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That’s probably true, but there’s a bite to her tone that wasn’t there a second ago, so I tread carefully. “I’ve spent time with them over the years.”
There’s a sadness in her eyes I don’t think she means for me to see since she lowers her gaze to the ground.
“They aren’t even your family,” she whispers.
She’s not saying anything that isn’t true, but it makes me wince all the same. “It kind of feels like they are. Colt’s been really supportive of me over the years. Sam too. So I visit every time I’m back.”
“Colt supportive? Aren’t you the guy who disliked him on my behalf?” The sadness is suddenly gone, replaced with venom.
“Aren’t you the girl who said he isn’t a bad guy, just unreliable? And that it’s okay to like him as a person?” I remind her gently. When she doesn’t respond I know she won’t argue my point because she can’t. “Besides, he’s changed since then, don’t you think?”
“So you’re an expert on him? That’s why you get to call yourself family?”
Sawyer’s cheeks are flushed with anger, and while that makes her no less beautiful, it does make her almost unrecognizable. The girl I knew never lashed out like this, even to Colt, who probably hurt her the most growing up. Until me. I did this to her.
Because of me she’s got an edge to her that didn’t exist before. A wall designed to keep people out. I guess the wall was always there, at least in the beginning, but it came down during that year we spent together. For me.
I suppose the fact that it’s taken this long to get us in the same place should’ve tipped me off to the fact that the wall was back, higher than ever. I was hoping some part of what we shared as kids would trump whatever hurdles still existed though, and unless I’m completely misinterpreting things, Colt thinks it can.
“I’m no expert on Colt.” I shake my head slowly. “But if you’re right, and he set this up tonight, then it must be important to him that we stop avoiding each other.”
“I’m not avoiding you.” She rubs her temples. “I just don’t want you to be a permanent fixture in my life.”
The sting of that leaves such a painful ache in my chest I have to rub it before I have the strength to speak again. I remind myself that it's the wall talking, not the woman behind it. At least I think it is.
“Sawyer, I get that you’re angry. I get that that’s my fault. What I don’t get is why the most understanding person I know won’t give me a chance to explain. I mean, I watched your dad hurt your feelings over and over again growing up and you forgave him every time, but after eight years you’re still determined to keep me out of your life. Why is that? Why does he get pass after pass, and I don’t?”
“He’s my dad,” she says softly.
“We were in love,” I mimic her tone. “And you said I knew you better than anyone.”
Evidently that’s the wrong thing to say, because her eyes flash with anger. “You did. I told you things about myself I never told anyone else. I gave you pieces of myself that I’ve never shared with another person before or since. So yeah, you knew me better than anyone, which is why you knew how much it hurt that Dad kept picking the game over me. Then you did the same thing. That’s why he gets a pass and you don’t. He didn’t understand he was doing it. You did.”
Shit. I had a feeling she would see it that way, even if that’s not how I intended it.
“I didn’t pick the game over you. I chose to give us a chance later on instead of ruining it before it got started. I chose…”
“Got it,” Alex shouts as he runs up to me with the football. “Ready?”
“Almost. Just give me another second with…”
“Why are you crying?” he asks Sawyer.
“I’m not. My eyes are watering.” She sniffs.
“Why?” he asks.
“Allergies.” She turns for the house.
“Sawyer,” I call.
“Go with Alex.” she picks up Emmy and turns to the house. She doesn’t look back as she carries her sister inside.
I take the football and turn it over in my hand as Alex scrambles into the yard. Playing catch is usually therapeutic, but right now I’d like to launch this ball so far that I can’t see where it lands. Instead, I carefully lob it to Alex, wondering if I’ll ever again feel as happy as he looks right now.
Sawyer
“Howdidtheinterviewgo?” Mom asks as we sit down to lunch.
