Cheating in Love [Completed]

Chapter 18

"Mom, dad," Sawyer called out. "I'm here."

"Glad to see you home, son," his dad called from the other room. "Your mom just went to sleep, but I don't think she'd mind if you woke her up."

"It's alright, you don't have to," Sawyer called back. He rounded the corner into the living room. His dad had a crossword puzzle book open. "What are you doing? You hate those."

"Your mom asked me to finish it for her," he said. "She's been having a hard time recently."

"Oh," he looked down. Sawyer sat down next to his dad and leaned to see the book.

"So how has school been going?" his dad asked. "You never talk about it over the phone."

"It's been busy. Our new roommate moved out," Sawyer said. "So that's something we're going to have to figure out."

"Who was your new roommate? You never talked about them," he said.

"You remember that American I met in New York?"

"Oh that's nice," his dad said. "I'm always glad you're making friends."

"This one is Macbeth," Sawyer pointed at a line in the book. His dad counted out the letters and marked it in, muttering to himself. Sawyer continued staring at the book, looking at the clues and the spaces. His dad looked at the book, tapping squares with his pencil. He shook his head.

"Why'd he move out?"

"He had to go home to take care of his family," Sawyer looked out the window.

"He sounds like a nice guy," Sawyer's dad said. "Was there anything else going on between you?"

"Why do you ask that?"

"Well when you were in Secondary School you did tell us you wanted to date that boy in your class."

Sawyer felt his face flush red.

"You weren't happy with me when I told you that," Sawyer said.

"I know," he said. "And I'm very sorry about that. Your mother and I both." Sawyer leaned into his father's shoulder. His dad put his arm around Sawyer.

"So you don't mind?" Sawyer asked.

"No," he said. "I don't." Sawyer felt warmth in his heart.

"So am I right?"

"You might be," Sawyer offered a sly grin.

"But he moved back to New York?"

"Yes."

"And is everything okay?"

"His step-father just died," Sawyer said. "And his mom will probably be disabled forever."

"Oh, wow, that's bad," his dad said. "You should be spending time with him. Make sure he's okay."

"I would but it's kind of hard to balance taking care of you, going to school, and traveling to New York," Sawyer pointed to another row on the book. "Descartes."

"What?"

"D-e-s-c-a-r-t-e-s," he said. "A mathematician."

"I didn't know you were into math."

"I'm not. Beckett is."

Sawyer and his father stared at the page in front of them, filled with jumbled letters and unanswered clues. His father cleared his throat, "I think you should go over the long weekend."

"You forget how terrified I am of planes," Sawyer offered a small, nervous laugh.

"That hasn't stopped you before."

"No, it hasn't..."

Beckett felt his phone buzzing in his pocket. He clicked the button to hang up without looking and went back to typing.

A moment later his phone buzzed again.

"Hello?" he snapped. "It's not a good time, you should call back later."

"How much later?"

"Sawyer?" Beckett pulled the phone away from his ear to check the caller ID. "Isn't it really late?"

"Not in New York."

"Are you... in New York?"

"I am."

His breath hitched in his chest. Beckett pressed the phone closer to his ear as though it would bring Sawyer closer to him.

"I was wondering if you could pick me up from the airport?"

"Yeah, of course," Beckett closed his computer and started to shove it back into his bag. "It'll probably be half an hour or so before I can get there."

"No rush," Sawyer said. "You sure it's an okay time? I can get a taxi."

"Yeah, I can. I'll leave right now," he hopped off his chair so fast it tipped to the ground. He cursed silently as he stopped to pick it up. Light traffic on the way to the airport was still too much. Each stoplight he stopped at was guilty of interrupting him.

Halfway there he heard a small voice coming from his phone.

"Beckett, can I hang up now?"

"Yeah," Beckett clicked the speaker icon. "Sorry about that. I'll be there in a few. Wait for me by baggage claim."

"Can do."

The line clicked dead.

Beckett drove the rest of the way to the airport impatiently.