Through the lenses of her glasses, the way Sawyer’s clear blue eyes focused on her, zeroing in on Jenna like she was the only person in the world with anything valuable to say.
After a while, she gave up on the book, slipped the bookmark in, and set it aside, her eyelids growing heavy even as the memories of the day kept replaying.
She eventually drifted off, but her dreams were busy ones, filled with laughter, family, deep blue eyes, and apples.
Chapter Nine
Sunday dawned gloomy and crisp, as if it was announcing that fall had arrived in full swing and the people of Northwood should be ready.
Sawyer thought about going for a run, but the gray sky changed her mind, so she opened the app on her phone and went through a half-hour yoga class, just to get her body moving and her muscles stretched. After that, she headed downstairs to start her coffee brewing.
She heard Jenna’s door close, watched out the front window as she drove away in her decade-old Toyota, and part of her was bummed to know she wasn’t next door. There was something warm and satisfying knowing she was tucked safely in the same house as Sawyer—which she didn’t understand but accepted for now.
Around noon, it started to rain and made for the perfect Sunday atmosphere to spend the day on the couch. She clicked on the fireplace, then made herself a bowl of popcorn and watched a movie. By the time that was over, the rain had eased up, and she found her gaze landing on the Lily Chambers book Jenna had sold her, sitting accusingly on the table under the TV. They had a little stare-down, her and the book, across the living room. It lasted a good four minutes before Sawyer sighed loudly, pushed herself to her feet, and crossed to grab it. Back on the couch, under the afghan her grandmother made her, she stared at the cover.
It was happy, with bright colors of turquoise and coral, two women on the front who were obviously bakers or something. Pastry chefs, maybe? She sighed again, opened the book, and began reading.
When the knock on the door came, it startled her enough to makeher flinch in her seat. She had no idea how much time had passed, but she was on page 112, so quite a bit. She set the book, pages down, on the coffee table and tossed the blanket off, regretting that instantly as the chill of the day assaulted her, so she picked it back up and wrapped it around her shoulders. She was running a hand through her hair when she opened the door and stopped in shock.
“Hey, Sawyer,” Amanda said, an uncertain smile on her face.
Sawyer had to swallow twice before she could find her voice. “Amanda. Hi. Um…” She cleared her throat. “How did you…what are you doing here?”
“Well, it took some fancy undercover work, but I managed to find your new address, sincesomebodywouldn’t give it to me.” Amanda said it with a smile, like it was a silly misunderstanding that Sawyer hadn’t shared where she lived now. “Can we talk for a minute?”
No! No, we cannot talk. I don’t want to talk to you. You ruined me. You broke me in ways I didn’t know a person could be broken. I’m still recovering and I’m just now starting to do better. It has taken me so long to get here. So, no, I don’t want to talk to you because I don’t want to go backward. I don’t want to undo all the hard work it took for me to get to this place. Backsliding is not an option for me, can you understand that? This isn’t all about you, you know. I exist here. I’m part of this.
That’s what she should have said, should have shouted, to Amanda.
“Sure” is what she actually said, though she didn’t let Amanda in. Instead, she stepped out onto the porch, tightening her grip on the blanket wrapped around her like a protective cocoon, and forced Amanda to take a couple steps back.
They stood there awkwardly for a moment, Amanda sort of shuffling from one foot to the other, as if she was nervous, Sawyer gazing off into the street or at the trees or down the block. Anywhere but looking right at Amanda. She didn’t want to fall into the depths of her blue eyes the way she used to. She would drown, just like always.
“This is nice,” Amanda said, making a show of looking around, at the house, the porch, the front lawn. “It’s a really nice neighborhood.”
“It is.”
Amanda glanced down at her feet, and Sawyer realized in that moment that shewasnervous. Amanda was never nervous. Ever. She had the confidence of a dozen CEOs, of several star athletes. Sawyerhad never seen her even flinch with any kind of nerves. She never raised her voice. She was always calm and stoic. It was infuriating, especially when they were having an emotional discussion. But Sawyer did her best to match that, to appear unaffected, despite the fact her heart was beating so solidly against her rib cage, she was surprised Amanda couldn’t hear it.
“Okay, um. So, I just wanted to say thank you.” Amanda’s smile was uncertain—again, a strange emotion to appear so clearly on her face.
“For?” Sawyer was confused now. She hadn’t done anything. In fact, she’d maintained as much distance as she could from Amanda over the past eight months. What could she be thanked for?
Before Amanda could continue, Jenna’s car pulled into the driveway, and both Sawyer and Amanda glanced at it.
“Who’s that?” Amanda asked.
“My next-door neighbor.” Sawyer swallowed hard as Jenna shut her car door and headed for the porch, both women still watching her.
Jenna’s look of concern somehow made Sawyer feel the tiniest bit better as she mounted the stairs and reached her own door. She looked at the women as she slid her key into her lock and made eye contact with Sawyer. “Everything okay?” she asked.
Sawyer gave one nod.
Jenna nodded back, shot a glance at Amanda, then went inside and shut the door.
A beat passed and Amanda spoke again. “I’ve been seeing Christine,” she said, then added, “from the office,” as if Sawyer needed additional information.
“I know who Christine is.” It took every ounce of energy Sawyer had not to allow any emotion into her words.
