‘Ms Summers, just thought you’d like to know that your son was spotted in the village about twenty minutes ago.’
‘Thank you Panny.’ Summer Summers smiles sleepily, as she hangs up the phone, not at all surprised that her youngest son, soon to be married, is about to show up on her doorstep without notice.
‘Jameson’s here?’ Stelios asks his wife.
‘As you predicted my love.’
Just last night they were talking about the union between Jameson, the lovely Miss Mulberry who was until six months ago, engaged to be married to Marcel Duchamp, a wedding to which she’d been invited and had every intention of attending considering the Mulberrys are in her social circle even if their interactions were sporadic. She likes the family very much, an understated and distinguished family that is very well regarded. Suddenly, it was all change, and her son had become the groom, she the mother of the groom; it is a most peculiar union. Even more so when you consider the fact that she is yet to receive a notification of cancellation from the other wedding. The funny thing is, Summer likes Sawyer Mulberry for her son, there is something about the woman about to become her daughter-in-law that brings out the best side of him, the side he likes to keep hidden from the world especially since Brandy. Her heart aches for Jameson; she’d tried everything to bring him out of that darkness, but he sank himself further in by working to a tilt with a gruelling schedule, never staying in a place long enough to settle and never addressing his feelings about what happened. Except with Sawyer, he is settling, and it leaves him unsettled in a good way; something he is not yet ready to acknowledge.
Summer marvels at how like her, her sons are, all five of them, considering they have different fathers, five different fathers. Hers was a life well lived and documented on the society pages of New York high society and the global press. They probably remember more than she was willing to acknowledge. One of the reasons she left New York for the quieter life in Loggos, the most charming village on Paxos where she also now calls home with Stelios, in their not so little, more like a mini palatial, estate. They maintain three residences back in the States; an iconic apartment in Manhattan, where she jets in and out of, on their private jet depending on life, work or family commitments, part of her parents vast estate that passed down to her upon their deaths, their beach compound in the Hamptons and another in Martha’s Vineyard.
Summer Summers was the only child of Autumn and Irving Summers, (yes her mother’s name was Autumn Summers and she had every intention of naming all her children after the seasons, sex regardless, but Summer was their only child, born to them later in life than was the convention at the time, both in their forties, after so many pregnancy loses) oil barons and the sole heir to an oil fortune in the billions. She grew up on private jets that landed on private islands, five-star hotel suites, yachts and palaces. Homes on every continent, and thanks to her somewhat unconventional childhood, she speaks several languages having attended school on every continent as well. It is a wonder she was able to attend Yale long enough to graduate or even remain in New York long enough to hold a job as a magazine editor for GRACE for over a quarter of a century.
Following the deaths of her parents, Summer thought it time to settle, take a break from the island and continent hopping and do a good friend a solid by leading his magazine and reigning as fashion’s most powerful and revered person for a good stretch. She settled in New York for a while, lived in the apartment on 5th avenue, summered in the Hamptons or Martha’s Vineyard when she stayed in the country for the season, or in any of the other homes on other continents, and dated a string of men along the way. Men who were besotted by her, and whilst the affection was seldom returned, it often yielded a child. She was known in the press, amongst other things, as the consummate singleton, forever baby mama. (Another reason she left the country all together, the idiotic tabloid press who dogged her life to no end) To the men who dated her it didn’t matter that Summer Summers had another man’s child or children, they wanted to be married to her, to be the one she showed off in society, as if it was some badge of honour that she’d deemed them worthy, but Summer was not one for settling. She’d leave before the conversation could turn to making a permanent life with them, even if they shared an offspring. In truth, she’d been terrified of falling in love, of being so in love with a person that when they die, life does not bear much living like her mother did when she killed herself following her father’s car accident in Monaco. She’d been heartbroken to pieces and could never get over the fact that she wasn’t worth living for her mother. It is a constant source of heartache for her because she’d loved her parents dearly. They were the three musketeers until she found herself careening without her anchors.
Stelios kisses his wife on the head, slowly bringing her back to him, because he knows where her mind wandered to. She’s beautiful, as beautiful as the perfect summer’s day, just like her name, tomes have been written about her beauty, rockstars sang lyrics to songs in the hall of fame.
‘Do you think I should feel him out?’
‘I think let him ease into telling you my darling, do not ambush him because I know you want him to be okay, but he will not get there in a hurry. You must give him time and space to get there, don’t go into mama bear mode. Something more is afoot and with everything that happened with Brandy, now this shot gun union, he needs to be given the room to open up.’
Summer smirks at her husband’s wisdom. All her sons respect the hell out of Stelios, treat him like a father figure and share a close relationship with him. They would call just for the hell of it, turn up without even informing her and spend time doing stuff with him. Stelios loves her sons, and with their fathers he shares a convivial relationship. It was all incredibly cosy, if a little or a lot unconventional, but they make it work for them.
‘I hate it when you are so wise.’
‘It’s a secret power.’ Stelios gets out of bed, ‘go freshen up, I’ll intercept him. He should be here soon.’ He slips on his house slippers, throws on a housecoat over his silk pyjamas, and leaning in for another kiss with his wife, he says, ‘I love you.’
‘I love you too.’
Summer takes her time freshening up, indulging in a bath before getting dressed in a cashmere lounge set from Prada, to meet her son. Jackson called her earlier in the week to fill her in on his brother’s antics, because everything about what Jameson is doing is out of character and if there is one thing she knows about her son, it is how not out of character he is. She knows he has not called Dr. Yomi; he would much rather deal with this himself, but what her baby boy fails to understand or realise is that he cannot deal with something as tragic as the death of a loved one, alone. She should know as mothers always do. Dr Yomi saved her life at one point; she is much more than a therapist for her; she is a lifelong friend.
‘Morning mom.’
‘Hey lovely boy.’ Summer kisses her youngest son on the head, coming in for a tight squeeze. ‘What brings you to my doorstep this wonderful summer morning?’
‘Can’t a son miss his mother?’
‘I saw you two weeks ago.’
‘Well, I missed you and Stelios.’
Stelios and Summer exchange a brief glance and sensing the boy’s need for his mother’s time away from his brothers, away from other ears, he makes his exit.
‘Good to see you kid.’ Stelios says with a gentle touch on Jameson’s shoulder. He gives his wife a quick kiss before heading to his home office.
Summer takes the seat just vacated by her husband, across from her youngest son, who looks so much like her, it’s uncanny.
‘I was in the neighbourhood.’
‘A long way from New York.’
‘London.’
Summer raises a brow taking a sip of her cup of coffee. ‘You went to see your girl.’
‘I did. I also had a call with Doctor Yomi.’
‘You called Yomi?’ Now that throws her for a mini loop. ‘How is my soon to be daughter in law?’
‘Lovely as ever.’
‘And how did the conversation with Doctor Yomi go?’
‘I’m going in to see her as soon as I get back to New York.’
‘Okay. I take it that’s good?’
‘It is mom and before you ask there is nothing off about my relationship.’
‘I’m not saying it’s off, I just know that you’re not being all honest with me and by extension you’ve made it hard for Sawyer to be honest with us because I know whatever she is keeping from us, it’s got to do with you.’
‘Do you think she loves me?’
‘Sawyer? Of course she does I don’t know what’s going on, but I’ve been around you two and all I see is love. I should know, I have a master’s degree in it.’
‘Mom you have a master’s degree in being a player.’
‘I am not a player.’
‘Your sons are proof of how much of a player you were. I saw dad last week and he got all misty eyed talking about how you are the one that got away.’
‘That fool is married, in love with his wife, with whom I am an acquaintance.’ Summer rolls her eyes.
‘It helps you being away from the country, a whole continent away.’
‘What can I say? I have my charms.’ She sits up to level with her son, ‘back to you my darling, talk to me. Whatever it is, whatever the matter is, I will back you. You want to marry her? Done. You will, as long as she wants to marry you. You wanna walk away, I’ll kick your arse because I love her for you and then I will set her up with someone a hair less hotter than you are but just as brilliant because she deserves the very best.’ She reaches for his hands across the table, ‘what is going on kid? Talk to me.’
Jameson figures it’s time to talk to someone about what the real deal is between him and his fiancée.