by Mignon Mykel
“Sawyer!”
My grin was automatic. God, I loved my sister.
I stopped moving just before she reached me and righted my suitcase, freeing up an arm to wrap around her.
“How are you, kid?” I asked her as her arms wound around my neck.
“I’m so excited to see you!” She unwrapped herself and stepped back. She tugged on the hem of my jacket. “You are the only person I know, other than my husband and his team, who travels all fancy. Traveling is for pajamas.”
Even though Sydney traveled for business, it didn’t surprise me in the least to hear this. It wouldn’t surprise me if she changed into her business attire in the airport bathroom after landing at her final destination.
I chuckled, grabbing the handle for my bag as she and I made our way back to her running vehicle. “I just saw you six weeks ago, Sydney bean,” I said, ignoring her comment about my clothing choices.
Six weeks ago, Brielle was born.
You definitely couldn’t tell Sydney had a baby six weeks ago.
“I know, but it was too long. We missed you on Thanksgiving.” Sydney, Caleb, and the kids rarely traveled for holidays unless the Enforcers had a decent amount of time off. As it was, the Enforcers had a morning game this turkey day out in New York, and Syd and the kids traveled with Caleb.
Because there were times Caleb’s Christmas schedule was similar, Sydney and Caleb sometimes hosted Christmas for both families. Last Christmas being one of them.
Even Grace had made it to the Christmas Eve festivities before flying home to Illinois to spend the day with her family.
I was late.
Seemed to be my MO when it came to arriving to large functions at the Prescott house. This time it wasn’t my fault though. The plane was late coming into Salt Lake City, thus delaying my flight.
I left my regular suitcase in the rental car, grabbing the other that had Christmas gifts in it, and headed toward the house. Immediately upon opening the front door, I was bombarded with the smell of ham, cranberry candles, and noise.
His back straight and his little legs going quickly like a roadrunner, my two year old nephew came rounding the corner from the main living area, barreling toward me. “Unca Soya!”
I closed the door behind me, chuckling, and let go of my bag so I could bend down to catch Brandon’s propelling form. “Hey, Slug.”
Brandon began telling me about the cookies both Gramma and Granny brought, Granny being Caleb’s mom. Apparently we had cookies and baked goods for days, if what Brandon was telling me was true.
Which I believed.
The mothers were bakers.
As we walked the slight distance, past Sydney and Caleb’s home office and through the open, formal dining room—that was never used—voices grew louder. I could make out Smith’s deeper voice as he spoke with our father. I could also hear as Caleb’s younger siblings fought over a game.
Sure enough, in the living room stood one of Caleb’s brothers, Porter, and a sister, McKenna, having a heated discussion, with The Game of Life between them .
Sitting behind them though, with a soft smile on her face, and her eyes widened ever so slightly, was Grace. She sat in a large stuffed chair, leaning into the arm with her legs folded at her side. Any other person looking at her would think she was just taking in the game and conversation in front of her, listening with half an ear to the other conversations around her, but I knew better.
Her soft smile was slightly strained, the sides pinched tight. And her widened eyes were slightly glazed over. Upon closer inspection, her breathing was too quick for her to be feeling as comfortable as she appeared.
I put Brandon down on his feet, bending to his level and whispering in his ear. Then I stayed crouched, stayed hidden, as Brandon did as I asked. My arrival had come unnoticed as men talked sports, women cooked, and others played.
Brandon ran to the cookie table, snatched up a peanut butter and chocolate kiss blossom—making me grimace at his choice—and ran it over to Grace. I watched as her face came to life, her smile becoming less strained, and her eyes brightening.
“Will you share it with me?” I heard her ask him. Brandon shook his head, no doubt because he was aware there were plenty more where that one had come from.
I stood to my full height and fully entered the room. Sydney caught my movement in her peripheral and waved as she stirred something at the stove. “Hey, Soy.”
Another hello came from one of the guys, Caleb’s dad I thought but I couldn’t be sure, as my eyes were over to Grace. When she lifted her head from Brandon to me, her face further lit up. “Sawyer! You made it.” Just like that, she melted into herself again.
Maybe it made me an ass to revel in it, but I enjoyed knowing I could be “her person,” as she had once told me. The person she could lean on when places got too crowded. The person who could calm and ground her when she was feeling overwhelmed.
“I’ll share with you,” I told her, walking over to my friend.
I often had to remind myself that that was what she was, a friend. But I would take her friendship any day.
I moved past the Life set up, where Avery Prescott had now joined her seventeen and twenty-one year old siblings. “Hey, Sawyer,” Porter addressed me, sitting down and waiting for his sisters to do the same. Whatever feud he and McKenna had been having must have resolved itself.
I nodded once. “Porter. Hello, girls.” They said hello as well and I glanced at the board, seeing a fourth car, decked out with many Life people in it. I wondered who else was playing; who had the shit luck of continuously landing on extending family options.
A door opened near the mudroom—the bathroom, I presumed—and out walked Sean, drying his hands on his jeans. “I’m back!” He walked to the set up and clasped his hands before sitting across from Porter. “Alright, where were we?” I shook my head when I realized it was my thirty-two year old bachelor for life brother who managed to do the direct opposite of his life, in Life. Ironic.
I plopped down next to Grace on the oversized single person chair, causing her to scramble from her relaxed, leaning position to one that would accommodate my larger frame.
She smiled at me. “Did you tell Brandon to get me a cookie?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I answered, reaching for the blossom in her hand. “I didn’t think to specify.” I took the cookie from her and popped off the chocolate kiss. Unlike damn near every other woman I had ever encountered, Grace didn’t care for chocolate.
I gave her back the peanut butter cookie. “Better?”
With a sweet, light laugh, she nodded. “Much.”
“Oh my gosh, that’s what?!” Grace exclaimed, leaning in and squinting.
I looked back at the large paper I had just drawn on. Grace and I were terrible at this game.
Caleb and Syd were winning Telestrations after Dark with at least fifty points—I may have been slightly exaggerating—but every other team still had at least five points on Grace and me.
On the paper, I had drawn a tangle of stick people and a timer with circles going around and around and around again.
“A quickie,” I answered. I could totally see it.
“Ooh, so that mess of lines is what, two stick people?” Smith asked, his own eyes narrowed as he tried to figure it out.
“Well, yeah.”
“That’s a lot of limbs, Soy,” Sydney said, her brows raised.
“That was the easiest one on your card?” Grace finally asked, looking at me with her brows still drawn in.
“Yeah.”
Grace stood and reached for the card in my hand, looking it over. “Because three blind mice would have been too difficult.” She tossed the card down to the used pile.
“Just sit down, Soy, and watch a pro,” Sydney said as Caleb stood. She pinched her husband’s butt and I pretended to not notice, instead moving to sit next to Grace again.
“You’re terrible at this game,” Grace whispered to me after I sat.
&n
bsp; “Hey, that was a perfectly good drawing,” I said, defending myself. “You’re terrible at guessing.”
The game continued on, Sydney guessing Caleb’s drawing in seconds. And so it went the rest of the round, every other team doing well.
When it was Grace’s turn to draw, she stood and faced me, pointing at me. “Get your thinking cap on, man. You’re supposed to be a detective.”
I mimicked putting a cap on my head and winked at her, which only caused Grace to shake her head and move to the pile of cards to draw from. With deliberate concentration, she looked over the face-down pile before randomly selecting one. She looked the card over, taking more time than was likely necessary but no one called her out on it.
Finally, she nodded and picked up the marker at the drawing pad. “Ok, ready.”
Mykaela, Caleb’s older sister, flipped the timer over. “Go.”
As Grace drew, I shouted out guesses. “Person. Boobs. Penis? Why the hell does that person have boobs and a penis, Gracie? Naked. Um…” I held my breath, thinking and shaking my head. “Transgender!”
“Time!” Myke yelled out and Grace groaned, slamming the marker down.
“You suck,” she told me.
“Indecent exposure!” McKenna guessed.
“Full-frontal nudity,” Smith said confidently, to which Grace held a hand out to him.
“Thank you.” She looked pointedly at me. “You’re a cop, Sawyer! You should have been able to guess it!”
I grinned crookedly. “I got confused by the boobs and penis, Gracelyn. Maybe next time draw two people.”
She moved back to her spot and sat next to me with a heavy plop. “We suck.”
I chuckled and leaned into her, bouncing my shoulder against hers once. “Hey, but we’re having fun.”
To that, she gave me one of her brilliant smiles. Poor guessers or not, we were definitely having fun.
As for Thanksgiving this year, while I would have loved to make it out for dinner with my sister, I’d been on call. And, as luck would have it, I was in the middle of the best damn pumpkin pie my mom ever made when I was called to a case.
The joys of being on call.
Crime didn’t stop just because your family was enjoying a turkey dinner.
Sydney walked around to the back of her SUV and released the back door, pulling it up to reveal the small trunk space. One of the seats was folded down, making room for the stroller, and the other was occupied by a booster seat. There wasn’t currently room for my suitcase, and I doubted it would fit behind the front driver and passenger seats.
“I forgot to take out the stroller,” Sydney stated. “One second, I have to rearrange the seats and we’ll be able to get your man bag in here.”
I chuckled, slowly starting to feel more and more like myself the further the clock ticked away from my being in Salt Lake City. “What man bag?” I said with faux scorn. “I have a backpack and a suitcase.”
“…which is nicer than Caleb’s.” She nodded a few times, still at task. “And Cael has a nice, team-issued one, mind you.”
If I wasn’t going to spend my money on my digs, I didn’t see the issue with buying a nice set of luggage nor nicer clothes.
I looked down to my Polo loafers. Or spending my money on nicer shoes.
There was no sense arguing with Syd over it, so I chose to keep my grinning mouth shut. Instead, I watched as she climbed up into the trunk to uninstall the booster seat in the back. I’d give her a hand but I wouldn’t have a clue as to what to do. I couldn’t help but grin though as I watched her.
My sister was a tiny woman but she had a pretty big personality. Something that I thought once got lost, but her marrying Caleb definitely brought it back out again.
“Where are the kids?” I asked, reaching for the now freed seat as she finagled herself back out of the trunk and pushed some magic button that caused the seat to fold down on its own.
“With Grace.”
I thought I heard a smile in her voice, but I couldn’t be certain with her face turned down.
It wouldn’t be the first time she tried to get Grace and me together. I was pretty sure she was clueless that her friend and I slept together once. At her wedding, nonetheless.
Once the seat was completely lowered, I lifted my suitcase into the back, opening it immediately to pull out my gun case. I unlocked it and pulled out my disassembled Glock. With practiced ease, I put the gun back together and holstered it at my hip before repacking my bags. I caught Sydney watching me from the side of my eye. She stopped asking me to not wear my gun a few years ago.
After all was set, I rearranged the back with my suitcase and the booster seat, closing the trunk with yet another button.
So many buttons on this monstrosity of a sport utility vehicle.
“Ready?” Sydney asked.
I nodded, moving to the passenger side as she slid into the driver’s seat. No sooner than I buckled, my sister brought up her friend again.
Our friend, really.
“Grace and I were at coffee last night when Caleb told me you were coming. I asked her to come pick you up with me, but she declined.” She checked over her shoulder and eased into drive, heading toward her and Caleb’s La Jolla home. “I swear; you two are so fun together. You should give it a shot.” She glanced at me quickly with a small smile. “She’d be so good for you, Soy.”
“She’s here, I’m there… It wouldn’t work out, Sydney.” I kept my gaze forward. “Besides, she’s dating that dou—guy.”
“His name is Jeremy.” I could hear a laugh in her voice. “And she dumped him.”
Huh.
Well that was news.
Grace didn’t tell me.
Then again, I hadn’t exactly been reaching out to her lately, either.
When I didn’t respond, Sydney cleared her throat, trying to get some sort of response from me, I was sure. “How’s life adjusting to a third kid?” I asked instead. “I hear that once you hit three, it’s smooth sailing.”
Sydney shook her head. “Changing the subject, huh? I’ve got your number, Sawyer Ryan.”
“Kids?” I repeated, looking over at her. Yeah, I was avoiding her statement about Grace.
“They’re good. Brandon’s excited to see you.”
“Bri is…six-weeks now?” I asked, as if I didn’t know the answer. Six weeks ago was the last time I saw Grace, the last time I spoke with her. And even then it was stilted.
After meeting Jeremy, it was probably—no, it was—my fault our friendship started to fall apart. I didn’t expect the huge surge of jealousy though when I met the guy. And like I told Grace in an email, I just didn’t like the guy—regardless of whatever I felt for Grace.
Something about him didn’t sit right in my gut, and I always trusted my gut.
Grace was a special woman. She was the type who appeared all put together, even if slightly shy and quiet. In fact, when I first ‘saw’ her that was what drew me to her.
The first time I saw Gracelyn Dewey was in a picture on Sydney’s casting board. My sister’s first major casting assignment was for a dating show, Beauty. Little did she know at the time, her efforts in finding an ideal match for Caleb Prescott would be wasted, as he only had eyes for her.
Smart guy.
I’d hate to have to beat him.
Anyway, all the women Sydney had chosen were beautiful, but they all faded into one another. It was Grace and her quiet smile that drew me in. When Sydney played her monologue interview for me, it was more than her angelic face that snagged my attention. Meeting her at Sydney and Caleb’s engagement party only solidified everything for me.
Throughout our years of friendship, I learned an awful lot about the girl many thought was simply shy, and it was because of that I found myself endeared to her even more. She was a fucking fighter and she deserved a man who would allow her to shine.
Jeremy wouldn’t let her shine. There wasn’t any way in hell that d-bag knew what he had in his arms when he held
Grace. And sure, she alluded to the fact that she told Jeremy about her issues, but I knew Grace. I knew how proud she was.
She didn’t tell him.
But me?
The day she finally put a label to what she’d been feeling and experiencing for years, I was the first person she called.
“I think I know what my problem is.” Grace’s voice over the phone was a balm for the shitty day I had. No, no horrible cases but a shit-ton of paperwork that I was so over, on a case I was thankful was now closed.
“You don’t have a problem, Grace,” I told her. I leaned back into the corner of my couch and closed my eyes, letting Grace’s voice wash through me. Not for the first time during a phone conversation, I found myself wishing she were beside me rather than miles and miles away.
“For years I’ve thought I was introverted,” she pushed on, ignoring me, “but I think there’s something more to it.”
I wanted to tell her that it didn’t matter what label she put on it, none of it mattered to those who cared about her. It didn’t mean shit to me if she was introverted, or shy, or a hermit. She could never leave her house, and I’d still care about her.
“I mean, I’m totally self-diagnosing myself but it all makes sense!” she continued, so I listened, being the good friend I molded myself into. “I think I have what they’re calling high-functioning anxiety.”
That actually made sense. Not that I knew the true definition, but I felt it was pretty self-explanatory.
Grace often talked to me about her dreams and aspirations but always let fear dictate what she’d go after. There were times during family and friend get-togethers that she’d be fine one minute, and then hiding out another. She never lost her shy smile, but…
Yeah. It made sense.
I’m not sure when, or even if, she told Sydney about her suspicions, but the fact she told me first continued to sit with me.
“You’re quiet,” my sister said, breaking through the silence. “Rough week at work?” She glanced at me briefly.