28. Sawyer
“You look like death.”Ah, yes. My favorite way to be greeted in the morning.
“And you look ravishing as ever, Mel,” I said with a stale expression as the screen door to The Hideout slammed shut behind me, making the bell above rattle crazier than ever.
“Thanks, it’s my new haircut, isn’t it?” She pursed her lips and feathered her fingers through her bangs.
Fixated on pure isolation, I book it around the bar counter and head straight down to my office. I had no interest in playing my “customer service” cards today. Mel marched vigorously behind me.
“Excuse me. You’re going to have to talk to me at some point. It’s been a month.”
Denial.
I stopped in my tracks, and Mel crashed right into my back. I spun on my heels to face her. Her deep brown eyes stared back at me inquisitively. Admittedly, there wasn’t a single thing about me that Mel didn’t know. And at no fault but my own, I made my emotions accessible to her. She knows how I’m feeling before I do most of the time.
I parted my lips and she perked up, excited to finally get me to talk, but I promptly drew my mouth in a thin line.
I turned back around and sauntered away from her. It felt like ages before I reached my office. My feet dragged beneath me. The reminder that I have been avoiding any talk about Lucy since she left my place a month ago was slicing right through me.
Mel showed up at my house on the days I refused to come in to work on payroll or check on inventory. It was all work that she was trained and certified to take care of, but she’s convinced I’d be “so annoyed” that I’d end up doing it myself. Eventually, she started bringing paperwork for me to sign once she realized I wouldn’t leave the confines of my couch and wine cellar. I’m stubborn when I need to be and was set on leaving it for her to do it. But doing work of a smaller magnitude was our compromise. Mel was nothing if not persistent.
I told her I was fine when we both knew I was lying. I was taking some well-deserved time off. I deserved to do that, right? I had been wracking my brain, to the point where I wanted to hit my head against a wall, wondering how I felt so strongly over a girl I barely even knew. I suppose that made me more captivated and intrigued than ever. That happens almost never.
Mel was right when she called me a lovesick puppy, I was one when it came to Lucy. I saw this place in a new kind of way thanks to her. I felt calm and exhilarated all at once when I was around her. Within a matter of weeks, I was wrapped around her finger.
It was the first time in over a week that I made it into the restaurant. I shut the door behind me and I left Mel standing in the hallway. I couldn’t tell if she didn’t want to pry for the time being or if she was conjuring up new ways to get me to talk. All I know is she didn’t try to barge in and it was nice to have a barrier between me and my newly acquired shadow in the shape of my five-foot-one best friend.
I stared into my office that now felt like it was closing in on me.
I could still see Lucy spinning in the chair and our almost-kiss.
It felt like an eternity ago.
I started to spiral and played the game of “what ifs” in every aspect.
If I had stuck with my grandfather’s plan, I’d be in New Haven and I’d be mayor… Hours away from Rider. I would have never called it home. Rider was always supposed to be a summer house. Never the place that held my heart in its hands.
What if I never let her walk out my front door that day? I’d be there to work through whatever was going on alongside her. She wouldn’t have to feel like she’s going through this alone. I hoped that she wasn’t going through it alone.
I don’t know what I should have done, but all I know is Lucy held my heart in her hands. But she walked away. I hate that I let her walk away.
Anger.
As I pulled myself away from the office door, it slowly creaked open behind me. “Hey… please don’t bite my head off,” Mel squeaked out as she slid in through the door.
I made it to my desk—I knew that if I could just sit down in my office, I could manipulate myself into being productive. Unless it’s work-related, I don’t have time for Mel’s bullshit. But like a Great White shark, she cuts across the floor softly and silently before attacking.
“Get up,” she demands. I am her wounded prey, and she can’t leave well enough alone.
I’m here, aren’t I? Isn’t that what she wanted?
“I’m sorry?”
“No apologies needed. But this isn’t the Sawyer I know, and that is something you should be sorry about.”
That was a good two minutes and thirty-seven seconds without her meddling.
But I remember that I’ve made it a habit to follow her lead, I respect her too much. So as bad as I don’t want to play into her games, I do as I’m told. Mel is a petite girl, but when she means business, she means business and I don’t question her. Her eye twitched slightly as she got ready to speak, but I cut her off before she could say anything.
“You don’t get it,” I huffed out, crossing my arms across my chest. The lack of showers diffused off of me, so I placed my arms back down, tight against my side.
“I don’t get it. Huh, okay. Do you hear yourself? Of course, I do! And I know that you know that. You picked up all the pieces when Jamie and I broke up last spring. She ghosted me after we signed a lease together, then went downtown to party. You were there when she pretended like I didn’t exist. Just because you are in a hetero-normative relationship, it doesn’t mean it’s any harder for you. Relationships are complicated no matter what. I know how girls are, I sort of am one, so I know there has to be some reason why you haven’t heard from her.”
“From my point of view, it looks like you were getting pretty cozy with Gracie that night. That’s her best friend, she must’ve said something to you.”
“We met that same night, then she went back to Lucy’s cottage. I know nothing.” She threw her hands up as if she was being interrogated.
Silence passed between us.
“You know something, don’t you!” I slammed my hands onto the desk, definitely interrogating her now.
Mel tried to hold a stiff face, but her lips curled at the corners. “I might have gotten Gracie’s number before she left your house, but that’s it! And that has nothing to do with you. I promise she’s tight-lipped. Like you said, best friends and all.”
I softened my stance, “Find something out for me?” My voice cracked. I was claiming defeat, I was admittedly desperate at this point. “Maybe if you sneak in my name, it will spark something. I will do anything. I just need her to talk to me, I need… something. I need her.”
Bargaining.
She stood and walked over to me. “What exactly happened between you two?”
I looked to the ground, tears welled in my eyes. She wrapped her arms around my waist and fell into my chest.
“Forget I said anything. Talk when you’re ready. I’ll try, bud.”
I tried today, I did, but I’m not ready to be in a setting in which I had to appease people. Or was expected to plaster on my customer service smile.
I grabbed the keys to my bike from my pocket and cut out early. I haven’t been able to touch my truck since that night I picked her up at the cottage.
I don’t want to taint the memories.
I zipped through the main road, but the drive that I am so familiar with felt daunting. I pulled the throttle back to its full potential, the bike vibrated as my speed increased and the engine drowned out all else. I want nothing more than to get home.
I skirted into the driveway and a cloud of dust hit the side of my truck. I aggressively struck the kickstand out and marched inside.
Billy met me at the door with loud barks and body wiggles. I kicked off my boots and gave him a single pat on the head. I hated that I’d been less than attentive to him as of late. But in true Billy fashion, he was always there to keep me company and tried his damndest to keep my spirits high.
I walked past him and straight into the kitchen.
I ripped the freezer door open and yanked out a chilled bottle of bourbon. I flicked the cap off and drank straight from the bottle. I hadn’t done that since college.
I pulled out my phone, contemplating if I should text her. However, I had yet to get a response back from previous messages I’d sent. In the beginning, I’d send a quick good morning text or tell her I was thinking of her. I had sworn I saw text bubbles pop up one day, but it must’ve been my imagination. I slipped my phone back in my pocket and strolled around while the bottle hung from my hand.
Depression.
There was an absence around the lake since she left. I threw a couple more shots back at the thought. The sun didn’t shine as bright, the birds didn’t sing as loud. She brought life and love to Rider. To Hummingbird Lake.
The sunroom remained in its same state. The imprint of her body was left sketched into the sheets. I dreaded the day that it all faded. The blankets and pillows were scattered around, everything was left a mess. A perfect, beautiful mess with a smell of gardenia and citrus.
Billy still scratched at the door to go in occasionally.
I moved her flowers inside, into a vase, but when I hadn’t heard from her after a week, I figured they were staying put in my kitchen. They were wilted and dried out, barely any petals were attached to the buds, and the water had a filmy layer on top—but even then, I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of them.
All that was left was distraction. I just wanted to be distracted from it all. I shut the curtains and kept the lights turned off in the main part of the house. I threw myself into the recliner and turned on the TV.
News channel, news channel, daytime talk show, another news channel. Another swig of alcohol as I clicked through them all.
“…Banks is here to make a public service announcement in just a few short minutes,” the newscaster said into the camera.
What the actual fuck.
“Hello, New Haven!” My grandfather stood behind the podium in his cold, gray suit that was perfectly pressed and steamed. His eyebrows arched in a way that even when his face fell flat, he still looked as if he were scowling at you.
The audience cheered and whistled as he took his place on stage. There was no escaping him, he was on every local news station. It was exhausting. Normally, I’d turn the volume down until he left the screen, but I felt compelled to have the TV on its max volume setting. It was like adding salt to an open wound.
“You’re all looking beautiful today!” he said, waving to his admirers. What a smug son of a bitch. “I will make this quick, though please note this was not an easy decision to make.” He took a pause, only to add a dramatic flare and nothing else. He’s the type to go on and on, talking to anyone who would listen, as long as the cameras were on him.
“I will be retiring,” he declared. I practically flung out of my seat. “And my grandson, Sawyer Banks,” he looked straight at the camera as if he was looking right at me, “will be campaigning to be your next mayor. I endorse him, and I encourage you all to keep the Banks legacy alive.”
The out-of-view crowd fell silent right alongside me. I dropped my now empty bottle to the ground, glass shattered everywhere making Billy whimper. He wove himself between my legs as if he knew something was wrong. And something was very, very wrong.
“Mr. Mayor, Mr. Mayor… Lewis Banks…” the reporters behind the cameras chirped out, but I cut the TV mute. I couldn’t take it anymore. There was a ringing in my ear. I unplugged the TV from the wall and rushed to the kitchen once more. I cracked the cap of a bottle of vodka.
I was taught never to mix my liquor, but here I live another day where I have to share the same blood and name with a man I never want to be. It’s justified.