Summer changed into a nightgown and went to bed, but sleep eluded her. When she did doze, she dreamed—mostly of Timmy and Nicole and how forlorn they’d looked during their parents’ funeral. In her dreams, the children stood with outstretched arms, looking at her with beseeching eyes. After the secure home life she’d known as a child, she couldn’t imagine what it would be like to suddenly lose your parents.
Awakening at an early hour, anger and defiance replaced the compassion of her dreams. Summer could empathize with her sister’s concern for her kids, but she considered it inexcusable for Spring and Bert to saddle her and David with the responsibility of a school in the hinterlands of North Carolina.
David’s bright and cheerful manner, when he breezed into the apartment at noon, irritated Summer. She’d tried to cover up the ravages of a sleepless night with makeup, but she hadn’t succeeded for David was unkind enough to say, “I told you to get some sleep.”
Lack of rest had made her grouchy, and she said, “Let’s get down to business. What can we do about this dilemma we’ve had dumped in our laps?”
He sat on the couch and stretched his neatly clad legs out in front of him. “What do you want to do about it?”
“I want to ignore it, but I know we can’t.”
“I’ve wondered why Spring kept repeating the children’s names at the hospital. I’ve decided she was trying to tell me the provisions of their wills, but she was too far gone to express herself. If we don’t accept the responsibility, the decisions are going to boomerang to our parents, none of whom are able to take over.”
Stalling for time, Summer walked around the room, adjusting items on the tables. She paused to straighten a wall collage of framed photographs featuring the Weaver sisters and her father’s prize-winning Belgian horses.
“David,” she began earnestly, “listen to my side of the situation. I wanted to come to New York when I graduated from high school, but my parents wouldn’t let me. When I was of age and ready to strike out on my own, Mother had a stroke, and I went home to take care of her. I was there six years, and now, at long last, I’m in New York with my parents’ blessing. I have a good job and a bright future in the financial market. Do you think it’s right for my sister to ask me to give up my life to take on her family, her dreams and her ambition? Surely it’s time for me to live the way I want to. It isn’t fair!”
The forlorn faces of Timmy and Nicole flitted into Summer’s mind, but she willed the images into the background.
“Life often isn’t fair,” David answered in a compassionate tone, “and I do understand your position. As a matter of fact, I’m pleased with my life the way it is now. I don’t want to change, either.”
She glanced at David quickly. If he felt that way, maybe she wasn’t as selfish as she thought she was. “Then you’re willing to refuse their requests?” she asked eagerly.
“Maybe. Since I wasn’t consulted about being the executor, nor either of us about their other requests, I don’t feel we’re obligated. But if I’d told them I’d do these things, I wouldn’t back out.”
David breathed deeply, looked at her with troubled eyes, and spoke in a resigned, yet compassionate, tone. “But I can’t make this decision on what is legally right or wrong. Love for my brother motivates me more than legalities. If the situation were reversed, and Timmy and Nicole were my kids, would I want Bert to abandon them? It’s not an easy decision, Summer.”
The time had come to be honest or live a lie the rest of her life. She leaned against the latticed divider between her kitchen and living area, and after a long pause, Summer looked him squarely in the eyes and said, “It’s not that simple for me. I promised Spring I’d take care of her children.”
David stared at her, and despite the stress of the moment, she was slightly amused to see his surprise. He was usually on top of every situation.
“In the hospital before you came, Spring asked me to look after her kids, and she was so insistent and troubled, I finally agreed.”
“Why didn’t you say so when we were at the farm discussing guardianship of the kids?”
“I intended to, but when you mentioned that they’d probably made wills, I hoped that Spring hadn’t been rational when she made the request and that they’d made different arrangements for the children. That’s the reason I left and came back to New York as soon as I decently could. Every time I looked at Timmy and Nicole, I felt like bolting. I know absolutely nothing about rearing children. I’m not sure I even like children—I haven’t been around them enough to find out. David, I can’t do it, and if I don’t, it will torment me the rest of my life.”
She sat down again, leaned her head on the arm of the sofa and burst into tears. David hadn’t had any experience with crying women, so he didn’t know what he should do. He went to the kitchen and rummaged around in the cabinets. Everything was marked and in place, as he should have known it would be. He heated hot water, poured it into a cup and dangled a bag of a spiced tea blend in it.
He placed the cup on the coffee table and went to the bathroom and dampened a washcloth. He sat beside Summer and touched her shoulder. “Stop crying,” he encouraged. “I’ll help you through this.”
“But I don’t want my family to hate me!” she wailed.
“Wipe your face and drink your tea. We’ll figure out something.”
While Summer alternately sniffed and drank the tea, he tried to formulate a plan of action. How could he advise her when he didn’t know what to do?
“You’re not the only one who’s troubled about this situation,” he said at last. “I’ve got my life ordered the way I want it, and I’ve had a few bitter thoughts about a brother who would write such a will and not even mention it to me. I’m not good at administration, but the thing that bothers me more than anything else is that I’m not spiritually competent to take on Bert’s job.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You know the kind of school they operated, don’t you?”
“Of course. It’s a school for underprivileged and troubled teenagers.”
“But it’s also a Christian school, and while I was a practicing Christian when I was a boy, I’m not now. I haven’t read the Bible for years. I can’t be an administrator at a Christian school without a solid spiritual commitment. What about your faith? Are you qualified for this kind of work?”
Summer leaned back and rested her head on the couch. “My folks didn’t take us to church, so I have very little knowledge of Christianity. Spring became a Christian when she met Bert, and Autumn and Nathan are active in church affairs. I’ve always been the oddball in the family, and it’s the same with spiritual matters. I’d have no idea how to work with teenagers in a mission school.”
“And that may be our way out of this situation,” David said. “Just because Bert and Spring wanted us to take over their school doesn’t mean we can. They were serving under a mission board, and I doubt very much that the board members would allow us to take over the school even if we wanted to.”
Summer brightened, and then her spirits drooped again. “But we’d still be stuck with the kids.” She gasped and covered her face with her hands. “What a terrible thing to say! Don’t I have any compassion at all?”
David sympathized with Summer. When he’d been around the Weaver family, he’d gathered that Summer hadn’t received as much attention as the other two daughters. When she’d been a quiet child, it was easy for her to escape notice.
“I haven’t told your parents or mine about the contents of the wills, but I’d like to go to North