Totally Inevitable Intent

by Michele Lenard

  “Okay,” I drawl. “So he’s capable of being happy now, and that makes you happy. Got it,” I state, wondering where this was going. I mean, maybe he doesn’t have any reason to think he’d suffer if his dad gets involved with someone, but I don’t have that same luxury. “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Do you remember your parents together?” He changes the subject.

  “Not really.”

  “I don’t, either. Not much, anyway, so I haven’t seen my dad really happy that often. But I’ve seen him lonely most of my life, and that’s with me in the picture. This is my last year at home. What happens when I’m not here? Who will he have to talk to? Will he do anything but work? I’ve thought about not taking my scholarship tons of times so I can stay here and be closer to him, but he’d never let me do that. Still, how can I deliberately leave him alone, you know? Then he met your mom, and for the first time, I felt okay about leaving, because he wouldn’t be alone.”

  Wes looks at me pleadingly, those amber eyes almost glassy. “I don’t want him to be alone, Sawyer. Without your mom, I’m afraid he will be. Permanently. I don’t think he can survive another broken heart. No, I don’t mean he’d do anything drastic.” He shakes his head when he sees my eyes go wide. “But I do think a second broken heart would leave him with a scar that could never heal. He’ll be a lonely shell of himself for the rest of his life.”

  “And you want me to fix that,” I say, realization dawning.

  “You’re the one holding the grudge about this video.” He shrugs. “I get why you are. I mean, I don’t get it, but I understand your dad’s actions have left their own scars on you, and just like my dad was, you’re avoiding anything that might leave more scars. I can sort of understand that, but since I don’t really have scars like that, I don’t know how scary it is to risk getting more of them. But I can’t help thinking that maybe for some things the risk is worth it?”

  Wow, it’s scary how accurately he can read me. I am avoiding scars. It’s bad enough that he’s almost too beautiful to look at; the idea that he can understand what I didn’t actually say is truly unsettling. But if he can read me so well, how can he think I’d believe some things are worth more scars?

  “What things are worth that risk?” I ask stiffly.

  “Our parents’ happiness.”

  “You really think they make each other that happy?”

  “I think my dad’s happier with your mom than I’ve seen him since my mom died. And yeah, after watching them work together over the summer, I think they do make each other pretty happy.”

  “You think she loves him, too, don’t you?” I study him.

  “Yeah. Yeah, I do.” He nods. “Don’t you think that?”

  “I’ve never seen my mom in love before.” I shrug awkwardly. “I don’t know how to tell.”

  “Okay,” Wes processes. “How ‘bout this, has she ever seemed as happy or excited about another guy?”

  That’s when it hits me, and I feel like the world’s biggest idiot. “There haven’t been any other guys,” I say softly.

  “Ever?” Wes asks.

  I shake my head, too embarrassed to speak. How had I not put that together before? I mean, part of me was aware that she hadn’t dated after divorcing my dad and that Anthony was the first guy she’s ever really dated, but I never considered the significance of that. I was just glad she didn’t have much interest in dating before, since Dad’s dating was so awkward to live with.

  “Then she loves him, too,” Wes says softly.

  That’s when I feel the tears threaten to fall.

  “It’s okay.” Wes puts his arm around me. “You didn’t realize.”

  “I should have.” I sniff. “I was too angry and afraid to notice my own mom fell in love. Oh God. Dad even tried to tell me this last week, but…it was my dad. I didn’t think he knew what he was talking about, so I ignored him. I ignored everything because I didn’t want things with my mom to change. I was afraid of her becoming like him and didn’t even think about her feelings.”

  “It’s okay, Sawyer. You were protecting yourself, same as my dad has done for years.”

  “But now everyone is unhappy because of me.” I sob.

  “That doesn’t have to be permanent, Sawyer. You can fix this.”

  “How?” I squeak.

  “Forgive them. Tell your mom not to move. Whatever. It’s easy.”

  “It’s not.” I shake my head. “Mom took a job in Longmont. The house is already sold.”

  I see the color drain from Wes’s face, and it hits me then just how much faith he had that I could fix things. My stomach lurches as I watch him take a shaky breath, trying to process that it’s too late. Then his brow furrows and his grip on my shoulder tightens.

  “It can still work,” Wes insists. “Longmont isn’t that far, so they can do the long-distance thing for a while. Hell, my dad would probably even move there if he has to.”

  “What about you?” I shriek. “Your life is here. Your dad can’t move to Longmont.”

  “I’m leaving in a year anyway, remember?” He lets go of me and shrugs. “I can probably crash with friends to finish out school if I have to.”

  “But your dad’s business is here."

  “Then he’ll commute. Or your mom can commute to Longmont. There are several options.”

  “What are you saying?” I sniff.

  “I’m saying we need to get our parents back together, whatever it takes. But that starts with you. Are you in?”

  “Okay. I’m in. How do we do this?”

  “We get them together. Is your mom picking you up?”

  “If it was Mom’s day, she’d have been here twenty minutes ago.” I sigh.

  “Actually, that works in our favor. Tell her your dad didn’t show. I’ll get my dad here, too.”

  “We’re doing this now?” I squeak. “I’m not sure I’m ready.”

  “Sawyer, you just told me the house is sold. We don’t have lots of time.”

  “Okay, okay. You’re right.” I sniff. “I’ll just text my dad.” I look up just as his sleek sports car is pulling into the lot. Typical. He pulls up to the curb and steps out, eyeing Wes skeptically.

  “Anthony’s kid, right?” he asks.

  “Yes, sir,” Wes replies. I notice his eyes widen a fraction as he realizes who he’s talking to, but then it’s gone, replaced with the same determination he showed when trying to convince me to get our parents back together.

  Dad looks at me curiously. “Is he the reason for the tears?”

  “No. Yes, but not like you think. Wes helped me realize how much it would hurt Mom and Anthony if they aren’t together. I need to fix things for Mom.”

  “You sure?” Dad asks me, and I know it’s because he tried to convince me of the same thing. But I wasn’t ready to listen then. Not to him anyway, which is another issue altogether, but one to think about another time.

  “I’m sure.”

  “Okay.” He nods. “What’s the plan?”

  “You’re okay with this?” Wes asks, shocked.

  “Damn right. Your dad’s good for Jen. It’s time she stopped trying to convince herself otherwise.”

  “Yes, sir.” Wes smiles, relieved. Then he noticeably stiffens. “Um, actually the plan was to make her come pick up Sawyer. We were going to say you never showed up.” He shrinks, waiting for my dad to take offense. But he doesn’t.

  “I guess I set myself up for that one.” Dad winces, shaking his head. “It’s a good plan. Go ahead.” He turns to me. “You’ll call if you need me to come back?”

  “I will,” I say.

  “Okay. I know this isn’t easy, but I think you’re doing the right thing for your mom.” He hugs me.

  “Thanks, Dad.” I hug him back, then he gets in his car and drives off. Wes’s eyes follow the retreating car curiously.

  “What?” I ask.

  “I’m having trouble picturing the guy the city loves for his dedication to the game as the
same one who’s your unreliable dad.” He shakes his head as if to clear it. “I was expecting a total jerk.”

  “He’s never a jerk. He just more kid than adult, and he’s oblivious to how that can be hurtful. That’s what gets me so mixed up all the time.”

  “Still, it’s pretty cool that he supports us setting our parents up."

  “Yeah, it is,” I agree, thinking that maybe Dad is kind of growing up a little after all. I take a deep breath and dial my phone. “Okay, let’s do this.”

  Chapter 26

  Anthony

  I stare at the drawing in front of me, which looks exactly as it did yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that, going on four days now. Or is it five? I’m not sure at this point. I just know that I’ve been staring blankly at the same sheet of paper for far too long, but damn if there’s anything I can do to fix it. My mind can’t focus. Hell, it barely functions.

  I recognize this, sort of. I know grief, heartbreak, emptiness. But they are infinitely worse now than before.

  I know how backward that sounds. Most people would assume the death of a spouse is the ultimate heartbreak, and at the time it happened to me I would have agreed. But Katie didn’t choose to leave me. She wouldn’t have, and there’s some strange comfort in knowing that she’d always choose to be with me. I had hoped to find the same thing with Jen, thought I had, and while I never expected her to choose me over her daughter, I definitely expected that she’d fight for us. Knowing that she can’t, or won’t, hurts worse because that’s her choice. She’s still out there, yet she’s unavailable, and that’s harder to reconcile than death.

  I’m still trying to wrap my head around her decision, and no matter what I try to focus on in place of Jen, my mind inevitably drifts back to her and what she gave up without a fight. Maybe she really didn’t love me. Cared for me, sure. But love? I think if she felt that way, she’d have at least tried.

  The lines on the paper blur together, and I throw my pencil down in frustration. This is futile. I pinch the bridge of my nose to relieve the pain growing behind my eyes. What I really need is a bourbon, but I’m afraid if I use that to dull the headache now, it will quickly become a habit later, and drinking is one thing I won’t do to cope. I made that vow after a drunk driver stole Katie, and while I’ve indulged now and then over the years, I know better than to do it in my current state. That doesn’t make the desire go away, though.

  The phone interrupts my brooding. I check the screen and see the call is from Wes. Odd, he should’ve been home by now.

  “Wes, everything okay?” I ask, hoping I sound more stable than I feel.

  “Yeah, but something’s wrong with the truck. I’ve been trying forever, and I can’t get it started. Can you come to the school and take a look?”

  I close my eyes and pinch my nose again, the headache threatening to unleash. What else can go wrong?

  “Cars aren’t really my thing, Wes. Should I call a tow truck?”

  “I’d hate to do that if we don’t have to. Can you please just come take a look? I think it might be the battery.”

  “Sure,” I sigh. “I’m on my way.”

  Ten minutes later, I pull into the lot and park next to Wes’s truck in case it needs a jump. I grab jumper cables from my own truck and walk around to open the hood when I notice Sawyer getting out of the passenger side of the cab. What the hell? Just then, a red SUV pulls into the lot and slows to a crawl, coming to rest in the aisle. I feel my heart starting to pound in my chest as anxiety envelopes me. I have a sinking feeling I’m being set up, and it's making me damn uneasy.

  Jen slowly exits her car, looking as wary as I feel. She must be in the dark, too.

  “Thanks for coming,” Wes says as he and Sawyer come to stand between us.

  “I didn’t have a choice,” Jen says quietly, glancing nervously between me and Sawyer. Wes puts his hand on Sawyer’s back and nods, almost in encouragement.

  “I took it away from you,” Sawyer squeaks. “Just like I took away your choice to be with Anthony.”

  “Wha…what are you talking about?” Jen stutters, confused. I look between her and Sawyer, unsure myself where this is going.

  “I made you pick,” Sawyer says. “You’ve always been the responsible one, always put me first to make up for the mistakes Dad made, and after that video, I thought you’d become like Dad, and that scared me. So I made you pick. And you had to pick me.”

  “I know that, Sawyer,” Jen assures her. “I’d do anything for you.”

  “I know you would.” I notice a tear run down Sawyer’s cheek. “But now you have to do something for you. And I have to let you.”

  “What are you saying?” Jen asks. Her eyes are shiny, and I look away before I see the tears fall.

  “I’m saying I don’t want you to put your life on hold because I got scared.” She turns to me. “I’m sorry. I know now that you love her. I don’t want you to break up because of me.” Wes puts his arm around her and squeezes reassuringly as her tears began to flow.

  “We didn’t,” I say softly.

  “Huh?” Sawyer balks. “But I made her pick me over you.”

  “Any good mother would do that, Sawyer,” I tell her. I chance a look at Jen and see tears trickling down her face. It guts me. But it doesn’t change anything. “We broke up because she doesn’t love me.”

  “But…but that can’t be true,” Sawyer objects.

  “It is. When you’re in love with someone, you don’t run away from them. Your mom is running away.” I hear Jen choke back a sob, but don’t look at her. I can’t. It still hurts too much.

  “She’s running away for me,” Sawyer cries. “I made her do that.”

  “Sawyer, this is probably hard to understand, but you don’t make your mom do anything she doesn’t want to do. No one does,” I tell her gently.

  “But I did make her,” she protests. “I accused her of being like Dad. I knew she’d hate that.”

  “She did hate that. It scared her enough that she’s willing to run away to prove she isn’t like him. Her fear outweighs her feelings for me.” I can’t stop myself from glancing at Jen as the words leave my mouth, and I see her close her eyes, an admission that I’m right. I already knew that, but it still hurts to have it confirmed.

  “That doesn’t mean she doesn’t love you,” Sawyer cries, looking frantically between me and her sobbing mother.

  “Yeah, Sawyer, it does. She cares for me, but if she loved me, she wouldn’t run. She’d look for another solution, one that works for all of us.” I shake my head slowly. “I’m sorry.” I turn toward my car, desperate to put as much distance as possible between me and the pain I’m feeling from this conversation. But I halt mid-stride when Wes roars, “Stop.”

  “You.” He points at me. “I am not going to let you walk away from Jen because you’re too proud to find out how she really feels. And you.” He points at Jen. “I am not going to let you walk away from him because you’re too scared to tell him. Sawyer put herself out there today so you guys wouldn’t make the biggest mistake of your lives. The least you can do is respect that by actually talking to each other. If that doesn’t change anything, fine, at least you would’ve tried, and at least now you’ll be able to talk knowing Sawyer and I both want this.” He looks at me. “Sawyer and I are going to our house. We’ll see you guys there later. Or if not, I’ll drive her home. But we brought you here to talk, and you’re not leaving until you do. Come on, Sawyer.”

  I watch, stunned, as Wes guides a teary-eyed Sawyer to his truck and drives off. I look at Jen, catching the bewildered look on her tear-stained face, and my heart lurches. She’s obviously hurting and just as confused by Wes’s rant as I am. And even though she doesn’t love me, I still hate to see that. But I don’t know what to do about it. How do you comfort someone who broke your heart? And how are you supposed to respond when your kids reprimand you like that? After what feels like hours, I finally manage, “You seem as speechless as I am.�
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  “Yeah.” She sniffs, wiping at her red eyes. “I guess they told us, huh?”

  “I guess so. When did they become close?”

  “I didn’t realize they were.” She wipes at her eyes again. “I suppose I haven’t been paying attention.”

  “Neither of us were,” I acknowledge, for the first time considering my own actions in all of this. If Wes and Sawyer could become close without me realizing it, then I haven’t been doing a good job as a parent. Jen may have missed that, too, but she’s running away now because she’s trying to be a good parent, and even though I disagree with her decision, I have to respect where it comes from. I have to acknowledge that she never forgot her first job is to be a good mother, while I’ve maybe been acting like a spurned lover instead of a father.

  “So they want us to kiss and make up?” She hesitates.

  “Looks that way.” I stroke my chin.

  “But you don’t want to do that?” Her voice cracks as she interprets my movements.

  “I don’t know.” I sigh. “The first woman to break my heart didn’t want to do it, and she would have fixed it if she could. The second woman to break my heart might not have wanted to do it, but I think she could have avoided it, if she wanted to. I don’t know how to accept that.”

  “Makes sense,” Jen whispers as the tears she’s been struggling to hold back fall liberally from her eyes. She doesn’t correct me, and a fresh wave of pain engulfs me as I realize I’m right. Or am I? If she deserves empathy from anyone, it’s a fellow single parent, so it’d be hypocritical of me to condemn her for putting her child first or assuming that makes me last by default. Maybe it’s not that black and white.

  “On the other hand,” I venture, “it’s because she was trying so hard to be a good mother that she broke my heart in the first place, and I can respect that.”

  “You can?” She blinks back more tears.

  “Of course, I respect it. But it scares the shit out of me,” I admit.

  “Why?” she asks softly.

  “Because I’m not sure there’s room in your heart for both Sawyer and me.”