15. Ava
CHAPTER 15
Ava
FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL
We’re not even in the preschool parking lot yet, but I’m already about to burst into tears.
Ignoring the knot of emotion in my chest, I attempt to sing along to “Happy Birthday.” It’s Junie’s current favorite song, probably because we sang it to my mom last week for her sixtieth birthday.
“No, Mommy, you got it wrong!” She meets my eyes in the rearview mirror. “We’re singing to me , not to Mimi.”
“Oh. Right. I’m sorry, honey. You know your birthday isn’t for a while yet, right?”
My daughter smiles at me. “Mimi said I can celebrate all the days. Even Saturdays.”
I blink, tears welling in my eyes. This morning was yet again a disaster getting June out the door. She wants to do everything herself, which means making breakfast, getting dressed, and packing her lunch took a small eternity. Then there was the fiasco about her wanting to wear her sparkly rain boots instead of her sneakers, which resulted in an epic meltdown that lasted twenty minutes. Then she randomly decided it was time to beg me to let her play with sidewalk chalk. She’s been obsessed with the stuff ever since our playdate with Ella.
In short, my daughter, like all three-year-olds, can be difficult as hell.
Right now, though, she’s so fucking cute that I feel like my heart is about to burst right out of my chest.
When did she get so big? It’s so true what they say about the days being long, but the years being short. I can’t believe it’s time for my baby to go to school.
“I like that idea.” I hit my blinker and guide my Subaru into the preschool parking lot. It’s already busy, minivans and SUVs crowding the lot. Moms and Dads walk hand in hand with their kids toward the adorable farmhouse-turned-preschool, which sits beneath a pair of enormous oak trees.
My stomach flips. I think I’m even more nervous for Junie’s first day of school than I was for my own.
But June? She literally lets out a squeal of delight. “Mommy, is this my school?”
“It sure is.” I park and turn off the car. Tucking my hair behind my ears, I give my eyes a discreet wipe before putting on my sunglasses. “Isn’t it so cute? And look at all those kids! Junie, you’re going to have so much fun.”
She wiggles her little legs. “Can you unbuckle me, Mommy?”
“Let’s call Daddy really quick, okay? He wanted to talk to you before you go in.”
Junie pouts. “But I don’t want to talk to Daddy. I want to go to school.”
My chest clenches. I’d rather pry out my eyeballs than talk to Dan right now, but I feel guilty he’s not here for this.
Then again, that’s kind of his fault. He said he had to work this morning—that’s always his excuse—so he couldn’t make the hour-long drive to Hartsville. Of course he was all annoyed that I couldn’t push Junie’s first day to a date that was more convenient for him, but I’ve learned to stick to my guns.
Junie comes first. Always. I tried for years to accommodate Dan, bending over backward to keep him happy. Or, at the very least, keep him from being angry or grumpy. I always had dinner ready and June occupied when he got home from work so he could relax. I’d take her out of the house on the weekends so he could nap or watch football. I maintained solid relationships with both our families, and made sure we split holidays evenly so no one’s feelings got hurt. I planned every birthday party. Took June to every appointment and gave her a bath every night, all in the hope that Dan would never feel overwhelmed or resentful.
I did everything to the point that I was the one who ended up drowning in resentment. And yet no matter how hard I tried—how often I sacrificed my well-being, or my daughter’s—Dan was still a dark cloud hanging over our lives. There’s no pleasing the man.
Which is why, when I got the email about a spot opening up for Junie in the threes class, I immediately took it, even though I knew Dan would give me a hard time about “not involving” him more in the timing—despite the fact that he agreed Junie needed to be in school.
It’s a classic case of damned if I do, damned if I don’t. No wonder our marriage didn’t last. Being Dan’s wife was like living in a cage.
Amazing how different I feel when I’m with Sawyer. I haven’t stopped thinking about our conversation at the park. It was fun and funny and real.
It was, in short, just what I needed.
Back in Austin, I’d felt so free when we were together. I could do no wrong. I didn’t have to babysit his feelings. Manage his expectations.
I just did what I wanted, and Sawyer didn’t mind that one bit.
In fact, he’d seemed to relish it. Same way he relished my honesty at the park. I hate feeling like I can’t be real with someone, especially about things like parenthood and family. My forthrightness used to embarrass Dan. He’d call me an oversharer and counsel me to be a little classier. A little quieter.
Somehow, I know Sawyer would hate me being quiet.
But that’s neither here nor there. Sawyer is a friend. A parent friend, the father of June’s new BFF. Sure, he’s sexy as hell. But that doesn’t mean we’ll ever have a repeat of Austin. Life is too good in Hartsville right now. I have no desire to rock the boat.
I grab my phone and hit Dan’s number, holding it up so Junie can see the screen.
He picks up and smiles. “Hey, June Bug!”
“Hey, Daddy,” she says.
“Today’s such a big day for you,” he replies. “Are you excited?”
“Yeah.”
His eyes cut to me. “Well, I wish I could be there. I’m so sorry to miss it.”
“Okay.” June glances out the window and tugs at her car seat straps.
I bite back a smile. “Junie, aren’t you excited?”
“Yes! Can we go now?”
It’s obvious Dan is trying to keep his annoyance in check. Rolling his lips between his teeth, he pastes on that smile again. “I tried to be there, Bug. I want you to know that. I’m really sad I’m not holding your hand right now.”
It’s all I can do not to roll my eyes. Dan’s attempts to guilt-trip me used to get me riled up, but now I just feel sorry for the guy. How insecure do you have to be to try to make the mother of your child feel bad at the expense of that child?
It’s no secret that June prefers me to him. I didn’t engineer it that way as some sort of evil master plan, the way Dan thinks I did. I just showed up for my daughter. I did the hard work of caretaking—the late-night feedings, the baths, the playtime—while Dan … didn’t. I told him time and time again that if he wanted June to bond with him, he had to participate more. He’d always promise to do better, try harder.
But he never did. Which is how we ended up separated when Junie turned one, and divorced when she was two.
“Bye, Daddy!” June says. “Mommy, can you please unbuckle me now?”
“Magic word?”
“Please please please!”
“Okay.” I angle the phone so I face the screen. “I’ll report back on how it goes.”
“Not like I can do anything about it if it doesn’t go well.”
Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath. “All right, Dan. We’ll talk later.”
“Bye, Junie!” He waves, then hangs up.
Nice of him to ask how I’m doing.
Then again, what did I expect? Dan never asked about me when we were married.
Still, it’d be nice to have a little moral support here. Dan thinks I chose to go through this alone, but I didn’t. I’d love to have someone hold my hand right now.
I’d love to have someone at least try to make me feel better about the fact that I’m dropping my daughter off with strangers at a strange place for the first time.
I don’t have that someone. But I do have Junie. And I’m determined to make sure she has the best first day at school ever.
Together, she and I walk toward a door on the side of the building. Per the instructions sent to me in an email, this is the entrance for both of the threes classes. An older woman with short brown hair and kind eyes stands at the open door.
“Is this June?” she asks, her face creasing into a smile. “I’m Ms. Sherman. It’s so nice to meet you.”
I paste on a smile of my own, trying very hard not to cry when Junie gets shy all of a sudden and tucks herself against my legs.
“This is June, yes.” I run a hand over her back. “She’s so excited for her first day. Isn’t that right, Junie?”
She doesn’t say anything, but she does nod.
Am I making the right decision? I feel like she’s ready for school, but maybe starting in the middle of the year like this was a bad idea. She’s just been through so much change. Too much. To add school to the list—what was I thinking ? —
“How about this?” Ms. Sherman bends at the waist, holding out her hand to June. “You and I can hold hands while we go inside. That way you’re not alone, okay?”
The lump in my throat is so big that it’s difficult to breathe. “That’s so kind of you, Ms. Sherman.”
“We’re going to have a ball today. We’ll read books, and we’ll play on the playground, and we’ll even get to play with glitter!”
“Glitter? Wow!” I give June’s shoulder a squeeze. “June loves glitter, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” she says quietly.
The New Parent Handbook the school gave me said to make drop-off as quick as possible. Makes sense—the longer you linger, the better chance there is of your kid having a meltdown.
Still feels wrong to gently pry my daughter off my legs. “You’re going to do so great. I’ll be back soon, okay?”
She looks up at me. Now her eyes are filled with tears. “But Mommy?—”
“Junie!”
We all look up at the shout from the parking lot. Everything inside me heaves when I see a familiar figure— two familiar figures—heading our way.
Sawyer looks pleasantly surprised as he raises a hand in greeting.
It’s all I can do not to slam my palm against my head. Duh . Of course his daughter goes to this preschool. It’s the only one in the area.
Of course he’d show up right when I do. Barely a minute’s difference. My stomach flips again, for a different reason this time. I’m not sure I believe in fate. But if I did, I’d think it was telling me something. This is the third time I’ve randomly run into Sawyer Rivers. Maybe it’s not so random anymore.
I like that idea . I like it a lot more than I should. Maybe because I’m hit by a wave of something like … relief. I don’t know Sawyer or Ella well, but they’re not total strangers. Seeing some familiar faces in such an unfamiliar place is comforting.
“Junie! Hi!” Ella comes running, her pigtails bouncing.
“Mommy!” June jumps up, releasing her hold on me. “Mommy, it’s Yella!”
Laughing, I blink when a tear slips out of my eye. “I think you mean Ella.”
Ella drops her tote bag and collides with June, the two of them wrapping each other in a fierce hug like they haven’t seen each other in years.
“I like your braid.” Ella runs her hand over Junie’s hair.
Junie giggles. “Thanks. My mom did it.”
Sawyer’s deep, rumbling laugh sends a delicious shiver up my spine. “You gotta stop followin’ me around, Ava.”
I try not to stare as he stops a few feet away and tucks his hands into the pockets of his vest. Not an easy task, considering how hot he looks.
But really, how does he look this good this early? I feel like I’ve been run through a blender, and I’m sure I look like it too. Truth be told, I can’t remember if I brushed my teeth.
Please, God, let me have brushed my teeth.
“Technically, you’re the one who showed up after me.” I tuck my hair behind my ear. “Doesn’t that make you the follower?”
The side of his mouth kicks up. “Guess it does, yeah.”
Sawyer is in jeans and cowboy boots. He fills out the denim button-up underneath his vest to perfection, his shoulders and arms looking especially broad limned in the bright morning light.
He’s wearing that fucking backward hat again, his dark hair curling out from underneath it. And his scruff, the mustache, the dimples?—
I am a dead woman.
Even Ms. Sherman is blushing when she waves at him. “Morning, Sawyer. Y’all know each other?”
“We sure do. These turkeys”—he nods at the girls—“were tearin’ a rug at the Wallaces’ barn raising this weekend.”
“How fun! I’m so glad June already has a friend on her first day.”
Sawyer’s blue eyes meet mine. “We feeling some nerves this morning?”
He’s obviously asking about Junie. But the way he looks at me—the soft, knowing gleam in his eyes—makes me think he’s asking about me too.
“Some, yeah.” My voice wobbles.
His kindness is making it harder to fight the tears.
The skin around Sawyer’s eyes crinkles. “It only gets easier from here, I promise. No one knows that better than me.”
Ms. Sherman laughs. “It’s true. Ella had a rather lengthy adjustment period this year.”
“And by that, she means Ella cried every day she came to school for what felt like months. Now look at her.” Sawyer lifts his hand, which is still in his pocket, to gesture at his daughter. “All smiles. School is a happy place, and they’re in good hands with Ms. Sherman here.”
I swallow, hard. “Thanks for that.”
“And you.” Sawyer crouches so he’s eye level with June. “You’re going to march into that classroom, and you’re going to have the best day ever, right?”
Be still my beating heart. It’s jarring—jarringly wonderful—to see June being cared for this way by a man other than her dad.
The man who chose to go to work over being here right now.
Because apparently no one on earth is immune to Sawyer’s charm, my daughter smiles and nods. “Can we sing ‘Happy Birthday’ in school?”
Ms. Sherman claps her hands. “As a matter of fact, it’s Nolan’s birthday today, so we’ll definitely be singing to him. You girls ready to come inside? Get your bags from your parents.”
“See?” Sawyer asks, handing his own daughter the tote bag she dropped. “You’re gonna love it here, June. Shine bright today.”
My heart flutters. At the same time, my eyes fill all over again. I’m glad I wore my sunglasses.
I hand Junie her bag and give her a quick hug. “Have a great time, okay?”
“Okay.”
Funny how quickly kids adapt. Next thing I know, the girls are taking Ms. Sherman’s outstretched hands and heading inside. My chest cramps as June climbs the steps and moves through the door.
Ms. Sherman glances at me over her shoulder. “She’s going to be just fine, Mom. You did great. See you at twelve thirty.”
I let the tears fall because I can’t hold them in anymore. “Thank you. Bye, girls!”
I watch until Junie disappears into the classroom. Trying my damnedest to hide my sniffles, I turn to Sawyer and manage a tight grin.
“Thanks for the assist.”
He looks at me steadily, intently, his forehead grooved. “Sometimes I think all these firsts are harder for us than they are for them. After dropping Ella off the day school started, I sat in my truck and cried until pickup. I looked so puffy that Ms. Sherman asked me if I’d had an allergic reaction to something.”
I’m laughing and I’m crying, and it feels … kinda good, actually. “Really?”
“You think I’d make that up?” His dimples appear when he smiles. “I’m a worrier. Always have been.”
“Hard not to be when you’re a parent.” I lift my shoulder to wipe away my tears. “But thanks for the commiseration. No one tells you about this stuff. How hard it is.”
He lifts a brow. “You okay?”
My heart takes a tumble. Wasn’t I just saying to myself how much I wished someone would check in on me? The universe must’ve been listening, because here he is—the guy who’s not only asking if I’m okay, but who also cares what my answer is.
Somehow I know Sawyer cares. Deeply.
“I’m okay.” The reply is automatic. I don’t know what else to say.
“You don’t seem okay.”
I chuckle. “What makes you think that?”
“You just dropped your sweet baby off at a new school in a new town for the first time. No one is okay after that.”
I’m hit by the urge to sob. Why does Sawyer have to get it ?
Why does he have to make me feel seen and looked after and safe? It’s so, so nice, but also so, so scary. I could fall for a guy that makes me feel like this.
I could fall hard, and I could fall fast. Then what? I run the risk of being disappointed all over again, because that’s what men do—they let you down just when you need them the most.
I thought I was fine with falling in love. Marriage? Hell no. But love, when it’s good, can be wonderful. In my heart of hearts, I know it’s the wrong move to keep myself closed off to the possibility of finding it again. I want to teach Junie that being brave is worth it, and that letting love in is always the right choice.
But life makes that difficult sometimes. It’s easier to shut away the soft, vulnerable parts of you and focus on getting shit done, even though there’s a part of me that resents being a productivity machine. It sucks, but it’s simple. Straightforward.
Nothing about the way Sawyer makes me feel is simple or straightforward. He already has me tangled up in the best, most tantalizing way. Which is why I should get out of here. Go home.
But I can’t make my feet move. I don’t need to work, I need a hug. Or at the very least, a sympathetic ear to bend.
“Part of me is so ready for Junie to grow up,” I say. “I can’t wait for the tantrums to stop, and for her to, you know, wipe her own bottom every once in a while. But another part of me aches at the thought of her not being a baby anymore. Like, how in the world is she already going to school? She was born two weeks ago.”
Sawyer laughs, looking down to swipe his boot over the cracked pavement. “I know that feeling. They grow up too fast and not fast enough.”
“Did you enjoy the baby stage?”
He nods. “I did, yeah. But I think I enjoy this stage more.”
“I do too. I just”—I blink, tears spilling out of my eyes left and right—“she’s such a cool little person, and I miss her already, but I’m also glad to get a break, and …”
Sawyer looks up. For a split second I think I’ve gone into cardiac arrest, my heart tripping to a sudden, painful stop at the naked interest in his eyes. It’s edged with heat.
Or maybe that’s just wishful thinking. Whatever the case, a spark of arousal ignites low in my center.
“You wanna go grab a coffee or something?” he asks.
My heart starts working again, two hundred beats per minute. My brain, however, flatlines, which is probably why I blurt, “I’d love to. But please don’t miss work on my account?—”
“I’m not leaving you crying in a parking lot, Ava. Work can wait.” He tips his head toward our cars. “C’mon, there’s a coffee shop on Main. Follow me—I’m in the black Silverado.”