by Liz Durano
“I know she’s awesome or I wouldn’t have let her rent one of my properties.” I pause. That sounds like such a dick move. But offering the place for free would have been worse, and Alma’s always been independent. “She’s my best friend’s wife, Dax, and I’ve known her for a long time. I just want her and Tyler to be happy.”
Dax exhales. “It must have been hard, losing her husband like that. And to have Tyler right after.”
“Yeah, it was. I just want to do what I can to make her life easier.”
Dax eyes me for a few moments before nodding. “I hope this works out for her,” he says. “She and Harlow really get along.”
“I’m glad. I kinda failed at introducing her to everyone.”
Dax pours dishwasher detergent into the slot. “That’s okay. After Todd told us you were driving back with a single mom and her baby, we kinda were expecting her. I mean, she’s a neighbor, man. We neighbors stick together, don’t we?”
“Yeah yeah yeah,” I mutter as I shut the dishwasher door and press the button, needing to change the subject. “Is this thing giving you any problems?”
Dax shakes his head. “Nah, it’s been good since we routed it to the septic tank.”
“One less thing to worry about then.” While water from the bathroom sinks and tubs get filtered for plant use and then the toilet bowl, the kitchen sink and dishwasher water now goes straight into the septic tank. With all the rich New Mexican dishes Dax and Harlow have been learning to cook courtesy of his grandmother, the plants don’t need extra doses of green chile.
“Anyway, let’s go join the ladies before they think we’re being anti-social,” he says, drying his hands.
“That’ll be the day, “ I say, laughing, “Mr. Congeniality.”
“Look who’s talking, Mr. Deep in Denial. It’s a river in Egypt, you know.”
Denial? What denial?
Before I can ask him what he means, Dax walks away and joins Harlow and Alma filling a basket with kumquats and other fruit from their indoor garden. But then, of course, I know what he means. But it doesn’t change the fact that Alma is still my best friend’s wife and there’s no way I’m stepping over that line.
I just have to keep telling myself that.
10
Alma
“You look beautiful today,” Sawyer tells me as we take a stroll outside the Pearl.
“Thank you.” With the kids still napping and the kumquats and vegetables all bagged for me to take home, I have some time to kill. I’m also not too eager to go home to an empty Willow. Not yet.
“I’m sorry for not introducing you to Harlow and Dax sooner.”
“It’s okay. You told them about me and that’s good enough,” I say, following him as he walks up the bermed part of the house. He offers his hand and I take it, allowing him to lead me up to the top of the hill which basically covers the north side of the Pearl, serving as insulation. From here, we take a look at the landscape around us. “It’s beautiful out here. Like, high desert beautiful.”
“I’m glad you like it.”
“It’s quiet as hell though.” I laugh. “The first two nights were tough.”
“I’m sorry about that. It’s one of the first things that gets people. It’s quiet and dark.”
“The stars are gorgeous, though. Just breathtaking.”
He gazes at me, a half smile on his lips. “We should do some stargazing one night.”
“I’d like that, but there’s one thing I’d like to do first.”
He frowns. “What is it?”
I cock my head toward the trampoline in front of the house. “I haven’t jumped on one in years. Do you think they’ll let me? It looks big enough.”
Sawyer thinks for a few moments. “Sure, they will and you don’t even have to ask them. Dax’s father bought that, not realizing he got the one for adults and not for kids. Dax put it up anyway because it’s got a basketball hoop and perfect for him.” He pauses. “He did buy one that’s the right size for the twins. You saw it, right?”
“In their play room?” I nod. “Yeah, I did.”
“So go and do it. I remember Drew telling me you were a gymnast in high school or something. Is that true?” Sawyer says, taking my hand and helping me down the hill.
“I was, but I only got as far as Regionals before I decided it wasn’t for me.”
“Why not?”
I shrug. “It wasn’t fun anymore. Turns out, I’m not really that competitive. I like doing things for fun and if it stops being fun, I don’t do it.”
“That’s a good rule for life, if you ask me.” He unzips the netting and I slip inside, walking to the center of the trampoline slowly.
“You’re sure this is for adults?”
He rolls his eyes. “If it can handle me, then, yes, it’s for adults. Or are you trying to get out of this now?”
“The hell I am,” I say, laughing. “But don’t look. I’m out of practice.”
He laughs again, more heartily this time. “Oh, come on, Al, you know I’m gonna look. You know, just in case you need any help.”
“Hey I’m not that out of practice.”
Sawyer arches an eyebrow. “Yeah? Then prove it.”
It doesn’t take long for me to start jumping—and loving every minute of it, laughing and screeching like a little girl. I don’t even care if he’s watching me but the view of the mesa, the company, and the feeling of being free are just amazing. Every leap up in the air feels like the shedding of ever fear and regret I’ve experienced since Drew’s PTSD became worse until his death. Hell, even long after. Why the hell did I allow it all to happen? Why did I let everyone dictate how I was going to live, in hiding as if ashamed for failing to be there for Drew?
Ten minutes later, out of breath and with my heart racing, I stop and lay down on the platform. The sky with their puffy white clouds look absolutely gorgeous. I turn to see Sawyer still standing outside the trampoline, his arms folded in front of his chest, a grin plastered on his face. “What are you looking at?”
“You,” he replies. “It didn’t take long for you to remember everything in gymnastics, I noticed.”
“Not everything.” I pat the mat next to me. “Wanna join me? Lying down, I mean, not jumping. I need to catch my breath.”
He slips off his flip flops and gets in, the mat dipping from his weight as he lays next to me.
“Thanks for joining me.”
“You’re welcome.”
We don’t talk for the next few minutes, not when I’m too busy listening to my heart pounding in my chest and wondering if it’s because I’m totally out of shape or if it’s because Sawyer’s on the mat next to me.
“I can’t believe Harlow is thirteen years older than Dax,” I say. “She told me that there’d been a scheduling mistake and he showed up at the same time she was renting the Pearl. Talk about Fate, right?”
“Yeah, and you don’t fight it when it happens.”
“What happens if you do? Like, if you didn’t know any better because your mind is too busy hollering,” my voice goes up an octave as I continue, “No, this is wrong, you shouldn’t do it. What will everyone say?”
“Then you better hope that your heart’s voice is louder… and more convincing.”
Maybe it’s an accident, maybe not, but when Sawyer’s hand covers mine on the mat, I don’t pull away. I leave my hand where it is and he does the same with his. But my heart is beating like crazy, the butterflies in my belly fluttering. And with me still catching my breath, it’s a heady feeling, one that ends too soon when his phone starts ringing and he moves his hand away to retrieve his phone from his pocket.
“Sorry, I have to get this.” Sawyer makes his way to the edge of the trampoline just as the front door to the Pearl opens and I hear the sounds of children from inside, wide awake and eager to play again.
After spending one more hour at the Pearl, I’m pretty much spent for the day and Tyler is, too. He’s cranky and sleepy, and after sayi
ng my goodbyes to Harlow, Dax, and Sawyer, I make my way back to the Willow.
Sawyer had wanted to accompany me back home but it’s such a short drive—I can literally see the top of my earthship from the Pearl—that I didn’t feel it was necessary for me to have an escort just because it was getting dark. The solar lights are the perfect addition to mark my driveway and so are the outdoor lights.
All I want to do now is get Tyler cleaned up and ready for bed. I did have a wonderful time. I’ve never laughed so much since Drew died and my cheeks hurt from the constant smiling. I’m also full from another round of New Mexican cooking, this time green chile enchiladas that Dax and Harlow made. Probably the only bittersweet note was seeing how Sawyer was so comfortable around them. It reminded me of just how he used to be around Drew.
But as I give Tyler a quick bath, the thought of Drew only makes me sad. How I wish things didn’t turn out the way they did, with his drinking, his outbursts and that awful morning when I woke up to find his hands wrapped around my neck. I find myself wondering what life would have been like if Drew hadn’t let the demons win but I come up empty. I simply draw a blank. It feels like I stepped into a different reality, one where the air smells clean and the skies are bright blue punctuated by thick billowy clouds, where funny looking houses seem to rise from the ground and adobe walls glisten with mica. I can’t believe how perfect Taos has been so far that it’s almost too good to be true.
A phone call interrupts my thoughts and I see that it’s Frank and Doreen. I pick up on the third ring.
“Hi Doreen. Hi Frank,” I say as cheerfully as I can. With New Mexico two hours ahead, Frank probably just got home from work. “How are you guys doing?”
“We wanted to see how our grandson is doing. We called earlier but your phone kept on ringing,” Doreen says.
“Ty and I were with friends.”
“Can you do a video call?” she asks.
“Sure. But I’m getting him ready for bed so we can’t be on long.”
“Just five minutes is all we need with him,” Frank says. “Can you give us that?”
“Of course, I can.” I try to be as upbeat as I can but it’s difficult to miss the terse tone in his voice. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes, it is,” Doreen replies. “We just miss our grandson, that’s all.”
A few seconds later, we shift to video call and I make sure they can see Tyler and spend time with him. The five-minute call turns into ten minutes before Tyler starts to fuss.
“Why don’t I call you in the morning, guys, so I can get him to bed? It’s late here and we’ve had a full day.”
Doreen opens her mouth to say something but stops herself. Disappointment is written all over her face and I feel bad for my decision to leave LA, but at the same time, I can’t deny that right now, its also the best decision I ever made.
I get Tyler ready for bed and keep him company until he falls asleep. He’s utterly exhausted from the day’s activities and I am, too. The session on the trampoline wiped me out but I had the best time. Maybe one day, I can get one for the Willow, although I have to make it through my first three months first, like a self-imposed trial period. What if it doesn’t work out?
I hear my phone buzzing on the nightstand and spot a text message from Sawyer sent while I was getting Tyler ready for bed.
Sawyer: You forgot the box to bring home that Dax gave you.
Alma: Sorry I missed your message earlier. I was giving Ty a bath.
Sawyer: No worries. I have it with me and I can drop it off if you’d like.
Alma: That would great. Thank you.
Sawyer: OK. Ten minutes.
I try to act as calm as I can. Casual. I’m not even going to try to dress all nice. Instead, I shower as quickly as I can and wear a loose T-shirt and lounge pants, looking like I’m ready for bed even though it’s only eight in the evening. Out here, off the grid, it might as well be midnight because there’s absolutely nothing to do except stargazing and identifying the constellations while I’m at it.
Ten minutes later, Sawyer parks his truck next to my SUV. He’s changed from his usual tan cargo pants to a pair of jeans and black T-shirt, his hair slightly damp.
“Hey,” he says as I let him in, handing me the handmade box that Dax gave me as a homecoming present. “It was crazy back there and I can’t blame you for leaving this behind.”
“Tell me about it.” I laugh as I hold the box in my hands. “Dax wasn’t kidding when he said his kids were feral.”
“Harlow’s not too happy about that term but between her and Dax, I’m sure the twins will find that delicate balance between feral and civilized.”
“When you have a rock climbing wall in the nursery, yeah,” I say, chuckling before I turn my attention to the box in my hands. It’s a simple-looking box with a lid, with smooth edges and no nails or glued edges in sight. Instead, the box has been put together using Japanese joinery called sashimono. It’s absolutely beautiful in its simplicity and I can’t believe I forgot to take it with me.
“Thanks for dropping this off, Sawyer. I was thinking of putting Tyler’s first of everything in here. First lock of hair, first tooth, that kind of thing.”
“It would be perfect for that,” he says, stuffing his hands in his pants pockets.
“You look dressed up. Are you headed out on a date or something?”
“I’m meeting a friend in town. Figured I’d drop this off on the way.”
I try my best not to let my disappointment show. “I hope you have fun.”
“Thanks.” Sawyer pauses, biting his lower lip. “Alma, I–”
His phone rings before he can finish and as he pulls it out of his pocket, I pull the front door open. “I don’t want to keep you any longer, Sawyer. Thanks for dropping off the box.”
He glances at the phone display but doesn’t answer the call. “Dax was telling me you needed a bit of help with the water organization module. Something about the pressure settings.”
“It’s nothing major. Between all the filters and the pressure tank and the right pressure I need to watch out for, I may have forgotten a few things.”
“I can come by sometime in the afternoon and show you, if you’d like.”
I smile. “That would be great.”
Sawyer pauses at the door. “I’m glad you decided to move out here, Al. You looked so happy today.”
I’d be happier if you stayed. “They’re good people,” I say instead. “You’re lucky to have them as friends. Good friends.”
“They’re your friends now, too.”
“Thanks to you.” We linger at the door for a few moments before his phone buzzes, this time notifying him of a text message. “That must be your date. You better get going.”
“She’s a–“
“Good night, Sawyer. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I step back and close the door, the glass pane separating us. He nods before turning away. As he heads to his truck, I turn off the light in the living room. I don’t want him to see the disappointment on my face. I hate that I’m clinging to him, wanting some sort of a connection simply because, off the grid is simply too vast, too isolated from the town, and too lonely.
But that’s the problem with moving to a place so impulsively where I don’t know anyone. It leaves me needing to count on Sawyer for many things and I hate the feeling. I tell myself to make new friends in the morning. Hell, I could even start dating someone if I wanted to. After all, isn’t that why I left LA, to start over?
… although, probably not with my husband’s best friend.
11
Sawyer
I hate having to brush off Alma last night but I needed to start with a clean slate if I wanted to take that kiss she and I shared on the interstate further. And so I’d texted Jessica asking if we could meet for coffee. She was the latest woman I’d been seeing before I left for my last assignment four weeks ago and she’d been wondering why I hadn’t asked to see her again since I got back. I didn’t
want to relay the message via phone or text. That would have been cold even if I’m not a commitment type of guy.
It hadn’t been easy but it had to be done and Jessica took it well. She said she’d been debating on taking a new job based in Houston and I’d just made it easy for her. It doesn’t make me feel any better but I’ll take it. I have to. I’d like a chance with Alma and I’d like her to see that I mean it.
As I knock on her door, I see her walk across the living room wearing a pink sleeveless dress that skims her calves. She’s got one of those baby wraps around her shoulders but the baby in question is zipping happily behind her pushing some kind of wagon.
“Hey, Sawyer, sorry you couldn’t come earlier,” she says, smiling.
“That’s alright. I got to do some stuff around the house in the meantime.” I’d texted her earlier about coming over to help her with the water organizational module but she was in the middle of grocery shopping.
“How’d you like my sign?” Alma points to a plaque above the door with the word Willow painted in colorful letters along with a butterfly and a flower.
“I think it’s perfect.” I hand her a small pot with a plant bearing dark green leaves and handmade chocolate from a local shop. “I never got around to giving you a housewarming gift.”
“You didn’t have to do that but thank you,” she says, smiling. “What kind of plant is this?”
“It’s a dwarf macadamia or its botanical name, macadamia integrifolia. Thought it would be a nice addition to your new garden. And if I remember correctly, you like chocolate. I hear they’re a good mix.”
“I love chocolate, and I have a feeling I’ll love macadamia nuts with chocolate as well. Anyway, come in.” She opens the door wider and as I step inside and close the door behind me, she chases after Tyler who’s still pushing some push toy that makes sounds and lights up as it moves. “Let me get Tyler corralled first. He’s a wild man in these parts.” she says, mimicking a cowboy’s speech as she scoops up Tyler and secures him in her baby wrap. “Ever since we moved, he just loves all the space. But it also means there’s a lot more space for me to chase after him.”