A Girl Named Summer Read Online Free

expression on Michael’s face, Summer concluded that her cool logic wasn’t making a dent, so she tried another approach. “Your feet are going to get all shriveled up and fall off if you don’t let some air get to them,” she warned in an ominous voice.
    The threat didn’t faze him. But then, her little brother wasn’t easily intimidated. “Superman always wears red boots,” he proclaimed. He rolled his eyes heavenward, just the way Grandpa did when he was exasperated, and folded his arms in a militant manner across his chest. He was obviously in one of his stubborn moods, Summer finally realized, and she sighed in defeat.
    “Summer, don’t tease your brother,” their mother admonished as she continued to pull items out of her purse.
    “I give up,” Summer said. “Your keys are on the dining room table,” she added as an afterthought. “I just remembered seeing them there.”
    “Why, of course they are,” her mother exclaimed with a grin. “Michael, you be a good boy and obey your sister while she’s in charge. Summer, don’t forgetto give your grandfather his medicine at three o’clock. It’s on top of the refrigerator.”
    “Tell her I get to wear my boots,” Michael demanded.
    “Of course you must wear your boots,” their mother agreed. “But please take them off during naptime.”
    “You win, half-pint,” Summer said.
    After a quick hug and kiss for Michael and a peck on the cheek for Summer, their mother scooped up her keys from the table and hurried out the door.
    As soon as they were alone, Summer turned to her brother. “Come on, I’ll fix your lunch.”
    “No.” It was an automatic response, a word Michael had grown quite fond of lately, but Summer didn’t pay any attention and went into the kitchen. Michael followed her, hovering in the doorway while he watched her fix his sandwich.
    “I’m not hungry,” he stubbornly protested when she placed the sandwich on the table.
    “Yes, you are,” Summer answered. She lifted him up and settled him in his chair before he could continue his rebellion, then sat down opposite him.
    “I won’t eat.”
    Summer pretended a bored yawn and shrugged. She had learned the hard way to act as if she couldn’t care less when she really wanted something from Michael. One had to be an amateur psychologist when dealing with three-year-olds.
    “Quit making squishes in your sandwich,” she scolded him.
    Michael looked at Summer. “Why are you so mad?” he asked.
    “Mad? I’m not mad, Michael. Why should I be mad? My entire summer vacation is completely ruined, but that shouldn’t make me mad, now should it?”
    Wide blue eyes stared at her; they were replicas of her own. Although they looked very much like sister and brother, Michael’s hair was the color of the carrot slice he was stabbing into his sandwich, while Summer’s hair was a golden blond.
    “Quit staring at me and eat.” Summer was in a rotten mood. “Life is the pits, Michael. Regina finally got her dad to let us work at the Pizza Paddle he owns, and now I have to stay home with you and Grandpa!
    “Why am I sitting here trying to discuss my problems with a three-year-old?” Summer suddenly asked herself. Good grief, she was getting as strange as the rest of her family! And they were strange. She had come to that conclusion years ago, even before Grandpa had moved in with them. She loved all of them dearly, but sometimes their behavior embarrassed her.
    Her father put in long hours at his flower shop and truly seemed to enjoy his work, but, honestly, sometimes their house looked like the city botanical gardens. He told her he brought home only the plantsthat needed “special attention,” and she could understand that, but did he have to talk to them? Every day as he watered and fertilized them, he moved from one to the other offering praise and encouragement. If people outside her family observed this ritual, Summer was confident they’d think he’d lost his mind.
    Her