Chapter Twelve #2
November had come in with a definite chill, as if to say Enough of this wishy-washy weather.
It’s fall now, and winter’s just around the corner.
Brace yourself. She drove home, gathered her things from the passenger seat, and was headed toward the porch when Sawyer’s door opened and she burst out in a flurry, her coat hanging off one arm as she locked the door behind her.
“Hey,” Jenna said. “Everything okay?”
Sawyer was clearly frazzled. “No. No, it’s not. Courtney’s headed to the hospital. She’s bleeding and freaking out.” She stuck her arm into a coat sleeve.
“Oh my God. Okay. Don’t panic. That happens sometimes.” She put a hand on Sawyer’s arm. “Do you want me to go with you?”
Sawyer shook her head. Jenna could feel the tremble in her arm, even through the coat. “No.” She met Jenna’s gaze, and the way she suddenly calmed was clear and surprising. She took a deep breath and put her warm hand over Jenna’s on her arm. “No. Thank you. I’m okay.”
Jenna nodded. “All right. You’re okay to drive?” The hospital wasn’t terribly far away.
“I am.” Sawyer cleared her throat.
“Good. I’m here for the night, so text if you need anything.” She squeezed Sawyer’s arm for emphasis. “I mean it. Anything.”
Sawyer’s turn to nod. “Okay. Thank you.”
“Keep me posted if you get a chance.”
“I will.” Sawyer hurried down the front steps, then turned in the lawn. “Thanks, Jenna.”
“Of course. Any time.” She waved her away. “Go. I’ll be here.”
She watched as Sawyer got in her car, backed out, and drove away, a rush of worry filling her heart. As she stood on the porch in the cold autumn air, she sent up a prayer for Courtney and her baby, whispering it aloud and sending it off on a cloud of vapor.
What had been meant as a relaxing evening off became an evening of nerves and worry.
Rather than setting her phone on its charger, as she usually did when she was home from the shop, she slipped it into her pocket so she wouldn’t miss a text or call, should Sawyer reach out, should she need anything.
“Be so real, Jenna,” she whispered to herself as she fed Arnie, then the cats.
When every four-legger was chowing down, she beat some eggs for the omelet she planned to eat for her own dinner and continued with her quiet self-talk.
“You’re not the person she’s gonna call if she needs something.
She’s got her mom, her dad, she has friends who were around long before you were.
” She paused. “She’s got an ex who probably knows her family way better than you do.
” And with that, she grimaced, not happy with the way that sentence made her feel.
In her pocket, her phone pinged, and she nearly dropped the entire bowl of eggs trying to get to it quickly. But it wasn’t Sawyer. It was Delia asking about a new book.
Jenna sent back a quick response and went back to her dinner, doing her best to push Sawyer and the concern she had for her to the back of her mind. She’ll text when she can. It was all the reassurance she had. She let Arnold out the back to do his business, then got dishes out for herself.
Omelet finished and stuffed with spinach and cheddar, she poured herself a glass of water and carried it all into the living room. Once Arnold was back inside, she sat on the couch and picked up the remote, looking for something to watch while she ate.
She’d settled on an old episode of Friends when Arnold started to bark. Muting the TV, she listened and heard the telltale creaking of a porch floorboard that told her somebody was out there. Hoping Sawyer was home, she pulled the front door open and stuck her head out the storm door.
But it wasn’t Sawyer.
A woman stood at Sawyer’s front door looking slightly out of place and a little frazzled.
It was clear Jenna had startled her, her blue eyes wide with surprise as her hand reached out, not quite touching Sawyer’s door handle.
It took a beat, but when she turned, Jenna recognized her as the same woman who’d been there before. The ex. Amanda.
“Can I help you?” Jenna asked.
The woman cleared her throat. “I was looking for Sawyer.” Her voice was low, and she swallowed audibly. That’s when Jenna noticed that her eyes were red-rimmed, like she was upset. Like she’d been crying maybe.
“Yeah, she’s not home right now.”
“Oh.” The woman made no move to leave, just stood there, as if coming to Sawyer’s house had been the only thing on her list, and now she wasn’t sure what to do. The overhead porch light bounced off her auburn hair as she stood there.
“Do you want me to give her a message?” She wasn’t about to tell this woman where Sawyer was or why, though maybe she should have.
Amanda cleared her throat again. “Um. Yeah. Okay.” She took a step toward Jenna, and Arnold squeezed out from behind her legs.
Amanda looked down at him, her expression one of slight distaste, as if she was trying to hide it but couldn’t.
Then it was like she realized the face she was making and consciously shifted it to a cool smile.
“My name’s Amanda. I’m Sawyer’s…friend.”
“I know who you are.” The words slipped out before Jenna could lock them in, and she swallowed down her own annoyance with herself.
Amanda’s smile faltered. “Oh. Okay.” She stood back up. “Well, if you could just let Sawyer know I stopped by.”
“I thought she wanted you to leave her alone.” Oh, shit. What was happening? Why couldn’t she control her mouth?
And that’s when Amanda gave a clearly sarcastic chuckle, tipped her head to one side, and said, “Trust me, Sawyer rarely knows what she wants.”
In that moment, a meme Jenna had seen a hundred times flashed through her mind.
It was a picture of a lion, and it said the lion, the witch, and the audacity of this bitch, and it was a hundred percent perfect for this situation.
She almost laughed but managed to keep her lips closed, trapping the words.
This time. She watched in awe as Amanda went from a woman who looked sad and emotional to one who was cool and in control.
The transformation happened in a split second, and it made Jenna realize that the sad and emotional act had been just that: an act.
Amanda turned and headed down the stairs, then gave Jenna a quick wave.
“Have a good night.”
Jenna stood there, watching her walk across the lawn toward her Mercedes parked on the street.
She was very attractive; Jenna couldn’t deny it.
Dressed in clearly expensive clothes, business attire, as if she’d just come from work.
Black slacks. Expensive heels. She left behind a cloud of a sweet-smelling perfume, and Jenna found herself exhaling, not wanting the scent getting into her.
She waited until the Benz’s engine turned over and the car pulled out into the street before she corralled Arnold back inside and shut the door against the brisk fall air.
Back on the couch, she covered herself with her blanket, and Arnold hopped up to curl into a ball near her feet.
Wallace decided to park himself directly on her chest, which made typing on her phone more difficult.
Working around him, she tapped out a text to Sawyer—she didn’t want to bother her with Amanda’s visit but was also worried if she didn’t tell her now, she might forget altogether, which would not be cool, even if it was her preference.
With a sigh, she sent a text.
Hi there. Sorry to bother you. How’s Courtney? FYI, Amanda stopped by. Not sure why she didn’t call first, but she asked me to tell you she was here.
A few minutes went by before Sawyer’s text came back. I blocked her number, that’s why she didn’t call first. Courtney’s good. Doc says nothing to worry about. I’m taking her home soon.
“Oh, thank God,” Jenna muttered out loud, then typed, Fabulous news. Give her a hug for me. She had nothing more she wanted to say about Amanda, so she left it. It wasn’t her business anyway.
And that was the thing, wasn’t it?
She grabbed Wallace’s little face in both hands and looked into his big, green eyes. “It’s not my business, right, buddy? Tell me it’s not my business.”
Wallace blinked at her in silence.
Sawyer had felt the adrenaline crash about an hour ago, and now, as she pulled her car into the driveway and killed the engine, she was finally starting to feel somewhat normal again.
Crazy how you could go from hyperaware, to wanting to curl up and sleep, to back to being a human, all in the course of a few hours.
She trudged up the front steps, ready to veer to the right to her door, but Jenna’s lights were still on. It was a little after ten, and before she could think about it or second-guess the choice, she veered left instead and knocked lightly on the door.
When Jenna opened it, she knew she’d made the right decision because everything in her body settled, relaxed, eased up.
“Hi,” she said.
“Oh, my God. You’re back. Hi.” Jenna didn’t hesitate. She pushed the storm door open, reached out, and tugged Sawyer inside.
“Is this okay?” Sawyer asked, standing in the entryway.
“I don’t want to interrupt anything or…” She shrugged as she took in Jenna—joggers, long-sleeve T-shirt, no bra, which was emphasized by the fact that Sawyer could see the outline of her nipples.
Her hair was pulled back in a clip, and several locks had escaped and dangled around her face.
The white socks on her feet were the final touch and screamed “adorably sexy” at her so loudly in her head, Sawyer was surprised Jenna couldn’t hear it.
“Are you kidding?” Jenna waved at the TV. “As you can see, I’m very absorbed in this show from thirty years ago.” She chuckled, then stepped closer and reached out. Hand on Sawyer’s arm, she looked her in the eye. “How are you? How’s Courtney? Do you need anything? Water? Wine? Whiskey?”
Sawyer smiled. Jenna was always trying to take care of her. “Courtney’s fine. And water would be great.”