room. The hands on the clock indicated it was 2:34...Sunday afternoon.
Babbs’s hand clutched her chest while the other lay heavy on Summer’s shoulder. She shook Summer again. “Rick’s conscious. He’s asking for you.”
Summer jumped to her feet, swaying. Babbs stilled her with a brusque hug. She pointed to a nurse standing in the doorway, who nodded to Summer and motioned for her to follow.
“Thank you.” Summer prayed, her heart brimming over at the news. She followed the nurse down the frigid hallway, keenly aware of the profound sadness lurking simultaneously just below the surface of her joy.
For almost two days, she’d had nothing to do except think, and those thoughts had replayed the ripple effect of her selfish actions over and over in her head. She’d brought nothing but heartache to too many people.
Her parents’ retirement investment was surely gone. They’d had to cancel the second session of camp as parents pulled their kids left and right from the list of attendees on the heels of the news.
Rick had lost part of a lung...had almost lost his life. His parents had nearly lost a son. Luke, a brother.
Her parents didn’t deserve a failure like her for a daughter, but they were stuck with her.
Rick, on the other hand, was not.
She hoped he hated the sight of her now. That would make it easier.
Coward. If he’s asking for me, that’s not how this mission is going down.
But she wouldn’t play on his sympathy with the “poor little screwup me” thing, either. That would only encourage him to stick around to save her from herself.
No, she would be cheerful and strong. She would hang around a few more days to make sure he was going to make a full recovery, then she would get busy with parties...or whatever. Too busy for visits or calls, totally self-absorbed and totally in line with her selfish nature.
Rick could wash his hands of her with a sigh of good riddance.
Summer squared her shoulders and walked into his room with a smile of hello on her lips, every fiber of her keenly aware that this moment started her countdown to goodbye.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“HELLO?” SUMMER DIDN’T HAVE to look at the caller ID to know who was on the line.
“Did you know Rick’s going home today?”
Tears stung at the backs of Summer’s eyes. Again she sighed in resignation. “Yes, Mom. I know. Tara called earlier with the news.”
She’d cried with relief and happiness when she’d gotten the call from Tara. After she hung up, the tears had been of anguish because she wasn’t ever going to see Rick again. According to Tara, he was considering a job offer in Arkansas. That was a good thing, but it still hurt.
Maybe these tears would be cathartic. The ones that would wash away everything else and leave her feeling resolved. Healed.
“Are you going to visit him?” Her mom’s tone took on that testy edge that came right before a lecture.
Summer considered lying, but that would just be putting off the inevitable. “No. I’m not going to visit him. I’ve made my break from Rick. It was the right thing to do...probably the most right thing I’ve ever done.”
“This isn’t like you, Summer.” The voice on the other end rose at least an octave. “You’ve been flighty and selfish, but I’ve never known you to be cruel before.”
Ouch. “I’m not being cruel, Mom.” No matter what you and the rest of the world think. “It wasn’t meant to be. He needs someone...different from me.” Someone worthy of a hero. She wiped off the tear scalding a path down her cheek.
“He asks about you every day.”
And I think about him all the time. “He’ll get over it.”
“Well, I can see talking to you about it isn’t going to do any good. You’ve made up your mind, I can tell. And when you get your mind made up, you’re just like your fath—”
“I’ve got a party to get to, Mom.” That was a lie, but her battered heart couldn’t withstand any more blows. “Was there anything else you needed?”
“Actually, I called with other news.”
The words held a note of apology, so the news had to be about Sunny Daze. Summer gripped the phone tighter.
“We sold the camp this morning.”
“You took the state’s offer.” Irritation burned Summer’s throat. Sunny Daze was worth so much more than the paltry sum Riley Gibson had offered the day after the shooting.
No doubt, he was convinced the bad publicity of the incident would ruin the camp—which it might—and that her