We’ve kept in contact by texting occasionally, but we haven’t seen each other since he left my house Sunday morning.
I certainly have thought about him — a lot. Especially at night, when I want to open up my box of toys but then remember I can’t.
No toys, no fingers, nothing if I’m not here with you.
Even now, I shiver slightly, remembering the growl of his voice when he said that.
The honk from the car behind me startles me, and I realize Cooper is still talking.
“I never got to show him that I remember the handshake. Please, Mom? Please?”
Making a split-second decision, I turn the corner, into the parking lot next to the station. “Okay, but if he’s busy, we stay out of his way and leave, got it?”
“Got it!” Coop’s bouncing in his seat but waiting for me to turn off the engine before opening his door. I take advantage of him remembering our rule for a minute as I check myself in the tiny rearview mirror. Not that there’s anything I can do about my appearance, but hey, can’t blame a girl for trying.
“Mom, let’s go!” Coop sounds impatient, and I don’t blame him… Sawyer’s got a magnetic pull to him. I noticed it the night we first met, and every time since. Something just draws me to him. And my son, apparently. I turn off the engine and Cooper’s unbuckled instantly, opening his door, clambering out, and shifting from one foot to the other as I slowly get out.
As soon as I lock the car, he grabs my hand and starts dragging me across the parking lot. His enthusiasm is cute, but also a little concerning to my mama bear heart. Can Sawyer live up to the hero worship currently written all over Cooper’s face? I silently pray that he can, because my kid has been disappointed by men in his life too many times. Okay, mostly by one man in particular, but of anyone, his father should have been someone Coop could count on, and he most definitely cannot.
When I asked Cooper how the weekend of his father’s wedding went, all I got was a shrug and “it was fun to hang out with Nana and Pops.” Not a single mention of his sperm donor, the wedding, or anything else. The therapist I used to see said I shouldn’t push him to talk too much about his dad, I should follow his lead and focus more on making sure he sees me as a safe space to talk about anything. Which is why I’ve never said a disparaging thing about Tim in front of Cooper. The man might be a waste of space, and not deserve a second of my kid’s time, but he is his father. And I never wanted to close the door on that relationship. Not until Cooper’s old enough to decide for himself.
All of which makes me acutely aware that Sawyer has no clue the impact he had on my son with just that one interaction at the school. But I know. Sawyer made him feel seen, special, and important. Even though they only spoke for a few minutes, he did more in that time than Cooper’s father had in years.
And now, as I watch Cooper speed over to where Sawyer and a few other firefighters are standing around with buckets and brushes, making it clear they’re about to clean the trucks, I have to fight away the ache in my chest that wishes things were different between Sawyer and me.
Thankfully, the second Sawyer turns around and sees Cooper, his face lights up. I watch carefully as I approach them, and see Sawyer drop into a squat and hold his hand out. Cooper obviously knows what’s going on, because their hands start to move in some intricate handshake that has my kid laughing delightedly as Sawyer grins back.
I reach them just as Sawyer straightens up, his eyes landing on mine and flashing with something intense that makes me gulp.
“Well, hi there. This is a nice surprise, what brings you here?” He winks and my goddamn knees quiver.
“I wanted to show you I remember the handshake. I kept asking Mom to bring me here but she was always busy writing her kissing books,” Cooper answers helpfully.
I can see Sawyer fighting back a laugh as he lifts his hand for a high five. “I’m impressed, Coopzilla, you’ve got a great memory.”
“Coopzilla?” Cooper tilts his head to the side, confused.
Sawyer just shrugs. “I give everyone nicknames. And your shirt inspired me.” He gestures to the image of Godzilla on Cooper’s T-shirt.
Cooper beams. “I love Godzilla. Mom won’t watch the movies with me, but my grandpa and I have seen three of them.”
“Dude, I love Godzilla! Oh man, he’s the best monster.”
The look on Cooper’s face is pure amazement, and I know I’m never going to hear the end of this. If Sawyer was trying to cement his place as Coop’s favourite person, he just succeeded.
“Can I see the fire truck?” Cooper asks, already starting to move toward the giant red engine, and I put my hand on his shoulder to hold him back.
“Hold on, kiddo, remember we said if Sawyer’s busy we won’t stay. Maybe you need to ask if he even has time for us to be here. We don’t want to distract him.”
But Sawyer’s grabbing Cooper’s hand and leading him over to the truck. “Nah, it’s cool. If the alarm goes, we’ll have to move fast, but right now is good.” He looks over his shoulder at me and winks. “We can even spray the hose if your mom doesn’t mind getting a little wet.”
My cheeks flush. Good thing Coop’s attention is solely focused on the fire truck. I stand back and let them have their moment, taking a few photos when Sawyer lets Cooper sit in the front seat and turn on the lights and sirens for a second or two. My heart is brimming with happiness, but it’s tinged with worry.
I don’t know exactly how to classify whatever is going on between Sawyer and me. But I know it’s meant to be casual. Yet, the way my son is looking up at him, as if he hung the moon, I worry Sawyer’s getting tangled up in my life.
“Do you ever get scared when you have to fight a fire?” Cooper asks, taking Sawyer’s outstretched hand to help him climb down from the cab of the truck.
Once again, Sawyer surprises me, because instead of dismissing the question with some sort of cocky attitude, he adopts a serious expression and squats down again so he’s at Cooper’s level. “You bet I do. Fires can be really scary because they can be super unpredictable. You never really know what’s gonna happen when you go to fight a fire. But I’ve got a great team with me, and we’re all highly trained. We trust each other and our equipment. I get scared, but I also know I’ve got a really important job to do. And that helps me face my fear.”
