For You

Chapter TWENTY-SEVEN

Aubrey and I got Bell off to school that morning, and she was only a few minutes late. She seemed wary of me, looking to Aubrey each time before she spoke to me, but by the time we got her to school, she was relaxed enough to give me a quick hug goodbye.

Over the next two months, I got to know Bell a little better.

I was patient, but persistent.

Aubrey let me come over almost every day.

I was careful not to be too affectionate with Aubrey in front of her little sister.

To my relief, I found that I really liked Bell.

She could drive you nuts sometimes with questions, but she was a good person.

Bell liked chocolate, but not white chocolate.

She had to get completely dressed before she could decide if she liked what she was wearing.

And she thought holding her body stiff as I bench-pressed her was the greatest thing that could happen to a person.

I found myself falling in love not with one girl, but with two.

When the three of us went out, people smiled at us and asked how old our daughter was.

“Seven,” Aubrey and I would say at the same time. Seven was my new favorite number. I felt bad for allowing people to think she was my kid, but the world didn't need an explanation.

I was still living at the house with my roommate, at least until I saved up a bit more cash from my new job. The money was really good, and my savings account would be quite ample after a couple more months.

Working for my father was no picnic, but by August, he stepped back and let me take over managing the shop sometimes. It was just a few days a week, overseeing the thirty employees, but bringing our jobs in on time and on budget would go a long way to getting my father to have confidence in me.

My older brother was running a construction company and loving that, so I was all my father had, and he knew it.

Things were finally coming together in my life, and I felt like a fool for the way I'd been living for the last few years. How had the difficult path become the one that seemed so right? I could still make my art, only now there was no pressure to always be taking new commissions. I could draw for the love of drawing, when I felt like it, because a steady paycheck would be coming from my real work.

Even my so-called real work had pleasure in it as well. I loved the smell of wood that permeated my clothes after a day at the shop. The workers were closer to my age than to my father's, and they didn't seem to pull as much crap on me, except for the new guys, but that's to be expected. As long as they weren't injuring themselves, that was the best I could hope for with some of the inexperienced guys.

Another reason I was still living with Spanky, besides it being cheap, was that I had plans to ask Aubrey and Bell to move in with me, or have me move in with them.

Even though it was fast, it felt right. I was spending three or more nights a week at their apartment as it was, and I figured my rent money could go toward that place, and Aubrey could cut her shifts at the bar. Getting to spend more time with my girlfriend was another benefit.

I planned to ask her that night at the barbecue, right after I gave her a real ring to replace the fake one she still wore to the bar. Not an engagement ring—we were moving fast, but not that fast—but a ring with a heart, and a tiny red stone. I was also going to tell her I loved her.

We'd both been stumbling around the word, but it was time for one of us to blink.

We were going to Bruce's for a big party on the Labor Day weekend, the first weekend in September, and I had a whole talk prepared about how we were so great together, like a team. She inspired me to be a better man, and all that stuff.

My hands were sweating on the steering wheel when I pulled the car up to her building. The bike wasn't sold yet, but I'd parked it at my parents' garage, and spent some savings on a little Toyota. The car was four years old, low mileage, and the least sexy vehicle I could stomach. I had a look at some minivans, but my pride couldn't take a minivan. There were three seatbelts in the back of the car, so I could easily take Bell and a couple of her friends anywhere.

Things were definitely looking up for ol' Sawyer Jones, so why did I feel like the ax was about to fall, and my heart was on the chopping block?

They came skipping out of the building, Bell leading the way in her purple leggings and pink skirt, her hair up in two pigtails. Aubrey had been so worried about introducing Bell to me, but Bell actually took to me way easier than Aubrey did.

My heart swelled with pride as I imagined watching Bell sing in Christmas pageants and then eventually graduate. By then, Aubrey and I would probably have another kid, and Bell would make such a great big sister. The new kid would have dark hair, and a girl would be cool, but a boy would probably be better so I wasn't completely outnumbered.

I got out of the car and came around to open the doors for my ladies.

Bell climbed in and Aubrey followed, both of them sitting in the back seat.

“Am I your chauffeur?” I shook my head, pretending to be overworked. “I do not get paid enough!”

As Bell giggled and got her seat belt on, I stole a kiss from Aubrey. When we weren't alone, the kisses always felt stolen, like she was embarrassed to be seen kissing me in public or even in front of Bell. That only made me want her kisses more.

Her hair smelled clean, and I lingered, unwilling to let go of her lips. Finally, she put her hands on my chest and shoved me out of the car.

“We're going to be late,” she said.

“It's a barbecue, not a boat cruise. They won't leave without us.”

She gave me her stern look, the one I'd seen her use on Bell. It was equally effective on me, and I stopped my goofing around and circled around the car to act as chauffeur.

The vehicle itself had a scent of fast food, as if the owner had used it to store crumpled paper bags and garbage from all the chains. When the air conditioning came on, I always got a craving for french fries.

We drove over to Bruce's house, and my mind floated around on the pleasant anticipation of grilled steaks and baked potatoes with all the fixings.

I rolled the car slowly up the street, looking for numbers. I'd worked for Bruce for about a year, and we were friendly, but I'd never been to his house. Now I was coming as a potential new family member. Life was funny, but sometimes things felt right. Like now.

I got out of the car and patted my pocket to make sure the ring was still there. The girls got out, but Aubrey seemed distracted. I knew she got stomach aches sometimes from worrying about money, so I asked if she was okay and she muttered that she was “just tired.”

I patted the square lump in my pocket again and we started to cross the street to Bruce's house. Those delicious steaks were on my mind, and the ring, so when Aubrey tugged my hand and asked for the car keys, I didn't think much of it.

“What did you forget? Go on ahead, I'll run back to the car and get it for you.”

She looked at me like I was the world's biggest idiot, and then she kissed me. Deeply. Right on the street in front of everyone.

“Sawyer,” she said, breathless. “If you love me, give me your keys. Then turn around and go to Bruce's house like everything's normal and tell them Bell got a stomach ache.”

“I don't understand.” Was there a problem with Bell? No, she was busy, fascinated by some flowers blossoming along the edge of the sidewalk.

Aubrey kissed me again, then pulled back, her eyes pleading.

If I loved her, I'd give her my keys.

That's what she'd said.

I reached into my pocket, past the ring box, and grabbed the keys for the Toyota.

She took them from me.

“Aubrey?”

She hustled Bell back toward the car, saying they had to run home to get something they'd forgotten.

Bell said, “Mom, what did we forget?”

Aubrey glanced back at me over her shoulder, looking so fragile and beautiful and scared. She was trying to tell me something with her eyes, but I still didn't understand.

Then she got into the car and the two of them drove away.

That was when I realized that the other cars parked in front of Bruce's house weren't people coming to his barbecue. They were unmarked police cars, two of them.

I looked up to the front door of Bruce's house and saw two police officers, the RCMP, unmistakable with their yellow-hued stripes down the outer edges of their pants, standing on the porch.

The red tail lights blinked out of sight. Aubrey was already gone.