Authors: Mindy Hayes
He chuckles. “No you don’t. You love me.”
“You hope I do.” I grab two gallons of milk and turn to place them in my cart.
“I know you do.” He brushes a kiss against my cheek and takes the milk from my hands to place them in his cart that’s now filled with at least six boxes of cereal. I give him a knowing stare. “It was buy one get one free,” he defends himself. “I figured you might want more cereal to go with your milk.” Grayson smirks, and one of his curls falls across his forehead.
I shake my head and brush the curl back. “You’re hopeless.”
“Yeah. Hopelessly—”
My metal cart hits another cart as I round the aisle.
“Oh, sorry.” I’m still smiling from my memory, but when I look up to see the person I hit, my chest tightens.
“Sorry, Jack.” Dean returns my smile until mine falls and then his follows suit. “Er… Sawyer. I wasn’t paying attention.” When he says Sawyer he sounds like he’s trying to speak a different language. It doesn’t sound right.
I nod and steer my cart in the other direction, avoiding all eye contact. I hate his eyes. I hate their kindness and their warmth. I hate their intensity and mystery. I thought the mystery faded, but it’s still there—dominating—because when I look at him now I have no idea where his head is.
I used to love his eyes. The way they changed from green to blue depending on his mood. The way they looked at me like I was something to cherish. But when I look at his eyes now I see my past, and I see what I wanted my present and future to be. I see a person who died as I watched his motorcycle speed away. It’s too hard to look him in the eyes now. All it does is remind me of what I lost. What we lost.
“Just doing some grocery shopping for Mrs. H, huh?” Dean’s voice is behind me.
Of course he would need to go down the same aisle as me. “Small talk, really?” I say over my shoulder.
“Whatever gets you talking.”
I snort and grab some bagels off the shelf, doing my best to pretend like he’s not there.
“Bagels are on sale. Smart move. I’ll get some, too.” I hear him toss a package into his cart.
“How convenient that you needed to go down that same exact aisle as me.”
“It is convenient, isn’t it? Hmm.”
I chuckle, but bite down on it. I don’t want him to know he can still make me laugh.
I make my way up the next aisle. The wheels of his cart squeak behind me, but I don’t want to look as I put more items in my cart.
“Oooh… I’ve always loved Cheez-Its. Good choice.”
“Are you going to follow me through the entire store?”
“It’s not my fault you’re going down every aisle I need to go down.”
We both know what he’s doing, but I decide to stop reacting. For the next twenty minutes he shadows me through the store, commenting on everything I put in my cart. I do my best to ignore him. He stays a good distance away, but close enough that he doesn’t have to yell everything he wants to say.
“How is Mrs. H doing, by the way?”
I sigh and bite back a smile; thankful he can’t see my face. “My mom is doing fine. I’m surprised you need to ask since you’ve been living back here for a few years. Shouldn’t you know?”
He doesn’t miss a beat. “She tends to walk in the other direction or ignore me completely whenever she sees me, like she never saw me in the first place.”
I can’t stifle the laugh this time.
“You would think that’s funny.”
“It sounds like my mom, is all.”
He chuckles. “She hasn’t changed. She’ll probably never like me, but I’ve accepted that.”
“Probably smart of you.”
“Blaine doesn’t hate me, too, does he?”
“You really want the answer to that question?”
“Probably not,” he says quietly. “He’s probably joined the rest of your family.”
I want to tell him that no one hates him. Hate is such a strong word. They just really, really, really don’t like him. Though I doubt that will come as any consolation.
He doesn’t give me the chance to respond before he asks, “Is he still living in Seattle?”
“Yeah,” I say, placing some cans of soup in my cart.
“Seattle must be a really awesome city for a person to move there and never want to come back to even visit.”
I grit my teeth stubbornly to keep from replying. It’s not so much that Seattle is this grand place as it, simply put, is not Willowhaven. People aren’t in your business. It’s so far from here that it makes it easier to leave behind the things you want. It makes having a fresh start attainable.
When I don’t answer him, Dean takes a hint. He doesn’t leave me alone, but we shop in silence.
After I’ve loaded my items on the conveyer belt at the cash register, I turn to look at the candy section, perusing a suitable choice. I feel his eyes on me, but I try not to let it affect me. Valerie is scanning my last item when I hand her a Twix.
“No Reese’s Pieces?” he asks quietly, picking up a bag and putting it with his stuff on the conveyer belt.
I hand Valerie some cash and say to him, “I haven’t been able to eat Reese’s Pieces without getting sick to my stomach in six years.”
When I look over at him, he stands motionless with eyes so dejected I want to wipe them clear. I know I have the power to, but I can’t. The guilt sets in, but not enough to take it back. I turn and walk away.
I should put on an indifferent face and make him think he has no effect on me. I should pretend like what he did to me didn’t completely break my heart, but I’ve never been good at keeping my feelings inside. My emotions might as well be tattooed on my arms since my sleeves wear them every day.
As I pass through the automatic doors at the front of the store, I make the mistake of looking over my shoulder, back at him. He’s standing at the cash register. I’m pretty sure Valerie is asking him for his money, but he doesn’t respond to her. Our eyes lock as he stares. My heart is heavy. My stomach is unsettled. His eyes look so sad and lost. I blink and keep walking before I give in.
I
T
’
S
BEEN
WEEKS
since I saw Sawyer at the grocery store. I’ve decided to keep my distance. When I try to talk to her, it makes it worse. I don’t want to make it worse. I want to make it right. Every effort I make gives me less and less hope she will ever forgive me.
So, I’ve decided focusing on Lily is the only way I can get on with my life. Three and a half years ago, she burrowed herself into my life. I wasn’t sure how I felt about it in the beginning, but as years have passed, and our friendship has developed into more, I’ve realized she’s around to stay. There’s no shaking her, not that I really want to, but I haven’t scared her away yet. After everything I’ve shared with her—things I never shared with Sawyer—she keeps coming back for more. I owe it to her to try and make this work. She gave me a chance. I want to give her one in return.
I didn’t reveal every gory detail to Lily, but she got the gist. With all my secrets exposed, I feel like I can finally breathe. I peer over at her and shrug. “That was the way my dad worked.”
Lily’s fingers brush the tips of mine on the back of her couch. “That doesn’t make it okay. He made it impossible for you to find comfort in the one thing everyone deserves.”
I shrug because that’s the way life was for me. I couldn’t change it now. “It’s not that I’m not grateful I had a roof over my head and food in the cupboards. I know lots of kids don’t get that… I just—”
“Dean, it’s okay to feel resentful. I think you’ve earned that. Everyone deserves the right to feel safe and loved in his or her own home. You might have had a place to sleep every night, but you didn’t have a home. He was a lousy excuse for a father. Don’t for one second believe you deserved anything less.”
I nod, looking down at the carpet. Sawyer was always the one to tell me that I was of worth. Rolling my tongue around in my mouth, I bite it. It helps to keep my emotions under control. “I don’t know where to go from here. Is it twisted that as much as I hated him, I miss him?”
When she doesn’t answer, I look back up at her. Tears pool in her eyes, and she bites her lips with the shake of her head. “He was your dad, Dean.” She blinks the tears away. “It’s okay.”
“I don’t know how to handle everything I’m feeling. I’m angry. I’m bitter. And I’m sad. Devastatingly sad.” My fist rubs against my forehead as I look at my lap. It’s hard to look at Lily after everything I confessed. I try to focus my mind on the force of my fist on my forehead. It somehow calms the tears rising behind my eyes.
Lily’s hand reaches out and stops my fist from rubbing my forehead raw. She takes my hand in both of hers and scoots across the couch. She faces me with her legs crossed Indian-style. “You’re allowed to be angry. You’re allowed to feel bitterness. You’re allowed to mourn your dad, even if he made life a living hell for you. He was still your dad, Dean.” After a moment I look over at her. “But at the end of it all, you have to let it go. It’s not important anymore. Because he’s gone, you are now free from his hold over you. Your potential is limitless. You get a second chance at life to go and be whatever you want to.”
“I’m not sure that I know how to do that.”
She lets a trace of a smile form on her lips. “Well, then it’s a good thing you have me.”
I open my front door to see Lily with a picnic basket. “Hungry?”
“I could eat.” I smile and pull her in for a kiss.
“Oh,” she says against my mouth, and I feel her smile. Her arms loop around my neck, and she stands on her tiptoes to bring us closer to the same height. We break apart and she sighs. “Hi.”
“Hi.” I kiss her once more.
“I thought we could head to the park and have a picnic. It’s a really nice day. The leaves are beginning to change.”
“Sounds good to me.” I nod and put her down. “Let me go grab the keys to my truck.”
When we get to the park, I follow Lily with the picnic basket in my hands. Lily decides where we’re going to sit and fans out the blanket. It happens to be under the willow Sawyer and I spent nearly every week under during our junior and senior year. The drooping branches have faded to a yellowy green. It stops me from walking closer. I almost ask her if we can move, find any other tree in this park to sit under, but I don’t have a good enough excuse in mind. Nothing I can say will keep her from raising suspicion. And though nothing’s a secret between Lily and me, I don’t need to rub her face in my memories of Sawyer.
I help her straighten out the flannel blanket, and she kneels down with a bounce. “I brought sandwiches and some fruit.” She reaches into the basket and pulls out Tupperware filled with grapes and different kinds of melon. “I figured we could both use the boost with something healthy. We’ve been eating out so much recently.”
I have to remind myself that she’s trying to watch out for me, but it’s becoming increasingly difficult. I like my junk food. I want Twinkies and potato chips. I want fried chicken and donuts. Toss in a bag of Reese’s Pieces, and I’m set.
“Thanks, Lil,” I say, because she’s trying to be thoughtful.
We sit and eat in peace, watching people walk by. She starts talking about the most recent girl drama, and I immediately feel myself tuning her out, simply nodding my head when it’s seems like the right time. I don’t know how long she goes on. I finish my sandwich and pick at the grapes. She picks one up and holds up her hand, waiting for me to open my mouth. A smile turns her lips when she tosses it and misses my mouth completely. I tried to shift to the side to catch it, but she has horrible aim. We laugh and her rambling starts again, but this time I try to listen.
“Nicki can’t figure out what James wants. One minute he’s all over her, proclaiming love and marriage proposals, and the next he shuts down entirely and acts like she doesn’t exist. It doesn’t make sense. She thinks he’s seeing someone else behind her back, but that doesn’t seem like James to me, but what do I know…”
Yup. Nope. Can’t do it. I don’t care about Nicki. And James and I have never been friends, so I haven’t got a clue what’s floating around in his head. I’m not sure what she wants from me. I’ve got nothing.
The pond is placid today. The greenish-blue water shines like glass. It’s interesting to think of what’s going on underneath the surface. The top looks so calm, but underneath, creatures are trying to survive. Algae festers. A whole other world exists. It reminds me of Sawyer. She tries to remain composed on the outside, but I know there’s a world of emotions going on underneath the surface. Wind courses through the park and ripples the top of the water slightly.
I’m brought back to Lily when I hear her say, “Aww, look. It’s a dandelion.” She plucks the dandelion growing near the edge of blanket. “We should make a wish. What should we wish for?” she asks.
There are so many things I could wish for, so many things that if a wish could make them come true, my life would be set right again. I look from the dandelion to Lily with her smiling eyes. Sunlight glimmers through the willow branches, lightening the blonde in her hair that falls across her face. She really is beautiful. What could she possibly want to wish for? Life seems good to her. Anything that tries to knock her down hasn’t gotten the chance to leave its mark. She won’t let it. I admire her for that. I wish I could say the same about myself.
The sun flickers through the willow tree above us. The park is quiet today. We decided to come here after school because it’s always less busy on weekdays. Sawyer’s finger idly traces the tattoo on the inside of my arm.
“What if I don’t have time to wait for a shooting star?” I ask.
“You’ve got a big wish, huh?” Sawyer shifts on her side to look at me. “Well, no matter how simple or complex, I think the dandelion can handle it.” She peers at me from under her thick eyelashes and picks a dandelion sprouting between us. “She may look fragile, but all this white fuzz that blows away will plant its seed and start over again. Wherever it lands, a new dandelion will grow. She’ll get a new beginning.”