by Mara Jacobs
“No. I sold that place after she died.”
“And you obviously don’t live in the ice cube full-time.”
“Don’t think I could rough it like we’ve been doing on a full-time basis?”
“Yeah, you probably could, but there was too much fresh snow on the tracks for that to be the case.”
He leaned over and kissed her quickly. “My little logical engineer.”
She pushed on his chest a little, but secretly preened. “So, where do you live?”
A last-ditch effort of her Rumplestiltskin image played through her mind.
“Laurium.”
So, no small man prancing around a hidden cottage after all.
“Laurium? Like across the highway from here?”
“Yep. Good ol’ Laurium. Neighbor to Calumet. Home of George Gipp.”
“Who?”
“George Gipp. The Gipper.”
She shook her head, still not getting it.
“You know…‘Win one for the Gipper.’”
“I’ve heard of that…I think.”
He let out an exaggerated sigh. “Good God, how young are you? Never mind, don’t answer that. I’m feeling creaky enough today after our workout this weekend.”
She took a drink of her beer and grinned at him.
“We’ll have to rent Knute Rockne, All American so you can see who George Gipp was.”
“Now you’re showing your age, old man. You don’t rent anymore. You stream.”
“Whatever. Ronald Reagan played the Gipper.”
“Who’s Ronald Reagan?” she teased.
“Ha ha, you’re so funny.
“So, since you live so close, are you going to take me to see your house before you bring me back to Hancock?”
“No way. It’s a disaster zone right now. Basically just a mattress in one room and all my shit piled in another.”
“Why?”
“I haven’t been in this one very long, and I don’t really unpack much more than my tools and some clothes, anyway.
“When I sold the house Molly and I lived in, I gave all the furniture to Liv for her and Matt’s new house—she and Twain had been renting an apartment before that. The good stuff that I didn’t want to sell or give away, like photos and some wedding gifts, is in storage.”
“Again, why? I mean, I get selling the home you and Molly were going to have a family in, but why all the moving?”
“I kind of buy places cheap and fix them up. Then I want to find a new one.”
“You flip houses?”
He chuckled and took a drink of his pop, a look of chagrin on his face. “Well, not exactly. Flippers usually make money. And they’re certainly quick about their renovations.”
“Well…yeah. That’s kind of the whole point.”
“But it’s not my point. I live in a place for a while, take my time, move from one project to another, and then change my mind. I use materials and finishes that price houses out of the market, so I end up underpricing them just so I can get rid of it when I’m done. I get to a point where I need to move on to a new one. So, yes, technically I’m a flipper—I’m just not very good at it.”
“I’d love to see one of the houses you’ve finished sometime.”
“There are a couple that are now owned by people who’d be cool with me bringing you by, if I gave them a little notice.”
“But I don’t get to see the one you’re in now?”
“I’m not holding out on you. There’s literally nothing to see. It’s gutted right now with just a bare bones kitchen and bath.”
She sat back on the stool and took the last drink of her beer.
He paid the tab and they rose to leave. Before she could move away from the stool, he leaned into her space. Leaned into her. “Besides,” he whispered in her ear as he gently kissed her neck, “I’ve already taken you to the place where I really live.”
She wrapped her arms around her and kissed him right there at the end of Tootie’s bar with the stained-glass canopy behind them and the catcalls of the other patrons in her ears.
Chapter Twenty Two
I quit therapy because my analyst was trying to help me behind my back.
~ Richard Lewis
She invited him in when he dropped her off, but he told her he needed to be at his house early the next morning because flooring was going to be delivered.
So instead, they made out like teenagers in his truck before she finally pulled away, patted Lucy goodbye, and went into her home. Leaving him horny as hell for the drive back to Laurium.
The flooring was delivered and unloaded Monday morning. Typically Sawyer would dive right in on a large, mindless project like laying hardwood flooring.
But instead, he found himself showering up, putting on khakis and a work shirt, and loading Lucy in the truck.
“Wanna go for a ride, girl?” Lucy barked, wagged her tail once, and then began to curl up in her designated area in the backseat. “Wanna go see Deni?” Lucy sat up, putting her snout on the back of Sawyer’s seat, barking madly with her tail wagging wildly.
“Yeah, I know what you mean,” he said as he put the truck in gear.
Andy was surprised to see him and even more shocked when Sawyer asked about his old office.
“I’ve been telling you for a long time—it was yours anytime.”
“Yeah, I know. I think…” He looked his partner, his oldest friend, in the eye and said, “I think it’s ‘anytime.’”
It was all Andy could do not to hug him, Sawyer could tell, so he quickly shook hands with him and made his way to his old office with Andy following in his wake. Not knowing what the future held, he’d spent the last week working out of the conference room.
“We’ve kept the equipment up to date. Sometimes we use it if somebody’s machine is down or something, but you should be able to connect with the network. Yeah, there we go.” Andy had stepped behind Sawyer’s old work area and booted up the laptop and the three larger screens that were in a semicircle on the sleek walnut desk.
“What do you want to look at first?” he asked, stepping back so Sawyer could sit in the cushy leather chair, which he did. “Here’s the open projects list. And on this server is status updates for each one. And here’s the instant messaging system that came with our last upgrade. And—”
“Andy, slow down. Let me just get used to sitting at a desk first,” he said, giving his partner a stern look.
Which didn’t deter Andy at all, and he continued for another ten minutes, then left Sawyer and Lucy alone, the door open—though the walls were glass anyway.
He looked down at his dog sniffing around the unfamiliar room. It was as if she knew she was going to be spending some time here, so she tried to find the optimum place to snooze.
Sawyer called up the instant messaging software Andy had showed him. Icons for the entire staff came up with their statuses showing in different colors and messages. There was a yellow diamond next to Deni’s name. When he hovered over it, the message came up “away from my desk.” Well, duh. It’d been the first thing he’d noticed walking down the row of cubes to Andy’s office. Okay, like a lovesick schoolgirl he’d been dying to catch a glimpse of her. He would have seen her if she’d entered the main work area in the fifteen minutes or so since he’d been here.
Where the hell was Deni?
Deni was in the ladies’ room on her cell, talking her mom out of hopping in her car and making the ten-hour drive from Detroit to Houghton.
“I’m telling you, I’m fine. I’ve just been really busy at work this past week. We had a big new project that had a quick-turnaround deadline.”
“You couldn’t have answered an email?”
“Mom, I barely had time to eat or sleep last week. I didn’t answer anybody’s emails.”
“They’re working you too hard there,” her mother said, concern in her voice.
Okay, walking a bit of a tightrope here. “No, it was just some late nights during the week. We turne
d it in on Friday.” Letting her know that her job was not too much for her, and yet opening herself to…
“So, you had the weekend off? But didn’t return any of my calls? I tried your cell half a dozen times.”
The other side of the coin.
“I was away for the weekend. And where I was didn’t have cell coverage. I didn’t get back into town until late yesterday, and since I was tired from the long week, I went right to bed.”
There was silence on the other end as her mother digested this all. Deni knew her mother worried about her. And had worried even more these past months since the SAD hit her. But it was well past time to define her boundaries. See, she’d even picked up shrink talk from Alison.
“Mom,” she said in a calm, adult voice, “I know you’re concerned. But there will be times when I can’t get back to you right away. Because I’m busy, or away, or just generally living my own life. You need to respect those times and try not to worry. I know that’s hard. I know you love me. I love you too, very much. But it’s time to let go, Mom.”
More silence. Deni feared she’d hurt the woman who, yes, drove her crazy at times, but whom she deeply loved.
“Well,” her mother began hesitantly, “you’re right, of course, Deni.”
Deni waited for the “but,” which never came.
“I’ll let you get back to work now, honey. I was concerned because I couldn’t reach you over the weekend, but…did you have a nice time? Wherever you went?”
“It was up past Copper Harbor. And yes, it was a great time.” She tried to keep her tone even, to not gush. First, she wasn’t a gusher by nature. Second, she didn’t want to talk about Sawyer to her mom. Not yet.
“That’s nice. Okay, honey. I’ll let you go.”
That seemed a little too easy, but Deni took it. “Bye, Mom. Love you.”
She hung up and started to leave the women’s room when her phone rang again. Alison’s number popped up. Happy that she’d decided to take her mom’s call in the privacy of the seldom-used women’s room, Deni propped herself back against the counter and answered.
“Hi, Alison.”
“Hi, Deni. Do you have a second? And are you able to talk freely?”
“Yes. And yes. I’m in a private room right now.”
And until Sue needed to use the bathroom, it would be all hers.
“Great. Listen, a quick trip to Detroit has suddenly come up, and I’m going to be leaving Friday morning. I’m calling to reschedule.”
“Oh, okay.”
“How does Thursday look for you?”
She thought her schedule was pretty clear, but said, “Look, I’m okay just skipping this week, if you are. We don’t have to try to reschedule. I’ll just see you the following Friday, regular time.”
“Are you sure? I’m happy to get you in. I can be here any evening too, if that would fit better into your schedule.”
Very nice of her, but Deni didn’t want to put Alison out. Besides…
“Actually I’m feeling pretty good right now, so I’m okay with skipping a week.”
“I’m glad you’re feeling better. As we’ve talked about before, moods play a big part in SAD. So being in a good mood is its own therapy, in a way. Have you been continuing on with the light box? Do you think that has played a part?”
If they’d been in Alison’s office, sitting in the comfy chairs, she probably would have told her therapist that a big part of it was from getting laid—repeatedly—over the weekend. But being in the women’s room at work?
“I’m sure that’s part of it.”
“And the irritability?”
Even Snide Randy didn’t bother her this morning. She actually didn’t want to punch his face when she’d walked by him on her way to her cube. “Not bad. Better, in fact.”
“Well, good. Then we’ll see each other the following Friday, if you’re sure.”
“Yes, that’s good.”
“Okay. And Deni, feel free to call if you want. This number gets you my service when I’m not available, and they can reach me. But…” Deni could feel the hesitation in Alison’s voice and wondered if they weren’t at the edge of the therapist to friend line. “I’m going to text you my cell number. Call that if you need to talk. I mean it.”
“Okay. Thanks, Alison. But I’m sure I’ll be fine. Have a good trip.”
“Thanks, bye.”
Deni left the bathroom and made her way back to her cubicle. Sitting at her desk, she noticed her office IM blinking, which was unusual. Usually Charlie just popped over to her cube to talk. Were they to this point, then? That he’d be IM’ing her instead of dropping by? And was that probably for the best?
But no, the IM wasn’t from Charlie. It was from…Sawyer?
She read the message and smiled.
“How about lunch? This office life is killing me.”
She turned him down for lunch. But she did invite him to her house for dinner, which he quickly accepted, even telling her he’d bring over takeout.
This was all done via IM, and he took his cue from her and didn’t approach her cube to talk specifically with her. Or drop to his knees and put his head under her skirt and get her off, as he really wanted to do.
Yeah, he’d been gone from the office for a while.
Throughout the course of the day, pretty much everyone stopped by his office to talk with him. Some were welcoming him and some feeling him out. He wasn’t really sure what to tell them. He wasn’t really sure himself what he was doing here.
Charlie didn’t stop by, though, and he supposed that was just as well.
And neither did Deni. But that was okay, too. It just built the anticipation that had begun the minute he’d dropped her off last night.
God, it’d been so long since he felt like this…it was so foreign to him and yet was so natural.
Around three, he turned off his laptop and decided to call it a day. Lucy wasn’t in his office. He hadn’t noticed when she’d left, but he wasn’t too concerned. His dog never strayed too far from him, and she always came back.
Yeah, his brother Twain could be an asshole at times, and he’d been completely pissed when Twain had shown up with puppy Lucy, but it was one of the best things that had happened to Sawyer.
Well, behind meeting and loving two incredible women at different times—and different phases—of his life.
The thought was so overwhelming, he almost stumbled as he walked. And then…and then it wasn’t.
Yes, he had loved Molly. With all his heart. And there would always be guilt that he couldn’t have helped in some way. But there was also joy when he thought of their life together, short as it was.
And yes, he did love Deni. Was in love with her. It was fast, and they didn’t know each other all that well—and yet they did. His love for Deni was different than what he’d shared with Molly. He and Molly had been young, just out of high school when they met, and had grown into adulthood together, learning their way.
He loved Deni with more maturity, with an open eye, and, yes, an open heart, which he honestly never thought possible again.
“Hey, I’m heading out,” he told Andy from the doorway to Andy’s office. Andy waved him in and motioned for Sawyer to close the door behind him, which he did.
“So, how does it feel?” Andy asked him.
Thoughts of admitting to himself that he loved Deni were still running through his mind. “Scary as hell,” he said, not really to his friend. “But really, really good, too.”
“That’s great, Sawyer. And, you know, take your time. Ease into it.”
Sawyer figured in about two hours he’d be easing into it—easing into Deni. “Oh, I will.”
“But here’s the thing,” Andy said, leaning forward, his forearms on his desk. “We probably don’t want to confuse the group, you know? I mean, you come in for a few days, maybe a week, and then they don’t see you for another ten years.”
Sawyer was about to say that wasn’t going to happen, but he kep
t quiet.
“I would love for you to be back full time. The business would be much stronger for it, and I would have my partner back.” Andy’s voice caught at the end.
Not for the first time, Sawyer realized that he’d been incredibly selfish with his grief, leaving the business for Andy to run on his own.
“And if you want to continue on as silent partner, I’m okay with that too. But, for the staff, I’m asking you to think about this. Only come back if you’re back. If you’re ready. If you’re truly committed.”
He nodded to his friend and then started to open the door. “I will, Andy. I’ll think about it. But right now?” He looked down the row of cubes and saw Lucy’s hindquarters sticking out of Deni’s work area. “I’m ready to commit.”
Chapter Twenty Three
The engineering is secondary to the vision.
~ Cynthia Ozick
Finally she pulled up in front of her house. Sawyer looked at the clock on the dash of his truck—five-fifteen. Okay, so she’d come home straight from work. It wasn’t her fault that he’d been parked at her curb for nearly an hour.
When he’d left the office, he’d driven by Liv and Matt’s house to see if his nephew was feeling any better. No one was home, so Matty must have been well enough to go to school and thus Liv could head to Tech, where she worked as an admin to one of the deans.
He then went to the Commodore and had a beer at the bar while they made him a pizza to go.
A pizza that was surely cold by now. He hadn’t timed that very well, he thought. But seeing Deni leave her garage after pulling her Subaru in, her ponytail squashed down and under her knit hat, Sawyer was suddenly not nearly as hungry as he had been.
“How long have you been waiting here?” she asked as he and Lucy approached her.
“Umm…not long.”
She quirked an eyebrow at him and then raised the lid of the pizza box. The pizza was definitely past its prime, the cheese congealed.
“Well, maybe a little while,” he admitted. “I was anxious to see you.” He leaned in and kissed her, but the damn pizza box got in the way of any real action.
