Chapter Twenty- Five
Crazy Girl by The Eli Young Band woke me up from a very good dream. Stretching, I felt Sawyer’s arms tighten around me. “Crazy girl, don’t you know that I love you?” kept playing and I turned to look up at Sawyer who was reaching for my phone.
“Why is my phone turned on and why is it singing a country song?’ I asked groggily as he looked at the screen and then dropped his gaze to mine.
“It’s your mom. Talk to her or she’ll worry.”
I gaped at him, “My mom? But—”
“I got your phone out of your bag last night and turned it on. Finding you had my adrenaline pumping so calming down was hard to do. I changed your ringtone to the song that makes me think about you.” He lowered his mouth to mine and sang, “Have I told you lately, I love you like crazy, girl?” along with my ringing phone. I couldn’t get mad at him while he was doing something like that. Early-morning-singing-Sawyer was just too freaking sweet. Even if he’d made it possible for my mom to call me.
Sighing, I took the phone from him and answered, “Hi mom.”
“Oh, Lana, you’ve turned your phone back on. I’m so glad. Does this mean you’re going to come home? I’m so ready to see you.”
“No, I’m not coming home. Not yet anyway.” I met Sawyer’s gaze and wondered what I was going to do. I wasn’t sure I’d be welcomed back at Aunt Sarah’s after I’d run off like that. “I don’t really know what I’m going to do next.”
“Why are you doing this? Is it still about Sawyer? I can tell you that—”
“Mom, it isn’t about Sawyer,” I replied, reaching up and running my hand through his messy hair. “He’s perfect. I just don’t really know yet how I’m going to finish my summer.”
Sawyer frowned and his arms tightened around me like I was going to vanish into thin air.
“Wait, did you just say Sawyer was perfect? I thought you were mad at him. I mean, I agree with you he is a lovely young man. We’ve spoken a lot over the past two weeks and I think he really loves you. The boy has been so upset. He calls me all the time to see if I’ve heard from you. Even though every time you called I called him right away and told him what you said and that you were fine. Oh no. I didn’t mean to tell you that. Don’t be mad at me, honey. He was just so worried.”
I smirked up at him, “He can be pretty persuasive. I understand.”
“He’s a very good catch, Lana. Wealthy family and going to Florida for college too. I was so surprised when he told me he had gotten a scholarship there for football. That’s perfect.”
“No, Mom it isn’t. Dad isn’t going to be able to help out.” Saying that never got easier.
“Nonsense. Yes, he is going to help. The alimony he gives me every month will more than pay for it. Besides, I’m selling the house and downsizing. It’s too much house for just me.”
“Mom, no, you love the house and I don’t think you understand how much it’ll cost with books and living expenses—”
“I’m not an idiot, Lana. I checked into all of that while you’ve been gone. You’re still getting mail and I had to pay a few more fees and get the first quarter paid for. I’ve held off buying things for your dorm room until you come home to help me.”
“Lana, what’s wrong?” Sawyer sat up quickly and pulled me up in his arms.
“Is that Sawyer? Are you back in Grove?” my mother asked, as I patted Sawyer’s chest to silently calm him down. I’d teared up listening to my mother and he’d gone into panic mode.
“Yes, that’s Sawyer. He, uh, found me last night,” I replied into the phone while smiling at Sawyer who was watching me carefully with frown lines between his eyebrows.
“Found you? Where are you? How did he find you?”
“I’ve been with Jewel all along. She covered for me and honestly, I have no idea how he found me, unless...,” I paused before I finished that thought. I didn’t want to have to explain this all to my mother and she would want to know. I was pretty sure who’d ratted me out. Ethan was the only one in Grove who knew where I had gone.
“Listen Mom, I’ll call you later. I’ve got to figure some things out today but I’ll be sure to let you know. Let me talk to Sawyer, okay, and thank you, I love you.”
“I love you too, Lana.”
I disconnected and laid my phone down beside me before crawling over on top of him. “So, how’d you get my whereabouts out of Ethan? And is he still alive?”
Sawyer chuckled and shifted me so I was straddling him. “Yes, he’s still breathing. Actually, I left him completely unharmed. I ran out of there so fast once I had your location, I didn’t even say goodbye.”
“Good, now tell me how you got it out of him,” I replied, running my hands up his bare chest. I’d missed touching him.
“He just told me,” he said in a husky whisper. His attention was focused on my hands as I traced circles around his very firm pecs.
“The guilt got to him, I guess,” I murmured before leaning down to press a kiss to the bruise just over his ribs. “Did those big mean football players hurt you?” I cooed, raining a trail of kisses across his abs and back up his chest.
“Uh huh, I can show you a lot of other places they hurt me too,” he sighed, running his hands down my back to cup my butt.
“Mmmmkay, just let me finish kissing these booboos and I’ll get to the other ones next,” I cooed.
“Please, take your time,” he groaned, slipping his hands inside my panties.
“You still haven’t answered me about how you got my hideout location from Ethan,” I reminded him as I slid down his body so I could kiss just below his belly-button.
“Gaaah, baby,” he arched into me then took a ragged breath, “who’s Ethan?” he asked in a low deep voice.
I lifted my eyes to meet his fascinated gaze. “You remember Ethan. Your friend who told on me,” I reminded before I licked gently at the skin right above his boxers.
“Oh, fuuuuuck,” he moaned, tangling his hands in my hair.
I decided to let the Ethan thing go. I was having too much fun watching the guy I loved come apart in my arms. Slipping a finger into the top of his boxers, I leaned forward and whispered in his ear. “Any booboos down there I need to pay attention to?”
“Oh yeah, lots and lots,” he croaked out.
Sawyer
“Dad,” I called out in way of a greeting as I knocked once on his office door and stepped inside. My dad was sitting behind the large mahogany desk that he’d had shipped over from somewhere he and mom had visited. I didn’t remember the details.
“Sawyer,” he replied, looking up from the paperwork on his desk. “How was practice?”
“Good. I’m going to learn a lot this year. Being red shirted was a smart move.”
Dad nodded in agreement.
“Beau had a good week too. They’re starting him on the offensive line.” It drove me nuts that he never asked about his other son. The one he’d ignored. The one he never claimed.
Dad frowned and looked back down at his paperwork, “That’s good. Your cousin has always excelled as a receiver.”
“You mean my brother. Beau’s not my cousin. He’s my brother.” I’d never forced my dad to face this. I’d been so angry with Beau about Ashton when this all came out, I’d let this slide. If Beau didn’t want to deal with it then I’d figured why should I? But it wasn’t fair. This farce my dad lived wasn’t fair.
Clearing his throat, he took off his reading glasses and leaned back in his chair to level his gaze on me. “You want to talk about that? Is that what this is about?”
“Yeah, it is. I want to talk about that.” I didn’t snap. I kept my tone level. Yelling wouldn’t get me anywhere.
“Beau is biologically mine, yes. But I didn’t raise him. I didn’t love his mother. Your uncle did. Not me. I do not see Beau as my son. My nephew, yes.”
“But he is your son. His dad died when he was six years old. He’s needed a dad for twelve years now and you did nothing. Not once did you check on him. Not once did you tell him you were proud of him. Not once did you make his life easier.” I stopped as my voice got louder and louder.
“Tell him I was proud of him? For what? Being a loser? Coming to football practice with a hangover? Hanging out in bars? What the hell was I supposed to be proud of? Huh? Please tell me that.”
My hands balled into fist and I took a deep breath. I was so close to taking a swing at my own dad. “He was stuck with Aunt Honey who left him at home alone when he was just a kid. If he hadn’t lived in a trailer park where people deal drugs and God knows what else, maybe he would’ve known better. But he didn’t. He made mistakes. He had to learn things the hard way. He had to learn everything the hard way. Because YOU WEREN’T THERE,” I pointed my finger at my dad and snarled. “Beau straightened himself out. He got a football scholarship to the UNIVERSITY OF ALABAMA for crying out loud. He found a way to make money so he could buy himself a truck. He loves his mama and takes care of her even though she did nothing to earn his help. Why? Because he loves her. She’s all he has ever had. He made himself and what he made is one damn fine man. I am so proud to call him my brother I am bursting with it when I see him. And YOU, you did nothing. Not one damn thing to make him. Nothing,” I finished and turned to leave his office. I didn’t want to stay here. Not under this roof. Not with him.
“You’re right,” my dad’s voice called out after me and I stopped and squeezed my eyes closed tightly before turning back around to look at him.
“I wasn’t there. I let him figure it all out on his own. I was afraid of your mother finding out. I was afraid of this town finding out. I didn’t want to lose this life I’d built for myself. You’re wrong about one thing though. I did check on him. Why do you think you got away with sneaking out to go get him out of jams or going to stay with him when he was alone? Did you think you were just that good at being sneaky? You weren’t. When you left to go to him, I followed you. I watched you both. I watched as you fixed his problems, got him out of messes and stayed by his side when he was alone. I was always there. I was proud of you for being there for him when I wasn’t. I’m not proud of myself, Sawyer. I’ll live with this regret the rest of my life. Nevertheless, I am proud of Beau. He has turned into the man I always hoped he would be. He’s tougher than you because of the life he lived. He is harder around the edges but he’s a good boy.”
My dad reached down and opened a drawer in his desk that he always kept locked and pulled out a large scrapbook and laid it on the desk. “Go ahead, take a look.”
I walked over and opened the leather binding to see pictures of Beau as a baby. Pictures of the two of us in our football helmets when they were bigger than we were. Each page held memories of Beau’s life. Every article where he’d been mentioned in the paper had been carefully clipped and placed in the pages. After I turned the last page, I saw a picture of Beau in his practice gear standing on the field at Bryant-Denny stadium last week during practice. Lifting my eyes, I stared at my father and saw a man I didn’t know existed.
“I went to both your practices last week. You both made me proud.”
Shaking my head trying to take this all in, I sank down into the chair behind me. “Why don’t you reach out to him? If you have all this, you have to love him. You have to care about him. Why aren’t you doing something about it? He needs you too.”
“He hates me and I don’t blame him,” Dad said, taking the binder and placing it back in the drawer.
“Hell yeah, he hates you. You’re his father and he thinks you care nothing for him.”
“You know Beau. Better than anyone. Do you really think he’d listen to me? That he’d forgive me?”
“Dad, he doesn’t have to forgive you. He doesn’t have to like you. But he needs to know you love him. That you’re proud of him. All you have to do is tell him. How he handles it or takes it isn’t what’s important. What’s important is that he knows. What’s important is that you tell him.”
Dad sat down at his desk and neither of us spoke. There was nothing more to say.
