Sawyer Says Read online

  I move toward him, wrapping my arms around his waist and tucking my head under his chin. His arms hesitate before banding around me tightly. Beau is the closest thing I ever had to a brother. He holds me until Miss Bess pops her head into the kitchen to ask if we need any help.

  Beau drops his arms and replies, “Nope, just about done.”

  After everything is clean and dried, I follow him out to the front room where the adults are gathered. The kids are across the hall playing Uno on the dining room table.

  “They’ll be going to bed soon,” Beau nods in their direction.

  “It’s so early,” I argue, my body disagreeing as I stifle a yawn.

  “Are you tired, Sawyer?” Bess asks, watching me.

  “A bit,” I admit.

  “I’ll walk you over to your cabin,” Beau says, taking my hand.

  He follows me in briefly to make sure I’m settled and to double-check if I need anything. Once I assure him I’m fine and he leaves, I call Jared.

  I smile when he answers on the first ring. “Sawyer?”

  “Who else?” I tease.

  There’s a pause. “How are you?”

  I’ve never been good at lying. “I miss you.”

  “I can fly out tomorrow if you say the word.”

  I still can’t lie even though I wish right now that I could. “I need to do this on my own.”

  He huffs, “Why? I get that you’re independent and can take care of yourself. I’m not trying to change that. I only want to be there for you.”

  “I know. I just…” My voice trails off.

  “It’s okay, but if you change your mind, I’ll be on the first flight.”

  I tell him the little bit I learned of my grandmother and that Beau’s mom is coming to see me tomorrow to talk some more. He asks about Beau. I wonder if he is worrying that I’ll seek comfort in him because he’s here. I can’t think of a way to ease his potential concern without implying something that may not even exist.

  We linger on the phone, long after all conversation ends. After exhaustion finally prompts me to say goodbye, I fall asleep stubbornly hugging the phone. I wish I were in Jared’s arms instead.

  When I wake to find it still pressed to my chest, I groan at my own lameness. I’m stronger than this. Deciding a shower will clear my mind, I head straight to the bathroom. The plumbing is dated. I start to wonder at my own intelligence until I finally figure out how to get the shower going with hot water.

  I don’t bother drying my hair, twisting it up into a loose pink bun that doesn’t match the pale blonde growth of the rest of my hair but still works somehow. My wrist doesn’t feel as sore today, so I decide to skip my guard for the day. Since it isn’t broken, I don’t need to wear it that long. Besides, I can always put it back on later.

  I can only assume everyone at the main house has finished breakfast before I even woke up. I rummage through the small kitchen and am pleasantly surprised to find it stocked with your standard fare. I scramble an egg and make some toast. I brought tea with me so I boil some water in a small pot. I’ve just finished and am cleaning when Lynn knocks.

  “Good morning,” I smile, holding the door for her.

  She kisses my cheek as she passes in front of me. I follow her to the timeworn loveseat in front of the wood stove. Tucking my feet under me, I wait for her to speak first.

  “I loved your mother like she was my sister. When your parents moved to the farm, we were inseparable.”

  I try to picture them together, maybe slowly walking after Beau and me as we tear off into the orchard.

  “Your parents loved you very much.”

  I give her a tight smile. “I know.”

  She reaches over to squeeze my hand. “Of course you do. This farm will always be your home. I hope you know how much we all still love you, darling.”

  Always be my home.

  Hearing those words is like she just smoothed a Band-Aid across the skinned knee that is my fragile heart. “But my grandmother…”

  She senses the uncertainty in my statement. “Agnes Sterling was something else. I don’t know why she sent you away, but I do know, after she was certain we weren’t after you for some nefarious purpose, she relaxed. That has to say something.”

  “Did she know I was happy here?” I ask.

  “I hope so. She wasn’t the most forthcoming.”

  “But if she knew that, why didn’t she just let me come back here?” I argue.

  “I can only theorize, Sawyer, because only she truly knows the answer to that question, but I know she wasn’t pleased with your father’s decision to move here.”

  “I get that she could feel that way before she understood the work you do, but why after?”

  “It was maybe six months after you left that she came to visit. Is it possible she didn’t want to disrupt you further? That you were settling into your new home.”

  I shrug, not wanting to lie but not able to agree with the logic in her words verbally either. “What was she like?”

  She pauses, thinking about it. “The only way I can think of to describe her is as a force of nature. Taking no for an option was not a possibility for her. Once she was satisfied we weren’t up to no good, she tried to take over.”

  “What?” I ask, confused.

  “Not really, but it felt like it at the time. That woman had opinions for everything and had no problem giving them to us whether we asked for them or not.”

  “Did she know stuff about farming?”

  Lynn laughs. “Not as much as she thought she did.”

  “Why do you think she didn’t keep me?”

  Lynn’s face falls. “I don’t know, sweetie.”

  After she leaves, I almost call Jared, but it’s still early and I don’t want to wake him. I’m lost in my thoughts when I hear a knock on the door. Glancing at the clock, I realize I’ve missed lunch. I pad toward the door, trying to ignore the grumble of my annoyed stomach.

  “Hey, Beau.”

  He takes one look at me. “You okay?”

  “I forgot to eat lunch. Do I have time to inhale something?”

  “Sit,” he gently commands. “I’ll make you something.”

  I start to argue, but he cuts me off. So, I plod over to the loveseat, slump into it, and watch him. In no time, he carries over a plate with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich on it.

  “Thank you,” I say, before taking a bite.

  He shrugs as if it’s no big deal. In that moment, unexpected anger pools within me as I mourn the relationship Beau and I never had. I coveted the bond my best friend Sarah had with her brother, Brian. Something tells me if I had never left, that could have been Beau and me.

  He fills the silence by telling me what he did over the morning while I visited with his mom. There’s pride in his tone as he tells me about fixing an old tractor. After I finish my food and set the plate in the sink to wash later, we leave.

  “Any hints as to where we’re going?” I joke.

  His face is solemn. “It’s a special place.”

  We drive in the direction of his parents’ cabin but turn off onto another worn dirt road before we reach it. We’re headed toward the far edge of the orchard. It’s familiar, dawning on me before I can see the simple headstones.

  I reach out for the door handle, already squeezing it even though we haven’t stopped.

  “Are they...?” I ask, staring out the window.

  I hear his gulp. When the truck stops, I tumble out and rush over to the small grouping of graves. Tears cloud my eyes, but they don’t stop me from finding them. Their stone rests near the apple trees. The limbs are bare now, but knowing they shade my parents feels right. I sink to my knees in front of their shared headstone and let my tears fall freely.

  Beau kneels next to me and puts his arm around my shoulders.

  “I never even thought to ask where they were buried. Was there even a funeral? Why wasn’t I at my own parents’ funeral?”

  He looks away. “T
he headstone is more of a place to come mourn them. Funds were tight. It took a couple years for my folks to get it. I don’t think there were any remains.”

  “Remains.” I gulp down the bile crawling up my throat. “Of course.”

  “Shit. I’m sorry, Huck.”

  “Can I have a minute?”

  He shifts to his feet and walks away.

  My index finger traces their etched names on the cold stone. “Hi, Mom, Dad.”

  Words like tears pour from me. I tell them how much I miss them, how much I’ll always miss them. How I hope that, no matter what, they would be proud of the person I am today. I tell them about Jared, Sarah, and my yoga studio. I don’t stop talking even though my throat starts to hurt and cold seeps from the ground through my knees, making my whole body shake.

  After I run out of stories to tell them, Beau comes back to sit with me. He gently tugs me to his side, and we sit together a while longer.

  “The quote?” I ask.

  “I think it’s Robert Frost. My dad would know for sure.”

  “I found a book of his poems in my dad’s old room,” I pause, looking forward again. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

  Beau drops me back off at the cabin afterward. I need to be by myself, and he seems, instinctively, to know. I climb the ladder and sit on the bed in the loft. There’s a port-style circular window overlooking this side of the orchard. My parents’ stone is on the other side. There are too many trees even to hope to see the small cemetery, but somehow it gives me comfort just knowing it’s there.

  I wonder if they ever took my grandmother there, and what her reaction was to it if they did. If Lynn is at dinner tonight, I’ll ask her, or maybe Bess knows. I came here to try to learn more about my past, but somehow I’m being left with even more unanswered questions than what I started with.

  The buzz of my cell sends me clamoring down the ladder for it.

  I glance at the screen before answering. “Jared?”

  His voice cloaks me in warmth to where I can almost feel his arms around me.

  “How are you?” I ask, not wanting him to stop talking.

  He misses me but wants to give me the space I need. Carmen’s cousin called the house phone. He’s calling to give me her number and tell me what her message said. Apparently, Carmen is in poor health, now living with her in Arizona.

  Before we hang up, he says, “Know nothing has changed for me.”

  He still loves me.

  I can’t say the words back. I don’t know how.

  “Jared,” I start.

  “We’ll talk later.” And he’s gone.

  I rush to hang up with her. There is shit she needs to deal with and me begging her to come home will do nothing but interfere with that. The ache of her absence still throbs within my gut every day, but I can’t hold her back.

  She needs to find out why her grandmother did what she did. I only hope that once she knows, it won’t haunt her anymore. As much as I miss her, I understand now why she needs to do this. As crazy as my mom is, I’ve always known she loves me. My dad balances her crazy by being this rock I can always lean on.

  Sawyer has Sarah and me. I know we are no less there for her than my parents are for me, but I get that it’s different. She went years not feeling that. From what Carmen’s sister said in the message, I hope Sawyer gets there in time to talk to her.

  The worst-case scenario is if she isn’t able to find out what happened. I feel shitty for ending the call like I did, though. I pull on my coat and head to the door. I’ll swing by the studio and check in with John. He’s a good guy. I’ll text some pictures to Sawyer and let her know I’m thinking of her.

  John is locking up when I pull up.

  “Hey, John,” I call out, hopping out of Sawyer’s Hummer.

  I took it so I could fill it up for her before she gets home. When she gets home.

  “Jared.” John holds out his hand, grinning.

  “I’m glad I caught you. Would it be cool if I took some pictures to send to Sawyer? She has a lot going on. I think they’d cheer her up.”

  “Sure, man.” He turns and unlocks the door. “I’ll show you what we finished up today.”

  After warning me where paint is drying, he shows me around the studio. The floors, walls, and cabinets are done.

  “Dude, this looks great,” I say, pulling out my phone.

  “We need to do a bit more in the bathrooms but should be done soon. Do you know when Sawyer will be back?”

  I shake my head. “She should be on her way to Arizona. A family friend is ill.”

  “That’s too bad. She’d be thrilled to see all the progress we’ve made. We even managed to get that giant table of Catherine’s in.”

  “I can let her know next time we talk. It was a table? Like a massage table?”

  “Yep, want to see it? It weighed a ton.”

  Somehow I assumed getting a facial would be like getting a hair cut, in a chair. “I didn’t know they do the facials lying down.

  “Facials?”

  I shrug. “Cleans out pores, I guess.”

  We share a look. Women.

  After talking to Marie, Carmen’s cousin, it’s clear I need to leave right away. I let her know I’ll book the next flight and call her once I land. Beau is standing in front of the door when I open it. It’s almost dinnertime.

  “Can I use your computer?”

  “Everything okay?”

  I explain on the way over, and he takes me right up to his upstairs office. I book the first flight to Tucson I can find and quickly say goodbye to everyone before Lynn and Beau take me back to the cabin to pack.

  “I’m so sorry about this,” I say, cramming clothes into my suitcase.

  “Don’t worry your pretty little head, darling. This won’t be the last time we’re together. I’m sure of it.”

  On the way to the airport, she confirms my suspicion. When my grandmother visited, they took her to visit my parents’ headstone. She knew it existed and never told me. Hate is an emotion I normally only reserve for people who prey on those weaker than themselves.

  How can I hate my own grandmother?

  There isn’t time to linger once we reach the airport. I give a quick hug and kiss to both Lynn and Beau, and I make my way to security. Once my suitcase is on the belt, I glance back at them to wave one last time. Beau’s arm is around his mom’s shoulders.

  It strikes me at that moment our roles could easily have been reversed. His father had also been a small craft pilot. It could have been his parents. Beau could have lost his parents instead of me losing mine. What ifs are dangerous to accepting the life that you have. History was not meant to be rewritten. I can only live in my present.

  When I reach my gate, I call Jared to let him know. He doesn’t ask if he should get a flight and meet me there. It doesn’t bother me, though, because I know he would come if I asked. He updates me on the studio progress. Our doors will be ready to open in less than a week whether I’m there or not. I end the call when my plane starts boarding.

  As we prep for takeoff, I think of all of the ways Jared takes care of me. I’m used to being the one who takes care of everyone else. It’s what I do well. I’m a problem solver. I’m independent. People need me more than I need them. I don’t need anyone. I don’t.

  When we land, I rent a car. It has GPS, and it saves Marie from having to get someone to come get me. Also, the forty-five minute drive will give me a chance to charge my cell. I plug my nearly dead phone into its car charger and call Marie and text Jared before I leave.

  I’m making great time until I see the flashing red and blue lights in my rearview mirror. Shit, how fast was I going? Couldn’t have been that fast. I pull over onto the shoulder and kill the engine.

  The police officer looks like Seth Rogen. I suck my lips to avoid laughing when I think about the movie Super Bad. Different kind of cop, different kind of cop, I repeat to myself internally.

  “Do you know why I pulled you
over?” he asks after asking to see my license and registration.

  I shake my head.

  “I clocked you going sixty-nine in a fifty-five.”

  Sixty-nine? Don’t laugh. Don’t laugh.

  “That’s almost reckless speeding.”

  Shit. That sobers me up. I do not need another one of those on my license.

  I’ve also learned over the years that police officers don’t want to hear your sob stories. Unless you are in labor or some other similar type emergency, they don’t care.

  I sit quietly while he writes my ticket. I wait for him to pull out first then go. It would suck to be pulled over twice in the same day, so I use cruise control the rest of the way.

  Marie lives in a small retirement community. I pass condos and a hospital-like retirement home before finding her street. She lives in a house. It’s a small, adobe-style ranch.

  It’s late. I start to feel guilty for showing up at this hour, but I don’t want to miss an opportunity to talk with Carmen again. There’s a light on in the front room, and I see the curtain move as I pull my suitcase up the front walkway.

  A woman, who I can only assume is Marie, opens the door before I have a chance to knock.

  “Hello, Sawyer.”

  She could be Carmen’s twin. The family resemblance takes me back to my school days in Canada.

  “Hello, Marie. Thank you so much for letting me stay with you.”

  “Is nothing. Come, come.”

  She reaches for my suitcase, and I follow her into the house after quietly closing the door behind me. She points to Carmen’s room and holds her finger to her lips to let me know she is sleeping before showing me my room.

  The time difference zaps any energy I have. I don’t even bother changing before collapsing into bed.

  I wake to hushed voices the next morning. After popping into the bathroom to freshen up, I go find them. They’re both in the room Marie gestured to the night before. Carmen is sitting up in a hospital-style bed as Marie sits in a chair next to her and feeds her what looks like oatmeal.

  Where Marie looks like the Carmen of my memories, Carmen herself looks so different. Her once raven hair is now full white. She never left her room without her hair done and her fire engine red lipstick. Now her skin’s pale, her lips dry. She used to have beautiful hands, and I would keep her company while she painted her nails. They’re now gnarled, her knuckles sticking up like cracked roots around an ancient tree.