Page 40 of A Me and You Thing
“Be willing to go with the flow and you’ll be fine.”
Sawyer’s usual humor is still there. But his smile and laughter are absent, making him seem overly serious and severe. Not the man I know at all. I miss the real man underneath the grief. It makes me realize he’s drowning and not trying very hard to surface. Understandable, though. He’s allowed to mourn. Still, it’s a little disturbing. I have no idea how to help him. I guess helping his children is the most I can do right now. I’m pretty sure that’s huge.
“Eggs and toast?” he asks me.
I guess I don’t get eggies. “Sure. I’ll make the toast.” Because that’s about all I can do.
Even then, I burn it. I try to cover the burnt marks with butter, but it doesn’t really hide my mistake.
I approach the table with my burnt offerings. He’s already sitting down in front of light and fluffy scrambled eggs.
Show off.
He glances at my toast, but he doesn’t comment. He gives eggies to the girls along with a few handfuls of cheerios each. They dive right in, their chubby fingers picking up the pieces of food they prefer. Half the time, they miss their mouths and start all over again. I have to admit, it’s adorable to watch.
We both fill our plates and begin to eat as well. The silence is only interrupted by Josie and Jordyn’s babbles.
Sawyer gets to his feet suddenly. “Mmm, I should show you the schedule.”
“Schedule?”
“The Grandma Gang schedule.” He sits back down and hands me a typed sheet. I study it carefully. Each day shows when Claire, Sawyer’s mom, or Charlotte, Quinn’s mom, are either bringing dinner over or picking up the girls from daycare and staying with them until Sawyer gets home from work.
“But the girls won’t be going to daycare now, right?”
“Right. I’ll let them know and make a new schedule. We’ll figure this out.”
“It’s nice that they want to help.”
“Yeah. Couldn’t do it without them.”
We finish our breakfast, then Sawyer leans back in his chair. “The aquarium wants me back as soon as possible.”
“Are you ready to go back?”
“No. I’ll never be ready, though. To be honest, the holdup was more about what to do with the girls than me. I wasn’t happy with the daycare plan. That’s solved, thanks to you. And... I think I need to stay busy or I’ll just...” His eyebrows knit and he shakes his head.
Wallow. I think that’s the word he’s searching for.
“It’s just better if I stay busy,” he finishes.
“Okay, so now that I’m here, you can go back to work.” It would be the best thing for him.
He nods, his eyes staring out the kitchen window. “Yeah, I think I’m ready. If you asked me yesterday, I would’ve said no. I’m rethinking that decision. I’m glad I’ve had this time with the girls. We all needed it. I feel like we’ve bonded in a way that’s different than before...”
He can’t bring himself to saybefore Quinn died.
He lets his words hang in the air, then goes on without finishing his sentence. “But I’m starting to feel stir crazy. I don’t wanna spend my life depressed. I need to do something.”
I couldn’t agree more. He’s in a rut. His mourning won’t end, but he needs other things to occupy his mind.
“I can understand how you feel. That’s why I’m here. To help you move on.” I grab the last piece of toast, take a bite, and try not to cringe as the burnt flavor invades my mouth.
He runs his hands over his face as though he’s very tired. He looks directly at me, something I’ve noticed he avoids. “You’re saving me, Bree. Thank you.”
According to guy talk, that was highly effusive. I appreciate the effort.
His eyes again wander to the kitchen window. “I keep thinking this is all one big mistake, that she’s about to walk up the front pathway and come inside.” He lowers his head. “It never happens, though.”
