The Mechanics of Mistletoe - Liz Isaacson Page 0,75

she probably wouldn’t know. Sammy could drop Lincoln at school and go, and he wouldn’t know for hours and hours.

Probably one of her mechanics would be the first to know when she didn’t show up for work. Tomorrow, she was opening the shop with Jeff, and she really disliked that it would be Jeff Walters who would be the first to know she’d left town.

“Who do you want it to be?” she asked herself. Yesterday, she would’ve said Bear without hesitation. Today, though, she wasn’t sure. She didn’t need the big, bad Bear to come sailing in at the first sign of trouble in Sammy’s life. She could handle whatever life threw at her. She could.

She had been for five long years, and she’d been doing it just fine without Bear Glover. Her heartbeat sounded like a gong in her ears, and Sammy stood in the hallway while she asked herself, But why should you have to?

She turned away from the confusion and the questions and went back into her father’s hospital room. She didn’t have time to think about Bear right now. Her father and mother needed her. Lincoln needed her. She could deal with Bear later.

Sammy helped her father into the house the following morning. She went to the shop but called her mother every hour to check on them. She left the moment Lincoln got off the bus, picked up food at a Tex-Mex restaurant, and ate dinner with her son and her parents.

Bear texted, and Sammy’s heart leapt in her chest.

How’s your dad?

Good, Sammy sent back just before a terrible clattering sound filled the air, startling her away from her phone. “Lincoln,” she said, jumping up from the table. “What happened?”

“I just dropped the silverware,” he said, looking at her with wide eyes.

“We have to be more careful,” she said, her voice snappy. “Grandpa needs to rest.”

“Sorry, Sammy.” Lincoln set his plate in the sink gingerly.

“Let’s go,” she said, marching back to the table to get her plate and clean up. She hadn’t eaten much, but she wasn’t very hungry. The sun set earlier now that autumn had truly arrived, and when she and Lincoln pulled into their driveway, the motion-detection lights came on to illuminate her driveway.

“Get your backpack,” she said. “You have homework to do.”

“It’s Saturday tomorrow,” Link said. “Can’t I do it later?”

Sammy didn’t want to argue. Her brain felt full to capacity, and the only word she had to describe how she felt was tired. No, exhausted. She was utterly and completely exhausted.

“Fine,” she said. “Still bring in the backpack.” She got out of the car and headed inside. Lincoln came behind her, and once they were inside, Sammy moved toward the steps. “I’m going to go change.”

“Can I have some ice cream?”

“Yes,” Sammy said, because she didn’t want to deal with what might happen if she said no. She had no reason to deny him the ice cream, other than she didn’t want him to have it. Eating ice cream dirtied dishes, and Lincoln wouldn’t clean those up. Eating ice cream made people happy, and she didn’t want him to be happy.

She slowed, realizing what she’d just thought. “That’s not true.” She quickly stepped into her bedroom and closed and locked the door. All she wanted was for Lincoln to be happy. She worked for that all day, every day.

She didn’t change her clothes. Instead, she laid down on the bed and cried, wondering if she’d always feel this inadequate and this angry about the cards life had dealt her.

She wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but she sat straight up when the car alarm started blaring through the neighborhood. Dashing to the door, she fumbled with the lock. When she finally got the door open, she called, “Lincoln?”

A breeze brushed her face, and cold terror ran through her when she reached the top of the steps and looked down. The front door was wide open.

“Lincoln,” she called now, pure panic pumping in her veins. At the bottom of the steps, she paused. The darkness beyond the front door yawned, the mouth of it huge and wide and terrifying.

The motion-detector lights flashed on, and Lincoln came running up the steps. “The car is locked,” he yelled over the alarm. “Do you have the keys?”

Annoyance sang through her, twirling with the adrenaline and making her voice extra loud when she asked, “Why were you out at the car?”

“I left my backpack out there,” he said.

“Lincoln.” She marched out onto the porch

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