Her Second-Chance Family. Holly Jacobs
lawn service, then he was going to look up quinoa on the net.
* * *
AUDREY SAT IN the car while Willow talked to Sawyer Williams.
Watching the man was a pleasure. Really, it was absolutely pure pleasure.
He was tall, but not too tall. She was sure he checked the box next to brown when asked what color his hair was, but she wasn’t sure that was an adequate description. It was the sort of brown that probably turned lighter in the summer, and darkened to almost black in the winter. It was on its way to lightening up now.
She wondered what he’d look like if he smiled.
She’d driven Willow here weekly and had hurt for the girl every time the man slammed the door in her face.
But for whatever reason, today was different. Sawyer Williams was talking to Willow. Not just threatening to call the cops, but talking.
Willow was heading toward the car when she suddenly turned around and handed Sawyer a card before she walked toward Audrey.
“How’d it go?” Audrey asked as Willow slid in beside her.
“Well, I had to threaten him...”
“Willow.”
Willow laughed. “With quinoa. Well, quinoa and you. Anyway, he finally agreed. Reluctantly.”
Audrey couldn’t help but grin. She knew that Willow probably wouldn’t see Sawyer agreeing to let her work for free all summer as a victory, but it was. The girl had set her mind to a goal and she’d achieved it. As far as Audrey could tell, there hadn’t been very many victories in Willow’s life.
“That’s great, Willow.”
“Says the woman who’s not going to spend her summer mowing a huge lawn for nothing.”
Audrey’s smile faded. “Not for nothing.”
She knew how guilt could eat at someone. Even if it was guilt over circumstances that weren’t entirely your fault. She didn’t want that for Willow. And the juvenile court system’s slap on the wrist wasn’t enough to assuage Willow’s guilt. But a summer of sweating under the hot sun, doing something tangible for Sawyer...that might.
“No, not for nothing,” Willow admitted.
Audrey’s smile was firmly back in place as she announced, “Well, this calls for a celebration. School’s officially over. You’ve accomplished your goal.”
“Your goal,” Willow sniped.
Audrey glanced at her. The merest hint of a smile was playing at the edges of Willow’s scowl.
Audrey took that as a good sign. “Hey, no matter who set the goal, it’s been met, so we’re celebrating.”
“You all look for reasons to celebrate,” Willow groused. After a pause, she added, “What do you have in mind?”
“I know just the thing,” Audrey assured her.
“Quinoa salad?” Willow teased.
Again, Audrey felt encouraged. Maybe she was finally reaching Willow. She wanted to. She’d been doing everything she could think of since the day the teenager walked into her house.
“Something even better,” she assured Willow. “Yeah, I know it’s hard to believe there’s anything better, but this might qualify. We’ll do dinner at home, then head out.”
They drove the five minutes back to her house and found Maggie May waiting at the front door when they pulled in.
“So how did it go?” she called as Audrey and Willow got out of the car.
When Audrey had bought her house in Wesleyville—a borough between the city of Erie and the Harborcreek home they’d just come from—she’d thought the small house with the big yard had everything she needed. She’d slowly renovated and rehabbed the house until it had everything she wanted, as well.
But it turned out the small house had one huge bonus that no real estate agent could have known about. It had come with Maggie Mayberry as a next-door neighbor.
Maggie May, as the kids called her, was somewhere south of sixty and widowed. She had watched the kids during summer vacations since they’d moved in. Over the past few years Maggie had become more than a neighbor; she’d become family.
“He said yes,” Willow said. “I had to threaten him, though,” she added with a grin.
“With?” Maggie asked.
“Quinoa.” Willow said it as if it were a curse word.
“Hey, you said quinoa was better than you thought,” Audrey protested.
Willow and Maggie both laughed. “It is good,” Audrey protested even as she joined in.
“Congratulations, Willow,” Maggie said.
“We’re going to go to the peninsula tonight,” Audrey told her. “You’re invited for dinner and a sunset.”
“Ask me next time,” Maggie May said. “We both know there will be a next time sooner rather than later. I’ve got a date tonight.”
“Do tell?” Audrey said.
Maggie offered her a small, mysterious smile. “It’s only our second one. If he makes it past date five, I’ll tell.”
“I’ll be waiting,” Audrey assured her.
As Maggie disappeared into her own home, Willow said, “A sunset? We’re going to celebrate with a sunset?”
“Have you ever gone out to the peninsula for sunset?” Audrey countered.
“No.” Willow’s tone made it obvious that she didn’t think a sunset could qualify as much of a celebration.
“Then give it a try and tell me later what you think.”
The sunsets on Erie’s Presque Isle peninsula were one of her favorite parts of summer. When she sat on the rocky beach staring out at the western horizon, all she could see was water and sky. The world seemed limitless.
“A sunset...” Willow muttered as she stalked into the house.
Audrey sighed. Willow had only lived with her since February—not quite half a year. One day soon she’d really reach her.
She just had to keep trying and be patient.
Unfortunately, patience wasn’t one of Audrey’s greatest gifts.
It wasn’t even a minor gift, if she was being honest with herself.
She picked up the mail, placed the bills in one pile and dropped the junk mail in another. There was one envelope that was obviously neither. She opened it and felt sick. It was an invitation to her ten-year high school reunion, the last Saturday in August at the Bayfront Convention Center.
Her heart sank. She didn’t want to go. She doubted that Merrill or Ava would be there, and other than the two of them, there was no one she really wanted to see. Actually, she wasn’t even sure she wanted to see Merrill and Ava. They’d kept in touch, but only just barely since high school.
She didn’t want to look back. There was nothing to be gained by it.
“Aud,” Clinton and Bea shouted in unison.
Audrey crumpled the invitation and put it in the recycle pile. She turned her attention to the kids.
“It’s official,” Clinton announced. “We’re on summer vacation.”
“And Willow finally convinced Mr. Williams to let her mow his lawn,” Audrey said.
“Good for you, Willow,” Clinton called up the stairs. Audrey guessed the girl had made a beeline for her bedroom, confirmed moments later by the sound of a door slamming.