Читать книгу Her Second-Chance Family - Holly Jacobs - Страница 13

CHAPTER FOUR

THE NEXT TWO WEEKS, Sawyer made it a point to be home early on Monday afternoons. He rationalized that when you had a convicted thief mowing your lawn, it was probably wise to be present and keep an eye on your house.

But if he was honest with himself, he wanted to see Willow’s guardian again.

Audrey Smith had been on his mind a lot.

The first week, he asked her about composting.

She went into a long discussion about open piles versus closed barrels. He found her enthusiasm for compost amusing, but he was also slightly envious. He couldn’t remember ever being that excited about anything.

As Willow finished mowing the following week, he came out with a glass of ice water and some chips. “They’re organic,” he assured her as he sat beside her on the picnic table bench.

He wasn’t someone who generally paid attention to the very few groceries he bought. But he figured Audrey did, so he’d chosen the organic kind of chips. And he had to admit, they were pretty good.

Willow took one and studied him a moment. “You like her,” she finally said.

He didn’t need to ask who Willow referred to. “She seems like...” He searched for a word and settled on, “An interesting woman. She’s passionate about the things she believes in.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Willow said. There was a slight scoff to her tone, but he heard something else. Maybe pride? “Audrey’s passion for her new work project is why the kids and I had to spend our weekend at an overgrown vacant lot. We couldn’t even mow it because there was so much junk piled up.”

“Junk?” he asked.

“Yeah, the site is downtown. The city owns it. I guess there used to be railroad tracks that went through there. Now that they’ve closed down and the land reverted to the city, they’re donating it to Audrey’s project. It’s wild and overgrown. We filled ten bags with garbage, and hauled away a bunch of bigger items that couldn’t be bagged.”

“Why is it up to you all to clear it?” he asked. “I thought Audrey was the architect.”

“Oh, cleaning up that lot isn’t her job or ours, and she is the architect, but this isn’t a normal project. It’s a volunteer thing. She says that it will pay off in the long run. Mr. Lebowitz—that’s her boss—will get publicity and she’ll be building a legacy. She could have waited for fall so some of the schoolkids could help clean...”

“Schoolkids?” he asked.

As if talking to a young child, Willow explained, “The project’s meant to educate and empower us, whatever that really means.”

“Oh. And Audrey’s...”

“Certified, like I said. She knows environmental rules and policies, so they talked to her, and she wanted the project. Her boss got behind the idea. He’s technically in charge, but he’s staying behind the scenes. It’s really her project. Which means we get to contribute, too, like it or not. Well, when she got the project, you’d have thought she won a gold medal. And Bea and Clinton, too.”

“And how are they related to her?”

“They’re not related at all, either. She’s just our foster mom. No one else could have gotten foster kids so young, but she decided Clinton was meant to be with her, and since he was with Bea in his last placement, Audrey got Bea, too. She’s convinced she can save the world...”

“One compost pile at a time,” he supplied.

Willow laughed. “Yeah. And she’s convinced she can save all the throwaway kids in the world.”

Was that how Willow saw herself? As a throwaway kid?

Audrey and two kids came into the backyard. Bea and Clinton, he guessed.

Willow jumped up, as if she’d been caught slacking. “You’re early.”

“I brought Sawyer a present,” she said. “But first, Sawyer, this is Clinton and Beatrice...”

“Bea,” the young girl corrected.

“Bea,” Audrey confirmed for him. “Guys, this is Mr. Williams.”

Mr. Williams always had him looking for his dad.

“You can call me Sawyer,” he told Audrey’s kids.

The boy—Clinton—had rusty colored hair and freckles. More freckles than Sawyer had ever seen on one face. And the girl had light brown skin, with a long dark brown braid that ran down her back and landed at her hips.

Audrey and the boy went back to the front of the house and returned with a black barrel suspended on a metal rack.

Sawyer looked at Willow, who softly supplied, “Composter.”

“Of course it is,” he whispered back. He knew he was grinning like a schoolkid who just got picked first for the team.

Audrey set the black barrel down in front of him. “You asked about composters last week, so I didn’t think you’d be offended. It’s got a handle and you just give it a turn now and then, add some water, and soon you’ll have compost for all your planting beds. I thought you could put it next to your garbage bin.”

Before he knew it, she set it up and, with the kids’ help, gave him a rundown on how to use it.

He listened and nodded, and couldn’t help but think, What a weird woman. Odd. It wasn’t her composting and environmental principles—hippie chick stuff, as Willow would say. No, he could understand and admire that kind of passion.

It was the rest. He wasn’t sure he knew what to make of a woman who took in foster kids, volunteered for what seemed to be very time-consuming projects and believed in second chances.

Or third chances.

She seemed willing to give of herself with that project at work, but also with the kids she took in and now with him. A virtual stranger.

He wondered when the last time was that he gave something of himself with no expectation of getting something in return.

When Audrey wound down, he was surprised to hear himself asking, “What are you doing for the Fourth?”

Audrey, who always seemed like a whirlwind of movement, stopped a moment. Completely stopped. “The Fourth of July?”

Emphasizing each word, he slowly repeated. “The. Fourth. Of. July. Independence Day. Do you have plans?”

She shook her head. “Not plans per se. I don’t work, so I’ll be spending the day with the kids.”

“I thought I could pay you back for your kindness and the composter by having a picnic here. For you and the kids,” he added.

She was going to say no. He could see it in her expression. She got as far as the word “I...”

He cut her off. “If you say no, I’ll probably just spend the day in my office working.” This was an out-and-out lie. He’d planned to go visit his friend Martin Pennington and his wife, Jan. When Millie left, they’d taken him under their wings. He didn’t find it a comfortable place to be because he hated feeling like an obligation.

“Let me pay back your kindness,” he said. “The kids can go swimming and we’ll picnic.”

Audrey was silent. He thought she was going to politely refuse, but finally she nodded and said, “Only if you let me bring something.”

“Done.”

The kids were helping Willow take her tools to the front.

He hated that she was leaving. Under other circumstances, he might ask her out for lunch, or drinks. Eventually, if that went well, dinner and a movie, or a show. He’d take it slow and play it cool.

With Audrey, cool didn’t seem to apply. Not at all.

She turned to follow after the kids, but he said, “Listen, I went down to Miller Brothers and ordered a lawn mower. It will be here next week, so you won’t have to haul yours back and forth anymore.”

Audrey stopped, turned around and looked at him. For a moment, Sawyer felt like an open book. As if she could see everything about him. Then she smiled, obviously happy with whatever she’d seen. “You are a very nice man, Sawyer Williams.”

“It’s nothing to do with nice. It just seemed silly to make you haul your lawn mower over here every week.”

“I maintain that you are nice, but I’ll let you keep your illusion that you’re not. And thank you.” She turned and headed toward the front of the house.

He followed her. The kids were busy loading stuff in the car.

“And thank you again for giving Willow a chance.”

Sawyer looked at Audrey. “May I ask why you took in a kid who’s only a dozen years younger than you and has a record?”

She turned to him and her brown eyes met his. He noticed there were gold flecks in them. “Because no one else would.”

He waited to see if she was going to add anything else, but it became apparent she wasn’t. “There’s more to it than that. You’re young. Why saddle yourself with three kids?” Throwaways, Willow had said.

“Because when I was young, I was just like them. Moved from family to family, from home to home, but none of the places I lived was my home—my family. I had two friends back then. They cared. And that made all the difference. I never got a home, but I’ve given those three kids one. It’s not traditional family, and you’re right, I’m young. But no kid in the foster system is looking for a perfect family...they just want someone to belong to. Someplace to call home. I try to do that for these three.”

“But how did you get started?” he asked.

“That is a long story.”

He was about to say he could manage long when she added, “Too long for today.” She looked away from him, her attention back on the kids.

“Come on, Aud,” Clinton called.

It took Sawyer a second to realize the boy had called her Aud, not Odd. He might not know Audrey very well yet, but he knew she was odd—in a very good way. Not many people her age took on the responsibility of three kids, one of whom had a checkered past.

“What time would you like us to come over on Saturday?” Audrey asked as she started toward the car.

“How about noon?”

“That sounds great.”

“Have the kids bring their suits,” he reminded her.

Audrey nodded. “See you then.” With that, she got in the car with the kids and backed out of his driveway. With other women, even his ex, Millie, he’d had playing it cool down to a science. He did enough, but not too much. He called, but not too often. Now as he stood staring down the road long after she’d disappeared, he realized he was anxious to see Audrey.

Saturday couldn’t come soon enough.

* * *

“SO, WHAT DO you think?” Audrey asked Willow as she drove toward home. Bea and Clinton were in the back playing some game on the iPad.

She was really directing the question to herself. What did she think about Sawyer Williams?

“About what?” Willow asked.

“About Sawyer.” He was a handsome man, but that didn’t count much in Audrey’s book. Sure, she noticed, but more than that she’d noticed he was kind. He’d gone out and bought a lawn mower so they wouldn’t have to haul hers back and forth.

And he’d given Willow a chance. A lot of men wouldn’t have. That was kind.

She didn’t say any of that. Instead, she said, “I’ve noticed he’s been around on the afternoons you mow.”

Willow snorted. “Yeah, I think that’s a case of self-preservation. He’s probably afraid I’m going to break in again.”

“If that was true, I don’t think he’d come down and help you clean up.”

Audrey was watching the road, but she caught Willow’s shrug.

“He seems okay for an old guy,” she admitted grudgingly. “And he’s been pretty decent to me, despite the fact I broke into his house.”

“Not just you. You and someone else.”

Willow hadn’t ever admitted anyone was with her. But her caseworker said that Sawyer had heard voices. Plural.

Willow didn’t respond. Not that Audrey expected her to. She kept hoping Willow would confide in her, but she reminded herself that she couldn’t push. “Sawyer’s invited us to his place for a picnic on the Fourth.”

“I was thinking about going down to the bay to watch fireworks with some friends.” Willow’s tone said more than her words. She didn’t want to spend the day at Sawyer’s. Or maybe she didn’t want to spend the day with Audrey and the kids.

Or maybe she was a sixteen-year-old who simply wanted to spend time with friends.

As much as Audrey worried about Willow’s friends, wondering if they were the kids Willow was protecting, she knew she had to trust her.

Her job as guardian was to give Willow rules and guidelines, and then trust that she would act wisely. Well, as wisely as any sixteen-year-old ever acted. “I think we can manage both. I was planning on all of us driving down to the bayfront for the fireworks. We’re going over to Sawyer’s place around noon, so there will be plenty of time after.”

She could almost feel the air shift around Willow’s shrug. “Guess you’ve made up your mind.”

“You can meet up with your friends when we get downtown,” Audrey offered.

For a moment she thought Willow was going to argue, but instead the girl simply said, “Okay.”

“Who’re you meeting?” she asked as nonchalantly as she could manage.

“Just some friends.”

Audrey fought back her frustration. Patience, she reminded herself. Time and patience.

“So we gotta go back there on Saturday?” Clinton asked from the backseat.

“For a picnic. Sawyer said bring your swimsuits.”

Bea started shrieking. Audrey glanced back and saw Clinton smile indulgently at Bea. And though Willow didn’t say anything, there was a hint of a smile on her face.

Audrey had to admit she felt excited about the prospect of seeing Sawyer on Saturday. She tried to tell herself it was merely because the kids would have fun swimming, but she suspected she was lying to herself.

* * *

MAGGIE MAY WAS at Audrey’s front door promptly at seven-thirty the next morning. She had on the tie-dyed oven mitts Clinton and Bea had bought her last Christmas. Those mitts gripped a cake tin of cinnamon rolls, Maggie May’s specialty.

“What’s the occasion?” Audrey asked as she let her in.

“I woke up at five and couldn’t go back to sleep, so I decided to put my time to good use.” She walked into the kitchen as she had so many times over the years. “They talk about all kinds of age-related issues, but they don’t warn you about the sleep problems. I’m up before the crack of dawn each day, but if I sit for more than a minute during the day, I nod off. Getting old ain’t for the faint of heart,” she said with a chuckle as she pulled a trivet from the drawer and set the pan on it.

She turned and looked at Audrey. “Have a roll before you go, and take one to your boss, too. That man looks as if a stiff breeze could blow him away.”

Neither Mr. Lebowitz nor Maggie May had any family to mention so they both spent holidays with Audrey and the kids.

There was a look in Maggie’s eyes that had Audrey wondering all over again... Mr. Lebowitz and Maggie?

She had to admit there was some merit in the idea. She wondered when she could get them together again without seeming obvious.

She laughed. She’d never managed to make a relationship work for herself, so why on earth did she imagine she could help other people hook up?

“Mr. Lebowitz will be thrilled. No one makes a better cinnamon roll than you do,” she said.

Maggie puffed up a bit. “Well, that’s sweet of you to say. Now where are the kids?”

“Still in bed.”

Maggie May shook her head. “That kind of sleep is wasted on the young. They don’t appreciate it. To be honest, a lot of things are wasted on the young. You all are always in such a hurry to make your mark and get to this or that. Sometimes you need to slow down and smell...”

Audrey interrupted. “The cinnamon rolls.”

Maggie chuckled and got out one of Audrey’s storage containers, popped a couple rolls in it and said, “Now see to it your boss eats one of these.”

“I will,” Audrey promised.

“Have a good day,” Maggie said. “I think the kids and I are going to go spend the day at the pool.”

Audrey bought a membership to a local pool every summer. Bea especially loved the water. She was going to have a blast on Saturday.

“Have a good day, Audrey,” Maggie said.

“You, too.”

“Oh, I will. I’ve got a new JoAnn Ross book. I plan to curl up under an umbrella and have at it.”

Maggie was a bookworm. “Tell the kids I’ll call at lunch.”

“I will. But we’ll be fine. Shoo.”

It was a ten-minute drive from her home in Wesleyville to work in downtown Erie.

Abe Lebowitz had opened his firm in a historic brick storefront on West Fifth Street. Audrey loved that from the office she could walk down to the dock or to Erie’s Perry Square, a two-block downtown park.

Today, as she went inside, she took a moment to study the photos in the public reception room, pictures of homes Mr. Lebowitz had helped design or remodel. Someday Audrey hoped to have such a body of work behind her. Though she’d taken on a few projects that she ran point on and Mr. Lebotwitz simply supervised, the Greenhouse was the first project that she truly felt was her baby. It would be the first picture on her wall.

When she’d graduated, she’d considered applying for a job at a bigger firm in a bigger city. But she knew it would take years before she’d have a chance to really get some hands-on work. And truly, the city of Erie was as close to a home as she could come.

As an intern for Mr. Lebowitz’s one-man business, she’d had a chance to take more active roles in design and meeting with clients. That’s what convinced her that going to work for him was the right move. And she’d made a good choice. She was basically his girl Friday. She did a little bit of everything and felt she had more practical experience than a lot of architects her age.

She glanced at the clock on her phone.

Half an hour before clients—the Castellinis—came in.

She had to get her day started.

As if on cue, Mr. Lebowitz called out, “Audrey, is that you?”

“No, Mr. Lebowitz. It’s someone else entirely.”

“Cheeky girl,” he called, laughter tingeing his voice. “Come in here if you have a moment.”

She left the reception room, headed past her office door and Mr. Lebowitz’s public office to the back room she called his “cave.” He was in a white button-down shirt that was open at the collar and had its sleeves rolled up. He smiled as she walked in.

Audrey set the cinnamon bun in front of him and his smile broadened. “Maggie was baking this morning.”

“She made this from scratch?” he asked, picking up the roll almost with reverence.

“She did,” Audrey informed him. “She said to be sure you ate it because you’re too thin.”

“Other than seeing clearly,” he said, patting his slightly paunchy stomach, “is there anything that woman can’t do?”

“Nothing I know of,” Audrey assured him.

He took a bite and groaned. “Wow.”

“You called me back because you wanted something?” she prompted.

Mr. Lebowitz was lost in a cinnamon brain fog. Audrey watched as he tried to clear his head enough to remember why he’d summoned her.

“Oh, yes.” He dug through a precarious-looking pile of papers and pulled out a neon orange Post-it. Audrey did the ordering for the firm, and chose the brightest sticker notes she could find so they would stand out amid the clutter.

“Marcia James, the mayor’s assistant, and Ms. Wilkins, the educational enrichment coordinator for the school district, set up a tentative meeting for Friday. Marcia asked that you confirm.”

She took the Post-it. “Sure. I can make that work.”

“Great. Now, go get ready for the Castellinis. I’m going to sit back and savor my cinnamon roll. And when you have a minute, could you give me Maggie’s phone number so I can thank her properly?”

Audrey tried to keep the speculation out of her voice as she said, “She’s at my house with the kids today, so you can reach her there.”

“Great. I will.”

And because the matchmaking bug had hit, she added, “You know, you should probably think of a way to reciprocate. Maybe ask her out to dinner some night?”

She left before he could respond.

What was with her? She had romance on her mind, and that wasn’t like her at all. Between the kids, work and now the Greenhouse, her life was full. She didn’t have time to date, which was good because her last attempt had been a disaster.

She’d been held up at a meeting that ran late, and got home just in time for Maggie May to apologize profusely and say she had some stomach bug and couldn’t babysit. It was too late when... What was the guy’s name? Paul. That was it.

He was a nice zoologist. It was too late to call and cancel. She opened the front door just as Bea told her she was feeling sick. He stepped inside and... Bea barfed on his shoes.

She would have thought a guy who dealt with zoo animals on a daily basis could handle a little vomit.

He couldn’t.

That had been right before Willow came to stay with them.

Audrey still got asked out on occasion, but she’d said no the past few months. She was trying to build a connection with Willow and didn’t want to divide her attention.

So why, all of a sudden, was she trying to fix up Mr. Lebowitz and Maggie May?

And why, when she thought about them dating, did she think about dating, as well?

And the biggest question of all... Why was it Sawyer Williams she imagined sitting across a restaurant table from her?

Clutching her orange Post-it note, she hurried into her office.

She had a lot of work to do. Notes to pull together for her clients Marcia and Ms. Wilkins. The Castellini meeting.

She was not going to think about fixing up Mr. Lebowitz and Maggie May.

And more than that, she was not going to think about dating anyone herself.

Especially not Sawyer Williams.