Perfectly Imperfect Mine (Garrison Brothers Book 1)

one.
“Lori, just hear me out. Leave Sadie here with me, just ’til you get settled. You and Billy get some time alone and I can keep Sadie with me until you are ready for her.”
There was silence. Sadie remembered the burst of hope she had. Maybe her mom would say yes and she’d get to stay. But as always, her mom disappointed her.
“No. She’s my kid and she comes with me. You want a kid, go have one, Jenn, but you ain’t getting mine.” Her mom’s tone was nasty. It always was when it came to Aunt Jenn. Sadie never could understand why.
When they first moved to Cedar Bluff, Sadie hated it, mainly because she missed Aunt Jenn so much. Her aunt loved her. She took care of her; she played with her, read to her, fed, and bathed her. She did everything a mother should do. All the things Sadie’s own mother didn’t. She was devastated about moving but Aunt Jenn promised to visit. The morning they left Sadie hugged her aunt so tight she might have left bruises. Sadie began to cry as she waved to Aunt Jenn from the backseat of the car and didn’t stop for the entire car ride. She cried all eleven hours.
Aunt Jenn sent her packages every month with clothes and books. She’d even sent her famous brownies. Of all the things she sent, her letters were Sadie’s favorite. She asked about school, “Hey kiddo! How’s school? I bet you have made lots of friends. Isyour teacher nice?”
Her letters were always positive. “Think of this as a new adventure and write me all about it!”
“I’ve never been to Nebraska, what’s it like? How exciting it will be during the winter. All that snow, you’ll have so much fun, Sadie!” Aunt Jenn always ended her letters the same. “Remember, I love you, Sadie, no matter how many miles separate us, I’ll always love you, kiddo!” Sadie loved her letters. She survived her first year away because of those letters.
Aunt Jenn didn’t visit. She planned to but she never came. Sadie always thought her mom had something to do with it. When she asked, her mom just said it was bad timing. A year and a half after they moved, Aunt Jenn died. It was a freak car accident, rainy conditions, and she lost control of her car. She was pronounced dead at the scene, she had died on impact. She was gone.
Sadie and her mom didn’t go back for the funeral. Her mom said it would be too hard. She continued on with life and expected Sadie to do the same. But she was devastated, heartbroken. A part of her had died that day. Sadie was never the same.
Life went on.
Sadie wiped the tears from her eyes and pulled into her spot in front of her trailer. All these years later and she still missed her aunt. It was hard to let go of someone you loved so much and loved you back.
Sadie got out of her car and walked up to her front door. She unlocked the door, opened it and walked in. Flicking on the lights, she kicked the door closed and locked it back up. She looked around the trailer. Thank you, Billy, for inviting my mom to this hellhole. Sadie snorted.Billy only stayed for two months before he left her mom.
After Billy, it was a revolving door of men. Her mom had men come in and out of her life, some good and some bad. They all had one thing in common, they all left. Sadie stopped keeping track of her love life at an early age. Her mom’s famous mantra became “this is the one, Sadie.” She would just smile and nod. Listen when it was expected. Be happy when her mom was happy. Leave her alone when her mom was raging from being left for another woman. That happened a lot.
Sadie grabbed a bottled water and plopped down on her couch. This place had been home for so long with so many memories. She stared at the empty corner by the TV. They had put up a small Christmas tree in that spot every year. Her first Christmas had been great, a few presents under the tree. Sadie smiled at the memory. The next year hadn’t been so sweet. Sadie remembered jumping out of bed and running to the tree to find it empty. Not one present under the tree. Her mother’s words still ringing in her head.
“I told you Santa’s always watching, you must have been bad this year.”
“Jesus, Lori, don’t tell her that,” her mom’s boyfriend Gary said. He walked over to Sadie where she had stood in front of the empty tree with tear filled eyes.
“Maybe he got lost, kid. Maybe he’ll bring you extra stuff next year.” Gary gave a weak smile. She had to give credit to Gary for trying. It was more than her mom did. The first of many childhood letdowns in Cedar Bluff.
Sadie spent her childhood watching people. Kids didn’t bother with her at school. She never had many friends. She didn’t want them. She talked to kids, even played tag in the courtyard. But she didn't have any true friends. She didn’t have sleepovers.  She didn’t have birthday parties. She was invited to a few but never went. They didn’t have “money to buy rich kids more shit.” Her mom’s words, not hers. Eventually the invitations stopped.
Sadie learned at an early age, her life was not the same as the other kids. She didn’t get new clothes for the first day of school, or picture day. She didn’t have baked treats to bring in on her birthday. Her hair was never in bows. Santa didn’t come every Christmas. Sadie learned to be okay with it. That’s what she told herself. Still, there was one thing she never gave up hope on, getting—a pet.
As a child, she begged and pleaded for a dog. Every Christmas and birthday, it was the