My Spy 2: Witness Protection

Ain't My Mama's Broken Heart

After sneaking out of Gus's living room the next morning, I slip into the backdoor of our house hoping to arrive unnoticed. Unfortunately, Ryan happens to be standing next to our kitchen table when I cross the threshold. He's wearing his official navy F.B.I windbreaker and it's the only time he's worn it in front of me since he rescued me from the schoolhouse.

We lock eyes for a moment and I glance to the newspaper he's clutching in his right hand. He tosses the paper onto the kitchen table and strides off down the hallway. The picture on the front page of the Hollis Herald catches my attention and I immediately snatch it up from the table.

Taking up the whole page is an article detailing the botanical garden grand opening. Right next to the article, is a large colored picture of me with the Samuels. I immediately understand why Ryan looked disgusted as he tossed the paper aside. In the picture, I am standing with my hip popped slightly while holding the large golden scissors in front of Tate, who has his hand placed comfortably around my waist. It looks like I'm leaning into him and even I have to admit, we look like a damn good couple. We are both smiling and his hand placement is very suggestive since his hand was touching the skin on my hip. It happened to fall right where the cutouts on my dress were.

Suddenly, my mother somehow materialized behind me and I jump at the sound of her voice.

"Took my advice after all did ya?" She's peering at the paper over my shoulder and I glance in her direction.

"It's not what it looks like."

"Looks like you and Tate make a mighty fine couple. Dapper one ain't he?" She replies with her eyes glued on Tate. I toss the paper back onto the table and start walking back down the hall to find Ryan. He has to know the truth. I can't keep up this charade, it just hurts the both of us. I hear my mother call out after me as soon I get into the foyer.

"He literally just left Sawyer. Him and Austin are going back to South Carolina. Austin was going to wait for you to come home so he could say goodbye but we didn't know where you were or when you'd be back." My heart sinks as I stare out the small window next to my front door and Austin's white Audi is gone. I missed them by minutes. I had no idea they were leaving and Ryan didn't even say goodbye. The last thing he saw was incriminating evidence to something that's not even true.

I can't believe he's gone. I knew this is what I needed to have happen but now that they've left, I'm devastated. I can't imagine why I'd ever see him again, it's not like he has any reason to come back and visit.

I dash upstairs into my room and throw myself onto my bed so overdramatically. The tears start as soon as I hit my pillow and I hear my bedroom door squeak open moments later. My mother's footsteps stop beside my bed and without looking to her she snaps, "I'm not going to let you do this again Sawyer. I let you wallow over Jackson for weeks but I won't do the same this time. Now, you are going to get out of this bed, slap some lipstick on, put on your finest dress and go on like none of this ever happened you hear? Get yourself together and act like the lady I raised you to be instead of some damsel." She spins on her heel and strides right out my door, slamming it behind her. I throw a small decorative pillow that was laying on my bed against the closed door in frustration and it hits it with a thud. I can be upset if I want to be upset.

Although, I am tired of always being the one bawling my eyes out while everyone else moves on with their lives. I hardly doubt Jackson shed a tear over my departure from the carriage house and Ryan left snarling- even if that was my own fault. Jackson moved on to Poppy, Ryan will move forward with work and I need to move forward too. I can't stay in this house feeling sorry for myself any longer than I already have. It's time for me to figure out what I am doing with my life and start doing it!

I push myself off of my bed wondering how I can start moving forward. Ryan's shirt is draped across the armchair next to my closet door and I snatch it up and throw it out into the hallway. I can't have his clothing drenched in his smell laying around, reminding me he's gone. I'm then inspired to stride into my cluttered closet. I glance around to all of my one-occasion dresses hanging neatly on one side and then look to the heaping pile of sweatpants and cotton tees on the floor. I toss all of my ratty, broken-hearted lounge clothes into a lopsided pile in front of the closet door. I pull off all the dresses I wore to events with Jackson and also throw them onto the pile. I lost a few pounds after my broken engagement, when I refused to put anything into my mouth that wasn't poured from a wine bottle, and take all my now ill-fitting jean shorts and jeans and toss them aside as well.

I shovel the mound of clothes into my arms and dump them into the hallway in front of my bedroom door. I then spin around and race through my room grabbing anything and everything that reminds me of Jackson or Ryan and throw them out into the hallway as well. Pictures, old wine bottles, the whiskey from my father's truck when we snuck out to the meadow is flung all into the hallway along with Ryan's other shirts I stole, the trophy from the two-step contest and a matchbook I pocketed from the tavern we visited in Tullahoma. I don't want any mementos from my failed relationships and I'm doing everything I can to start a blank slate. Start fresh as someone new.

Celia appears in my doorway as I am tossing things out and asks, "Sawyer sweetie, what you doin'? Spring cleaning don't start for a few months." I stop rummaging through my vanity and face her, "I am cleansing my soul, Celia. I'm getting rid of all the things that remind me of lost love. I can't move on if I'm bawling into Ryan's shirt every night." She nods her head as she looks around my room.

"Mr. Ryan sat in here all night last night, he did. I kept askin' if he needed tea or anything but he just sat here waitin' for you."

"He did?" I ask her and she gives a slight nod. Her wide brown eyes soften as her dark hand covers mine and says, "I know Mrs. Sweeney can be hard on ya darlin' but I hope at the end of the day you're doing everythin' you can to make yourself happy and not worryin' about no one else."

I shake my head, "It's not that easy Celia. I'm learning I can't be that selfish." She looks around the mess I've made in the hallway again and starts scooping everything into her arms.

"I'll take care of that, Celia. Don't worry about it." I tell her but she just ignores me and continues to gather everything into her arms. She smiles at me and then disappears downstairs. I look around my room and release a sigh of relief. I've rid myself of all my physical ties and now I have to deal with my mental ones. I have to decide what to do with myself from now on and hiding in my room will no longer cut it.

I spin around on my vanity seat and pull out a piece of journal paper and a fountain pen. I decide to jot down all the things that interest me that I can find a job in. I write down horses, wine, dancing, reading...and then I get stuck. Four things?! I'm baffled that I can't think of more things that I like to do. I reread my shortlist over and over and nothing hits me with inspiration. I mean I kind of like gardening and I really like drinking but I decide not to jot either of those down on the list. What else can I start my career in?

Annabeth works as a secretary for the courthouse in town and Gus helps his parents with their lucrative lumber business. The Sweeneys found their wealth in the Civil War when we were the prominent sellers of gun powder. That kept us in Hollis's high society for decades and investments in the railroads solidified our wealth for generations. Even now, my father dabbles around in hobbies while he works as a financial consultant as he continues to invest our wealth but we've hardly had to work hard for our lavish lifestyle. My mother has never worked a day in her life so she'd hardly be the person to ask for advice and even then, she'd just tell me to run off and volunteer a few days a month.

I stay slumped in my seat, discouraged at my nonexistent resume and then drop my forehead onto the desk. There has to be something I can do!

Finally, an idea comes to me that forces me to fly out of my seat. I leap down the stairs and find my mother's keys sitting on the entryway table. Without asking, I jump into her car and drive off towards town.