Sincerely,
Ivy
I read the letter for the third time while sitting at the kitchen table eating breakfast. Why did she have to be so sweet? It was easier when I could pretend she was annoying and in my way. But when she was kind? I felt like a horrible human being.
Dad used to say that cognitive dissonance was the mental stress of holding two contradictory attitudes or beliefs. And that was exactly what I experienced at the moment.
On the one hand, I knew as a Christian I was supposed to be considerate and loving, even when circumstances made it hard. Mom called it the Philippians 2:3 principle: put the interests of others above your own.
I’d lived in my own bubble these past few years, keeping to myself and only interacting with a handful of people. No one bothered me, and I in turn, left everyone else alone.
Ivy intruded on that bubble in the worst way.
Even so, a part of me—against my better judgment—wanted to get to know her. The broken part, wanted to keep far, far away from her.
I hadn’t made things easy on her.
And my conscience hounded me like a pesky, buzzing fly, a constant reminder I’d been a jerk. And worse than that at times.
But this unrelieved sadness wrapped around my heart like an anaconda, and if I let her in, if I let her be my friend . . . a lot could go wrong. I’d hate myself if I failed her, just like I failed Zach.
I was at an impasse: Put my concerns aside and practice Philippians 2:3, or keep her at arm’s distance. The only way I knew to push her away was to be grumpy and ill-mannered. Even being the slightest bit nice caused me to let down my guard. Like yesterday, when we’d played cards, she’d made me forget about everything. Forget I have scars. Forget I’m alone.
That feeling was addictive. Dangerous.
Hayden strolled into the kitchen where I sat with a bowl of oatmeal, and I quickly stashed the letter in my pocket.
“Thought I’d stop by before work to see how you and Ivy are getting along.” His voice was tentative as he leaned against the counter and crossed his arms.
I stirred my oatmeal and avoided eye contact. “We won’t be BFFs anytime soon, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Sawyer,” he said, drawing out my name. “Have you been making an effort to be friendly?”
“Me? I’m always friendly.”
“Sawyer.” Hayden's brows creased in disapproval. “Please try to—”
“Okay, okay. Calm down. I let her entertain me in a game of cards.”
Hayden’s face brightened. “Excellent. I’m glad. Keep making the effort. Ivy’s a nice girl, and I really believe the two of you can be friends.”
“Stop right there.” I held a hand in the air. “We can’t. Not real friends anyway. Not when I pay her to hang out with me.”
He blanched and looked away. He knew it was true. We both did. He straightened and walked over to the cabinet, pulled out a mug and poured himself a cup of coffee. “This arrangement is only a stepping stone. I’m hoping once you get used to spending time with Ivy, you’ll be more comfortable making new friends.”
He could have said the same words to a kindergartner.
“I’m not socially inept. I had lots of friends back in the day. Stop making it sound like I’m some pathetic loser who can't talk to people.”
“I know you had friends, and you were even popular at one time, but things are different now. You pushed every one of your friends away. Friends that wanted to be there for you after the accident. I’m trying to help you restore balance to your life. Your family would want that.” He sipped his coffee, eyes never leaving mine.
“Speaking of families,” I said, changing the subject. “How is the Connor family coping?”
Frustration flickered across his features, but he relented and let it drop, even though the narrowing of his eyes suggested we’d come back to that topic another time. “They’re doing well.” He walked over to the table and sat down. “They wanted to stay local, so I put them up in a nice hotel. With the money I sent them, they were able to buy a new state-of-the-art wheelchair for their son. I also asked our attorney to advise them. They were very grateful, Sawyer. They begged me to tell them who was behind all the help.”
I sat up straighter in my chair. “You didn’t, right?”
“Of course not. You know me better than that. I told them the person behind it prefers to remain anonymous.”
“Good.” Even I heard the strained relief in my voice. If my name was brought into it, the press might get wind, and I wasn’t ready to have people writing or talking about me. I liked my quiet life out of the limelight. Besides, I didn’t assist others for the praise. I helped them because it was the right thing to do, and it was one of the few joys I had left.
“I also contacted Doug James,” Hayden said. “He completed training at our location in Vale and seems to be working out just fine there.”
I nodded in appreciation. Pastor Wright had prayed for Doug at church the same day Ivy visited for the first time. I was glad things had worked out for him. After he asked for prayer, I’d given Hayden’s phone number to Pastor Wright and told him to pass it on to Doug.
“You staying for breakfast?” I asked. “I can whip up some of my cinnamon pancakes.”
Hayden chuckled. “Wish I could, but I’ve got to head into the office. I’m leaving early this evening to pick up Sarah for our anniversary dinner.”
“Today is your anniversary?” Guilt weighed on me for missing something so big in Hayden’s life.
He smiled. “We’ve been married thirty-four years.”
“Wow, that’s a long time.” I made a mental note to send a gift to their home. “Is Sarah working today?”
“No, she was able to trade her shift with one of the other nurses.”
I knew Sarah almost as well as I knew Hayden, though I had seen her far less in the past year. After the accident, she’d been front and center, always offering a listening ear, and before I had a chef, she had often provided meals for me.
Hayden and Sarah moved with me from Colorado when I’d asked Hayden to be my CEO and handle the business. Sarah had left a long-time position as a nurse at a local hospital back in Silverton. She’d taken time off when they relocated to Alabama. Last year, she’d been able to get a job as an E.R. nurse, and it kept her busy. Hayden said she thrived on the fast pace and adrenaline.
I took another spoonful of oatmeal, the scent of melted butter, brown sugar, and raisins wafting together. “I haven't heard how you and Sarah met.” Strange, since I’d known them so long. But it hadn’t come up before, and I’d never thought to ask. I didn’t know if that made me a bad friend or just clueless in the love department.
“She was my college buddy’s sister. In the beginning, I thought she was annoying because she found any excuse to go out with us. Everyone knew she had a crush on me, but I only thought of her as my friend’s little sister.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “Never would have taken you for a heart-breaker.”
He laughed and his eyes glossed over from the memory. “I took Sarah for granted. Then one day she changed. She stopped coming around and distanced herself. I found out from her brother she’d been dating this other guy. It struck me that I cared about her a lot more than I realized. Sometimes a person sneaks up on you, and before you even know it, you realize you don’t want to live without them.”
“So what happened? How did you get her back?”
He chuckled, straightening in the chair, hands linked behind his head. “It’s all about the grand gesture. I showed up at her house with flowers and chocolate and told her I missed her. Asked about the guy. It turned out he was only a friend. I invited her on a date and the rest is history.”
“I’m still trying to picture a young Hayden going after the girl.”
He laughed. “Not much has changed. Now, I’m a much older Hayden still going after the girl. She just happens to be my wife.”
I smiled. “Well, you have a ni
ce time tonight. Give Sarah my love.”
“I will,” he said, eyes glittering. He placed a hand on my shoulder. “One day that’ll happen for you, Sawyer. Maybe not in the same way. But I truly believe you’ll find a woman you don’t want to live without. Just like I did.”
Inwardly, I winced like I’d been kicked in the shins. “Yeah, that’ll be the day.”
“She’ll sneak up on you—”
“Got it. You’re going to be late for work.”
He nodded. “All right. Catch up with you later in the week.” He waved goodbye as he left.
He really had a sense of humor sometimes. Me? Find someone? Hilarious.
***
The ball sailed over the net, and I smacked it hard with my paddle, sending it flying to the other side of the ping pong table. It skimmed the surface and flew past Ivy.
“Score for me.”
“Don’t sound so smug,” she said. “I’m still ahead.”
“I’m being easy on you.”
She ran after the ball, her long hair trailing behind. When she found it, she bounced it in her hand, a small smile on her face. The afternoon sun filtered through the bay windows, illuminating her creamy, flawless skin. She returned to the table and bit down on her lower lip. For the life of me, I couldn’t look away. My eyes were drawn to the pink curve of her plump mouth and I wondered what it would be like to kiss those lips. Would she kiss me back?
The ball whizzed by, bouncing once right in front of me and then off the table. Wait, what just happened?
Ivy snickered. “Are you sure you’ve played this before?”
I blinked, coming to my senses. “You distracted me.”
Her brows knit together. “I did not.”
Oh, but you did.
Her cell dinged. “Hold on one second. I’ve been waiting for a text from my mom.” She crossed the room and rummaged through her purse until she found her phone. When she checked the message, her eyes widened.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
She frowned, staring at the screen. “Yeah . . . fine.”
“You don’t look fine. Is it bad news?”
She pushed the hair out of her face and glanced at me warily. “You don’t want to hear about this. Trust me.”
Walk away, Sawyer. Walk away before it’s too late and you’re drawn in.
I hesitated and ran a hand over my jaw. I shouldn’t have asked the question. Playing cards and ping pong was fine, but opening up about personal issues wouldn’t be a good idea. I didn’t want to go deep with her—needed to keep our relationship strictly business. Still, a part of me wanted to know what changed her mood from light and cheerful to solemn and almost . . . troubled. “Try me.”
She looked skeptical and wrapped her arms around herself in a protective gesture.
“Look,” I said. “I can be a jerk sometimes, but if you need help . . .”
Her smile was pained. “This isn’t from Mom. It’s from my ex-boyfriend, Austin. He said he misses me and wants us to be friends again.”
An unpleasant feeling settled in my gut. She’d spoken about an ex-boyfriend during the interview. “Wait. Is this the same guy who dumped you?”
She nodded. “Actually, he cheated first and then dumped me.”
My lips formed a tight line. He sounded like a real loser. Cheaters got no sympathy from me. Loyalty was a hard thing to find these days. Not that I had a lot of experience with relationships, but I would never two-time a woman.
Plus, what kind of man would let someone like Ivy get away? She hadn’t worked for me long, but I’d seen the type of person she was: kind, smart, and even a little funny at times. She put up with me, and that said a lot. I liked being around her—more than I cared to admit.
I narrowed my eyes. “Do you want to rekindle your friendship with him?”
“No. Actually . . . I’m not sure. Sometimes I think we could be friends again.”
I didn’t like that she wavered. She needed to get rid of this guy. Whoever he was, he didn’t deserve her. “How is that possible?” My brows drew together. “I mean, if that happened to me, there’s no way I’d stay in touch.”
“We don’t communicate, but every once in a while he sends a text.” She looked stricken. “I’ve never responded.”
“You don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to.”
She shrugged. “No, it’s fine. Austin and I won’t be reconciling anytime soon. He’s with Tina now.”
“How do you know they’re still a couple?”
“Oh, they’re together,” she said, bitterness creeping into her voice. “I see the photos they post on Instagram.”
I scowled. “You haven’t blocked him? And you look at the pictures he posts of . . . their dates? Are you crazy?”
Tears welled up in her eyes. My tone had been too harsh, so I stepped closer and softened my expression while keeping a safe distance. “I know you’re not crazy. It’s just—”
“Just what?” she asked.
“It seems like you’re torturing yourself for no good reason. Why put yourself through that?”
“Because I want to know what he sees in her that he doesn’t see in me.” Her voice was strangled, words tumbling out of her mouth as if she was helpless to stop them. “It looks bad, I know. I deleted him from all social media the same day we broke up, but he reached out a couple months later and I didn’t want to appear spiteful. We don’t actually talk to each other. Like I said earlier, he just sends these weird texts occasionally.”
As if realizing she’d said too much, she moved away and stood by the window. She looked out towards the garden, and for a second, I was overcome with warmth for her.
She had absolutely no clue how beautiful she was. But it wasn’t her physical beauty that captured my attention in that moment. She had a sweet spirit—a gentleness about her that was attractive. Not many people would have written someone like me a letter, much less put their heart and soul into it. I’d been rude and surly from the beginning, but she just kept responding with kindness.
We were opposites in a lot of ways, that much was clear. Where I was hard, she was soft. Where I was rough, she was gentle.
I joined her at the window. “He was stupid. He didn’t appreciate what he had.”
She hastily wiped at tears. “Tina’s gorgeous and thin. She’s everything I’m not.”
I reached to touch her arm, then pulled back. “Ivy, you’re valuing appearance more than character. You’re better than that. Stop doubting yourself. Have confidence in who God made you to be. Trust He knew what He was doing when He created you.” Ironically, I struggled to take my own advice on this issue but that was beside the point. “You don’t need to be like Tina. You just need to be you.”
She gazed at me like she couldn’t believe those words were coming out of my mouth.
It surprised me a little, too, but I didn't stop myself. “You’re beautiful, perfect the way you are. I haven't met this Tina, but I know she isn’t a better woman than you. He shouldn’t have let you go.”
Her forehead wrinkled in confusion. “Why are you being nice all of a sudden?”
The question woke me up like a cold splash of water on my face.
Why was I being nice?
It hadn’t been intentional.
And then I felt guilty.
Because why shouldn’t I be agreeable?
I could be a decent person.
When I wanted to be.
There was that cognitive dissonance again.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t usually break down like this. I’m going outside to sit on the porch swing for a while and clear my head.”
I watched her leave, wishing I could take her in my arms and hold her close. But that would be against my no-hugs rule, so I stayed put and didn’t go after her.
I might be torn, but I wasn’t irrational.
Chapter 15
Sawyer
The next day I was in the zone, working out and purposef
ully not giving head space to any thoughts that might provoke an emotional response. Numb was the way to go these days.
I set the dumbbell back on the rack with a clank and chose a heavier weight. My bicep flexed as I breathed in and out with each repetition, following a tempo for time under tension to put enough strain on the muscle.
Ivy walked in, long, wavy hair pulled into a ponytail at the nape of her neck, sea-green eyes falling to my flexed bicep. She stopped dead in her tracks and darted her gaze away from me, face reddening.
“Hey,” I mumbled, continuing the reps.
She looked around the room, gaze everywhere but on me. If I wasn’t mistaken, she was acting a little shy, maybe even cautious. I could be intimidating sometimes, and that’s probably all it was. Ever since the incident in high school when I couldn’t protect Zach, I’d worked hard to bulk up, to play the part of the guy you didn’t mess with.
I felt her gaze on me again, and when I turned to glance at her, she quickly glanced away. The pulse at my neck increased as I took in her flushed cheeks. Was it possible she found me attractive? For a moment, all common sense left as butterflies clenched tight in my stomach.
Putting down the weight, I touched my scars and reality hit like a punch to the gut. My skin—those scars—no one would be drawn to that. Sure, they only took up a slice of my face, but they were there, nonetheless.
“I came a little early today,” she said. “A class got cancelled.”
I shrugged. “No problem. You’re welcome to work-out if you’d like. Or not,” I finished. Judging by her expression, exercise was the last thing she planned on doing.
“Um . . . sure.” The hesitation in her voice was almost funny. She laid down her bag in a corner of the room and plopped down on a rowing machine. “I’ve never tried one of these.”
“You don’t have to join me if you don’t want to.”
“I need the exercise so I might as well.”
After a few minutes of tugging on the cable handlebar, it became clear from the strain on her face she didn't know how to adjust the settings. The poor girl seemed like she was about to combust into flames from the exertion.
The Unwanted Assistant Page 11
