by Holly Jacobs
“Abe Lebowitz. He seems like a very nice guy. You’ve never seen an office like his. He...”
She laughed and actually wagged her finger at him. “No, not Abe Lebowitz. Tell me about the girl.”
“I don’t know that Audrey would like being called a girl. She’s a woman. She’s got three kids, two are teens. Her daughter Willow is the one I told you about. She’s been mowing my lawn.”
“And how old is she?” his mother pressed.
He deliberately misunderstood. “Sixteen. Willow just got her permit. I’ve never seen anyone so excited about...”
“No, Audrey.”
He sighed. He could keep trying to play stupid, but his mother was like a hound on a scent. She wasn’t going to let it go.
And he was never going to tell her that in his mind he’d just compared her to a dog.
“I’m not sure how old Audrey is. She’s the kids’ foster mom.”
“Ah.” His mother drew out the two-letter word until it was almost an entire alphabet in length. And she nodded her head. “I see.”
“See what?”
She smiled. “I see that we should help you set up for your party.”
His mother had always had very definite ideas on parties. He’d planned on setting up a few tables, but not only did his parents clean his entire house—which had been clean enough, in his opinion—but they decorated around the pool with little solar lights from the RV.
“Dad, why does she need strings of solar lights?” he whispered.
“Only God and your mom know what goes on in her head, and neither one is very good at explaining it to me, so I don’t even ask. I just accept that Judy Williams marches to her own beat and pulls me along with her.”
His father’s smile said he didn’t mind in the least.
Sawyer watched his parents work together.
He’d never thought about it before, but this was what he wanted. He wanted someone who would work with him. Someone who would bum around the country with him.
Someone who simply seemed to enjoy his company no matter what they were doing.
His parents were partners in the truest sense of the word.
After they carried a folding table outside and started back into the garage for another, their hands brushed together.
They kept holding hands until they disappeared into his garage.
A little later, as all three of them stood on the deck and admired the now-party-prepped yard, his mom stood on tiptoes and kissed his dad’s cheek, then kissed his.
“I’m so looking forward to this party,” she said. “I can’t wait to see Mart and his family. And I’m really looking forward to meeting your new friends.”
Audrey wasn’t going to know what hit her.
* * *
“I’VE GOT MY SWIMSUIT, I’m ready,” Bea announced Saturday morning at eight as she bounced on Audrey’s bed. “Get up.”
Audrey sat up slowly. She didn’t feel as if she’d gotten nearly enough sleep. Every time she finally dozed off, she’d dream. It would be nice if her dreams were about Sawyer, but they weren’t. They were about Merrill and Ava.
But not the nightmare that had plagued her. These dreams were more remembrances.
She’d dreamed of her junior prom. She didn’t have a dress or a date. But Ava had taken Merrill’s gown from the year before, torn it apart and reconstructed it into something new and beautiful. It was still in a garment bag in the attic along with other keepsakes.
She’d dreamed of the photo strip from the booth at Waldameer their senior year. Ava’s and Merrill’s photos had come to life and asked about her kids. Her photo had bragged on how well all three children were doing, then Ava had reached over and hugged her. “Building a family is good, but don’t use the kids as a way to avoid a relationship.”
Weird dreams.
That stupid invitation to the class reunion had started it all.
“Audreeeeey,” Bea said. “When can we go?”
“Sweetie, it’s a bit too early to leave for Sawyer’s.” It was too early to be awake, as well, but she didn’t mention that.
“Yeah, but you all gotta get up and get going. It takes you foreeeeevvver to get ready.”
“I’m not going to point out that that is a gross exaggeration. I know a lot of other people who take a lot longer to get ready to go anywhere.” She pointed toward Willow’s room.
Bea chortled. “Yeah. She tries to dress like she doesn’t care, but it takes a lot of time to look like you don’t care. Me, I can get dressed real quick ’cause I really don’t care. I’ve got my swimsuit on under my shorts and I’m ready to go.”
“You’re not going to let me go back to sleep, are you?” Audrey asked, hoping Bea would surprise her and agree that she should try to get a little more rest.
But Bea didn’t make the offer. She just grinned and said, “Nope.”
“Fine. Scram and I’ll get ready.”
She sat up in bed, and now that she was awake, she felt as excited as Bea. The house phone rang, which was unusual. Most people called her cell. “Hello?”
“Audrey, it’s me.” Her mind flashed to that photo strip of Ava, Merrill and her. One shot had them all making peace signs; in another they stuck out their tongues. And the last one caught the three of them laughing over how ridiculous their other poses had been. In those pictures they were carefree and convinced they’d be best friends forever. That life was going to be wonderful.
“Good morning, Ava,” she said.
“Did I wake you?”
Audrey shook her head, then realized Ava couldn’t see her. “No. I’ve already been jumped on and was about to get up.”
“Jumped on? Does that mean you have a boyfriend?” Ava teased, and the past decade disappeared. For that one moment, they were both those girls in the photos who believed that everything was going to be perfect.
Audrey laughed. “No, I was jumped on by a ten-year-old who is anxious to go swimming.”
There was a long silence, as those girls they had been faded back into memories and the adults they were had run out of things to say. Audrey remembered a day when there weren’t enough hours to say everything. Even after school, they’d spend hours on the phone talking.
“So you’re back in town?” Audrey asked.
“I’m staying with Dad. I’ve been out of the country more than I’ve been in it the past few years. I thought I’d take some time and think about my next step.”
“That’s great, Ava,” she said. “You deserve some time off.” Other than the message on her answering machine, the last time she’d heard Ava’s voice had been more than a year ago. Ava had been packing to go to... Audrey couldn’t remember what South American country she’d been headed to, but she knew her old friend was volunteering at some health clinic.
“I was hoping we could get together?” Ava made it a question more than a statement.
Audrey wasn’t sure if Ava really wanted to get together, or was asking because she wasn’t sure if Audrey would want to. “Of course. Today’s booked, but maybe tomorrow?”
“In the morning? I could bring doughnuts. Glazed twists and sprinkles,” she added.
“You remember.” The fact that Ava remembered her favorite doughnut didn’t surprise Audrey at all. Ava was like that. She saw everything, remembered the smallest details about everyone and frequently acted on those bits of knowledge.
That she became a nurse and a serial-volunteer didn’t surprise anyone who knew her.
“Yes. I remember everything,” Ava said, “and so do you. Merrill’s the one who seems to have forgotten us.”
“No, not us. She’s tried to forget that night. Who can blame her?”
“It wasn’t our fault. That’s what the cops said.”
Audrey
nodded. “I know it wasn’t, but that doesn’t change how it feels. Not for Merrill and not for me. I remember. So does Clinton.”
“How is he?” Ava asked.
At first, she’d gone to see him out of a sense of obligation. He’d been old beyond his years even then. “He’s family now.”
Ava was quiet a moment, then asked, “Will it bother him if I come over?”
Audrey understood Ava’s hesitancy. Neither Ava nor Merrill had ever understood her connection with Clinton. “No. I’ve said it before. He never blamed any of us.”
She heard Ava’s deep breath before she said, “Okay, then. You still have Bea, too?”
“Yes. And now a sixteen-year-old named Willow.”
“You know, some single women collect cats,” Ava teased.
Audrey laughed. “The kids are more interesting. Willow reminds me of me in a lot of ways.” Maybe that, more than anything else, was why Audrey had said yes to Willow coming to live with them.
“But a sixteen-year-old? Wow, you’re brave. I remember us at sixteen. I don’t know that I’d be up for dealing with the drama.”
“Willow’s been pretty drama free. And I remember what it’s like to be on your own and needing someone to care. I was lucky—I had you and Merrill. Now, Willow’s got me.”
Ava grew serious. “Despite everything, you still have us. Even if things have changed, you’ll always have us.” She paused, and then added, “I’ll see you tomorrow. Early.”
“Hey, I know what early looks like to you, so maybe not your version of early? After eight?”
Ava laughed. “Not a minute before. See you then.”
They hung up. Audrey knew that even after all these years, Ava hadn’t changed. She needed hardly any sleep. She got up at five in the morning and had more done before eight than most people accomplished in a full day.
There was a knock on the door. “I brought you coffee,” Bea said, holding out a big mug. “Let’s get going.”
A door slammed open down the hall. “Seriously, don’t any of you ever sleep?” Willow hollered.
“No,” Bea shouted back. She set Audrey’s mug of coffee on the nightstand.
Willow stomped into the doorway with creases from her pillow still evident on her cheek. “It’s way too early.”
Audrey could tell by Willow’s expression that it might be a tough day unless her mood swung in a happier direction, so she pointed out, “If we get to Sawyer’s early, maybe he’ll let Clinton and Bea swim while we take a drive through his neighborhood.”
As if on cue, Willow’s morning grumpiness evaporated and was replaced by utter glee. “Okay. I’ll go get a shower.”
“Morning, Clinton,” they heard her shout as she ran down the hall.
“What on earth did you do to Willow?” he asked from the doorway. “She seemed almost pleasant...in the morning. I think an alien pod-person is the only explanation that makes sense.”
“Audrey offered to let her go driving in Sawyer’s neighborhood,” Bea said.
“Hey, if that’s what it takes to make her happy, I think you should let her go driving every day,” he said.
They bustled through breakfast, then a quick household cleanup before Audrey texted Sawyer to see if it was too early for the kids to come swimming.
Anytime. You won’t be the first to arrive, he texted back.
Maggie was ready, which was no surprise—she was a morning person, too.
When they pulled into his drive, Audrey was surprised to see an RV parked close to the house, with a long cord plugging it into Sawyer’s power supply.
“Sawyer, I’m here,” Bea screamed as she bolted around the RV to the backyard.
Clinton rolled his eyes. “I’ll make sure she doesn’t drown,” he said as he followed her.
Audrey and Maggie both got out of the car as Sawyer came out of the house, followed by an older man and woman. He looked so much like the man that Audrey knew they had to be his parents. She remembered him saying they lived somewhere in...Arizona, maybe? And that they RV’d and visited on a moment’s notice.
She heard the car door slam and knew that Willow had moved into the driver’s seat. Audrey checked and Willow waved impatiently, indicating she should hurry up.
Audrey gestured “one minute” to Willow, then walked toward Sawyer’s parents. “Hi,” she said.
“Mom and Dad, this is Audrey. Audrey, my folks, Judy and Steve.”
“Nice to meet you both,” Audrey said.
“It’s very nice to meet you,” his mom said.
Sawyer looked nervous, which made her feel nervous. Did he think his parents wouldn’t approve of her? Not that there was anything between them that required parental approval.
Maggie cleared her throat.
“Sorry. I forget that not everyone in the world automatically knows who Maggie is. This is my friend and neighbor Maggie Mayberry.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you all,” Maggie said. “Sawyer, thank you for including me in the invitation. I know Clinton’s watching Bea, but I’d feel better if I was back there, too, if you don’t mind me making myself at home.”
“I don’t mind at all.”
With that, Maggie followed the kids around the house. Which left Audrey stuck with Sawyer and his parents on her own. She didn’t know what to say.
“Those were your kids?” Sawyer’s mom asked.
“Clinton and Bea were the streaks that ran to the pool. And that’s Willow in the car. I promised her a quick drive before the party.”
“You have a daughter old enough to drive?” his mother said.
“Foster daughter,” Audrey replied.
“And you took in the other two, as well? That’s a lot for a woman your age.”
Audrey couldn’t tell what his mother thought, and before she could formulate a response, Sawyer said, “They might not be Audrey’s biological kids, but they’re hers. Her age has nothing to do with it.”
His mom nodded. “You’re right. I have a friend who always says that blood doesn’t make a family a family...love does.”
Audrey smiled. “Your friend is a wise woman.” She turned to Sawyer. “You’re sure it’s okay to dump the younger kids and Maggie May here while I take Willow off for a quick spin?”
“Definitely,” he assured her.
“Thanks.” To his parents, she explained, “Willow just got her permit, and the streets out here are the perfect place to practice.”
“Ask me about Sawyer’s first years driving. The time he hit the semi...the parked semi. That’s a classic.”
“Thank you, Mom,” Sawyer said. “I was trying to convince Audrey that I was unbelievably cool.”
His mom snorted. “Honey, you’re adorable, but cool?”
Audrey laughed. “I can’t wait to hear more. Of course, Willow will hate it if you scare me off with more driving horror stories.” Her laughter faded. Yes, she didn’t need more driving horror stories.
Suddenly, she was glad she offered to take Willow driving. “We’ll be back to help with whatever you need in fifteen minutes or so.”
“You’re welcome to take as long as you want,” Sawyer said.
“Fifteen minutes at a crack is all my heart can handle at the moment. Maybe after a few more weeks of practice we’ll try longer jaunts.”
He laughed and led his parents toward the backyard.
His parents.
Audrey watched the three of them, his mother laughing at something he said.
Audrey wasn’t sure if he knew how lucky he was.
CHAPTER EIGHT
WILLOW HAD ALWAYS loved the opening of The Sound of Music—not that she’d ever admit that in public. But she adored that moment when Maria was up on the mountain and threw her arms wide and sang to the sky.
Driving a car with Audrey might not be quite the same thing, but Willow kept finding herself humming bits of the music as she drove through Sawyer’s quiet county streets.
Audrey was a good teacher. She didn’t yell. She just talked. She gave clear, step-by-step instructions. Things like, “The stop sign is coming up. Take your foot off the accelerator, and now ease on the brake. Come to a complete stop. Check for cars and...”
It was kind of nice. Willow always knew what to expect. Audrey was like that with more than just driving. That was one of the best things about living with her. Audrey made it clear what she expected of you, but she never minded helping if you needed it. And she never seemed to get mad. She never hit anyone or screamed. Her house was the best one Willow had ever lived in.
Oh, there were annoying things. Like the fact they all got up at the crack of dawn, even in the summer. Willow tended to stay up late reading. Mornings were not her favorite part of the day. But even when she grumped about it, she didn’t mind so much.
Part of her worried that one day Audrey would realize that she’d made a mistake. That she’d send her back. Willow knew she couldn’t go back into a group home.
As they headed back toward Sawyer’s, Audrey simply reminded her about a stop sign, and waited to see if Willow remembered what to do. Willow took her foot off the gas, slowly applied pressure to the brake and came to a complete stop.
Audrey said, “Great job, Willow.”
It was a little thing, but it was nice.
“I don’t know if you noticed how nervous I was about teaching you—or anyone—to drive, but you’re making it easy,” Audrey said. “You’re paying attention and being careful. I’m proud of you. Really, thank you for making this a good experience.”
“No, thank you. I mean it, Audrey. Thanks.”
That was it. They didn’t say anything else. But Willow felt warmed by the fact Audrey was proud of her.
Her own opinion should be the only one that mattered. But little by little, Audrey’s opinion was starting to mean something to her, too. She wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.
When they got to the pool party, Sawyer introduced them to everyone as they arrived. His parents were the old couple Audrey had talked to when they dropped off Maggie and the kids.
