Chapter 39
CHAPTER
39
Sawyer had never seen his sister drunk.
He’d been six when she’d finished school and moved out, the last of his sisters to abandon him. Though that was unfair. With the large age gap between him and his siblings, what had he expected? All the Manns couldn’t wait to escape the overbearing presence of their father and the tolerant silence of their mother as soon as they finished school.
He hadn’t missed Jocelyn and Phoebe as much as Allison, because they’d been sixteen and fourteen when he’d been born and already firmly entrenched in teen life: boys, boys, and boys. At twelve, Alli had more patience and had mothered him all through toddlerhood and beyond. He’d been distraught when she’d left home, a six-year old all alone with parents who existed in frigid silence—when his father wasn’t abusing his mother, that is.
So to see Alli grinning like a loon after three espresso martinis made him equal parts happy and wary: happy she’d had an opportunity to relax, wary that Mick wouldn’t like coming home to a tipsy wife.
‘The kids should be home any minute,’ she said, ending on a hiccup, and giggled. ‘Lucky, I got a friend to drop them off.’ She held up two fingers in front of her face and squinted. ‘I think I’m hammered.’
‘Maybe you should’ve had more espresso, less martini?’ he said, with a grin, and she giggled again, a girlish sound at odds with the weary expression she’d worn earlier.
‘I never cut loose.’ She snorted. ‘I’ll have a coffee now. Want one?’
He shook his head. ‘I’m good. But I’m guessing I’ll be helping the kids with their homework tonight?’
‘Considering when I held up two fingers a moment ago I saw four, I think that’s probably wise.’ She paused at the sink, kettle in hand. ‘Thank goodness Mick will be home late tonight.’
Sawyer stiffened, knowing it wasn’t his place to pry into his sister’s marriage, especially when he’d been lousy with keeping in touch, but concern driving him to ask, ‘Why’s that? Wouldn’t he approve of you having a few drinks?’
She rolled her eyes. ‘The running of the household is my domain, and he likes everything shipshape.’
Code for, he’s a controlling prick.
Treading carefully, Sawyer said, ‘He treats you well, yeah? And the kids?’
‘He’s a good provider most of the time. And he loves us.’ She turned her back on him, effectively shutting him out, as she filled the kettle with water. ‘But let’s not talk about my mundane marriage. You’re killing my buzz.’
Yeah, there could be problems in his sister’s marriage, and he hoped she’d confide in him by the time he left town. Then again, what could he do? He had a feeling Allison, like many women, had resigned herself to a lacklustre marriage for the sake of her kids and wouldn’t leave Mick, no matter how much of a bastard he was, sacrificing her sense of self to provide her kids with the illusion of a happy family.
That’s what his mother had done for him, and he blamed himself every damn day for tethering her to Henry for far too long.
A tooting horn, followed by loud voices yelling ‘bye’, heralded the arrival of Brett and Aimee. Alli’s face lit up in a way he hadn’t seen until now as the kids barrelled into the kitchen, dumping their bags at the back door and skidding to a stop when they saw him.
‘Hey, it’s Uncle Sawyer from our chats on your computer, Mum,’ Aimee said, eyeing him with blatant curiosity. ‘We haven’t seen you here before.’
‘Yeah, you’ve never visited,’ Brett muttered, his frown and puckering brow so reminiscent of Alli’s that Sawyer had to stifle a smile.
‘That’s my fault, kids. I’ve been too busy with work when I should’ve been making time to visit my favourite niece and nephew.’
He picked up the bags he’d stashed beside the dresser. ‘I’ve brought you something I hope you’ll like.’
He knew he’d gone overboard with the latest handheld video gaming console and two games each, but he felt bad for waiting so long to meet them face-to-face and hoped a little bribery might buy him forgiveness.
Both kids were rendered mute as they looked inside the bags, then back at him before peering into the bags again.
‘Wow,’ they said in unison, looking at each other with wide eyes like they couldn’t believe their luck.
‘What do you say?’ Alli prompted.
Aimee said, ‘Thanks, Uncle Sawyer,’ a moment before Brett did.
‘Perhaps once you get your homework finished, we can set up the systems and play a few games?’
‘That’d be awesome,’ Brett said, eyeing him with grudging respect. ‘Do you know how to play the games, though?’
‘You can show me if it’s too hard.’
He’d said the right thing, because Brett beamed, and Aimee said, ‘Let’s do our homework super-fast so we can play with Uncle Sawyer.’
‘Sounds like a plan,’ Sawyer said, casting a glance at Alli who nodded in approval.
‘Go wash your hands, get changed, then you can have a snack while you work,’ Alli said, already slicing strawberries, rockmelon, and watermelon and arranging them on a platter.
The kids scrambled from the kitchen so fast they jostled for position through the doorway.
‘They’re cute,’ he said, earning another smile of approval, this time from Alli.
‘They’re my world,’ she said, the simplicity of her statement underscored with love. ‘I’d do anything for them.’
Which virtually proved his theory: she was stuck in a dead-end marriage to a bastard for the sake of her kids.
‘I’ve made you a coffee even though you said you didn’t want one.’ She handed him a mug and placed a plate of choc chip cookies on the table, along with the fruit platter. ‘You’re annoyingly sober.’
‘One of us had to be the designated driver, and with you guzzling those martinis …’ He made a skolling motion with his hand to his mouth, and she laughed.
‘Thanks for this afternoon, little brother. I had a great time catching up.’
‘Me too.’ He squeezed her shoulder, and she leaned her head against his hand for a moment, before straightening. ‘Now, I hope you’ve got the patience of a saint because Brett can’t sit still long enough to solve maths problems and takes forever to complete any English tasks.’
Sawyer froze, his blood turning to ice. He could be jumping to conclusions. There could be any number of reasons why a tenyear-old boy couldn’t sit still to do his homework: he hated school, would rather be outside playing sport, he’d had a rough day and was tired. He should know. He’d used all those excuses and more.
But there could be another, more serious reason his nephew couldn’t sit still or took a long time to problem-solve. A learning difficulty. Or ADHD.
After all, it ran in the family.
Before he could ask a question, Alli continued. ‘Then again, it’s not just confined to homework. I hear the same thing at parent–teacher interviews. ‘Brett’s a great kid but can’t sit still in class. Brett’s a daydreamer. Brett prefers to be outdoors than confined inside. Blah, blah, blah.’ Her smile was that of an indulgent mother. ‘As long as my kids are happy and healthy, I don’t care. We can’t all be brain surgeons, right?’
‘Right.’
But kids who have genuine learning disabilities or ADHD can be diagnosed and help was available, two things he wished he’d known growing up.
He often wondered how different his life could’ve been if he’d been aware of what he was dealing with earlier, and if he could help his nephew in any way, he would.
However, before he could reveal his diagnosis to Alli, the kids ran into the kitchen and the moment was lost. He’d find another time. Time when he could stand up and be the uncle he hadn’t been until now.