Perfect Summer by Bethany Lopez
Mitch
Ipulled up along the curb outside Faith’s parents’ house and looked over at it through my passenger window.
I felt seventeen again. I’d spent most of my teenaged years parked in this very spot, whether I was picking Faith up, dropping her off, or spending time inside. I knew this home as well as I’d known my own childhood home.
It’s funny. Thinking of how much time I’d spent there and the fact that I hadn’t stepped foot back inside in over a decade.
With a deep breath, I pushed my door open and got out of the truck.
I was kind of nervous, which was funny. As if I were going to meet a girl I liked’s parents for the first time. I could remember the nerves, and frankly the terror, I’d experienced the first time I’d met Faith’s. I hadn’t driven that time, because I’d only had a permit, so I’d ridden my bike over to “study” and they were both waiting to meet me at the door.
I’d seen them around and Mrs. Evans had always been kind, but Mr. Evans was an imposing figure.
I walked up the sidewalk and paused before knocking on the door.
After a few moments, the door opened and there he was, Mr. Evans.
Had he gotten smaller?
“Mitchell, good to see you again, son,” he said jovially, sticking out his hand and pumping mine enthusiastically when I accepted his shake. “Come in, come in.”
“Thanks, nice to see you, too, Mr. Evans.”
“Call me Richard, please. We’re all adults now.”
I blinked in surprise but repeated, “Richard.”
He led me through the house, talking excitedly in a way I didn’t even know he could.
“I heard what happened at the auction and I have to say, I’m pleased. Very pleased. It was smart to let your intentions be known and stake your claim in front of the town like that. Plus, I’m sure it made Faith feel like the belle of the ball, what with you practically clearing out your bank account to bid on her.”
“On her basket,” I corrected.
He waved my correction off as we stepped into his office.
When he crossed to his decanter and poured two glasses of bourbon before handing me one, you could have knocked me over with a feather.
It was like being accepted into his inner sanctuary. Insane.
“Now, just to be clear, that didn’t actually wipe out your bank account, right? I have to assume a smart man like yourself, living well within your means, would have more socked away than a measly thousand, am I right?”
I lifted my glass toward him in thanks before taking a sip.
“I do all right, Richard. No need to worry,” I promised.
“That’s my guy,” he said, tipping his glass toward me.
His guy? Had I slipped and hit my head on the way in? Was I in an alternate universe? What was even happening?
Just then, Faith stuck her head in and smiled.
“There you are … I’m ready to go if you are. I know you said it’s a bit of a drive to get there.”
“Yes, uh, thanks for this, Richard, but we’ve got to get on the road.”
It felt sacrilegious putting down a glass missing only a sip of bourbon, but I didn’t want to down it before getting in the car and driving Faith to Billings, so I hoped her father wasn’t offended by my not drinking it.
I crossed to Faith, taking in the long dress made up of clingy blue material, which complemented her eyes and accentuated her curves. Her hair and makeup were flawless as usual, heck, she’d always been perfectly made up, even as a teen, and she looked excited to see me, which pleased me to no end.
“You look gorgeous,” I told her, leaning in to kiss her cheek.
“Thanks, so do you,” she said airily.
“You two have a wonderful evening,” her dad said from behind us.
“Thanks, Dad.”
We walked toward the door, but before we opened it to leave, I asked, “Is Hope here? I’d like to say hi.”
“Actually, she and my mom went to go pick up some items at the grocery store for tonight. But I love that you asked.”
We said goodbye to her father and once we got to my truck, I opened her door and held out a hand to help her get up into it, before shutting the door behind her and rounding it to get in. I noticed her dad still standing on the porch watching us, a pleased grin on his face, so I gave him a wave and got inside.
“Ready?” I asked her.
“Yes, let’s go before my dad climbs in with us.”
We both laughed as I pulled away from the curb and I was relieved at how easy things were between us.
“I’ve got a surprise for you in the glove box,” I said, holding back a grin.
She opened it and took out the cassette tape that was inside.
“Oh my gosh, did you really save this?” Faith asked, turning it over to look at the list of songs, which were familiar since it was written in her handwriting.
“Put it in,” I suggested.
“Wait … I don’t know what’s crazier. That you have the mix tape I made for you junior year or that your truck has a cassette player.”
“Hey, don’t judge,” I joked.
She opened the plastic case, took out the tape, and slid it in the slot. Seconds later, I Gotta Feeling by The Black Eyed Peas came on.
Faith looked over at me with the same joyous expression she used to give me when this song came on and we both started singing.