All the Battles We Surrender: From the Ashes Book 3 of 3 by Garry Michael

Author:Garry Michael [Michael, Garry]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Independent
Published: 2022-07-20T18:30:00+00:00

Twelve: Sawyer

Is There a Measurement for Regret

It was noon by the time I made it to Hawkins’s house. The morning breeze had calmed, and the low morning fog obscuring parts of the bay and the mountain in the distance had dissipated. If only my mind was as clear as the picture-perfect view before me.

Dr. Peters’s prediction about my condition had been correct so far; with each passing day, my energy was decreasing, and I had to drag myself out of bed to get my day going. I even put in the extra effort to get ready with the thought that looking good would make me feel good—or at least fool those around me that I wasn’t dying.

I made my way past the house to visit Topaz. I didn’t know the other dogs so I let them sniff my hand, but I wasn’t comfortable letting them out of their pens. Topaz had grown into a beautiful beast with smoky fur and ice blue eyes. He was no longer the soft ball of fur I remembered. I let him out of his pen and he almost knocked me to the ground.

“Whoa, Topaz. I know, I’m excited to see you too,” I laughed when he licked my face. I grabbed his leash and connected it to his collar before walking gingerly to the bench near the beach.

Perhaps fresh air would help. Topaz seemed to sense that I needed to be careful and he didn’t yank on his leash at all. He sat next to me when we reached the bench and rested his large head on my lap and closed his eyes. Sighing, I mirrored him and closed my eyes too. Filling my lungs with crisp ocean air, I thought about my interaction with Hawkins this morning. Did I overreact about the entire cake situation? Maybe. The failure to try the final two flavors was another reminder of how I miscalculated everything I knew in life. Another bucket list item I would never be able to fulfill when my condition went south.

“Or it could work too.” Dr. Peters’s optimism reverberated in my head. It could, but I had to treat each day like it was my last in the event that treatment failed me.

My phone vibrated, jolting me out of my somber mood. I pulled it out of my coat pocket, frowning at the set of numbers I didn’t recognize. 907. Who do I know from that area code? Seconds later, it occurred to me that it was Seward’s local area code. I cleared my throat. “Hello?”

“Hi, this is Mark Harrington, from Harrington and Charles Law Office. I’m returning Sawyer Montgomery’s call from yesterday,” a man said in a singsong voice.

“This is he,” I answered. “Thank you for calling back.”

“Oh, it’s my pleasure. I understand you have some questions about setting up a will?” The sound of pages being flipped carried through the receiver.

“That’s correct.” I stood to walk to the house so I could take some notes with my laptop. Dr. Peters

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