Free Summer (Four Seasons #2) by Frankie Rose Page A

probably am being if I’m honest.  
    I ring the doorbell and my mother opens up two seconds later, like she was hovering on the other side, waiting. Her hair is perfect, her suit still immaculate even after what I’m sure was a very long day. My grandparents on her side were loaded. I never met either of them; they both died in a car accident when Mom and Dad were still in college together. They left her a huge amount of money, though, so she could easily not work at all and still afford her lovely home and her lovely clothes, but naturally she doesn’t. She works just as hard as everyone else in New York City. If I had to pay my mother a compliment, I’d say she’s at least slogged her guts out to build a highly impressive career for herself.  
    “Avery. Come in.” Her voice is a little lighter than usual, the odd expression on her face confusing the living hell out of me.  
    “ Amanda .” I move past her into the sterile environment she calls home. I conduct a quick scan of the living room to see if her girlfriend is there, but we seem to be alone.
    Amanda must notice the quick survey. “Brit’s on call at the hospital,” she says.
    “She’s a doctor?” I walk to the breakfast bar and slide into a seat, looking down at my fingernails, only slightly shocked to find them way longer than normal. I’m about to bite the nail on my index finger when—an entirely nervous reaction—when my mother reaches over and swats at my hands.  
    “Don’t do that. I’ll get you a file. That’s gross.”
    I ignore her and continue to bite. “So I have a lot of catching up to do at school. You want to tell me why I’m here?”
    She raises both eyebrows until it looks like they’re going to hit her hairline. “Why the attitude?”
    “Let’s see...” I pause for dramatic effect. “Where should I start?”
    “Look, Avery. I’m trying here. I know things have been difficult for you. I want to…I want to help you. Okay?”
    I stare at her for a minute, truly unsure of how I’m supposed to respond. This woman rejected me from her life after Dad died, when I needed her most. She knows what she did. And now she wants to help me? Talk about a case of too little, too late. She doesn’t say another word; she starts to pull out plates from one of the kitchen cupboards.  
    “I ordered Chinese. I remembered you loved it when you were a kid. It should be here soon.”
    I get up and help, collecting two clean glasses from the cabinet beside the sink. I’d be lying if I claimed to know what I’m going to say next. I’m totally perplexed by this whole situation.  
    “Could you get me a Perrier water in the fridge, please?” Amanda asks. “There are sodas in the pantry if you’d prefer one of those.”
    “I thought you didn’t drink soda.”
    “I don’t. Brit has a sweet tooth. Guilty pleasure, I guess.” Her voice is tight and restrained, as if talking about her girlfriend is pushing awkward boundaries. It wouldn’t be awkward at all if she’d just told me about her in the first place.  
    “Am I going to get to meet Brittany sometime soon?”
    “She would like that.”  
    I carry the cups and drinks to the long full-length table my mother has already set. Eating at the breakfast bar would be far more informal, but then informal has never Mom’s style.  
    “Does Brit have kids?” I sit down as the doorbell rings. “Sounds like dinner’s here.”
    “No, she doesn’t have any children.” Amanda heads to collect the Chinese, shoulders stiff, chin held high.  
    When we were back in Breakwater, Marlena, Luke’s mom, spoke about Amanda like she was alive once. Like she used to be so happy. I just can’t picture it. What the hell happened? And what was the deal with her and Uncle Brandon? Marlena alluded to something happening between them, but…surely not? As I watch her, a million questions run through my head, all pushing and shoving each other out of the way.  
    When Brandon was called in for