28. Annabelle
Annabelle
I miss Sawyer. It’s a dangerous feeling for a woman like me.
It’s been a hell of a week, and there’s nothing I want more than to fall into his embrace.
My body is weary, my mind a mess. Anxiety is a friend I’ve had for a while, but what’s been happening around here lately has taken it to a whole new level.
It’s been days, and I still don’t know what to do.
It’s clear someone was on my land. I’ve lost half my crops to what looks to be a deliberate act of sabotage.
My lavender was cut haphazardly, trodden on, ripped up.
Like a bunch of kids came through on bikes and had a field day.
But I know it wasn’t kids. There were no bike marks, and kids would not be all the way out here, at night, cutting fences and ruining farmland, just for the fun of it.
I probably should’ve called the sheriff, let him know, and started an investigation.
But that’ll just take time, scare my kids, bring people onto my land who’ll ask me questions, which will have them worried about my mental state, because I can’t connect anything about what’s happening on the farm to anyone.
I have no enemies. I have nothing of value.
No one has any reason to want anything from me.
The kids and I have spent every night after school trying to clean up the mess.
Burning the damaged bushes, raking the soil, and now the entire half of that field is barren.
Thank God it's on the side of the farm no one sees. It can't be seen from the house or the road. Bob’s the only one who would notice it, but he’s barely on that side of his land, and since he hasn’t said anything, I'm assuming he hasn’t seen it.
It’s hard to miss now, with half a field just brown soil, the other half flourishing with lavender bushes.
Now my yield for this year will be much lower than we expected, unless I can plant more over the next few weeks and somehow get more bushes into the ground.
As it is, I’ve run out of room. I would love more land to grow more and have different varieties.
But with no money and no chance of a loan, I’ve had to squeeze in as much as I can into the footprint of land I’ve got.
I’m relieved the soil is resilient and still in excellent condition, but I’ll need to spend the next few nights after work making cuttings from the healthier plants I have and replanting them, watering them well, and hoping and praying they take.
And unless I get some growing soon, the lack of lavender will have a direct impact on how many soaps I can make for distribution next year, and therefore decrease the income that I could receive.
The whole thing leaves me feeling sick to my stomach, especially now that Saturdays are taken up with baseball, leaving me with only Sunday and late nights after school to get everything done.
I’ve never had a break or taken a vacation, and right now, I feel like I really need it.
My body is sore. I’m tired, having worked twenty-hour days since Sawyer left.
My hands are a mess, digging in dirt and pulling bushes, leaving me with a few scratches and broken nails.
Poor Kevin is just as exhausted, but every night after school, he’s with me, as is Noah, the three of us a formidable team.
The sun is starting to set, and even though we have a lot more to do, I need to get the kids bathed and fed and put to bed. I set the casserole to cook while we were down in the lavender fields. I’m not sure what time Sawyer is coming, but I assume it’ll be late.
But as we walk up to the house, I see him standing by his truck, looking at his phone.
“Seesaw!” Noah yells and starts to giggle, which makes me smile.
Sawyer looks up immediately, pocketing his cell, his grin as wide as mine. “Hey, buddy.”
Noah runs to him, and he picks him up, giving him a bear hug that looks all too good. It’s clear that my youngest boy is just as smitten as I am.
“Hey, Kevin.” He puts Noah down, and my older son walks up to him.
“Hey,” is all he gets, but this time, it’s with a head nod, so we have some progress. The way Sawyer is grinning, I assume he’s happy with that less-than-stellar greeting.
“Go clean up for dinner, boys. I’ll be in after I put these in the shed.” My arm aches from holding the gardening gear in my hands, along with a shovel, hoe, rake, and buckets. You name it, I seem to be holding it.
“Hey, Mama.” Sawyer takes a step toward me, arms out and ready to hold me.
“No! I’m all dirty!” I take a step back, not wanting to ruin his suit. Because, as usual, he looks completely fresh and polished, and I have dirt covering me from top to toe.
“You couldn’t look more beautiful if you tried. Come here.” He grabs my hand, and I put down my tools and do as he asks.
I walk to him and his hand moves around my waist. I'm not sure if my boys are watching, but I let Sawyer pull me close, his lips touching mine, his kiss searing, making me feel like he might’ve missed me as much as I missed him.
“You alright?” His brow crumples a little as he looks down at me, and I offer him a small smile.
I sigh. “Just another day on the farm.”
He hugs me close, and as my head hits his chest, I close my eyes to keep the tears at bay.
“You sure?” He clearly knows me too well, as his finger meets my chin and he lifts my head a little to look me in the eye.
“Just tired.”
His lips thin, not convinced.
“Are you doing something on the other side of the farm? I was over at Bob’s place before, and I saw the lavender was all pulled up.”
I think my heart stalls.
“Oh… um… yeah, just replanting.” My hand reaches up to twirl a lock of hair that’s fallen from my ponytail.
“You know, if there’s something going on here, you can tell me.
” His fingers brush across my forehead and I swallow, my heart now racing, wanting to tell him everything.
But when I open my mouth, nothing comes out.
Years of my husband telling me not to rely on outsiders, telling me that we shouldn’t have people in our business, telling me that we need to do things alone.
The history of mental abuse I suffered suffocates me, and I start to panic.
“Hey… just breathe, Annabelle.”
I look up at him, my eyes watering, feeling like I can’t gather a full breath. I have no idea what’s happening.
“Just slow your breathing… Keep your eyes on mine, baby…” His voice is calming, and I take in a shaky, shallow breath.
“Okay. Try taking a deeper breath. I’m here. I’m right here…”
I breathe in again slowly, my chest hurting. His scent smells nice, welcoming, safe, his hands warm as they grip on to mine.
“You don’t need to tell me anything you don’t want to. But I know something’s going on here, and I’m worried.”
All I can do is nod, the words still not coming out. But my breathing settles, and my hands that were shaking start to relax.
Sawyer looks at me seriously, searching my face. “Are you in danger out here, Mama?”
I can’t lie to him. I can lie to everyone else, but I can’t lie to him.
“I don’t know…” I whisper honestly, and I see his shoulders stiffen.
“I’ll stay tonight. I just need to run out for about an hour or so after dinner. My brother is flying in to stay with me for a while, and then I will come right back.” He doesn’t seem happy about any of it, and I shake my head.
“I’m fine. We’re fine.”
“I know you are, but I’m not. I’d rather be here with you, just to be sure. Who knows, maybe tonight will be the night we break your bed…” He adds some humor, making me smile, and I’m grateful he’s letting me off lightly.
I lift onto my toes and press my lips to his. “Thank you.”
Giving me one more hug, he says, “I got you guys some things. Let’s go inside.”
It’s then I notice a few bags at his feet.
“You've been shopping?” I quickly put my tools away and pull myself together.
“Just got the boys and you some things.” He takes my hand again, and we walk inside.
“Seesaw!” Noah says immediately as I move to the kitchen to check on dinner. All the while, I take some deep breaths to settle my nerves, which are now almost completely shot after the week I’ve had.
“Boys, I brought gifts,” Sawyer tells them as he sits on the sofa, and I lean against the kitchen counter, watching them in the living room.
“What is it?” Noah peeks in the bags inquisitively, and I grin. I look at Kevin then, who’s sitting off to the side, obviously trying to act cool, but given we’ve never had anyone bring gifts like this before, I can see excitement in his eyes.
“Here.” Sawyer puts a cap on Noah, the logo familiar, and I look back at Kevin quickly, his expression brightening.
“Kevin… this is for you.” Sawyer pulls out a baseball jersey.
“Is that signed?” Kevin’s eyes nearly bug out of his head.
“Yeah, well, they’re your favorite team, right?” Sawyer asks him as he stands and walks over to where Kevin is.
“Yeah. But how?” Kevin asks in disbelief, staring at the jersey that’s covered in signatures.
“Well…” Sawyer scratches the back of his head, looking a little sheepish. “There’s probably something I should come clean about.”
Kevin looks at him, and my brow crumples, having no idea what he’s going to say.
“I own the Mets.”
Sawyer’s words have me snapping my eyes back to him in shock. This is news to me, and I’m just as flabbergasted as Kevin.
“What?” Kevin looks at me, unsure, like he does when he doesn’t understand something at school. Sawyer glances at me for a moment, then brings his attention back to my son.
“Well, in a lot of sports, teams are owned by businessmen. I love the Mets, like you, and I grew up wanting to play for them. So when I had some success in my business, I put in an offer to buy and, well… here we are a few years later, and I’m part owner.”
“You? Own the Mets?” Kevin is in complete disbelief, and my heart starts racing all over again, understanding washing over me at exactly how wealthy Sawyer is.