Her Second Chance Family (Contemporary Romance)

by Holly Jacobs

  Sawyer nodded. “Yeah, I’ve heard a lot about Audrey’s sayings.”

  Audrey jumped into the conversation. “You have?”

  He nodded. “That day I agreed to let Willow mow for me? Her pitch was punctuated by the words she said. And the she in question was you.”

  “You do say lots of stuff, Audrey,” Bea said with a wicked grin.

  Audrey shook her head. “I don’t say anything more than anyone else does.”

  “You have so many sayings that sound like they should be on a poster, or something,” Clinton said. “‘You can blame your past or your circumstances, but it’s all about the choices you make.’”

  Bea caught onto the game. “Or how about ‘I choose to be happy, because the alternative isn’t nearly as nice.’”

  “‘Being nice doesn’t cost you any more than being mean does,’” Clinton said.

  Bea chortled. “‘Smiles don’t cost anything, so why not give them away?’”

  “Or...how about you two go buy some snacks or else I’m going to ground you for being annoying,” Audrey scolded.

  “Annoying?” Clinton asked. “Do you hear that, Bea? She thinks we’re annoying.”

  Bea fluttered her eyelashes and cradled her chin on her clasped hands. “I’m angelic. That’s the A word she was looking for.”

  “I can think of a lot of A words, but right now angelic isn’t one of them,” Audrey grumbled. She pulled money from her back pocket and handed it to Clinton. “Did you want something, Sawyer?”

  He laughed. “No, I’m just sitting here enjoying the dinner show.”

  Audrey gave him her fiercest look, then turned back to Clinton. “Why don’t you get him the same thing as me.”

  Clinton laughed as he and Bea took off toward the food trucks. “They’re very good kids,” she mused, more to herself than to Sawyer.

  But he agreed with her. “They are. Are you sure they’ll be okay?”

  “Clinton’s fifteen and Bea is his devoted minion, so they’ll be fine. Plus if you don’t let kids spread their wings on occasion, then how will they ever manage when they’re adults and supposed to be able to fly on their own?”

  Sawyer laughed. “That sounds like another award-winning ‘Audrey-ism.’”

  She sighed. “I don’t really say that many things, do I?”

  “I haven’t been around long enough to judge, but I will say, that day when Willow was making her pitch, she said came up in most of her sentences.”

  “So, I’m bossy?” Audrey sounded totally depressed at the thought.

  Sawyer shook his head. “No, that’s not how you come across. Willow admires you, and though I don’t think she’d ever admit it, she wants to make you proud of her. She talked about balancing her karma.”

  “She scoffed at the idea when I mentioned it,” Audrey said. “I didn’t have a better way to put it. I just think that it’s important to try and pay back, even when you know you never can.”

  “Maybe she scoffed, but I think the idea touched something in her. Do you really believe in karma?”

  Audrey shrugged. “It’s the best description for what I believe.”

  “Which is?” he pressed. Even as he asked the question, he realized he was pushing her. He’d peppered her with questions all day. That wasn’t like him. He didn’t normally pry and poke. But with Audrey, for whatever reason, he wanted to know everything about her.

  He thought about Millie.

  Maybe he wanted to know what made Audrey tick. If he could understand Audrey, maybe he could emulate her and learn to forgive Millie. And if he could do that, maybe he could move on with his life.

  “I guess when I say karma, I’m saying that we all put a lot of things out into the world. I just try to put out more good than not. For instance, I was flying to a conference last fall. Maggie May came and stayed with Clinton and Bea...”

  “This was before Willow?” he asked.

  Audrey nodded. “Yes. She didn’t come to us until February, but you know, I can’t remember what it was like before she was ours.”

  He was afraid she’d stop her story, so he said, “And you were flying to a conference?”

  “Yes. I had the window seat. And this man came and took the aisle seat.” She smiled at the memory.

  Sawyer would never admit it, but he didn’t like the thought of her smiling at another man. He didn’t say anything, but he felt out of sorts picturing it. Which was absurd. He hardly knew Audrey and certainly had no claims on her.

  She didn’t seem to notice his annoyance, and kept talking. “I looked up from my book and smiled. I said hello. And then he said hello, and then... Well, we talked the rest of the flight. He was an airline mechanic. He mentioned his wife within the first few minutes. I thought it was lovely that he wanted to make sure I knew he wasn’t hitting on me, that he was married. We talked about his kids and my kids. I mentioned my kids want a dog, and he said he had cats...”

  “And?” Sawyer pressed.

  “At the end of the flight, as we taxied to our gate, he told me thank you. I had no clue what he was thanking me for. But then he said he flew every week for work, and he hadn’t talked to someone on a flight for years. I asked why me, and he said, ‘Because you smiled at me.’ I’ve remembered that ever since, and I am more aware that the smallest thing can mean the most.”

  Sawyer had never met the guy Audrey was talking about, but he got what he was saying. “I know what that mechanic and Willow both meant. You...”

  “We’re back,” Bea yelled. She handed Sawyer a frozen nutty ice cream cone, and Clinton handed Audrey one.

  Audrey grinned and unwrapped hers with enthusiasm. More than enthusiasm. She unwrapped it like a kid unwrapped a big present under the tree Christmas morning.

  “So, you like ice cream?” he asked.

  Clinton scoffed. “Saying that Audrey likes ice cream is like saying water is a little wet.”

  “Or the sun’s a little hot,” Bea added.

  Clinton caught on to the game. “Or Lake Erie’s a little big.”

  “Or Audrey is only picked on a little,” Audrey added loudly. To Sawyer she said, “Ice cream is one of the world’s most perfect foods. No matter how full you are, you’re never too full for ice cream. It simply melts and fills up the cracks and crevices.”

  She bit the top layer of chocolate and nuts with gusto.

  “You going to show Sawyer how to eat it right?” Bea asked, already laughing.

  “I’m assuming your right way of eating ice cream is something other than the traditional way?” he asked.

  Before Audrey could say anything, Bea laughed. “Oh, yeah, it is. You eat the top part, like she just did, then bite off the end of the cone and suck the rest of the ice cream out that way. Audrey likes to have just the empty cone to nibble on. She likes the chocolate and sugar cone. It’s her favorite part, and Audrey always saves her favorite parts for last.”

  “Are you going to show me how it’s done?” he asked.

  Audrey shook her head. “I’m self-conscious now.”

  “Come on, Audrey. You know you want to,” Bea prompted.

  “Not today.”

  The sun sank behind the peninsula as the band sang on the amphitheater stage. Sawyer had to admit, the kids looked harmless. A ponytailed girl on drums, and two very clean-cut boys.

  “They’re pretty good,” Clinton said.

  “Do you know Willow’s friend?” Sawyer asked. He wasn’t sure why he was so concerned about Willow. He liked her, and he liked Audrey and the other kids, but it wasn’t as if he had any real connection to them. They were simply people he knew, no more, no less.

  “We hang in different circles at school, so I don’t know Jill, but I know who she is.” As if sensing that Sawyer was hoping for more than that, Cli
nton added, “She seems nice, though. Jill’s big in the drama department. And she’s hanging out with this guy Jeff, who is on the robotics team.”

  “What he’s saying is, they’re geeks and good influences on Willow, so don’t worry,” Bea said, getting right to the heart of the matter. “She’s been hanging out with a nice crowd at school.”

  Sawyer felt a sense of relief.

  “She’s doing okay,” Clinton added.

  The band stopped playing and the local philharmonic took the stage and started playing patriotic songs.

  “It’s almost time,” Bea said. “You know I love fireworks,” she added for Sawyer’s benefit.

  “Is there anything you don’t love?” he asked, teasing.

  Bea wasn’t teasing when she answered, “Yes. There are some things I don’t love at all.” She turned around and Clinton put his arm around her shoulders.

  “Sorry. I stepped in it again?” Sawyer asked Audrey.

  “Not really,” she said.

  “Maybe Willow isn’t gonna come,” Bea fretted.

  “Hey, squirt, if I say I’ll be here, then I’ll be here, unless I’ve got a good excuse,” Willow said as she sat down on the blanket.

  “What would be a good excuse?” Bea asked.

  “Abduction by aliens. That’s definitely a good excuse. Or worse, if I were turned into a zombie. Of course, then I’d come back, but you wouldn’t be happy to see me.” Willow held out her hands in a more Frankensteinish than zombie way.

  “No, no talk of zombies,” Bea squealed. “I don’t know how you and Clinton watch that show.”

  “It’s a great study of human behavior,” Clinton tried.

  “Yeah, that’s what nerd boy says ’cause he doesn’t want to admit he likes zombies,” Willow teased.

  “I’ve heard of that show,” Sawyer told them.

  “They like it,” Audrey said.

  “Oh, don’t let Audrey fool you. She watches it, too,” Willow teased.

  Clinton laughed. “Watches it with her eyes closed during any zombie fight scenes.”

  “I don’t watch it at all,” Bea said. “I leave the room and turn on my iPod loud so I don’t hear the moans and screams and stuff.”

  “Yeah, ’cause you’re too young,” Clinton said, sounding superior.

  “’Cause I’m too smart,” Bea assured him. “Hey, Audrey, maybe that’s why you’re having nightmares again. Zombies.”

  Audrey shook her head, and said, “It’s almost time for the fireworks to start.”

  Sawyer caught on as Audrey redirected the conversation away from her nightmares. But he hated the thought of her suffering through them.

  He hadn’t had nightmares since he was a kid, but he remembered waking up with remnants of terror. He reached across the blanket and put his hand on hers. He didn’t try to hold her hand, or even move any closer. He just laid his hand on hers and hoped she understood he was offering his comfort. Then to help steer the conversation to better subjects, he said, “I bet this will be good.”

  The music stopped and the mayor walked onstage, welcomed everyone to the fireworks and talked for a few minutes, but Sawyer’s attention was focused on Audrey.

  He remembered that first day when Willow had mentioned that Audrey had problems at night. Now Bea was talking about her having nightmares.

  The first firework launched from the barge on the bay. The orchestra’s tempo picked up and the bass drum boomed in sync with the subsequent explosion.

  “Ooh,” Bea screamed.

  Another firework and she said, “Ahh.”

  She turned and looked at Sawyer and Willow. “Come on, you two. Join in the ooh-ahhs.

  There was no way to resist her happiness, and the five of them sat and oohed and ahhed in turn as the fireworks burst over the bay.

  After the show, as they walked back to the trolley station and waited to catch a ride up State Street, Sawyer had to admit—if only to himself—that he was totally taken with Audrey and her kids. He watched as she listened to whatever Bea was excitedly saying. She looked over the little girl’s head and her eyes met his.

  He realized that he found Audrey Smith intriguing. He loved her little sayings; he loved her passion for her work and even for compost.

  He wanted to know more about her.

  As they drove east across Erie, he said, “Why don’t we drop the kids off at your house and then you can come back to pick up your car.”

  “That sounds like a perfect idea—I’m exhausted,” Willow said with an exaggerated yawn as if to prove the point.

  He glanced in the rearview mirror and Willow was grinning as she continued, “And poor Bea—why, she can hardly keep her eyes open. I mean, it’s ten-thirty. She needs to get in bed right away.”

  “I’m fine,” Bea protested.

  He glanced back again and Willow was whispering in her ear.

  Bea changed her tune. “Willow’s right, Audrey. I’m so tired. Could you guys drop us at home before you get your car?”

  Audrey turned around. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, just tired.” Bea yawned loudly. “All that swimming, the food at the picnic, then at the fireworks.”

  “Fine,” Audrey said. “It’ll only take me a few minutes to get back with the car.”

  “You take your time, Audrey,” Willow said. “Me and Clinton can manage things. And before you say anything, yes, we know Maggie’s right next door if there’s a problem, and yes, we know your cell number.”

  Audrey got out of the car and unlocked the house for the kids, then climbed back into the passenger seat.

  “What on earth was that about, do you think?” she asked Sawyer.

  “I think the kids were giving us some time to be alone.”

  She looked genuinely confused. “Why would they do that?”

  Sawyer backed out of her drive and turned toward home. “I think they like me and hope you like me, too.”

  “Of course I like you. You’re a nice man.”

  “I mean, like me like me,” he said.

  “Oh.” Audrey didn’t say anything else.

  “Yeah, oh,” Sawyer echoed. “I think we can both agree our first date was a good one. Which leads me to ask, when can I see you again?”

  “Date?” Audrey choked out. “This wasn’t a date. You invited us over because you like Willow. It was just a picnic and fireworks.”

  “Willow was certainly part of why I asked you all over. And Clinton and Bea are nice kids, too. But I asked you over because I wanted to get to know you better. So we spent the day together, had a meal, watched some fireworks. That’s a date. And I’d like a second one.”

  Audrey shook her head. “I’m sorry if I led you on. That was not a date. I don’t date.”

  Sawyer didn’t say anything else as they made the rest of the short drive from her house in Wesleyville to his in Harborcreek. When he pulled into the drive, she was already out of the car and digging in her pocket for her keys before he’d even turned off the ignition.

  “Thanks again, Sawyer,” she said, jumping out of the car. “I’m sorry for any confusion.”

  He hurried and got out, as well, then walked around to her car. She slid her key in the car’s lock, but before she could open the car door he was next to her.

  “Okay, let’s try this.” He took a step closer, but didn’t touch her as she turned to face him.

  He carefully kept his hands at his sides, making it easy for her to pull away if she wanted. Then slowly, so slowly, he leaned down and kissed her. Hardly more than two pairs of lips brushing each other.

  She didn’t pull away.

  It was a quick kiss, hardly more than a peck, but Sawyer knew he’d been right. He tried not to gloat as he said, “Audrey, that kiss means it was defini
tely a date.”

  She took a step back. “Listen, Sawyer, you’re a very nice man. And I can’t tell you how much I appreciate how you’ve dealt with Willow, but I don’t have the time to date anyone. Between work, the Greenhouse and the kids—especially Willow, who’s still finding her feet—there’s just no time for long romantic dinners.”

  “I get that. But what I’m hearing is, you can date me, but only if I can make the dates fit within your limited time frames. Challenge accepted.”

  “No, that’s not what I said.” She turned back to the car, as if ready to make her escape.

  “Audrey, answer me this—did you enjoy your day? Not just the picnic and fireworks, but spending time with me? Did you enjoy it?”

  She sighed. “Yes.”

  “And did you enjoy the kiss?” he asked.

  “It was very...nice,” she finally settled on.

  “Then let’s try another get-together. No pressure. We won’t call it a date, but if it works out, and if we try another kiss and both still like it, then we’ll go on an actual date.”

  She sighed. “We can try another get-together, and if that works out, I’ll consider a date.”

  “You are a very tough negotiator.”

  * * *

  AUDREY LOOKED AT this man who’d spent a day with her and the kids and seemed to enjoy it. She had to admit—if only to herself—she really enjoyed him. She felt this immense bubble of happiness pressing at her chest, as if it would burst out at any moment. She didn’t even try to keep it in.

  “I’ll see you on Monday,” was all she said.

  “Sounds good. And when I see you, we’ll talk about another get-together.”

  She was smiling as she drove from his house back to hers. She was smiling so hard that her face felt as if it might cramp and freeze with that expression.

  The thought made her smile even harder. There were worse things than having your expression stuck in a permanent smile.

  Willow was sitting on the stairs waiting for her as she came into the house.

  “What are you so happy about?” Willow asked.

  “I had a very nice time tonight. Well, actually, all day. What’s not to be happy about?” She kicked off her shoes. “How about you? Did you have fun with your friends?”