Chapter Sadie
Sadie
A Knight in Shining Armor
"Okay, ladies." I hitch the diaper bag higher onto my shoulder, trying not to squish Marigold's tiny hand where it rests on my side. She’s strapped to my front, like a baby kangaroo hanging in its mother’s pouch, sound asleep. "Let’s grab our trash and head back to the car."
Lily collects the ice cream-soiled napkins from our table, while Poppy and Magnolia look at me like I’m speaking a foreign language.
"You can’t expect others to clean up your mess… move it." I wave my hand at the girls and attempt a stern face. Instead of being intimidated, they fall into a fit of giggles, and Lily rolls her eyes.
Mallory started a candle company a few years ago—one that specializes in custom scents and branding for businesses.
She called to say a new mercantile is considering placing a large order today, but only if she comes to their store, so I knew I needed to help.
Sebastian is working, and Mom has a doctor's appointment—I’m the only viable option, but I didn’t know what I was signing up for.
What was supposed to be a quiet morning of reading followed by lunch and naps at home, turned into a bit of a shitshow.
Ten minutes after walking into the library, Marigold had a blowout, which resulted in the other girls running amuck while I changed her.
Mrs. Rawlings, the head librarian, attempted to settle them for me, but when Poppy decided she no longer felt the need to wear clothes, we were asked to leave.
Ice cream wasn’t really a reward for them—it was more for me—a sugar cone with caramel pecan to save the day.
I swipe the lone napkin left in the holder and finish wiping the table before grabbing the two remaining bowls and depositing them in the trash. Turning to the three girls, I put my hands on my hips.
"Okay, we need to make it to the van with no issues or it’s straight to bed at Grannie’s.
" I blow out a breath, knowing that wrangling four kids while weaving through the event setup in Mage Square will not be ideal.
Lobster Fest starts this coming weekend, and navigating the square was precarious the first go-round.
That was two hours and three forklifts ago.
The girls stand from their seats, nodding that they understand. "Magnolia and Poppy, you need to hold hands the whole way. Lily will be our line leader, and Marigold and I will be the caboose." This makes them giggle uncontrollably.
"Aunt Sadie said caboose!" Magnolia shouts, shaking her booty around.
I glance around the parlor, only to be met with sympathetic eyes from worn mothers and a few frowns from the Red-Hat ladies. I nod at Lily, and she starts toward the door.
When we make it onto the sidewalk, the girls do as I instructed, and we head toward my sister's van. It’s parked about two blocks down, and we don’t need to cross the street—I’ve got this. Everything will be fine.
Lily leads the way, and my phone dings with an incoming email. I shouldn’t look at it, but when the name in the sender box says Levi Montgomery, my priorities shift. It’s the first email from my boss in days, and I refuse to miss it.
"Poppy, no!" Magnolia shouts. "Aunt Sadie!
" My gaze lands on Magnolia, her eyes wide with urgency, her hand dangling…
empty. I turn my head, scanning the sidewalk for Poppy as my heart lurches into my throat.
At the edge of the sidewalk, her bouncing blonde curls come into view between a truck and a car, and I dart after her.
"Stay put. Do not move a muscle!" I shout at the other two, who stand stock-still on the sidewalk.
Leaping across and slipping between the vehicles, I chase Poppy.
A metallic purple balloon floats in front of her, drifting down the street with the breeze.
I’m within five or six feet of her—out of breath from a lack of consistent exercise routine and the extra twenty-five pounds strapped to my chest—but she picks up her pace.
For a girl with legs only a foot long, she’s shockingly fast.
The balloon drifts further, rising in the air with each sweep of the wind. A motorcycle barrels toward Poppy, and I do what anyone would—I scream. "Poppy!"
Tires screech, and I squeeze my eyes shut tight, like I’m the one bracing for impact. The thrumming of the engine creates a steady cadence in my ears, but there’s no crunch or crash. Snapping out of my hesitation, I open my eyes at the same time a familiar voice rings out.
"I got her, Sadie. She’s all good."
Max.
My heart rate slows slightly, and my feet move.
Max is carrying my niece and the stupid balloon that caused this mess toward the sidewalk.
His muscular body shifts effortlessly with each step.
When I reach them, I look to my other nieces and motion for them to join us—it’s only twenty feet, but it feels like I'm watching them walk a mile.
"Oh my God, thank you." I glare at Poppy, but she curls her sweet little face into Max’s neck, nuzzling the collar of his grey t-shirt. Traitor. "Poppy Ann. You scared me."
She looks up at me, tears glistening as they streak down her face. "I sowy, Aunt Adie." Reaching a hand out, I rub her back lightly before leaning entirely too close to Max to press a kiss to her forehead. His linen scent surrounds me—it’s delightfully infuriating.
"Let’s just get to the car and go home. Can we do that?" My tone is softer, knowing she’s probably just as freaked out as I am. She’s practically a baby still. I should have known better than to take my eyes off her for even a second.
Max nods, then motions with his arm for me to lead the way. Poppy’s still snug against him, clutching his bicep with one hand and the balloon with the other.
Our group walks in silence, making it to the van in a matter of minutes.
I unlock it, and the sliding door opens for the girls to pile in.
Lily hops in first, helping Magnolia get into her seat.
Carefully, so I don’t knock Marigold into anything, I lean in and secure Mag’s five-point harness the way Mal demonstrated.
Lily buckles her own seat belt across her booster, leaving only two.
Max places Poppy into her seat, carefully holding the balloon string between his teeth while he works the buckle closed and tightens it. He hands her the balloon, tucking it inside so it doesn’t blow away. "You'd better be a good girl for your aunt, Pop."
Poppy’s cheeks turn pink, and her eyes sparkle.
I get it—that charming little smirk he’s giving her is deadly.
I’m glad it’s not trained on me, because while I haven’t been looking at him in that way, adrenaline is coursing through me, making it hard to think straight.
Max, with a small child in his arms, does weird things to my hormones—it would to anyone.
Taking a step back from the van, I reach behind my head to undo the carrier like Mal showed me. It should be simple, but these things always look easier than they are. My fingers can’t seem to grab the buckle, despite having done the same thing earlier when I changed her.
"Do you need help?" Max steps around me, standing at my back.
"Yes, please." I release a shaky breath. "I buckled it myself, so I don’t know why I can’t reach it now."
His hands gently move my hair over my shoulder, and his fingertips dance lightly across the back of my neck as he works to unfasten it. Goosebumps pebble on my skin from the contact, but in a matter of seconds the carrier loosens, and nothing but the sticky summer breeze replaces his hands.
I work quickly, softly setting Marigold in her car seat and buckling it tight. She sleeps through the entire transfer, small puffs of air blowing from her pouty lips. There’s a second where her mouth moves in a sucking motion, so I quickly tuck her pacifier in and close the door quietly.
When I turn to round the car, Max is still waiting on the sidewalk.
"Thank you for saving me today."
"You mean Poppy?" He smirks.
I roll my lips in. "No, I mean me. My sister would have killed me if something had happened to her, and I would’ve deserved it for not paying close enough attention."
Max steps closer, his feet inches from mine. "Don’t mention it." His jaw tightens slightly. "You can’t be perfect all the time."
I roll my eyes. "I can try to be."
He shrugs. "Sure, I guess. But that’s going to make for a pretty big letdown one day."
"I’ll survive." I turn, taking one step toward the front of the vehicle when Max grabs my arm.
Whipping my head back, I realize just how close we are, and my breath stutters. "What—"
"Just figured if you’re aiming for perfection, I shouldn’t let you walk around with caramel on your face." He pulls his thumb between his lips, wetting the pad, then quickly runs it along the corner of my mouth.
My body short-circuits, tingles race in every direction, and breathing becomes difficult. Max smirks, a dimple popping in his cheek unfairly.
"See you around, Sade."
This time he walks away, and I stand next to my sister's van dumbstruck as he goes. Texting him for help was a bad idea—just as bad as continuing to have these little interactions. Max O’Reilly is a distraction… one I’m starting to look forward to a little more than I should.
"Any plans today?" Mom asks, sliding into the rocking chair next to me.
I slip my bookmark into my latest read and look over at her.
I’ve stayed close to home since the incident with Poppy, not sure what else to do with my time and not wanting to run into a specific someone.
I wouldn’t say I’m avoiding him altogether, but I just can’t stop replaying our latest encounter.
There was something a little different about Max—a quieter confidence. Each time I’ve talked to him, there’s been an air of flirting—that’s his M.O. But the last time, he seemed to take up more space.
Maybe it was just the situation, but between that and the book that has continued to follow me around, I can’t seem to shake the feeling that I’m safest not straying too far outside my comfort zone.
"Nope. Just reading, and thinking I'll do some research for work later." Opening my book, I scan the page, attempting to find my spot.
Mom makes a clicking sound with her tongue. It’s not a tsk really, but there’s a shame-filled undertone to the noise. "You’re not supposed to be working."
"And?" I bite the inside of my cheek.
"And have you considered attempting what Levi suggested?" Her face puckers as if the words tasted sour coming out.
I grab my water, taking a long drink before responding.
"How would you suggest I do that? The puzzles?
Some late-night partying with people I barely know?
" My tone is snarky—not all that respectful. But like everyone else, my mom has latched onto the idea that there’s something wrong with me, something broken.
"Sadie, come on." She’s obviously perturbed by my lack of effort. "Can’t you just give something a try? Beth generously gave you that… maybe it would be a good distraction."
"I’ve solved two clues." The words are out before I can stuff them back in. I’ve been avoiding talking about it because there’s so much I can’t explain—it follows me, weird signs appear in unexpected places, like my coffee, and the ink changes color when I get an answer correct.
Mom’s face illuminates, a sprinkle of hope evident. "What were the answers?"
I set my book down on the table, spinning so my body faces hers. "Altruistic and helpful."
"That’s interesting."
I raise an eyebrow and stare at her. "Is it?"
"I think so. Traits maybe? About you, probably." Her assessment isn’t all that convincing as the clues aren’t about me. Beth said they would lead me to something—if anything, they’re things I need to become.
"Doubtful." I push myself to stand, grabbing my water bottle and book. "I’ll be in my room."
"Some things never change," Mom grumbles, and I roll my eyes.
She’s not wrong—I’ve always enjoyed the solace of my quiet spaces. This time though, I simply need to escape a conversation that’s bound for nowhere. I told myself that I’d take control of the book, solve the clues on my own terms. And for the most part, I have. With Max’s unknowing assistance.
I step slowly through the house, depositing my glass in the kitchen sink.
Out of the corner of my eye, I can see the leftover mess from when Mom babysat the girls earlier.
Paper plates with sandwich crusts lingering, strawberries half eaten, and that damn balloon that caused all my problems the other day.
Grabbing the trash from the counter, I begin cleaning up.
It’s a small gesture—look at me, being helpful already.
With the majority of the garbage in hand, I press my foot to the pedal at the bottom of the wastebasket and toss the pile inside.
Spinning to collect the rest, I come face to face with Poppy’s balloon.
The metallic purple has cracked at the seams, and the helium has started to lose its strength. But the most notable thing is that where minutes ago it had a giant number 2 in the middle with the words too cool to be one beneath it, it now says: always better than one under the number.
For the love of all that’s holy!
Snatching a pair of scissors out of the junk drawer, I slice into the Mylar, and the balloon deflates to a shriveled-up sack. Collecting the remains, I toss them in the trash and head straight to my bedroom.
Walking in, the only thing waiting for me is the puzzle book opened to the third page.