Nothing Super [COMPLETED]

A Summer Night

Taylor perked up as she heard the low thrum of an engine. When the sound cut off, she scrambled off her bed and bolted for her door. As she clambered down the stairs, the front door opened and Weston stepped inside. He just barely shut the door when Taylor collided with him, wrapping her arms around his waist. He stumbled back, laughing.

"Don't act too eager," he said, hugging her back. "I might actually think that you missed me."

Taylor stepped back and hit his arm. "Where have you been? It's been ages since you came home." She hit him again for good measure.

Weston caught her wrists before she could bruise his arm.

"Tay, relax, I'm fine."

"Yeah, and how were we supposed to know that?"

"I texted you two days ago, I think that's solid evidence that I was fine."

Taylor reluctantly relented. "Fine."

She hugged him again.

"I missed you too, Tay."

"You didn't bring Veronica, did you?" Taylor asked, crossing her arms and eyeing the door like Veronica might be hiding just behind it.

"Wow, that sounds like you don't like my girlfriend."

"No, I just want you all to myself. It has been two weeks since you've been here after all."

Weston ruffled Taylor's hand and she smacked him away.

"Don't worry, I didn't invite Ronnie," he said.

Taylor gave a dramatic sigh of relief. "Oh thank goodness!"

"Hey! That's my girlfriend you're disrespecting."

Weston reached to grab Taylor but she darted away, heading for the kitchen. Weston chased after her, but Taylor pulled the oldest trick in the book and took cover behind their mother. Weston slowed as their mother beamed up at him.

"Hi, sweetheart," she said.

"Hi, mom," he said, embracing her.

When Weston pulled back, he sniffed the air. "Is dad trying to grill again?"

Taylor and her mother exchanged a glance.

"I'll go help," Weston said.

Before her mother could put her to work, Taylor trailed after Weston. She hadn't been lying when she said it had been ages since he had been home. Okay, two weeks wasn't ages but to her it was. For most of her life, she felt like she was waiting for the times he'd be home. The big age difference meant that by the time she hit middle school he was already going away to college.

"Hey, dad," Weston said.

Their father started, looking up from the book he was reading. None of them ever wondered why their food tasted charred.

"Wes," their father said, pulling his son into a warm hug.

Weston broke away just in time to flip the burgers, keeping them from being burned. Their father started like he'd forgotten he was grilling.

"Thanks," he said. "What case on you working on now?"

Taylor plopped down onto the warm lawn to listen. The air smelled of cooking meat and sunburned grass. The smell of summer. Weston settled by the grill, gesturing for his father to sit down as he talked. Taylor loved the cadence of his voice, it rose and fell like the whisper of the ocean.

Eventually, Taylor's mother called her into the house to help carry out plates and condiments. Grudgingly, she went, though she made Weston promise he wouldn't tell any more about the case while she was gone. With his promise, Taylor raced to carry everything out, setting it hurriedly on the picnic table under their single tree.