Every Breath by Tasha Ivey Page B

pages. “He’s a sweetheart, Mak. You really lucked out this year. I bet your class gets a ton of letters from him.”
    I point to the computer screen and tap the open message window. “Actually, he wants to do a video chat with the class Monday when I give them his letter.”
    “No fair!” she pouts. I watch her eyes skim over the messages that Sawyer and I sent to each other earlier. “Hmm . . . is it just me, or are you flirting with your soldier a little bit?”
    “No, I’m not! I was just being nice.”
    She stares at me for a moment, and as always, trying to peer into the deep recesses of my soul to determine what is really going on in there. Seeming to make up her mind that she believes me, she shrugs her shoulders. “Well, he’s probably dog ugly anyway. I mean, look at how nice he is. And he talks about being lonely. The gorgeous ones are always jerks.”
    After processing what she says, I wonder if she is talking about Drew, too. “ All of the gorgeous ones? What about Coach . . . uh, what are you calling him this week? Oh, yeah, what about Coach Sweet Cheeks?”
    “Well,” she draws out and twists her mouth to the side, “today he’s a jerk for not calling you. And my hubby is a jerk for not emailing me like he said he would. So, I’m going to go upstairs to call him and take a bath.”
    “Okay, that’s fine. I put clean sheets on the guest bed for you.”
    Callie pecks me on the cheek. “Love you. See you in the morning. I’ll cook us something yummy for breakfast.”
    Something “yummy” usually involves some sort of burnt, undercooked, or partially frozen protein of some sort, but I have to love her for trying. “Goodnight, Cal.”
    As soon as she ascends the stairs, a familiar ping catches my attention. I grab my cell phone from the couch, thinking that Drew has finally texted me back, but my phone doesn’t show that I have any messages. I turn to the coffee table and notice a flashing icon on the instant messenger window. I immediately know who it is.

    Sawyer: ‘Hi, again. Just happened to notice you were logged on and thought I’d say hello.’

    Makenna: ‘Hello! I’m glad you did.’

    I actually am glad he did, for some reason.

    Sawyer: ‘Sorry to bother you. I just had some down time, so I was checking emails and saw you were on. I guess I’m starved for some sort of a link to home. How’s the weather in Alabama these days?’

    Poor guy.

    Makenna: ‘The weather hasn’t been too bad. It’s just starting to cool. And I don’t mind chatting with you, really. Feel free to anytime. You don’t have to answer this if it’s too personal, but don’t you have family back in the states?’

    Sawyer: ‘None, actually. There is a man that I consider a grandfather, but he is in a nursing home just outside of Mobile in Saraland. It’s hard for me to contact him. I do call him when I can, but his health isn’t good, so he rarely can talk.’

    Makenna: ‘I’m sorry to hear that. If I can help get a letter to him or something, I’m happy to. You’re talking about Hillcrest Manor, aren’t you?’

    Sawyer: ‘I don’t send any. He is blind now, so he can’t read, but I appreciate the offer. How did you know it’s Hillcrest?’

    Me: ‘Just a guess. I volunteered there a few years ago. Can’t the nurses read them to him?’

    Sawyer: ‘He a stubborn old coot. He’ll hardly let anyone near him long enough to care for him, much less read to him. He’s still mad that I put him in there, but I really didn’t have a choice once he was unable to take care of himself and I got deployed again.’

    Me: ‘Well, anytime I can do something for him, don’t hesitate to ask.’

    Sawyer and I talk for a while about our favorite hobbies, food, music, and movies. I learn that he has played the guitar since he was seven years old, he adores Italian food, and he is a big fan of classic mystery novels and black and white movies. I told him all of my favorites, including authentic