by Tasha Ivey
He smooths my messy hair and rubs his slightly calloused fingertips across my forehead. “Just knowing I’m leaving you here in my bed will make my day a great one. The vision of your hair tossed around my pillow will be permanently engrained in my brain. There’s something incredibly sexy about that.”
“Mmm hmm.” I only halfway hear what he’s saying. The gentle stroking across my forehead is making me so sleepy.
“Sleep, baby. I’ll call you later.”
Six hours later—yes, I said SIX—I finally wake up, and only because I get a text from Drew.
Drew: ‘Thinking of u. Hope ur resting well. Won’t b home until 6.’
Me: ‘I am. Just woke up, actually. See u then.”
I sit up in the bed and look around the room. This. Is. Weird. I wasn’t coherent enough to notice it when Drew woke me up earlier, but waking up in this room is quite disorienting. It’s like when you’re on vacation and staying in a beautiful hotel room, and you wake up having forgotten where you are for a moment.
It’s nice, but it’s not home. I’m used to my pillow and the way my mattress remembers all too well where I sleep on it. I’m used to the sun streaming through the crack in my curtains and right into my eyes. I’m used to the annoying chirping coming from the tree right outside my window while Darcy smacks at the windowpane, trying to catch them.
Oh, Darcy.
I couldn’t ever find her last night, and I’m sure with the door standing wide open, she got out of the house. She’s gotten out before and came back within a day, so I just have to hope she does it this time. I set some food out on the porch before we left last night, and I put her travel crate out there with a fluffy blanket inside, so she has a warmer place to sleep. I’ll go over there today and see if I can find her.
After making the bed, I get into the shower, which is beyond strange to me when I realize this is the very same shower that Drew uses. I pick up his shower gel and inhale the familiar scent deeply. It has a clean scent but also a hint of drool-inducing cologne. It’s that smell that brings back memories of what happened last night since he’d just gotten out of the shower before we kissed. I suddenly feel as if I’ve been punched in the gut, and I still feel terrible about kissing him while thinking about someone else. There are so many mixed feelings swirling around in my head, they make me dizzy.
I wish I could just remove myself from both Drew and Sawyer, and maybe I can determine exactly what my feelings for each of them truly are. But now that I’m practically living in Drew’s house, that’s going to be hard to do. Sawyer has been somewhat removed, I guess, since my laptop has been destroyed and my cell phone isn’t smart enough to email or chat. I’ve never noticed a computer in Drew’s house, and Callie’s is out of the question, so I guess I’ll have to try to check my email at school tomorrow. I need to let Sawyer know what’s happened over the last couple of days, so he isn’t worried that something has happened to me.
After I go downstairs to make myself a cup of coffee, I take it out on the deck and enjoy the warmth of the sun soaking into my skin and the smell of the bay all around me. It’s a little too cool, but it really is beautiful out here. Serenity is something elusive for me; I rarely get moments like this to myself, and it’s nice.
When my cell phone starts ringing in the kitchen, I jump up and jog inside to catch it. I’m afraid my parents have somehow found out about the break-in and have called to freak out on me. I really should call and tell them about it, but they worry enough about me as it is. I’ll just have to hope they don’t decide to come down for a surprise visit until I can get that mess cleaned up.
I don’t recognize the number on the display, but I immediately know that voice when I answer.
“Hey, Makenna! I sure was hoping I’d catch you. Can you take a break from your class for a sec?”
“Hi, Mrs. Georgia. I actually took the day off today. Is something wrong?”
Her long sigh tells me there is. “Well, sweetie, it’s Mr. Lincoln.”
“Oh, no,” I interrupt. “Is he okay?” Please, let him be okay.
“He’s just fine. But he’s adamant that we call you and remind you that you’re supposed to visit today. He even asked for a bath, so we know it’s something important to him. We’re lucky to force one on him twice a week. He’s been yelling at his nurse all morning that she needed to call you, so she finally gave in and asked me to.”
Well, well, well . . . seems like Mr. I-Hate-Everybody is excited to see me today. Or maybe it’s just the chocolate. I may be grasping at straws, but I’ll take what I can get.
“I’m glad you called me. I have a lot going on, and I had actually forgotten. Please let William know that I’ll be there in a couple of hours.”
After Georgia presses me more on my friendship with someone related to William—and I refuse to give up any information, I get dressed and straighten the kitchen back up, washing the coffee pot and my mug. At the end of the island, there is a folded note and a key.
Okay, a little cheesy, but also kinda cute. And I’m really glad he thought of it because I sure didn’t. Although, having this key makes this all seem more real. I have a key to his house. He called me his girlfriend. He told me he loves me. And he kissed me last night. I just jumped from casually dating to being a live-in girlfriend in a matter of days without even really realizing it. I’ve never been claustrophobic before, but the reality of my relationship with Drew has the walls closing in on me.
I have to get out of here for a while. Spending one night in his house has me freaking out, so I’m not sure exactly how it’s going to go when I’m really living with him in Indianapolis. The only thing keeping me sane right now is the fact that I have several months before that happens. And I’ll get to go back to my house as soon as the back door gets fixed and I get the mess cleaned up. That really needs to happen sooner rather than later.
After locking up the house and reluctantly putting his key onto my key ring, I hop in my car to head home, hoping to find Darcy impatiently pacing the front porch. Being in my own car, I feel the weight lifting. Even knowing that I’m going home to a huge mess, I still can’t wait to be in my own space. Living alone for so long has spoiled me.
The house looks deceivingly peaceful when I park in the driveway, and I’m struck with the resemblance between me and my house at that very moment. Normal appearance on the outside, utter chaos on the inside.
I check the crate and food dishes on the porch, and neither has been touched. I nervously peek my head in the door and call out for Darcy, but there isn’t a sound, so I walk all the way into the foyer and stare at the wrecked disorder. I don’t understand why someone would get any pleasure from breaking into a house and completely ransacking the place. I don’t know how I’ll ever get it livable again. So much has to be replaced and repaired.
Before the threatening tears can make their appearance, I hit the road to see William, cranking up my radio as loud as I possibly can to drown out all thought. Music is my only escape from reality sometimes, and paired with the open stretch of highway, I’m almost human again. Of course, being human also makes me forgetful, and I nearly forget William’s chocolate. Nothing a sneaky little U-turn doesn’t fix.
As soon as I come through those heavy double doors at Hillcrest Manor, the sound of squeaky shoes echoes around the lobby, and I have to fight to keep my eyes from rolling.
“Well, there you are! I’ve been watching for you. That old coot is giving everyone fits!”
I can only imagine. “I’m here now. Can I go on up?”
Her eyes narrow, and her mouth curls up on one side. “Just one second. I got curious and pulled Mr. Lincoln’s records. He’s only ever had one person visit, and those visits are rare. That person is also the one that pays for him to be here. So, judging by what you said about doing a favor for a friend, that means Sawyer Harris must be the friend.”
“Mrs. Georgia, you must’ve been a detective in a past life.” I chuckle and take a single step toward the s
tairs before she catches my arm.
“Once I saw his name, I remembered him coming in here. He’s a handsome young man, don’t you think?”
Oh, jeez. “Yes, ma’am. I suppose he is.”
“It’s sweet the way he’s practically adopted old Mr. Lincoln, too. He must have a big heart. Did he tell you that they aren’t even related? We have trouble getting our residents’ own family to pay sometimes.”
I know she’s fishing for information, and I also know I’d better give her a little nibble, or I’ll be standing here all day long. “Yes, ma’am. Sawyer did tell me that they aren’t related.”
“I knew it.” She grins before popping her gum. “I’ve been thinking about setting you up with my nephew, but I didn’t know if you were in a relationship or not. As soon as you said Sawyer’s name, that dreamy look on your face gave me the answer I needed.”
“Oh, I’m not—”
“No need to explain,” she interrupts. “You’re one lucky girl. Every nurse in this building makes an excuse to go into Mr. Lincoln’s room when Sawyer comes to visit. Even at my age, I’d have no problem going all cougar on that mountain of a man.”
Oh. My. Gosh. She did not just say that. “Umm, well, thanks. I better get up there before he thinks I’m not coming and really causes a scene.”
“Okay, sure. Maybe you’ll bring Sawyer with you next time?”
“We’ll see.”
Before she can come up with anything else to say, I dart up the stairs and find his room. Remembering the airborne pillow last time, I decide to knock and announce myself before I open the door. “William? It’s me, Makenna.”
“Do you have the chocolate?” he yells.
I almost feel like I’m doing a drug deal. “Lots of it.”
“Well, what the hell are you waiting for? Come in!”
I can’t help but smile when I push the door open with my foot, standing at the side of the door for a moment just to be sure he’s not going to throw something.
“Hi, William.” I approach him carefully, noticing his damp hair combed perfectly into place.
Instead of answering, he holds out his hand, waiting for me to drop the goods. When I place the bag in his hand, he smiles and brings the opening of the sack to his face, inhaling so deeply I’m almost afraid he’ll suck a truffle up his nose.
He pops a whole one into his mouth and closes his eyes to savor the soft morsel. He reaches into the bag again, but this time he holds it out to me. “Want one? You brought plenty this time.”
“I’d love one.” I take it from his outstretched hand and nibble on the edge, but he just stares in my direction and waits. It takes me a moment to realize what he’s waiting for, and when I cram the entire thing in my mouth, he nods and dives into the bag for another. It’s eerie how he knows exactly what I’m doing.
“Sit down, Makenna. It doesn’t seem fair for me to have you bring chocolate and not let you stay a minute. Tell me, have you heard from Sawyer?”
I pull the little chair from the corner of the room and over to the side of his bed. “I did a couple of days ago. He’s doing okay, but he’s ready to come home. He thinks they’ll be pulling them out any day now, and he hopes to be home in time for Christmas.”
“You like him, don’t you?”
Seriously, what is it in my voice or on my face that tells people that? “We’ve become really close friends.”
He shakes his head. “Not what I mean, but you already know that. It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me. He’s been through a lot, but he’s a good kid. Did he tell you how he knows me?”
“No, he didn’t.” I’m shocked at how much he’s talking right now. It’s like he’s not the same person I came to see last week. I kind of understand it though. Chocolate puts me in a better mood, too. “He told me that he didn’t have any family, and you were like a grandfather to him.”
“I’m surprised he told you about his family. It’s a shame what happened.”
“Well . . . he didn’t tell me anything other than what I just told you.”
He harrumphs. “Figures. He doesn’t want anybody feeling sorry for him. I think that’s why he took up with me.”
“Will you tell me what happened? I won’t say anything to him about it.”
“I don’t care if you do or not. He knows not to expect anything from me.” He pauses a moment to sit up in the bed a little more. “He and his folks moved in next door to me when he was barely crawling. I didn’t mind them too much. They weren’t too loud, and they left me alone. What more could I ask for? Anyway, somehow, when the little fella was about four, he started playing in the backyard by himself some. Back in those days, you could let your kids do that, you know.”
“Yes, I remember.”
“I would sit on the back porch and smoke my pipe every afternoon, and around the same time, little Sawyer would come outside to play, staring at me and watching every move I made. It wasn’t too long before he started talking to me and asking endless questions. I’ve never really been one to like kids, but he was smart beyond his age. We became fast friends. His parents didn’t really do much with him, so he started coming over more and more. By the time he was thirteen, he mowed my lawn a couple times a week, and he helped me work on things that needed fixing around the house. You see, that was about the time I started having trouble seeing clearly.”
Watching him reminisce about his relationship with Sawyer is something special. His hardened face is softer, his eyes somehow brighter. I know that, despite what he tries to portray, he loves Sawyer like a son.
“He asked to stay overnight at my house a lot, and I didn’t mind him being around. My own kids were grown and had nothing to do with me, and my wife had passed many years before. When I asked him why he didn’t like being at home, he told me about his parents’ drug problem. Meth is nasty stuff. I knew it had to be bad for him to prefer staying with me. So I let him, whenever he wanted. Sometimes, he’d show up in the middle of the night.”
“It got a lot worse for him, though. On his fifteenth birthday, he showed up at my house. I hadn’t heard from him in a few days, and I knew why when I saw him. My vision had gotten pretty bad by that point, but I could see enough to know the boy was black and blue, and I could tell he hadn’t been eating well. He didn’t want to tell me what happened, and to be honest, I didn’t want to know. He came in and cooked us a good meal, and he went to bed right after he ate. He slept fourteen straight hours. After he cooked lunch for me the next day, he promised to come back in a couple of hours to mow the yard. I didn’t see him for another week.”
I have a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. “What happened?”
“He came knocking on the door around midnight, and I’d never seen him look so bad. He was still wearing the same clothes he had on when he left the week before. He was filthy, his eyes were yellowed from dehydration, his face was sunken in, and his eyes were nothing but dark shadows. He was so weak, I had to help him in the door. First, he asked me for some water, and he gulped down three glasses before he threw it all up. Then, he asked me to call the police and tell them to send an ambulance to his house.”
Oh my God. Imagining Sawyer like that is killing me.
“He wouldn’t talk for a long time. He just stared at the wall. And when the police got there, he started to tell them what happened, and he lost consciousness. It was a good thing he asked me to send for an ambulance because it was him who left in it.”
“What happened to him during that week, William?” I ask, desperate to know.
His face falls, and he scrubs his face with both hands before resuming. “Poor boy. The afternoon he left my house, he went home, and his parents were trashed. There was a bunch of other people over there for a party. Everyone was high, so he hid in his room . . . until his mom started screaming. He ran out and found his dad lying in the floor, not breathing. He tried what he knew of CPR, but it wasn’t enough to do any good. The man overdosed so much that his heart completely stopped
. His mom was so out of her mind that she was convinced he’d wake up, but she blamed Sawyer, so she locked him in a bathroom for six days. No food. He had water the first two days, but they didn’t pay the bill, so it was shut off.”
I can’t stop the tears spilling onto my cheeks. “How did he get out?”
“His mom screamed at him for days that he was a failure for not saving his dad, that he’d never amount to anything so he might as well die in there. He sat there for days smelling the decomposing body right outside the door and practically decomposing himself. But for some unknown reason, she opened the door that night and told him to clean up the mess in the kitchen and make her something to eat. He managed to get enough strength to get outside and come to my house. He was in the hospital for a week. From that moment on, he lived with me. I had to fight for him, but in the end, I got custody of him.”
“What about his mom? Where is she now?” I can’t believe that we’re talking about the same Sawyer. I’m amazed that he’s the same person who went through all of this. How he’s even remotely sane is beyond me.
“Oh she died about a month later. Same way.”
I press a fist into my rolling stomach. I feel nauseated, and I’m absolutely devastated that my friend went through this. “I don’t know what to say.”
William shrugs his shoulders. His hand reaches over to mine where I’m gripping the railing on his bed with my other hand, missing it once before covering it gently. “I don’t either. I never knew what to say to him to help him, but he seemed to adjust okay after all that. I was totally blind not long after that, so he spent all of his time caring for me or working two jobs, a restaurant and a gas station. Once he was old enough, he did his time in the Army, then immediately enlisted in the National Guard. This is his third tour in Iraq.”
It’s no wonder he’s so lonely and depressed. That’s all he’s ever known. “You know, William, if it hadn’t been for you, he probably would’ve ended up right where his parents are. You saved him.”