the counter and lift my eyes that I notice Annie standing there in her white coat, her blonde hair pulled back into a sophisticated ponytail.

  “Annie,” I call out in surprise.

  It’s a pleasant shock to see her.