Only twenty minutes into the gathering I feel the need to escape. Trying to make my exit unseen, I walk out the back door and head for the trail that connects the two properties. Austin and I used this trail often when we were kids, before we were able to drive.
Wanting to enjoy the fresh air and beautiful weather, I take my time traveling home. It’s a warm day for December. Had Austin been here, he would be trying to convince me to jump in the lake. He never cared what time of year it was, if the sun was out, it was swimming weather. I always had a feeling it had more to do with him getting me into a bikini, than the weather.
The first thing I see when crossing onto our property is the lake. Walking along the side I make my way to the swing. Not being able to help myself I take a seat, push off with my feet and lean back while holding onto the ropes. I close my eyes as I glide through the air feeling just a small bit of peace.
I spent most of the day thinking about what Mrs. Davis said this morning. I don’t want Austin to know how sad I am or that I am crying all the time. He would be so angry with me. I’m allowed to miss him, but I must remember all the good times we had and how blessed I was to have him in my life, no matter how short a time it was. To have the friendship and love of such and amazing person is a gift that I will always cherish.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
With only a few more items to pack, I glance around my room to make sure I didn’t to forget anything. Christmas came and went and the spring semester will be upon us in just a few short days. Cheyenne and I decided to head back a few days early to re-group and prepare for Monday’s classes. The distraction of school is something I have been looking forward.
Rummaging around the bed one more time, I spot my hoodie crumpled on the floor at the foot of my bed. My phone spilled from the pocket as I picked it up and hit the floor with a thud causing me to jump. I hadn’t even realized I had lost it. Not sure if the battery had died or if I had turned it off, I pressed the top power button and the screen came alive.
Aside from the abundance of text messages, mostly apologies for my loss or wishes for a happy holiday, there were also five voicemails. Opening the visual voicemail application on my phone, I see two names left multiple messages. Preston was the owner of three of those and the other two were Austin’s. The sight of his name increases my heart beat.
The date and time stamp on Preston’s messages clued me in on what they were most likely going to sound like. I pressed play and listened to all three of his messages in order they were received.
“Sawyer, please call me back. It’s not what you think, I promise. I can explain.”
“I know you’re upset. You have every right. Please call me back.”
“Sawyer, I can’t lose you. I don’t want to wait for you to get back. If I don’t hear from you soon, I’m coming to find you. Please baby, give me a chance to explain.”
By his last message, the tightness in my chest was overbearing. Lack of sleep, and distress coated his voice and now I understand why he showed up my house. He was a mess, and this was all before he knew about the accident.
I deleted the messages from Preston, and stared at the other two in the inbox. The first message was from the day before the accident. I reluctantly pressed play.
“Hey Sawyer, I’ll be heading home earlier than expected. Just wanted to check on you. I’ll see you when I get home tomorrow.”
Now on the floor with my knees at my chest, tears welled in my eyes at the sound of his southern drawl. I would never get to hear that sweet sound ever again. Trembling, my thumb was hovering above the final message as the time stamp was burning a spot in my mind; ten-thirty, that night. It must have been just a little while after he saved me by the lake and put me to bed. My heart was saying no; do not open this message, unsure if the pain would break me completely. Betraying my heart, I pressed play.
“Hey drunky, hope you feel better when you wake up. I’m sorry you’re hurting. I wish I could take away the pain. I know you two will work it out. Give him a call, you promised me you would. I love you Sawyer. Call me when you get this.”
“I can’t. I can’t call you. You left me. Why’d you leave me?” I spoke at the phone as if he were on the line listening. I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t want to. I replayed the message over and over, trying to make sense of it all. The more I listened, the more I cried, but I couldn’t stop, eventually falling asleep on the floor clutching my phone.
Awaking in my bed with tiny arms wrapped around me started to become a normal occurrence for me. Cheyenne found me last night and helped me into bed. I could never thank her enough for her strength. She was also in pain. Austin had been in both of our lives for many years.
“Good morning babe.” She spoke into my hair from the spooning position behind me. “You ready to head back to reality?”
I nodded in response and sat up in the bed. My quivering lip alarmed Cheyenne who quickly shot up in bed.
“Oh boo, it’s ok, we will get through this.” She rubbed her hand on my back.
“There’s a..voicemail. From Austin, the night of the accident.” I held up the phone and her hand flew to her mouth.
“Did you listen?” She whispered, struggling to hide her emotion.
I nodded my head and pressed play with the speakerphone activated. She listened intently and her brows furrowed in response and I watched the tears glide down her cheeks. She didn’t say anything, but gripped me in the fiercest of hugs and as we shared a few moments embraced with emotion.
“Alright, baby girl, let’s get going,” she said, followed by a deep breath. I nodded in response and wiped the wetness from my face.
The car was packed and we were ready to go. As I approached the front porch, my mama stood with her arms outstretched just like my arrival. I curled up under them with mine wrapped around her waist. The comfort of my mother’s love was something I will greatly miss. The front door swung open and my daddy reached around joined hugging us both. I kissed their cheeks and said goodbye. I restrained from allowing any tears. I needed them to know I was okay. Whether I really believed it, I had to reassure them. The last thing I wanted was for my family to worry about me while I was so far away. They had enough on their plates and I wanted to be the Jameson girl they raised; strong, hardworking, and stable. I wouldn’t plan to see them again until summer, unless my schedule permitted me to make a weekend trip. We waved goodbye and drove away.
This felt different than any other time, and so was the four-hour ride back to Avalon. Cheyenne and I didn’t sing to the radio, keeping the volume low to act as background noise; low enough to avoid hearing the words to any sad song that could blow my heart to smithereens.
Darkness had just settled on the town when we arrive at the apartment. Becka greets us in the parking lot with a big hug. She helps us with our bags and we make our way inside. I’m exhausted and want nothing more than to just go to my room and get settled in.
“Good to be home, girls.” I take a deep breath. “I’m going to lie down. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
“Yeah, girl. Let us know if you need us,” Chey replied. “Becks, want to watch a movie?”
“Yep. You pick, I’ll make popcorn,” she replied. It was clear how happy she was we were home and I wish that I could be better company.
Closing the door behind me, I drop my bags near the closet. As I lift up my head, my eyes catch the corner of a red and brown box on the top shelf. Once again, betraying my heart, which thinks this is a terrible idea, I reach up and pull it down. What am I doing? I need a break, my heart needs a break. But I can’t stop. I want to remember everything. I want to be close to him, in whatever way I can. On the floor in the center of my room, I sit cross-legged, with the box in both hands. I run my finger over the sharpie hearts and lift the lid. Flipping it to the side, the contents of the box spill to the floor and there it is; my life, my love, my past. I reviewed every single item, one at a time to relive the memories with my eyes closed. It shouldn’t be possible to
produce this amount of tears, but they just keeping coming, one right after the next.
Picking up an old photo, a small laugh escaped my throat remembering the story Sam shared at the service. Still dressed in our camouflage gear from the scare, Chey and I were on the backs of the boys near the fire. Mrs. Davis was only a few moments too late, coming to capture the scare on video, so we settled for a photo instead. I clutched it to my chest and looked up toward the ceiling, pleading for strength.
Looking back to the pile, near the bottom of the mess I had created, was another photo. Shattering my very existence, his cocky smirk was staring back at me. This was taken at the winter festival when we were fourteen years old. He had been teasing me all night saying, “You love me, don’t you? Just admit it.” Of course I did, but I wouldn’t give in to his badgering. Finally I replied, “Maybe”, and he had turned around to say, “I can live with that.” I had my camera already focused and caught him just after he said it, full of confidence. And rightfully so, I did love him, and he always knew it.
Feeling my strength disappear, I had done enough damage to myself. Leaving the memories on the floor, I held the photo to my chest and collapsed into bed. Finally, a dried well of tears, I was done crying. I had nothing left. My emotions were drained completely.
For the first few days back in Avalon, I spent much of my time alone or just around the house with the girls. We all had an understanding and with each passing day, the pain found a home tucked away a little deeper. The girls were able to make me smile and occasionally they were able to shake a laugh out of me. It never lasted long, though. A new emotion began to appear in my life; guilt. I felt guilty laughing, guilty smiling, and enjoying life when my Austin wouldn’t be able to laugh again, to live anymore. His life was cut short and I felt like the worst friend, like I was moving on without him. This was an emotion I was not prepared for. But in time, I started to remember that he wanted me to be happy. He would probably tickle the shit out of me if he knew I was moping around like an ogre. The thought of him torturing me to laugh, made me smile; a guilt free smile. I was growing stronger and I knew he would be proud.
We were into the swing of the semester and back to our regular routine. I was slowly healing and every morning I woke up a little more put together than the day before. I was working less days this semester and my course load was similar to the fall. Though still a ways to go, I actually started to believe I would be okay.
I still had not contacted Preston. He would text me every so often to let me know he was thinking of me and missed me. But I never responded, unsure what to say. While reading the most recent text from Preston, I decided to play the saved message from Austin. I had not played it since the morning with Chey and not sure why this moment seemed appropriate.
“Hey drunky, hope you feel better when you wake up. I’m sorry you’re hurting. I wish I could take away the pain. I know you two will work it out. Give him a call, you promised me you would. I love you Sawyer. Call me when you get this.”
I had made Austin a promise that night. Drunken or not, I never broke promise with Austin and neither did he, no matter what. I needed to make the call. I missed Preston and his effortless ability to make me smile. I was still so hurt, but I needed to know the truth. He deserved the chance to explain.
Scrolling through my contacts, I tapped his name and listened for his voice.
“Sawyer,” he signed in relief. “How are you?”
“Hi Preston, you home?” I responded, and then added “Alone?”
“Yeah, of course. What’s up?”
“I’m ready to talk. Can I come over?” I preferred to talk at his place so that I would be able to leave if I needed to. I still wasn’t sure if I could handle this, but a promise is a promise.
“Absolutely, I’ll be here all night. Whenever you’re ready.” His tone was relaxed.
“Ok, see you in twenty,” I replied.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Pulling into his driveway was the easy part. It was the raw sexuality of his presence standing on the porch that kept me plastered to the seat. He had been standing on the front porch when I pulled up and must have been waiting here for a few minutes. Especially, considering it had been longer than twenty minutes I anticipated it would take to arrive. I practically drove thirty-five miles an hour the whole way here, well under the limit. Why am I so nervous? It’s Preston, the guy I have been spending my time with for months. I think the most nerve-wracking part of this, was the unknown of where our relationship would stand after our conversation.
A smile reached the corners of his mouth as I stepped out of my SUV and his eyes followed my entire path to his front porch. We stood quietly in front of each other for what seemed like forever before he took the first words right out of my mouth.
“I’ve missed you,” he said with a pained expression.
“Me too,” I replied. I wasn’t sure I was ready to touch him and feel the warmth of an embrace, so I lifted my arm in the direction of the door and said, “After you.” His smile faded slightly and he turned to head inside with me following.
We went straight to the patio. Leading the way and knowing that if I sat on the love seat he would have joined me, I chose the chair by the door instead. The closeness of our bodies would have been too distracting for me to focus. I needed him to know I was upset.
“Can I get you a drink? Water? Wine? Beer?” He asked.
“Beer sounds great, actually.” I could use a little something to take the edge off.
He returned shortly and handed me the beer as he sat on the end of the love seat facing my chair.
“Thank you” I replied as I pulled the coozie out of my purse and he began to laugh.
“You never cease to amaze me,” he replied.
I took a swig of my beer and was ready to listen. I was ready to know why he had a wife and why he felt he couldn’t tell me. With a deep sigh I let him know I was ready, “Ok, I’m all ears.”
“Ok, so…where to begin?” He took a deep breath and continued, “Heather and I met in tenth grade. We had the same circle of friends and went to all the same parties. Our friendship eventually grew into something stronger and we began dating not long after. When we graduated high school and I turned eighteen, I received the money that my grandfather had left me. For a graduation gift, I bought us tickets to Vegas and planned a weeklong vacation. As you can probably guess, we found a way to drink underage and did some dumb things. We ended up a chapel and she took my last name.” He sighed out a long breath and his head dropped in shame. My immediate reaction was laughter, so I covered my mouth with both hands and tried desperately to conceal it. His head picked back up and I couldn’t tell if he was mad or not.
“I’m sorry, it’s not funny. Well...it’s just that… I wasn’t really expecting that. I’m sorry, please continue.” I wasn’t sure where the rest of this story was headed.
“Don’t be sorry. It is funny, but it’s not something I am proud of. We both woke up the next day and didn’t think much of it. We had been together for so long, we just assumed we would be together forever.” This made my heart sink. It was exactly how I always felt about Austin. He grabbed my hand noticing the pain in my eyes and continued his story.
“So when we made it back home, I had to tell my parents. And as expected, it did not go over well. But, it was my life and they are strong believers in letting me learn from my mistakes and be responsible for my actions. They helped us find a house to buy near the campus so that we could move in and start college together in the fall. They were being as supportive as possible, knowing I was making a big mistake. Heather was over the moon and it seemed like it was all working out.” He dropped his gaze again and I knew he was getting to the part that caused him pain. Why aren’t they still together, where does she live if he has the house?
“What happened Preston?” I nudged him to continue.
“Well, we had been living in the house for a few months, and began to fight…a lot. We were young a
nd wanted different things. I thought living together would be great, easy even. But we began to notice how different we were and an immense pressure began to build with the all the responsibility it brought on. We shared a bed, a home, a life. Heather only wanted one thing, freedom. I wanted desperately to make it work and the more I tried, the more she pulled away. After class one afternoon, I came home from school and found a note on the counter. All it said was, ‘I’m sorry, I can’t do this anymore’. And she was gone. Everyone was worried. Her parents claimed they didn’t know where she went; but I knew. She always talked about New York and how she belonged there.” He paused for a moment and with tension between his brows he continued. “What’s strange is that I didn’t go after her.”
“She never called? Or wrote? Nothing?” I whispered.
“Nope. The first time I have heard from her was the night before Thanksgiving.” He looked up at me.
“The phone call,” I whispered in realization. “Why didn’t you tell me? I would have understood.”
“I don’t know. It was just…sudden. I was mad and confused. She called and said she was on her way to the house and I freaked. I didn’t want her anywhere near the house, so I told her to meet me at her parent’s instead. We needed to talk but not here. This is my house. At first, a part of me wanted to sell it when she left, but why? I couldn’t see giving up something amazing for a girl who broke my heart. Instead, I just sold all the furniture we bought together and started fresh. I even remodeled, trying to change it up a bit.”
“Well, why did she come back?” I had to know more. Is he still in love with her? Does this mean they are getting back together?
“She got bored. That’s what she always does. I just figured that if I gave her what I thought she wanted, she wouldn’t get bored. But it was inevitable. That’s why I didn’t go after her. When I read the note, I knew she was gone. As angry as I was, and hurt that she could walk away, I understood. It was painful for a while, but eventually I was okay; relieved even. I was only nineteen. Things got too serious, way too soon. I filed for divorce, but since we couldn’t exactly locate her, it was never finalized. When I showed up at her parents, she was all apologies and said she wanted to make it work.” His eyes lifted and he looked directly into mine.
Picking up the Pieces Page 18