Chapter Seventeen
The snow only let up for about a week before it started to really fall, and it was officially winter in Sawyer’s eyes. By the second week in December, the ground was covered, and the temperatures were cold, but she didn’t care because she had Jenna.
She had Jenna.
What an unexpected and surprising thing to know.
She sat at her desk with a big, stupid grin on her face. She knew it was a big, stupid grin because she could feel it. Also because Colton has asked her earlier why she had such a big, stupid grin on her face. She’d said nothing but had continued to grin. Big and stupid-like.
Colton had been in a meeting with one of the higher-ups, and now he walked toward her and their cubicle. When their gazes met, he rolled his eyes in an exaggerated manner and shook his head. “My God, woman, enough with that face.” He flopped down into his chair.
“What’s wrong with my face?”
He made an expression that included a giant dorky smile while he blinked his eyes rapidly.
She burst out laughing. “You look like a cartoon. All you need are little cartoon hearts floating over your head.”
“No, that’s all you need,” he said, pointing at her. Then he fluttered his hand over his head, presumably mimicking floating cartoon hearts.
“You’re just jealous,” she said, sticking her tongue out.
He softened and gave her a genuine smile. “I’m just teasing you. Honestly, it’s nice to see you like this and know that it’s not fleeting.”
She frowned. “What do you mean?”
One shoulder lifted in a half shrug. “I mean with the last one, your happiness was always temporary. I knew that if you were giddy like this, it was likely gonna go away soon.” He paused and held her gaze for a moment before he added, “She never let you stay that way.”
He wasn’t wrong. In fact, he was exactly on the nose.
It was as if Amanda couldn’t allow her to be happy for too long.
Sawyer wasn’t ever sure if it was an ego thing or a control thing or what, but whenever things were going well, and Sawyer was happy, Amanda would do or say something to bring it crashing down.
More often than not, it would be one simple line, something subtle but cutting.
If Sawyer had a new outfit, Amanda would compliment it and then pick something on it apart. There was always a “but” with her.
I do love that sweater, I’m just not sure about the color.
Your hair looks great…I just didn’t know you were going to cut so much off the length.
Dinner is delicious, yes. Maybe a little less pepper next time.
That kind of thing became normal to Sawyer.
Eventually, she accepted the criticism as part of the compliment.
When her mother had called her on it, she’d shrugged, smiled, and waved a dismissive hand as she said, “Oh, that’s just the way Amanda is.
She doesn’t mean anything by it.” And her mother would tip her head with a sad smile and say nothing more, and she knew now that her mom had been walking a fine line between expressing her concerns about her daughter’s partner and risking losing her by overstepping.
In hindsight, Sawyer felt bad about that.
“So, when do I get to meet this person who’s responsible for your goofy facial expressions?” Colton’s question pulled her back to the present.
“Soon. I promise.”
He softened. “I look forward to it. Truly. I tease, but it’s really nice to see you like this.” He reached over and squeezed her upper arm, then spun his chair back to face his own desk.
Her phone pinged a text indication, and when she looked at it, her heart did a happy little skip. Jenna.
How’s your day?
Sawyer typed back, Better now…
Such a sweet talker. Jenna followed that up with an eye roll emoji, but then a heart eyes one.
The romance novels must be rubbing off. She laughed softly as she added a wide-eyed emoji.
My dastardly plan is working! Bwahahaha!
Sawyer laughed some more, then sent more wide-eyed emoji. Then she typed, All set for tonight? BookLove was hosting an author signing that evening.
Almost. Books just arrived. Another eye roll, presumably because the books should have arrived two days ago. Should be a good turnout, though.
She typed, You sure you don’t need me to feed the boys? I’m happy to do it.
Jenna sent a heart emoji and followed it with, I appreciate that more than you know, but I’ll be ready for a quick break. And I want to give them all some love.
It was something she found unexpectedly attractive about Jenna: her love for her animals.
She was away from them during the day, like any other person with a full-time job out of the house, but it weighed on her, and more often than not, she’d run home at lunch or in the middle of the afternoon just to give them a hug and kiss.
It really was an adorable quality of hers.
Okay. If anything changes, shoot me a text. She didn’t have a key, but she knew where Jenna kept the extra hidden in the garage, so she could get in if needed.
Will do. The gray dots bounced for a bit, like Jenna had more to say. Then they stopped. Sawyer held the phone and waited. No more came, and she was about to set the phone down when a text finally popped up.
I miss you today.
Everything within Sawyer suddenly increased in temperature, as if her circulatory system had been flushed with warm water. The grin was permanent now, she could feel it as she typed. I miss you too. See you later tonight. She added a heart emoji for good measure. And because it felt right.
Her last meeting of the day ran long, so she got out later than usual, and when she finally arrived home, the driveway, front sidewalk, and steps to the porch had all been shoveled free of snow.
Jenna’s Uncle David, the landlord, must’ve been by earlier.
No cars in the driveway, and Sawyer didn’t pull into the garage because she wanted to go see her mom tonight.
The sky had cleared, and though the sun had already set, it had turned into a lovely, not terribly cold early winter evening.
Her sigh left on a breath of vapor as she climbed the porch steps.
She’d hoped to catch Jenna at home feeding the boys, but she must’ve missed her, thanks to her late meeting.
In her entryway, she’d barely set her bag down, coat still on, when there was a knock on her door.
Heart skipping beats in the hopes it was Jenna, she yanked it open.
And blinked.
“Amanda. What are you doing here?”
“Nice greeting.” Amanda probably meant the words to be snarky, but they came out more sad, almost pathetic, and she grimaced.
She looked as beautiful as always, with her auburn hair in some kind of complicated twist at the back of her head, still dressed in a suit and dress boots, which indicated she must’ve come right from her office.
A glance behind her revealed her car parked on the street, and Sawyer found it both amusing and irritating that she hadn’t noticed it. Again.
“No, seriously. What are you doing here?” And to her surprise, Amanda’s eyes welled up.
“I, um…” Amanda glanced down at her feet, at her very expensive boots. When she raised her gaze again, she sighed, as if the words were being forced out of her. “I miss you.”
“You miss me?”
Amanda nodded.
“Don’t you mean you miss Cindy? Or what about Christine? You must miss her.”
“No.” Amanda shook her head and looked off to her right. There was a beat of silence. Very weird, very uncomfortable silence.
“I’m not sure what you want me to say here, Amanda.” And she wasn’t. This was, admittedly, a state she’d never seen Amanda in—uncertain, emotional, pleading. She was normally none of those things. Ever. So, seeing her standing on her porch this way was a little unnerving.
“Can I come in at least?” Amanda used the little half grin that had always worked on Sawyer, had always gotten Sawyer to bend. Shockingly, it had zero effect on her now.
“I’m actually on my way out,” Sawyer said, using an old trick she’d read about once that included putting on your coat before answering the door.
If it was somebody you were happy to see, say you were just getting home and invite them in.
If it was somebody you didn’t want to see, tell them you were on your way out.
It didn’t matter that Amanda had been sitting in her car and surely saw that Sawyer had just come home.
She pulled on the lapel of her wool coat, indicating to Amanda that she was leaving.
She grabbed her purse, stepped out onto the porch, forcing Amanda to take a couple steps back, and locked the door behind her, committing to the role.
“Oh.” It was all Amanda said for a moment as they stood on the porch looking at each other.
“Okay. I just…” She sighed and gazed over Sawyer’s shoulder for a moment, and Sawyer started to realize that Amanda was out of her element.
It was odd, so strange to watch, and she was reminded of a video she’d seen online recently of dairy cows that had been cooped up in tiny pens their entire lives now released into fields of grass.
Yes, they’d quickly ended up frolicking and jumping and celebrating their freedom, but those first few moments, they were simply…
confused. Like Amanda seemed now. “So, Christine left me.”
And there it was.
Her choice of words was intentional. Sawyer recognized that immediately and was then surprised by that fact. Amanda didn’t say “I left Christine” or “Things between Christine and me are over.” She specifically said “Christine left me,” clearly going for the sympathy vote.
And Sawyer saw it. Instantly.
Now, that was progress.
“I’m sorry to hear that.” A simple, kind phrase.
“No, I’m sorry,” Amanda said, and reached out to lay a hand on Sawyer’s arm. “I’m sorry for everything. I was such a fool.”