Page 85 of Fly Boy
*Sends image*
I glance at Sadie, who makes a show of turning her head to the sky, and I stretch forward, setting my cell next to the glass of iced tea.
“You saw that, huh?”
She shakes her head innocently. “Didn’t see a thing. But if you’d like to talk about that instead of the big elephant on the porch, I’m all ears.” She grins cheekily, bringing one foot up and tucking it under her leg as she watches me. The silence is deafening as she waits me out.
“I’m a bad son,” I mutter, staring at my hands.
Sadie stomps her foot down, the chair jerking to a stop, and I turn to look at her, a scowl etched on her pretty face. Suddenly, I feel like a child again, which is odd, considering Sadie has never given me—or any of her sons—that look before. The woman can be scary when she wants to be.
“You cut that out right now, Wyatt Grant,” she demands, her voice stern. “Yes, you should have calledweeksago, but we get it, you’re processing. And believe me, I was not happy with your father for telling you about her on Christmas day. But that still doesn’t make you a bad son.”
“What is he saying about all this?”
She’s quiet, thinking about what to say until she lets out an exasperated breath, reaching up and ruffling her short hair withher hand. “He’s annoyed and sad. For you, obviously, but also, I think, a little for him too.”
I nod, chewing on the corner of my lip. “What does he think I should do?”
“That’s not up to him. That is only something you can decide. If you want to go, that’s fine. If you don’t… then that’s fine too.”
A pregnant pause settles over us, the sound of a car horn in the distance, a Boeing flying overhead, birds chirping in a tree, the only things breaking it.
“Would you think I’m a horrible person if I don’t want to see her?”
She takes my hand in hers and squeezes it reassuringly. “Never, baby. I can’t imagine what you’re going through right now, and I hate that I can’t make it better for you.”
“I hate her,” I say, the immediate guilt that washes over me predictable. I sag forward, my elbows coming to my knees, my head buried in my hands. “I’m such a dickhead.”
Sadie edges closer, putting an arm across my back, rubbing soothing circles like she did when I was sick as a kid.
“I’m not going to pretend I can understand what was going through her mind all those years ago. But I do get that she was young, and so was your dad, and that would have been scary. For both of them. They were basically kids themselves with a baby…” I feel her shake her head against my arm. “God, I remember the first time I met you; I was only eighteen myself, absolutely terrified at the thought of meeting my boyfriend’s kid. But here was this beautiful little boy with the bluest eyes I’d ever seen, holding on to his father’s hand, a bouquet in the other, and you said to me,Dad said I had to give these to you, but I don’t know why we had to buy them, Nanna has flowers in her backyard.”
She laughs, and I cringe, barely recalling that day but remembering. “And he replied,because what’s in Nanna’s yard are weeds,not flowers, Wy.”
She presses harder into the side of my body, laughing at the memory. “Oh my god, he did say that.Urgh,you were too cute, and from that second, I was in love. I knew I had to have you in my life as much as I wanted your father.” She sighs. “And for the record, I would’ve loved hand-picked weeds from the garden as much as the half-bashed white lilies you gave me.”
“You remember the flowers?” Raising my head, I turn it to look at her.
“I do because they became my favorite.” She grins, and the spot on my forearm below my elbow tingles, the ink I have just for her, but is a secret making itself known. “Anyway, I remember the day we brought Bowie home from the hospital, so worried that I wasn’t cut out for this. A nine-year-old at home, a newborn in the car… I was out of my depth. But then you met your brother and wouldn’t leave his side. Helped with his midnight feedings when he woke you up, helped change his diapers, held him whenever he cried. You were my little rock star. And then, when Teddy came along, you were the exact same. The protective big brother helping me look after them.”
I bristle, hiding it behind a tight smile as the praise makes me a little uncomfortable. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for my brothers.
“I could never imagine waking up in the morning and not seeing my boys’ smiling faces, not hearing about their days at school, not watching you grow into the wonderful men you’ve become. And that’s why I do know… Fiona’s decision, whatever the reason was, would have been the hardest one she’d ever have to make.” She links her hand in mine, and the engagement ring I’d helped my dad choose years ago glistens in the sun. “You don’t have to decide if you want to see her right now, but your dad did say that she doesn’t have much time.”
I squeeze her fingers tightly, glancing at her, my mouth impossibly dry as I ask, “If I did go… Would you… Would you come with me?”
She pulls out of my hold and throws her arms around me. Hugging me to her, the swing rocks violently from her movement. “Of course, I would. You never need to ask.”
I stay there for several minutes, my head leaning on hers as my mind races through everything she said. Eventually, she lets me go, wiping at her eyes, a watery smile on her lips as she grabs her glass and drinks half of it in one go.
“Sorry, that got really heavy there,” she says, placing it back down and pointing to my phone. “Why don’t you tell me about thebratthat put that smile on your face?”
“I thought you didn’t see that?” I ask playfully.
Itching her nose, she glances coyly at me from the corner of her eye. “Is that the girl who was at your house on Christmas?”
“You saw her?”
