Totally Inevitable Intent

by Michele Lenard

  A little after lunch, Anthony shows up, and my mom gets really excited. She babbles about the progress we’re making on the cabinets, and I know she’s excited about that, but she’s going a little overboard. Well, she did just go on her first date in, like, ten years, so I guess that’s normal? I wouldn’t know, since I’ve never been on a date, but it must be because Mom is kind of acting like the girls at school after they’ve gone on a date with a boy they like. I so don’t understand this behavior, but whatever.

  Mom and Anthony tell me to wash the brushes out with the hose outside while they make room to work on the arbor. That’s probably just an excuse for them to kiss without me watching, but I don’t want to see that anyway, so I’m happy for the excuse to leave.

  I’m just about finished with the brushes when a tall shadow sweeps over me, and a pair of muscular calves with a dusting of brown hair pauses a few steps away. I look up to see what the deal is and find myself staring into the prettiest pair of amber eyes I’ve ever seen. They’re framed by thick brows and smooth, sun-kissed skin, under a crop of dark hair that’s tousled just enough be called unkempt but not sloppy. I straighten, startled, and find I have to tip my head back to see the stranger’s face, something I don’t often have to do at my height. Not with people around my age, anyway, and this guy seems to be around my age. Well, high school at least. He has full, pink lips that are parted in surprise, just as mine are, and a penetrating gaze that makes my stomach flutter. Maybe I was too quick to say my life doesn’t revolve around boys, because if the boys looked like this, I can see myself thinking of little else.

  The stranger recovers first, holding out his hand for me to shake. “Hi. I’m Wes.”

  Wes, why do I know that name? Oh right. “Anthony’s son?” I place my hand in his and feel a jolt all the way down to my toes.

  He looks at me quizzically. “Yeah. And you are?”

  “Sawyer. Jen’s my mom,” I say, vaguely aware that he’s still holding my hand and not caring in the least.

  “Nice to meet you,” he says. His voice is deep but not serious. It’s nice.

  “You, too. You’ve done a nice job on the house.”

  The corner of his lip ticks up, and the hint of a dimple forms in his left cheek. “Thanks. How come I haven’t seen you here before?”

  “I didn’t have much reason to be here.”

  “But you’re here today?” he prompts, still staring at me intently.

  “Yeah, I’m going to help my mom and Anthony build an arbor for my aunt Lisa’s wedding. We were just painting some cabinets until Anthony got here.” I glance down toward the brushes I dropped to shake his hand and realize with a jolt that I should probably let go of that hand. I let go and bend down to resume cleaning. He bends down with me.

  “Let me help.” I feel another jolt as his fingers graze over mine to take the brushes.

  “So, Jen said you go to Rocky Mountain Academy?” he asks.

  “Yeah.” I nod. Yeah—that’s the extent of your vocabulary?

  “Me, too. I don’t remember seeing you there.”

  “I was a freshman last year. I doubt we were in the same part of the building.”

  “Maybe not. But I might have seen you at assemblies or after school or something.”

  “I’m not that memorable,” I say, to which I think he coughs, but I can’t be sure because he’s looking down at the brushes he’s rinsing. “And I didn’t do much after school besides track.”

  “You like to run?”

  “Yeah.”

  “That’s my least favorite form of exercise.”

  “Really? You look like you get a lot of exercise. I mean run a lot,” I say without thinking and immediately feel my face heat up.

  “I do.” He smirks. “But that doesn’t mean I like it.”

  Just then my mom comes around the corner shouting my name. “Oh, there you are,” she says. “I wondered what was taking so long.”

  “Hi, Jen,” Wes says with a warm smile. “Sorry we were late today. I’ll get started on the floors. I just wanted to introduce myself to Sawyer.” He turns to face me, his smile sweet but sort of distant. “Nice to meet you. I’ll see you around.”

  “Nice to meet you, too,” I say to his back. Then I retreat to the garage to help my mom and Anthony with the arbor.

  *** WES ***

  I feel like I’m walking through a cloud of fog as I make my way back into the house. I just met the most beautiful girl I’ve ever laid eyes on, hands down, and she’s the daughter of our client, who just happens to be the only woman Pop has taken an interest in since my mom died. What are the odds?

  What makes it even worse is Sawyer seems genuinely nice, totally down to earth, and she goes to my school. Not to generalize or anything, but my school is a fairly prestigious private school, and spoiled rich kids make up a sizeable part of the student body. I’m more the exception being that my tuition is partially covered by a football scholarship, and I’ve been fortunate enough to find some teammates with level heads. But most of the girls at my school have never appealed to me because they seem superficial. Not that they aren’t smart or don’t work hard, you actually can’t slack off and stay enrolled, but just overhearing some of their conversations makes me uneasy, and the way they approach me feels insincere. They’re nice enough, I guess, and I’ve been out with a few here and there that I had an okay time with, but it always felt like the goal was to be seen and not to get to know me, whereas it seems like Sawyer was okay with not being seen. Actually, I get the feeling she prefers it. That’s kind of interesting.

  I would’ve liked to talk to her more. I like the way she blushed when she got embarrassed, and I like how she held onto my hand longer than just a quick handshake without realizing it. I especially like her long dark hair and light green eyes with flecks of yellow and amber, and the fact that she’s tall, her head coming nearly to my shoulder. But there’s no way I can take an interest in the daughter of the woman Pop likes. If he dated anyone else over the past decade, maybe it would be different, but he hasn’t, and that means Jen is special. The guy has been alone too long for me to jeopardize his happiness by taking an interest in his girlfriend’s daughter, so she’ll have to be off-limits. That sucks.

  The guys and I make good progress on the floors, and soon enough it’s time to pack up and head out. We have a youth football camp to help run, and since it’s the first day, we have to get there a little early to help parents figure out which group their kids are in. I send everyone ahead while I update my dad on our progress.

  “Hey, Pop.” I poke my head into the garage where he, Jen, and Sawyer are working. “That’s looking good. How much longer ’til you’re finished?” I nod toward the arbor.

  “Not sure,” he says as he wrestles a branch into place. “I’m still trying to figure out the balance between aesthetics and stability.”

  Pop really takes his tinkering seriously, but that’s why he’s in such high demand. He makes some ridiculously cool stuff when he’s playing around with new materials.

  “Okay. I’m headed over to the school. I’ll see you for dinner later. Bye, Jen. Bye, Sawyer.” I try not to let my eyes linger on the long, tan legs underneath her skimpy running shorts.

  “Oh, Wes, wait!” Jen calls. “Sawyer has to get to the school, too. Can you give her a ride? We want to get the frame of the arbor done tonight, and we aren’t finished.”

  “Uh, yeah. Sure,” I say. “Are you ready?” I turn to her.

  “Yeah, I just have to grab my bag from the car.”

  She says goodbye to our parents, grabs her gear, and follows me to my truck where I open the door so she can climb in. “I like your truck,” she says. “I’d like to get a truck when I get my license.”

  “You can’t drive yet?” I ask, surprised. I just assumed she could drive but didn’t have a car.

  “I have my permit now, but I didn’t get it as soon as I turned fifteen, so not ’til February.”

  “When did you turn
fifteen?”

  “Last July.”

  “Why didn’t you get your permit right away?”

  “My mom said there was no point in me getting it unless I wanted to drive anywhere, and since I only went to school and back on the bus, I didn’t need to drive. It was her way of making me get more involved in after-school activities.”

  “Did it work?”

  “Yeah, I joined the track team.” She shrugs.

  “Is a condition of getting your license that you have to stay on the track team?”

  “You understand how my mom works.” Sawyer eyes me approvingly. “Yes, it is, but fortunately I like running, so it worked out.”

  “How many more driving hours do you need?” I ask.

  “Ugh, too many. Between this house project and practice, my schedule doesn’t match up very well with my mom’s, so finding time to finish the hours is hard.”

  “What about your dad? Can he help?”

  “He’s not what you’d call reliable. It’s actually easier to wait on my mom to find free time than for him to find it.”

  “Huh. Well, maybe I can take you?” I offer without thinking. That’s maybe not my brightest idea, since I find Sawyer pretty cute, and I can’t do anything about it.

  “You would do that?” Her mouth drops open, and I inwardly curse for putting my foot in my mouth.

  “Sure, why not?” I shrug. Too late to take it back now. And I might as well make nice with Jen’s daughter on my dad’s behalf.

  “Thanks. So why do you have to go by the school tonight?”

  “I’m helping to run a skills camp for youth football players. We get to run the kids through drills and do some scrimmages. It’s pretty fun. Plus, it looks good for college recruiters, although I don’t really have to focus on that anymore.”

  “You’re a football player?” She cringes.

  “You make that sound bad.” I try to laugh off her reaction.

  “Sorry,” she mumbles. “I just don’t like football.”

  “Seriously? How can you not like football?” No way Jen’s daughter doesn’t like the game.

  “You seem shocked that I don’t. Don’t tell me you’re one of those people who thinks football is superior to other sports.”

  “Um, well, I admit I’m probably biased, but I’m only surprised because your mom loves football. I thought you would, too.”

  “Just because she’s my mom doesn’t mean we’re exactly alike. I actually can’t stand football. I don’t know how she can, either.”

  Things are suddenly very chilly in the car, which is crazy because from the moment we first met, I had a very different impression. I thought she might actually like me. I thought I might like her. But playing football is no reason to dislike someone, and if that’s the way she is, then I don’t want any part of it. That’s probably for the best anyway, because it’s better if I’m not attracted to the daughter of my dad’s girlfriend. I’ll make nice, sure, but she just made it a whole lot easier to avoid the thought of getting to know her better.

  We pull into the school, and I park near the field house where all teams usually meet for practice. She hops out before I can get the door, which is fine by me. I climb out and grab my bag from the bed of the truck.

  “Thanks for the ride,” she calls over her shoulder as she walks away.

  “Sure.” I nod and turn toward the direction of the locker rooms, anxious to put some distance between us. But I don’t move fast enough because evidently we were seen together.

  “Whoa? Who is that?” Ryan corners me at the door, staring in Sawyer’s direction.

  “Jen’s daughter.”

  “She’s gorgeous.” His eyes track her hungrily. “I mean, no surprise since Jen is a good-lookin’ lady, but damn. Tell me you aren’t dating her.”

  “What?”

  “Tell me she’s available,” Ryan pleads.

  “I have no idea. But don’t waste your time.” I open the door and make my way inside as Ryan follows. “She hates football players.”

  Chapter 15

  Jen

  “What else do you have to do in the kitchen?” Lisa asks as she pulls a dress off the rack. I walked her through the house earlier to show her the progress before we came out to search for wedding gowns and bridesmaid dresses.

  “The countertops will go in later this week. I debated doing a waterfall edge, but I think that might be too modern for the space, so I’m just going to bring them out over the edge a bit and add some stools for extra seating. Then once the counters are done, all that’ll be left is the backsplash and some landscaping.”

  “I can’t believe how quickly things went.”

  “I can’t, either. I was really nervous about having Anthony’s son in charge since he’s so young, but he turned out to be great.” Lisa pulls out a simple slip dress in an ivory shade that would look great on her trim figure. “I like that one.”

  She holds it in front of her and assesses her image in the mirror. “Age doesn’t dictate responsibility. You know that. You had a child by eighteen.”

  “I know, I know. But in the end, I didn’t let Wes’s age get in the way, and I’m really glad I didn’t. He’s a great kid, and he did an amazing job.” I pull out a dress in a burgundy color and hold it for Lisa to comment.

  “Not bad. What about eggplant? Since it’s your favorite color, maybe you’ll wear it again another day.”

  “No way.” I shake my head. “It’s your wedding. You pick what you want.”

  She puts the slip dress back on the rack and keeps searching. “So, Wes ended up doing a great job? I’m sure Anthony’s really proud of him,” Lisa says as she pulls out another dress.

  “He should be. He raised a great kid.”

  “So where is Wes? No one was there today.”

  “He’s in California with his friend Ryan for the week. They left this morning.”

  “Does that mean work has stopped?” Lisa flips through the rack.

  “No, Anthony is filling in. But there’s not a ton left at this point, and we’re on schedule, so he and I should be able to make good progress.”

  “The two of you, huh?” She glances not so subtly in my direction.

  “Huh what?” I ask.

  “Well, I was there when you met, and I remember having to pick your jaw up off the ground, so spill it.” Her eyes sparkle.

  “Spill what?” I find an eggplant-colored dress and hold it up. The color does look nice with my dark hair.

  “We talked about Anthony at the house, we’re still talking about him now, and you asked about his story right after you first met him.”

  “We’re talking about Wes now, not Anthony.”

  “Don’t be obstinate. Spill.”

  “Okay, okay. We’ve seen each other more than expected during this project, and I like him.”

  “Like him how?”

  “Well, he’s nice, and he’s very talented, and he’s a really great dad.”

  “None of that explains why you keep bringing him up,” Lisa points out. Sometimes having smart friends is frustrating.

  “He respects me. He has faith in me, and he supports me, and he listens to my ideas without bias.”

  “Oh,” Lisa gasps. “I was expecting you to tell me he’s hot.”

  “I didn’t think you wanted me to state the obvious.” I roll my eyes.

  “I didn’t think you’d have anything else to state.”

  “I guess my comments about men are generally limited to what’s on the surface, historically speaking.”

  “Only because you’ve never given yourself the opportunity to see beyond the surface.”

  “That’s not deliberate, you know.”

  “I know. Trust me, I know you’ve had more people passing judgement than giving you credit in your life. It’s understandable you’d limit your focus to what’s on the surface, so you don’t risk being disappointed. I’m glad Anthony’s different. So, tell me, since he’s different, do you more than like him?” She rea
ches for another dress.

  “Do I more than like him? You sound like one of my students.”

  “Well, I do write children’s books, so…do you more than like him?” Lisa smiles mischievously.

  “Ugh, yes, fine. I more than like him.”

  “Good for you.” She hugs me tightly, her eyes going wide when she pulls back, which I know means her wheels are spinning. “He should be your date to the wedding. And you should try that dress on.” She points to the eggplant one still in my hand.

  “What? The wedding’s, like, two months from now. It’s way too early to be thinking that far ahead.” I shake my head.

  “You think you’ll have moved on from the first guy you dated in ten years that quickly?” She pulls a dress with a fitted bodice and full skirt from the rack.

  “It’s not that simple. I like Anthony, but we’ve both been single a long time, and we’ve both got kids and careers to think about. Let’s just see how it goes.”

  “Ugh, you’re no fun.” Lisa pouts. “I know, bring him to watch the fireworks. Sawyer’s still going to be in Costa Rica with Colt, and I know you don’t like the idea of coming by yourself. Bring Anthony.”

  “Okay, fine. I’ll see if he can go. Now will you leave it alone?”

  “Yes. Now, tell me about your career, then. Any job interviews?” she asks as we take our dresses into the changing rooms.

  “Actually, there is one,” I holler over the door. “It won’t amount to anything—it’s in Longmont, and that’s too far a commute to do daily—but I figure a practice interview couldn’t hurt.”

  “That makes sense. You could see what types of questions they ask and see which answers resonate.”