My finger taps the button to accept his call and I lift my phone to my ear. “Hi, Tim.”
“Hey, Tor.”
I hate that name. I’ve told him a million times not to call me Tor.
“We’re about to eat dinner, so I don’t have long. What’s up?” My voice sounds flat to my ears, but hopefully not to Cooper.
“My parents want Cooper to be at the wedding. Mom said they would fly out with him, take him to the wedding, then fly him back.”
I have to bite back my initial response.His parents want him at the wedding. Not him.What an asshole.
Tim’s parents have been good to Cooper, there’s no argument there. Even though their son dropped everything and ran, the second they somehow found out Tim had fathered a child, they showed up and haven’t stopped showing up whenever I’ve needed something. We had an unspoken agreement to just not mention Tim in those early days, and they never questioned my having full custody, but his mom was the one to ask me to let Tim see his child.
“Why isn’t your mom calling me about this?” I ask, trying to keep my voice quiet. But of course, Cooper hears me, and his head lifts up at mention of his nana.
“She told me to.”
Of course, she did. Racquel Watson is no fool. She knows her son will never step up and be the dad Cooper deserves, but that doesn’t stop her from trying to push him a little.
“I’ll think about it,” comes my curt reply.
“I wanna go see Nana,” Cooper says, and just my luck, Tim hears him.
“See? Cooper wants to come.”
I frown, not at Cooper, but at my idiot ex. “I willconsiderit, talk it over with Cooper, and then talk it over with your mother.”
“Fine. Whatever.”
God, was he always such an ass? Yeah, he was. “We’ve gotta go, Tim.”
“’Kay. Bye.” He hangs up without even asking to say hi to his son. It breaks my heart on Cooper’s behalf, but my kid is looking at me with such hope in his eyes, I can’t help but reach out to him and pull him in for a quick hug.
“Let’s eat, and we can talk about you going with Nana and Pops to your dad’s wedding.”
Between dinner and dishes, Cooper convinces me he really wants to spend the weekend with his grandparents. He doesn’t mention the wedding, and it’s abundantly clear to me that his father is not the reason he wants to go.
We called Racquel and finalized the plans, all without any mention of the deadbeat. I must admit, while I’m sad for Cooper that his father is so useless, I am grateful to have the connection to his parents. With mine living here on the island, when we were in Vancouver, Racquel would often help with childcare if I was on a deadline.
And the prospect of a kid-free weekend to catch up on this overdue book is a good one.
When I finally make it into bed, my thoughts are still a jumbled up, tangled mess. After I thump my pillow for the fourth time, flipping back and forth from my side to my back, just trying to make my body relax into sleep, I give up and yield to my curiosity. Opening my phone in the dark room, a quick search lands me on the Dogwood Cove Fire Department website. There, on the main page, is a photo of some of the crew, and of course — because that’s how my day has gone — Sawyer is front and center, that big, wide smile plastered all over his stupidly handsome face.
“Not fair. No single person should wield that much power — being good-looking, good in bed, and a good person.”
Because after what I saw today, the handshake and the way he handled Cooper, there’s little doubt Sawyer is a good guy. I’m sure he’s also a player, a flirt, and a ladies’ man, but today he was just a kindhearted man who is now my son’s new hero.
Awesome.
There’s little chance of stopping myself now that I’m staring at his face, so even with my guilt and embarrassment in full swing, I scroll through the website, stopping anywhere there’s photos. When I come up with just one or two more photos of Sawyer in full gear, I switch my search.
BC Firefighters Calendar.
And right there, on the bio page for Mr. July, is the information that could have saved me a ton of embarrassment earlier today.
“Sawyer Donnelly, an eleven-year veteran of the Dogwood Cove Fire Department, is honoured to return as your Mr. July for a second year.”
If only I hadn’t been so determined to keep Sawyer where I thought he belonged, in my memory bank only, I might have known I was moving to the very town he lived in. If I had let myself look him up sooner, I could have been prepared instead of being caught unaware, like I was today.
