Perfect Summer by Katie Graykowski Read Free Book Online

inspected Summer from head to toe, her smile never wavering as she took in Summer’s Keep Austin Weird tee shirt, frayed cutoffs, and red Mickey Mouse Crocs. “Really, dear, I would love to hire someone to take care of the yard for you.”
    She threw a glance at the withering rosebush sagging on its trellis. “I think it would be best.”
    Everything her mother gave her came with strings, and Summer was tired of being a marionette. “No, thanks. I love doing it.”
    There was pride in doing things for herself—something her mother couldn’t understand.
    “You got that from my mother, along with her masculine body type. It’s a shame you didn’t get more from my father’s petite, graceful people.” Her head tilted to the left as her eyes zeroed in on Summer’s midsection. “Are you putting on weight? You did so well on NutriSystem and looked wonderful. I’d hate for you to gain it all back.”
    In her mother’s world, only thin people were happy.
    Summer was finally mastering the art of talking while smiling. “I haven’t put on an ounce—”
    “Dear, shoulders back and chin up or you’ll be a hunched-over old lady.” Her mother’s voice was just the right combination of Jackie O and southern belle to be pleasant and grating—like biting into a gooey peanut butter and jelly sandwich and then remembering that pesky peanut allergy.
    Summer thrust her shoulders back but left her chin where it was. She had to take a stand somewhere. “I was just going in for a glass of tea. Care to join me?”
    Her mother pursed her lips and took a moment to decide.
    “Sorry. I’m meeting your Aunt Leticia and her latest beau at the club. Today would have been your father’s fifty-fifth birthday.”
    To give her mother credit, there was a slight quiver in her voice. Summer only had fleeting images to call memories of her father since he’d died when she was four. The fact that his fatal heart attack had come while he was in bed with his mistress was another one of those smile-only subjects.
    “I haven’t heard from you in a couple of weeks, so I thought I’d drop by. I called but you didn’t answer. I have something I need you to sign. The board of directors of your father’s company is voting on something or other, and they need your proxy.”
    The real reason for the visit. Not that her mother was worried about Summer because Lillian Ames only cared about her daughter’s weight, how purple was the new black, and whether everyone in her social group knew that Puddy Hanover was screwing her pool man.
    Her mother glided—back straight, chin up—to her car and opened the passenger-side door. Bending over wasn’t lady-like, so she squatted, knees together, and delicately rested one butt cheek on the seat while she rummaged in her Hermes. “Here it is.”
    Producing a white business envelope, she glided back to Summer. “Read it over, sign, and drop it in the mail.”
    “Oh, good, I get to make decisions that make millionaires into bazallionaires, while my kids hustle to scrounge together rent money,” Summer said under her breath, but it didn’t matter because her mother had the amazing ability to see and hear only what she wanted. And she didn’t want to see or hear anything unpleasant.
    “Thanks.” Summer had voting shares, and the dividends went directly into the trust fund that one day might be hers, depending on her mother’s mood. As things stood right now, Summer could inherit when she turned thirty-five or fifty or never. It didn’t matter because money wasn’t everything; it certainly hadn’t brought Lillian happiness. Then again, happiness wasn’t a state of being with which Lillian was acquainted.
    Her mother ran a hand through her artfully windblown blonde bob. “I know we haven't spoken much about the...incident."
    Incident? Incident. Walking out of the bathroom with her dress tucked into her panties was an incident. Leaving a restaurant with a noodle hanging out of her cleavage was an