For the Save (Playing for Keeps #4) (12 page)

Sawyer

“Toss me another piece of pizza, son.” Dad held out his empty paper plate splattered with grease stains.

I dipped my hand into the pizza box sitting on the coffee table and plopped a piece onto Dad’s plate.

“Thanks.” He returned the plate to his lap and leaned back in the recliner. I took a large bite of pizza, hot cheese dribbling down my chin. After wiping it up with my napkin, I nestled into the couch and stared at the television.

Mom would never allow us to eat in the family room while watching TV if she was home. But it was Monday night, and she was at book club. Mom had been in this club for several years. So one Monday night a month Dad and I had the place to ourselves. We always ordered pizza and watched ESPN until Mom came home.

“How are things with Addison?” Dad asked, taking a long pull of his beer bottle. My parents hadn’t met Addie yet, but I’d told them about her.

“Good.” Hoping he’d let it drop, I reached for the two liter of soda and chugged it.

Dad shook his head, but didn’t reprimand me. It’s not like anyone else was going to drink it anyway. Mom and Dad didn’t drink soda. Dad was too busy getting all his calories through beer, and Mom was a complete health nut. If it wasn’t organic, she wanted no part in it.

“Seems like things are getting pretty serious,” he pressed.

I swallowed hard. It’s not that I didn’t like talking to Dad. But I wasn’t really sure what to say. Addie and my relationship seemed to be going well right now, but I’d learned not to trust it. With Addie, anything could set her off. She was like a stray cat – all skittish, ready to pounce away at a moment’s notice. “I don’t know,” I finally said.

“Uh oh. Is there trouble in paradise?” It was a phrase Dad used a lot, and it elicited a tiny chuckle from me.

I shrugged. “No, things are pretty cool with us right now.” Setting the two liter on the coffee table, I lifted my hand to scratch my chin. “But that could change.”

“How so?” Dad’s thick eyebrows furrowed. His fingers played with the edge of his plate.

“Addie’s going through a lot right now with losing her brother and her dad takin’ off. She has a hard time trusting anyone.”

“Including you?”

“I think she trusts me more than anyone,” I said honestly.

“Well, that’s good.” Dad nodded encouragingly.

I breathed in deeply, not answering him.

Detecting my hesitation, Dad leaned forward. “It is good, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” I bobbed my head up and down. “I think so.” I paused, thinking. “It’s just that sometimes with Addie I feel like I’m skating on thin ice, and I never know when I’ll hit a crack and fall right in.”

“She keeps you on your toes, huh, son?” Dad threw me a wink before biting into his pizza. Sauce coated his lips, and he swiftly wiped it away.

I chuckled. “I guess you could say that.”

“Your mom was like that. The keepers always are.”

A grin swept across my face. Addie was a keeper. I was sure of that. I only hoped she wanted to be kept.

“You really like her, huh?” Dad asked after swallowing down his recent bite.

“Yeah. And I know she likes me too. But she’s carrying all this baggage, you know? And I wish I could lighten the load,” I said.

“Have you told her that?”

“Lots of times.”

“And has she told you how you can help her?”

I smiled, remembering how she said I could keep touching and kissing her, but I wasn’t going to share that with Dad. “There are a lot of unanswered questions surrounding her brother’s suicide. I feel like if she got those answers it would help her gain some closure.”

“Do you feel like you’ve gotten closure with what happened with Ryan?” The question surprised me, and it took a moment to recover.

Clearing my throat, I fingered a loose thread on the couch. Cheering and loud noise erupted from the TV, but suddenly I wasn’t so interested in the game. “You sound like Mom,” I joked.

Dad laughed lightly, but didn’t change the subject. He continued to stare at me expectantly. I guess that meant I wasn’t getting out of this conversation.

“I think so. I mean, unlike Addison, I know why Preston did what he did.”

“Does it help?” Dad asked. “To know why he did it?”

“A little. It doesn’t stop the nightmares though,” I blurted out before I could stop myself. Then I backtracked. “Please don’t tell Mom I said that. I told her they’d stopped. I didn’t want to worry her.”

“I won’t say anything.” The corner of Dad’s eyes crinkled in concern. “But I do wish it had been true. Do you think you need to see a therapist or something?”

“No.” I shook my head. “They are getting better. I think I need to give it time.”

“But you think Addison needs more than time?”

“Yeah, I do. It’s more personal for her. I lost my friend. She lost her brother.”

Dad wore a pensive look as he tented his fingers. “Then you should help her find answers.”

“I tried. I found her Dad for her, but she wasn’t ready to talk to him. I’m not sure what else I can do.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out, son. You’re resourceful.” He sat up, resting his back on his chair. “Now let’s talk about your plans for after graduation.”

I groaned. “Can’t we just watch sports?”

Dad laughed. “Okay, I guess we’ve had enough serious talk for one night.”

When Dad returned his attention to the TV, I blew out a sigh of relief. Assisting Addie was one thing. I could do that. Trying to figure out my future was quite another. Right now, that seemed nearly impossible.

Addison

She was crying.

But that was nothing new. It was where she was crying that drew my attention. Slipping out of my room, I scrambled across the hall and peeked my head into Ben’s room. Mom sat in the middle of the room, many of Ben’s things strewn around her. An open box sat near her right knee. In her hand she held his football jersey as tears poured down her face.

A memory flashed in my mind of the first time I saw Ben in his Tigers jersey. He’d been so proud of making the team. The night he made it we all went out to dinner to celebrate. Tears pricked at my eyes, but I blinked them back. After clearing my throat, I stepped into the room. It felt weird to be in here. Like I was trespassing. When Ben was alive, I had to knock first. If I came barging in here, he’d get angry, demand that I knock. Sometimes I’d tease him about it. Other times I did what he said. It depended on his mood. But he wasn’t here to tell me to knock anymore, so I walked right in.

It still smelled like him to me. The faint scent of the cologne he sometimes wore lingered in the air, and it was mixed with BO and dirty socks. Mom used to berate him endlessly about the stench in here. But he was never good at putting his dirty clothes in the wash. It wasn’t uncommon for him to wear the same thing multiple times because he forgot to wash it. Used to drive me nuts. Now I think it wouldn’t be so bad. At least he’d still be here.

“Mom?” I spoke softly, coming up behind her.

She sniffled, and her head bounced up in my direction. Her knuckles were white from how desperate she held onto the jersey. As if she was caught doing something she shouldn’t, she released the shirt, and it fluttered to the ground. It landed on the carpet, our last name staring up at me in block letters.

“You okay?” I asked, although it was sort of a rhetorical question at this point. Surely she wasn’t okay.

She shook her head, frantically swiping at her wet cheeks. “I can’t do this. I can’t box up his things. Whoever buys this house is going to have to do it themselves.”

I would’ve laughed at the irrationality of her statement, except that I was pretty sure she was serious. Mom had put our house on the market last week, and already we’d had people interested. That was why Mom was already packing. It was only a matter of time before we’d have to be out of here. But we couldn’t expect the new homeowners to clean up Ben’s room. Besides, Mom would have regretted it if we got rid of all his stuff. She may not have been ready to go through everything just yet, but it didn’t mean she never would be.

“Mom, you can’t leave Ben’s room for someone else to deal with,” I blurted out what I’d been thinking.

“I know you’re angry with me, but I can’t deal with that right now,” Mom snapped.

Her words made me feel like crap. “I’m not really angry with you. I’m sort of angry at everything right now.”

“Well, you sure direct a lot of that anger towards me. It’s like you blame me for all of it.” Her lips trembled. I remembered Dad’s words to her, and I wondered if maybe she’d been harboring guilt all this time. Perhaps she did believe this was her fault.

“Mom, I don’t blame you. I blame Ben. He did this. I know that.” I paused, knowing it was time to be open with Mom. I’d been shutting her out for too long. Lowering myself to the ground, I sat beside her. Ben’s jersey rubbed against the bottoms of my bare feet. “If I’ve been rude to you at all, I’m sorry. I haven’t been coping well with this. I miss Ben, and I’m angry with him for leaving.” Emotion rose inside of me, and I swallowed it down. “And I’m angry with Dad for taking off. And I guess deep down I’ve been mad at you for selling the house, and for not telling me where Dad was, or even that you’d been in contact with him.” Biting my lip, I played with my hands in my lap. “I feel like I lost everything in the span of one week, and I haven’t known who to trust or who to talk to about it.”

“But I’ve always been here.” Mom’s hand covered mine. “You know you can talk to me about anything.”

I shook my head. “But look at you, Mom. You’re grieving too. How can I expect you to shoulder my grief as well?”

“Oh, honey.” Mom scooted closer to me, touching my face with her free hand. “I’m your mom. It’s my job to shoulder your problems. It’s my job to shield you and protect you and help you. And that’s what I want to do.”

I thought about how Sawyer had said the same thing to me, and it made me sad. Sad for Mom that she didn’t have Dad here to help her. This was the time that she needed support the most, and he took off. Anger towards him resurfaced. But then it was replaced with anger for myself. With Dad gone, I should’ve been more sensitive towards Mom. I shouldn’t have pushed her away so much. Didn’t I do exactly what Dad had done? I wasn’t any better than him.

I glanced around Ben’s room. “I’ll do it,” I said suddenly, knowing how I could make it up to her.

“You’ll do what?” Mom appeared perplexed.

“I’ll box up Ben’s room.”

“Honey, are you sure?”

“Positive.” I forced a brave smile.

Mom hesitated, searching my face. I held the look. “Ookay,” she drug out the word, furrowing her brows. “But if it gets too hard, let me know.”

I nodded. “Sure thing.”

Mom stood, shuddering. “I gotta get outta here.” Then she slipped out of the room, leaving me alone with Ben’s things. Taking a deep breath, I snatched up the jersey. It was silky between my fingers. Images flew through my mind of Ben wearing it out on the field. Abandoning the memories, I folded it and dropped it into the box. Leaning forward, I picked up a baseball trophy. Ben’s name was etched in gold. When my gaze connected with the years engraved on it, I did the math and surmised he must have been around nine when he received it. My stomach clenched as I pictured nine year old Ben, all smiles and giggles and smart-ass remarks. I closed my eyes and breathed in deeply as the memories threatened to overtake me.

My pocket vibrated, and I quickly tossed the trophy in the box. Glancing down, I wiped the moisture out of my eyes and yanked my phone out.

Sawyer: What are you doing?

Me: Boxing up Ben’s stuff.

My fingers paused over the screen. I wanted to appear brave. I wanted him to be proud of me. But more than any of that, I wanted to be real with him. And I wanted him here.

Me: I need you.

I’d barely pressed send when the response came.

Sawyer: On my way.

I smiled at his words. No hesitation. No promise to show up later. No platitudes or kind words. Just a simple ‘on my way.’ And it meant more to me than anything else he could have said.

True to his text, Sawyer showed up almost immediately. I wondered how fast he must have driven to get here so fast. But I was beyond grateful. The minute he stepped into the room, I stood and launched myself into his arms. He held me tightly, kissed the top of my head.

“You came,” I breathed.

“I told you I would.”

My hair fell in my face as I peered up at him. He brushed it out of my eyes. “Thank you.”

“Hey, I told you I’d help you any way I can, and I meant it.” Lowering his head, his lips brushed softly over mine. Once, twice. Each time he’d draw back as if teasing me. I pushed up on my tip toes arching my back. He smiled. “Someone’s eager.”

“Shut up.” Grabbing him by the back of the neck, I firmly drew his head toward mine. As our lips were about to connect, I only lightly touched my lips to his and then pulled away. A grunt sounded at the back of his throat and his head moved forward. I didn’t allow his mouth to find mine. Not yet. His eyes opened, and I cocked an eyebrow. “Not so fun, is it?”

“Actually, it’s kinda hot.” He winked. “I’d let you tease me any day, Addie.”

I loved when he said my name, like I was someone special. Someone to be cherished. And now I wasn’t interested in teasing him or playing games. Bringing his face to mine, I kissed him firmly. I kissed him with purpose. My tongue eased his lips open and tangled with his, while my fingers played with the bottom of his hair. His hands slid up my back and cradled my head as the kiss deepened, as he kissed me with all that he had.

When we separated, I had to breathe deeply to slow down my racing heart. I blinked, the room coming back into focus, the reminder of where we stood harshly staring me in the face. I marveled at how Sawyer’s presence had caused me to forget where I was. How he had the ability to erase everything. With Sawyer I had tunnel vision. I only saw him. Honestly, it was nice. It was like he was my escape. Like he had become my new poetry.

I wanted to lose myself in him again, but I knew I had to do what I’d told my mom I would. She was counting on me to get this room packed up, so I needed to do it.

“You okay?” Sawyer touched a strand of my hair, his eyes crinkling in concern.

“I am now that you’re here,” I said, and he smiled in response. “I told Mom I’d pack up Ben’s room for her. She couldn’t do it.”

“Can you?”

“Not by myself.”

Sawyer spread out his arms. “Well, here I am at your service. Just tell me what to do.”

“Okay.” I glanced down at the box I’d started filling. “This box needs to continue being filled. It looks like it’s Ben’s sports stuff. I’d love for you to finish up that one. It’s tough for me to go through that stuff.”

“Of course.” Sawyer’s hand fell on my arm, gently caressing the bare skin.

“I’ll go grab a couple more boxes and start on his clothes.”

Sawyer stopped me before I could leave the room. “I can do it all if it’s too hard for you.”

I almost took him up on his offer, but instead I shook my head. A part of me wanted to go through Ben’s things. I wasn’t sure why. Perhaps I felt it would give me closure. Or maybe I wanted to feel close to him again. No matter the reason, I knew I had to do this.