The man—his father, he’d reminded himself—darted a look over his shoulder and sandwiched the letter between his palms. “Yep?”
“Did you pick up the groceries?”
At once he crumpled the letter in his hands, along with the picture, the envelope, all of it. “Yeah, they’re in the trunk,” he mumbled.
Sawyer held very still, eyes set on the man’s fist as he marched over to the curb, lifted the lid of a large trashcan, and dropped the crinkled wad right inside.
Not the best day of his life, that was sure. A familiar ache sank into Sawyer’s chest at the recollection even still, but it was nothing compared to the pain he’d felt back then.
All from a rejection so dark he hadn’t fully recovered. One that left him asking why he’d ever tried. Had he left the situation alone, not reached out to contact the man like he had, Sawyer could have told himself that perhaps his father really did care. That he was out there somewhere hoping to meet him one day.
But it was too late for that.
Driving into the city always did spark up the unpleasant memory, but Sawyer didn’t let himself think on it for long. He pulled his mind back to the present as he approached the house in Lake Sherwood.
After a ridiculous amount of convincing, his stubborn mom had agreed to let him help her rebuild the home on the property of her dreams.
Mom had bought the place all on her own, a lakeside house, no less. It just needed more improvement than she’d anticipated. He’d added a few perks for himself as well. A dock leading to the lake. A garage that held his speed boat and water toys, not to mention his third car—the Porsche. He’d drive that back to LA and keepitat the storage garage by the airport this time around.
Tall trees lined the property, giving the home an added level of privacy. Sawyer turned his music down as he pulled into the long, narrow drive, eyeing the massive wrap-around porch for any signs of Mom. A smile pulled at his lips as he saw her hovered over a hanging plant, a watering can in hand. She paused to wave at him.
Sawyer waved back and set his eyes on the stairs, waiting for Mario to enter the scene with his flopping tongue and flapping ears. A sliver of fear struck him in the pause. It wasn’t like the beagle to miss out on his homecoming. Perhaps the old dog was inside sleeping.
He parked the car, climbed out, and popped the small trunk to grab his bag. “Where’s Mario?” he hollered.
His mom reached into the potted flowers, pulling a few dead leaves out of the bunch and letting them drift to the ground. “He’s out here. Just curled up by the rocking chair. Give him a holler. He can’t hear so well anymore.”
A sigh of relief pushed through Sawyer as he hiked the bag over one shoulder. “Mario, boy.” He whistled. “Come here, boy. I’m home.”
At last, the little guy appeared at the top of the stairwell, tail wagging as he gave out a lone bark. He lumbered down a few steps, meeting Sawyer halfway before hefting back up to keep even with him.
“Hi there, my boy.” Sawyer dropped his bag at the top of the stairs and reached out to rub both sides of his soft, furry neck beneath his collar. The dog’s velvety ears skittered over the back of his hands as he moved. “That’s my good boy.” He kissed the little guy on the head, then picked him up and carried him like a football into the house as Mom opened the screen door.
“I’m chopped liver compared to Mario, huh, Mr. New York’s Most Eligible Bachelor?”
Sawyer chuckled as he flung his bag to the couch. “Never, Ma.” He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her in for a hug. “I’m just not used to seeing this guy so mellow.” He wasn’t sure why his emotions were so close to the surface. The dog wasn’t theonlyone aging. Just how much longer could Sawyer stay away?
Heaven knew he’d made enough arrangements in the LA area to match his success on the east coast. But the most crucial part of his plan was still missing.
The savory aroma of Mom’s cooking became evident in his next breath. “Smells good,” he said.
Mom grinned. “Made some creamy potato soup, fresh dinner rolls, and some fudge brownies for dessert.”
“Sounds great.” Sawyer followed his mom through the dining area and into the kitchen. They caught up on a few things while Sawyer helped Mom set the table in the sunroom overlooking the water. The lake was serene today, a sheet of glass reflecting the nearby trees and all their beauty.
“So, do you have plans to visit any of your old friends?” Mom asked as she dipped a roll into her soup. Sawyer knew who she had in mind. He’d been asking himself that very question for the last six months.
“I’m not sure,” he said.
Mom looked down at her bowl and shrugged. “May as well. You’re here.”
Sawyer hadn’t realized it earlier, but she looked more youthful. She was young for a parent of someone his age. And she’d been told she’d pass as his sister over his mother any day.
“You’re supposed to look older each year,” he said, “not younger. You doing something different?”
She primped her hair a bit. “Oh, I had them put more golden tones in my hair, like I did when I was younger. Of course, I’m doing Botox. Going to the gym more often now that I’m not working so many hours.”
Sawyer had always wondered when or if his mom would ever start dating again. If he didn’t know better, he’d guess maybe she was. “Huh,” he finally said, determined to revisit the topic later. “That’s one of the perks of working for yourself. I’m proud of what you’ve built up over the years with your business, Ma.”
