Lonely Lullaby Read online

  LONELY LULLABY

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  COVEY PUBLISHING, LLC

  Published by Covey Publishing, LLC

  PO Box 550219, Gastonia, NC 28055-0219

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  Copyright © 2019 by Vannah Summers

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  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the writer, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Cover Design Copyright © 2019 Covey Publishing, LLC

  Book Design by Covey Publishing, LLC, www.coveypublishing.com

  Copy Editing by Covey Publishing, LLC

  Printed in the United States of America.

  ISBN: 978-1-948185-85-1

  First Printing, 2019

  For my sissy, Whitney. I love you more than pie. Always have, forever will <3

  Acknowledgments

  First, I'd like to thank my honey bunches for making sure I had the time to write this story. I love and appreciate you so much. You're the best hubby ever!

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  To my brother, Ladd, I love you. You're a Sasquatch.

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  My sister, Julio, I love you so much. Hakuna Ricotta. You're an eyeball.

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  To my parentals, you're welcome for being such a cool kid. Nah, just kidding. I love you, and thank you for always believing in me and raising me with a love for books.

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  I also want to thank the rest of family and friends: Marilyn, Sarah, Josie, and countless others for all the support you've shown me.

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  Thank you to my TAFF and Just Write family for following me every step of this journey. Without all of your love and encouragement, I wouldn't have created this story. Thanks for answering all my many questions.

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  Hennah and Kohbi, you beautiful ladies talked with me at all times of the night. You two are the best accountability partners ever!

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  Special thanks to my lovely friend, Sadie, my soulmate across the seas! Thank you for beta reading the crap out of this story. You are a lifesaver, and I'm so grateful to have you in my life. You're my favorite Tootsie Roll.

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  And Meggan, you sweet, sweet southern unicorn. Thank you for the countless hours of motivation. You kicked my butt into gear and helped me cross the finish line. Thank you again because this story wouldn't be here without you.

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  Lastly, I want to thank my sister, Whitney, the best person I've ever known. I love you uberly much.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Also by Vannah Summers

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  I idled in front of the sink, my foot tapping a steady rhythm while I dried my hands off on a worn kitchen rag. With the phone ringing, the frying pan sizzling, and the customers chatting, the noisy café around me only added to the tempo storming in my head.

  I hummed softly along to the music playing at the back of my mind as I made my way around the booths to clean up after my most recent customers. Recently, my heart had felt restless, my mind filling full of its own music, and it made me antsy. I wasn’t sure what it meant but hoped it was a good omen.

  The chef, Arnie, eyed me from over the counter. His fuzzy, gray eyebrows went up in question at my daydreaming. I smiled reassuringly at him as I hauled the dirty dishes and utensils back to the sink to wash them.

  Tonight, I was covering for one of my coworkers, which meant I hadn’t slept in the last twenty-four hours. The dinner rush was just about over, and I was grateful I’d soon be able to take a short nap before heading out to my next job. My feet were swollen from standing so long, and I ached to take off my shoes so I could massage them.

  It had been a fairly slow day at Clover Café, and I hoped for better luck with tips at my next job at the bar. With too many bills piled up, I wondered how I’d manage to pay for them all.

  The owner of Clover Café had followed his sister and her family from Ireland, and he told us the café was a source of luck for them. Hence why he’d named it after the four-leafed plant. I believed him, though. When I’d seen the “Now Hiring” sign tucked in the corner of the café’s window, it had been the best luck of my life…

  * * *

  My gaze roamed dejectedly down my newest bill.

  There was no way I would be able to pay that much money.

  “Sissy?”

  I glanced up at Whitney’s sleepy face. Her brown hair fell in disheveled chaos around her eyes, and a few strands stuck up at the crown of her head. She blinked a few more times to try to wake up.

  “What are you doing awake, Whitters?” I forced a smile on my face. With the bill now set aside, I pulled my little sister onto my lap.

  She situated herself so she could rest her head on my shoulder and closed her eyes. “Just bad dreams.”

  My arms squeezed her frail body closer to my chest. “Do you want to tell me about them?”

  She shook her head, and a couple of her stray hairs tickled my neck. She tended to have more nightmares than any eight-year-old should have. The things she’d witnessed growing up had left their mark on her gentle heart.

  I lifted her up and carried her back to the bed the two of us shared in the motel we currently occupied. Carefully, so I didn’t jostle her too much, I settled her back on the bed. Her purple nightgown didn’t quite cover the fresh scars left by her recent heart surgery. They creeped up from the neckline of the fabric. Tiny green frogs hopped across the fabric, catching flies.

  “Do you want me to sing for you?” I tucked the faded covers around her shoulders. I’d like to say it was because I didn’t want her to get cold, but it was more so I could hide her scars. If I couldn’t see them, I could pretend they weren’t there.

  She nodded and hugged her old stuffed animal, Froggy, to her chest. “Will you sing yours?”

  I sat on the edge of the sagging mattress. “If that’s what you want.”

  She nodded again, closing her young, brown eyes.

  I cleared my throat and fiddled with the drawstring of my battered pajama pants. “I hid my heart so long ago...”

  I sang softly, giving her small hand a gentle squeeze...

  * * *

  The TV in the café kitchen played the news in the background, but I wasn’t paying much attention to it. The memory held my focus, probably because of our appointment tomorrow to see the doctor for some tests. Ever since the doctor had called Whitney back in for more tests, anxiety had refused to leave my heart.

  I vaguely listened to the news anchor as I stared off at the wall and tried to calm myself down.
/>   “Exciting news for Salt Lake City t—”

  “Tessa!”

  I peered over my shoulder and smiled. “Hey, Brooke.”

  Brooke tied her apron around her waist. Her short, brown hair was a bit disheveled from the rain outside, and it stuck up in odd directions.

  “What are you doing here? I thought you worked mornings on Fridays.” She walked over to the sink and leaned her hip against it.

  “—new band premiering next week—”

  I shrugged. “Alex’s little girl is sick, and she needed someone to cover for her.”

  Switching off the faucet, I used the dishrag hanging on the wall to dry my hands.

  “—critics have been raving over them. The six-member band is t—”

  “You’re too nice, Tessa. One of these days, you’re going to burn yourself out. Whitney needs you to be strong and healthy, too.”

  I didn’t disagree with her. I was so overwhelmed recently, and I worried I was wearing myself thin. We’d been so low on money I’d started taking on even more work. It was hard, mostly because I didn’t see much of Whitney now, but if I could do just that little bit more for her, it would all be worth it.

  “So, buy your tickets soon before they all run out.”

  An elderly couple waved at us as they got up from their booth, leaving their money for their meal on the table. The man hobbled carefully over to his wife to take her arm as they made their way out of the café, and I couldn’t help but smile. I wanted that someday.

  I hadn’t received much knowledge about soul mates growing up, but it was common knowledge that, when we found them, our hearts were meant to connect through our music. Even though we all had our own individual songs, it was when we accepted the person whose heart mirrored our own that we would finally be complete.

  Finding your soul mate was everything in this life, but to be honest, it terrified me. Most of my knowledge came from internet research. None of it was reassuring, though. For the most part, everyone only spoke about how slim of a chance it would be to find your soul mate with the billions of people in the world.

  Brooke followed me over to the elderly couple’s booth by the door and helped me clear up the dishes. She eyed me worriedly, probably rightfully so, and I tried to smile reassuringly at her.

  “I’m fine,” I promised softly and turned on my heel to head back to the sink. “I need the money.”

  She knew about Whitney’s deteriorating health and how I struggled to pay for her medications and doctor’s visits. Even though I said I was fine, she still looked worried as she watched me. A crease formed between her brows.

  A giggle interrupted as Whitney and Samantha came through the doors, bringing in a tinge of cold air with them. Whitney’s hair was in two neat braids, and her face was flushed from the chilled October air.

  Samantha smiled warmly when she saw me. “Hey, Tessa. Just bringing this squirt back home.”

  Samantha and her husband owned Clover Café. They were in their late sixties now and hadn’t been able to conceive children of their own. That was probably why they’d taken us in so easily. Within a week of working for them, they had already made arrangements for Whitney and me to move into the one-bedroom apartment above their café. Their nephew had lived in it before he left for college several years ago, and now it was mine and Whitney’s little safe haven.

  They charged us cheaper rent than they probably should have, but anytime I brought it up, they refused more money.

  Samantha used to be an elementary school teacher, and while I worked, she tutored Whitney. It was a blessing since Whitney couldn’t easily attend school with her current condition and I wasn’t able to afford a home tutor.

  Whitney rushed over to me and shoved a math paper in my face. “Look, Sissy! I got them all right this time.”

  I chuckled and glanced over the paper she held. “That’s awesome. Let me finish up here, then you can tell me about your day.”

  Distracted by her enthusiasm, I turned around to head back to the kitchen and ran into a solid wall.

  The breath whooshed out of me as I lost my grip on the dirty dishes. Ketchup, mustard, and what appeared to be sesame seeds covered the wall and dripped down to its brown boots...

  Wait. Walls don’t have boots.

  Slowly, I lifted my eyes, and they widened in horror at the massive man in front of me.

  His thick brows furrowed in confusion, and his face seemed to be cemented into a permanent scowl. Food items decorated his plaid shirt and smudged down his tall frame, dripping steadily onto the floor.

  Looking him up and down once again, I cringed at the amount of condiments slipping down his body.

  My heart raced, leaping and skittering, as I met his hazel gaze. My mother used to tell me to pay attention to a person’s eyes when you met them. Eyes could tell a thousand secrets before the mouth could tell one.

  Gazing into this man’s eyes, an untamed wildfire stared back, but a storm kept it at bay. A brown gaze speckled with blue, like earth spotted with rain.

  All sound seemed to stop until all I could hear was the obnoxious drumming of my heart. An odd feeling seized my senses, something familiar yet foreign, and I frowned in bewilderment.

  Well, that’s strange. Maybe I need to lay off the fries.

  I opened my mouth to apologize, but my tongue seemed stuck to the roof of my mouth.

  Brooke beat me to it. “We are so sorry, sir! Let me grab something to clean you up.”

  She quickly set down her dishes, taking mine with hers, and snatched a clean rag.

  Had I really just dumped food on a customer? I must have been more exhausted than I realized.

  Whitney stepped forward and held my hand in her tiny one, almost like she was attempting to comfort me. I snapped out of my initial embarrassment of dumping a pile of dirty food on a guest when a pair of green eyes appeared from behind the lumberjack.

  His hair was the color of freshly spilled ink, and he wore a white shirt that rode up under his dark green jacket to reveal tanned skin. A roguish glint in his gaze hooked my attention, giving me the impression he was a lady’s man.

  But there was something else in his eyes, something almost painfully sad to look at that had goosebumps rising over my exposed skin.

  My fingers hovered over my heart, as if to try to steady its jerky beating, but for some reason, I couldn’t calm it.

  Deciding to focus on something else, I surveyed the messy floor in dismay as Brooke returned. Today was just not my day.

  “We’re so sorry again.” Brooke held out some coupons. “Here are some free meal vouchers for your inconvenience.”

  “Oliver? Is that you?” Samantha hurried over from the kitchen with a smile lighting her face as she regarded the black-haired man in the green jacket.

  Oliver… I was fairly certain that was the name of her nephew. I eyed the man with new interest. Samantha had spoken about him often since he was her only nephew, but never had I pictured him to be so… cute.

  She engulfed Oliver in a loving embrace, but when she stepped away, her brows lifted as she noticed the food on the ground. “Oh, dear. What happened?”

  Brooke placed a hand on my shoulder in comfort, and I grimaced as I stepped forward. “It was my fault. I wasn’t paying attention and bumped into”—I waved my hand at the lumberjack of a man—“him.”

  Samantha placed her hand on my forehead, causing me to blush as the others watched the exchange. Tsking, she scanned my face with disapproval. “Do you work with Daniel tonight?” I nodded, and she sighed, her face taut with concern. “Take Whitney and rest while you can, dear. We’ve got it covered down here.”

  With another nod, I faced the man I’d spilled food on with an apologetic grimace. I wasn’t usually so clumsy. A catnap was just what I needed to feel better.

  “I’m sorry,” I murmured awkwardly, grateful I could now ditch this uncomfortable situation. “Enjoy your dinner.”

  Without a second glance, I gently pulled Whitney wit
h me around to the back. She sent me an apologetic smile, and I shook my head to reassure her it wasn’t her fault; I was clumsy and distracted.

  I rushed Whitney up the stairs to our apartment on the last of my fumes. I was beat.

  Once I double-checked to make sure the door was securely locked, I stumbled blindly to the bed with Whitney giggling along behind me. I hadn’t replaced the lightbulbs near the entrance to the apartment since they’d burned out six months ago. I liked to say it was because I was trying to save on my electricity bill, but really I was just lazy.

  Samantha would come up and stay in the apartment once I left for my next job, but she made sure I got as much alone time with Whitney as I could since I missed her so much during the day. Occasionally, they would stay at Samantha’s home, but it was more convenient for everyone just to remain at our apartment.

  I managed to make it into our bedroom and over to our bed without bruising anything serious, only a throbbing big toe from where I accidentally kicked the corner of the overly stocked bookshelf by the front door, and collapsed in exhaustion on the bed covers. I didn’t even bother unlacing my worn tennis shoes before I kicked them off onto the shaggy carpet. Whitney followed after me and tucked herself into my side with her small head on my shoulder. A sleepy yawn escaped her lips.

  Smiling, I pressed a kiss to her hair. With all the fight her body went through, she tended to get tired easier than most children her age. We had a routine of taking a daily nap. I was pretty positive we both needed it.