“Yeah, I was too groggy to remember that talk, but it made for one hell of a campaign ad. Too bad you didn’t have cameras on my side, too. Could have used it for my campaign. Not very forward thinking of you, Dad.”
“If you’re insinuating—”
“Not insinuating anything, Dad,” Sawyer cut him off. “I’m saying if you wanted to see Grace, you should have been a man about it and called her up, instead of coming over here on a Tuesday and using me as an excuse.”
Grace gasped. “Oh Sawyer, that is not true. You’re father would never—” She broke off, obviously flummoxed by his accusation. “Why in the world would you think a great man like your father would want a little fat thing like me? I’m sorry but you’ve got this all wrong. Tell him, Admiral Grant.”
She folded her arms across her plump chest, keeping her worried eyes on him as she waited for his father to back her up.
And then waited some more.
“Admiral Grant, this is no time for your stubborn nature,” she chastised. “Tell him.”
“You look fine,” his father groused through a set jaw. “Like a woman. There’s nothing wrong with the way you look.”
Grace blinked at him, so comically confused, Sawyer actually found himself laughing. “Wow, Dad. ‘You look fine’—nice line. You obviously know a lot more about getting voters to like you than closing the deal with women. Maybe you should use all that time you’ve been burning on my campaign to figure out how to grow a pair and just ask Grace out already.”
“Sawyer, no he doesn’t want to…you’re misunderstanding your father’s intentions. He’s only here because he’s worried about you.”
However, his father’s mutinous silence told Sawyer everything he’d been suspecting was true.
And instead of answering Grace, Sawyer said to his father, “You know not everybody gets to be with the woman they love…”
Silence. Thick as a smoke bomb going off in the room. And Sawyer found himself standing there, fighting off tears for a woman who he barely knew. Who he couldn’t have. Who didn’t feel for him the way he felt for her.
Grace was the first one to speak into the silence. “Sawyer,” she began. “I really do not think…”
But Sawyer couldn’t listen to her make excuses for his father anymore. He set the whiskey down on the sideboard and pinned his father with a hard look. “Stop being a coward, Dad. Either shit or get off the pot with Grace. Either way, I want you out of my house by the time I get back.”
He pushed past the two of them then. Leaving not just the room, but the house.
HE HAD NO IDEA how he ended up at her house.
He was tooling around town on his bike. For what must have been hours. Because the next thing he knew, the sun was setting and he was in front of her humble brick home.
The one that no longer belonged to his family. He looked the house over for the first time in years. Four brick walls with only the most basic windows and a white door to break up the monotony.
It was kind of funny, because his father had fought so hard for this house, but it really wasn’t much to speak of.
Sawyer had no business here. But he didn’t care.
He got off the bike, walking up to the front door with a strong gait. As if even his gimp leg was in complete agreement with what he was about to do.
He had to see this fucker. See the guy Willa still thought was so much better than him after sharing the kind of night they had.
He raised his hand, prepared to bang his fist against the door. But then a thin voice said, “Sawyer Grant? Is that you?” and Marian Thompson opened the door before he could so much as touch his knuckles to the wood.
Tall and even thinner than Willa used be in high school, she peered at him over her reading glasses in the doorway, her eyes wide with owlish surprise.
Over her shoulder, Sawyer could see a room chock full of books. At least ten rows of roughly hewn, homemade bench shelves covered the far wall. Every shelf was filled with books, arranged in long horizontal rows with small columns of more books stacked on top.
The place wasn’t as squalid as he expected. Instead it was just overstuffed with books. In fact, it looked exactly like the kind of front room you’d expect someone called The Crazy Librarian to have.
But Marian honestly looked a little flustered to see him at the door. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “The spirits didn’t tell me you were coming today! Of course, they’re always a little reticent when it comes to you and Willa. I hope you’re ready for a family full of quiet doctors, because that’s what you’ve got coming. Except for our Trevor, of course. But where are my manners, I should get a book for you! Let me see…”
She disappeared to the bookshelf on the back wall and Sawyer’s eyes followed her, his brain tripping to catch up. If that was even possible.
“Ah, thank you but I’ve got plenty of books at home, Ms. Marian.”
“Yes, you do, Sawyer Grant, but this one might provide you some solace in the tumult to come, and it’s not in your collection.”
She handed him a thin red leather bound copy of Charles Dickens A Christmas Carol.
Off his confused look, Marian said, “I know! You’re just as surprised as I was to find out you don’t have that book in your library. I nearly fell off my stool when Kate and I were going through your collection. You’ve got a lot of Dickens, but not this particular one—which is perhaps understandable given your father’s general nature.” She winked at him. “The Admiral could stand a visit from a few ghosts…but I suppose your mother will have to do for now. ”
“Wait a minute,” Sawyer said, holding up the book. “You were in my house? Looking through our books?”
“Yes, but please let your father know I certainly did not steal his Churchill book. First of all, I would never, ever steal a book, though I’m sure my daughters wish I would on occasion instead of buying them like the honest citizen I am. And besides that, I don’t really care for non-fiction myself. I only bought that book because your mother asked me to, and I wanted to endear her to Trevor. Speaking of which, he’s been waiting for you, dear boy.”
Sawyer eyes went to the side, because he had no idea why someone as crazy as Marian would claim her special-needs son had been waiting for him.
“Why would Trevor be waiting for me?” he asked.
14
Thel had said it would only take a minute or two when Willa dropped her outside a seedy pawn shop in Washington D.C.
But those couple of minutes had turned into twenty, and Willa had to roll down the window for fear of baking inside the car.
She hoped everything was going okay in there. She still didn’t understand why Thel hadn’t allowed her to come in with her. She didn’t know the Washington Highlands area of D.C. very well, it being nearly three hours away from where they currently lived, but judging from the heavy set bars across all the shop windows, it maybe wasn’t the best neighborhood to do business in. However, Thel had called her this morning, insisting they drive all the way to D.C. and back today, because there was a man here who’d agreed to give her cold, hard cash in exchange for what she was selling to re-fund the account their mother had cleared out.
God, what a mess.
The situation transported her right back to Germany. Four weeks after Sawyer’s spirit had been sucked back into his body. Waiting and waiting for a call from her med school in Alabama, only to receive it as she was getting off the U-Bahn in Sembach…
“I’M NOT UNDERSTANDING this email you sent me,” the Financial Aid director said, piping Alabama right into the German scenery with her heavy Southern accent . “Did you find God all the way over there in Germany, Ms. Harper?”
“No…I’m a believer already.” It was kind of hard not to believe in a higher power after seeing your brother get sucked through a portal into another life. But in this case, “That’s not why I’m asking for this transfer.”
“Then why in all heaven would you want to give up a very prestigious fellowsh
ip in order to do a year at an evangelical university?”
Because that university had the osteopathic med school located closest to Walter Reed, where The Admiral’s people had whisked Sawyer away to three weeks ago, just a few days after he woke up.
Meanwhile, Willa had been unraveling for nearly a month now. Plagued by dreams of Sawyer asking her to be there when he woke. But not only had Delores not let her anywhere near Sawyer after he’d come out of his coma, like a Christmas miracle in August, she’d also refused to divulge any further information about his case.
“If I’d known his father would create such a big stink, I wouldn’t have taken you to see him that first time. Admiral’s orders. Only necessary personnel are allowed anywhere near his son, and we’re not allowed to talk about his case to anyone outside his official team.”
So in a fit of desperation, Willa had contacted her med school back in Alabama and asked if they could help her out.
“I’m homesick,” she explained, feeding the woman on the other side of the line her carefully prepared story. “And I think a year at a place closer to my hometown will help me out with that.”
“You’re homesick, so instead of coming back here to Alabama, you want to burn the folks who gave you this highly-competitive fellowship in order to go to some school in Virginia? And on top of that, you want to take our scholarship money with you?” the financial aid officer asked.
Well, yes, technically that was what she wanted. But the way the Financial Aid lady broke it down didn’t make her feel too good about her chances of getting it.
“So is that a no?” she asked as she walked up the stairs to her one bedroom apartment.
“Actually, that would be a hell no, Ms. Harper. We’ll be seeing you in August next year after you’ve made us proud by completing this fellowship with flying colors. Goodbye now.”
The Financial Aid officer hung up.
Willa would have called her back, tried again to restate her case for why they had to let her transfer to Liberty University, but then a sight stopped her dead in her tracks.
It was Thel, the sister she hadn’t seen in almost five years.
However, she no longer looked liked the down-home county girl Willa had grown up with. Her hair was gathered in a smooth up-twist, and she wore a gorgeous yellow taffeta dress with a perfectly pleated skirt. She looked, in a word, “classy.” Like she’d just stepped out of a Dianne Carroll film from the sixties. She was also about twenty pounds thinner than when Willa had seen her last.
Willa had imagined many scenarios for her sister after she’d run from home. Many of which had kept her up at night and made her even more determined to finish her degree. She’d been driven to find a well-paying job so she could finally be able to afford a detective to search for Thel, since her mother refused to tell her where she was, claiming, “She’s living out her story before she comes home, and we’re not in these chapters.”
However, none of those imagined scenarios had involved Thel showing up at her apartment, looking like 1,000 bucks lying on top of a yacht made of diamonds. The only thing common about her now was the manila envelope she held in her hands, and even that turned out not to belong to her.
“You got a package,” she said, holding up the envelope.
“Thel?” she said, actually wondering for a minute if this was her sister and not some vision who, for whatever reason, wanted to make sure she got her delivery.
But Thel nodded in answer to her question. “Yeah, it’s me, Willa. Though nobody’s called me Thel in years.”
This was the least surprising thing about Thel showing up out of the blue so far. Her sister had always hated her name: Thelxiope—one of the Siren sisters from The Odyssey. Nobody could ever spell it. Much less pronounce it. And she’d always said she’d change it if she ever left Greenlee.
“So I guess you changed your name.”
Another nod. This one accompanied by a tremulous smile. “Yeah, yeah I did. But I’m ready to change it back now.”
Willa shook her head, not knowing what to say other than the obvious. “Why?”
“Because I’m sick,” Thel answered, her voice simple with fear. “I got cancer, really bad. And I’m ready to be done pretending to be somebody I ain’t.”
“Okay,” Willa said. “What can I do to help?”
To her shock, Thel burst into tears.
Willa gathered her in her arms, surprised at the outburst. The Thel she’d known had been so strong. She’d never even seen her cry until Trevor passed.
But her hug only seemed to make Thel cry harder. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” she said, as her little sister’s shoulder became wetter and wetter with her tears. “I ain’t used to being nurtured no more. Or having somebody say they’ll help me without a devil’s deal being involved.”
“I’m not ‘somebody.’ I’m your sister, Thel,” Willa answered, holding her tight. “And whatever it is, we’ll figure it out. I promise.”
“Okay… Okay…” Thel said, taking deep breaths. Calming herself down. Then she said gravely, “Your package...It’s from Marian, care of Amazon DE.”
To anyone else listening in on this conversation, this would have seemed like a strange subject to introduce before figuring out a plan for your sister who’d just found out she had cancer.
But it was their mother, so Willa took the package, only half-joking when she asked, “So what do you think it is? ‘How to navigate the German medical system?’”
“’Homeopathic Cures for Breast Cancer?’” Thel deftly inserted.
“’Nursing Your Loved One with a Day Job?’” Willa just as deftly replied.
They both laughed at that one, easily falling back into one of their oldest, saddest routines from growing up with The Crazy Librarian.
However Willa stopped laughing, her heart completely dropping into her stomach, when she saw the title on the book she pulled out of the envelope…
What to Expect When You’re Expecting
SIX YEARS LATER, Willa’s heart gave another jolt when her sister got into the car. Slamming the passenger door closed on her side.
Willa dragged her thoughts back from Germany in order to look over at Thel, who was now pulling the seatbelt across her ample breasts with a hard yank.
“Everything okay?” Willa asked.
Thel clicked the seat belt closed. “I got the money.” She opened her huge satchel purse to reveal it was completely filled with several stacks of twenty dollar bills. “But I’m glad we’re all packed, because you’re right. We really do need to get out of here.”
Willa couldn’t agree more, but quite a few questions were piling up in her head. Including what exactly her sister sold that garnered her that much money? There had to be at least ten stacks in her purse, maybe fifteen.
“Thel,” she had to ask then. “Are you in some kind of trouble? Did getting this money put you in some kind of danger? Because if that’s the case—”
“It’s fine,” Thel cut her off, her voice weary. “You know I’d do anything for you and Trevor. It’s fine.”
But it didn’t feel fine, and as Willa drove home, she determined that as soon as they were out of Greenlee County, she was going to finally make Thel tell her what had brought her to her door in Germany six years ago—other than the cancer.
Because, yes, she’d had cancer, and yes, she needed Willa’s help on her long road to recovery. But it had felt back then, and still felt now, like she’d been running away from something.
Something that couldn’t touch her in Greenlee. At least not until now when she’d sold something from God knew where for a whole bunch of money. All for her sister’s sake.
Guilt gnawed at Willa’s gut on the long drive home.
And as they pulled around the bend that led to their small house, she said to her sister, “I think we need to have a talk about how you got this money tonight after Trevor goes to bed.”
“No, we don’t,” Thel answered. But she stayed hunched over her purse. Li
ke someone who’d just bargained away her soul.
“Yeah, I think we do,” Willa insisted. “So please don’t make me ask Marian.”
Marian, the one who knew all their secrets, but sometimes could be counted on to keep them. And sometimes couldn’t.
“There’s nothing to talk about. I told you, it’s fine—”
Thel broke off, her sultry eyes narrowing on something in the distance. “Is that…? Is that Sawyer Grant’s motorcycle outside our house?”
Willa followed her gaze to the shiny Harley standing outside their brick house. Just a few feet from the front door.
No!
No! No! No! Willa thought. It couldn’t be. Not now. Not with them having gotten Trevor from the center early and dropped him off to stay with Marian while they went to D.C. Not with nothing but her crazy mother standing between Sawyer and the boy he was never meant to know.
The car’s tires screeched as Willa pulled off to the side of the road and pushed out of the car. She raced toward the house at a full on run, determined to keep what happened in the past. Where it belonged.
“I DON’T UNDERSTAND,” Sawyer said to Ms. Marian, now kicking himself for knocking on her door. He should have waited on his bike for Willa to come home and gotten answers from her about her boyfriend—husband—whatever he was to her…
Now he was remembering about one minute too late why everyone in Greenlee County referred to Ms. Marian as “the crazy librarian.” Even though she’d never worked at a library a day in her life.
“I’m not sure who you think I am—”
“You’re that Sawyer Grant from across the way. Believe me, I was just as surprised when the spirits told me about the goings on between you and my daughter six years ago as everyone else around here will be, including you. I didn’t think our two families would ever have much left to say to each other after that court case. But if my dear Trevor is the result of that union, I say, let bygones be bygones.”
Sawyer tilted his head. Wow, the years really hadn’t been kind to this poor lady. If anything, she’d only gotten crazier than he remembered from the days when she used to hand out books to baffled white people all over town, claiming her spirits told her to.
His Everlasting Love: 50 Loving States, Virginia Page 11
