The Magic of Light

Chapter

Eleven

Sawyer

“What do you enjoy doing in your free time?” Soren asked.

I paused. My mind raced through the last hour that led to me sitting on Soren’s porch swing. He was Abel’s brother, and he wanted to get to know me. His blunt words made me think of Talia. A smile tugged at my lips.

“Hmmm, I work a lot, but I love baking. I dropped off a chocolate chip cookie dough cheesecake for Talia before I came over here. I run almost every day, which is a good thing since I enjoy baking so much. I enjoy watching baseball and football. I don’t understand all the rules, but sometimes I simply turn on a game for background noise. I listen to games like some people listen to coffee shop music. It makes me feel calm. I tried basketball, but the sound of their shoes on the floor . . .” I cringed. A small smile tipped his mouth. “It didn’t have the same effect.” I surprised myself with how much I had shared. There was something about him that was comfortable. It was a sentiment I was unfamiliar with experiencing this quickly with people, and sometimes I never felt it at all, regardless of how long I knew someone.

His hazel eyes up close were a work of art with speckles of blue, green, and copper. They made me think of a stained glass art project I did in high school. All the pieces of broken glass were blues and greens overlapped in a box, creating something beautiful even before they were assembled. Broken stained glass always made me think of my life. There were innumerable pieces, but I wasn’t sure how to piece them together. Who was I kidding? The pieces of my life weren’t big enough to be shards of glass. My life resembled debris that floated in the air after a bomb exploded on my favorite TV show about a group of Texas rangers. My life was like shattered dust. I didn’t have anything to offer this man. I could barely manage to maintain the one friendship I had. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to try. Relationships of any kind were challenging for me. I smiled, I made people feel comfortable, all the while, my mind raced, trying to catch up because it was so preoccupied logging every potential threat around me. I was self-aware enough to know I was different. My mind was in a constant state of overworking to fit in. YouTube was bookmarked on my laptop to watch how-to videos, which was something I did regularly. I had been diagnosed by a psychologist with attachment disorders along with C-PTSD. I understood the gist of it all because Talia had answered endless questions. Sometimes I felt as though I was broken beyond repair because in the end, how can you build anything from dust?

“Sawyer?”

I jolted.

“I’m sorry. I missed what you said.” His too observant eyes roved my face, making me feel exposed but not uncomfortable.

“I played baseball and football in high school. I could teach you the rules if you’re interested?”

He stood, gathering our trash and placing it back in the brown paper bag.

“Thank you. I’d like that. Do you still play?” I asked, although I have no intention of ever seeking him out. People say all kinds of things they’d never do out of courtesy. We walked toward the door and he turned back to answer while halfway in the door.

“From time to time, we’ll have baseball tournaments for fundraisers. The week of the county fair we put together an adult rec league to play. I mostly stay busy with—” He cut off when his cell phone rang. He checked the screen and frowned.

“I’m sorry I need to take this.”

He walked inside toward the kitchen to toss the trash, putting the phone to his ear.

He answered with a simple, “Yeah.”

It was beyond clear he was not excited to take this call. I briefly contemplated why he answered if he obviously didn’t want to talk, but I reminded myself that it was none of my business. I stayed in the family room, unsure if I should follow. I noted again how tidy his house was, and it gave me a sense of peace similar to my duplex. I could hear his voice occasionally, but not his exact words. A small, wallet-size framed photo on the mantel caught my eye and I walked closer, not having noticed it on Thursday. It was a photo of Abel and Soren. Abel was about fifteen or sixteen with a ball cap flipped backward, and Soren had an arm resting over his shoulders in a man version of a side hug. Both were smiling as if they were having the best day ever. My heart warmed knowing Abel had been completely adored.

“Sawyer?” I jumped and turned toward Soren. His face softened as he saw what I was studying.

“That was on his sixteenth birthday.” He walked closer. “I have a situation I have to handle. I’m sorry, but I have to leave. I’ll drop you off at your Jeep.” There was a line of concern on his forehead, clearly not happy with whatever he had to deal with. Within fifteen minutes, we were back to my car, and I waved a quick goodbye and thanks for lunch as I jumped out.

“Wait,” he called. I turned back.

“Can I have your number?” he asked hesitantly.

“Sure.”

He pulled out his phone and typed in my number as I called it out. My phone vibrated immediately from a text. He waved as I loaded up in my Jeep. I swiped open my phone and saw the text from him.

Soren:

Thanks, Pretty Girl. I’ll see you around.

I smiled when I read “Pretty Girl.” It was as though there were a thousand butterflies in my belly taking flight. I didn’t know what it was about Soren, but I had this immediate connection with him similar to the one I had with Abel. A sense of instant safety that simultaneously made me want to run. The safe feeling made me feel unsafe. I was such a mess.