Pursuing Sarah (Sarah Series Book 2) Page 19

  “Oh.”

  I heard a noise from the hall and looked toward the door. It was nothing. “Do you feel you could tell your dad how things make you feel? Like if anything at school would go down? You know he’s your best friend, don’t you? He’d do anything to make things happy for you.”

  “I know.” She picked at the spine of the book she held tightly. “Are you staying?”

  “Honey, I can’t. This was just a visit.”

  “Why can’t you stay?” Her leg thumped the bed cover.

  “My home is in Colorado. I work there, and my friends are there. It’s like if you came there to visit me and I’d want you to stay. You have your life here.”

  “I’d stay.”

  A small lump began to form in my throat. “You can’t leave your daddy.”

  “He could come, too. You’d want him, wouldn’t you?”

  “His job is here, Sophie. We have our own things to do…in different places.”

  “But Sarah, he doesn’t know girl stuff. Like about kidneys. You told the doctor about it and he found that’s what was wrong. And Jo-Ann doesn’t like me, really. She’s glad when I say I have things to do in my room.”

  Boy, this wasn’t going to be easy. “I think we can work on this. I’ll talk to Sam.”

  She jumped up and grabbed my hand. “About us coming to where you live?”

  “No, about Jo-Ann being better about including you.”

  She shrunk back down. “Oh.”

  “Honey.” I took her hand in mine. “I promise I’m going to come back and visit you. And I’ll write, and I’ll call. You’ll get so sick of me, you’ll probably change your number.”

  A little forced smile came to her lips. “I don’t think that’ll happen.”

  “Oh, it will. You’ll say, ‘That woman again? Can’t she get another kid to call and check on?’”

  “I don’t have a phone. Daddy says I’m too little. And it isn’t the same as being here.”

  “Then I’ll call the house. And your daddy’s right—you’re too little to have a phone. Save that for your teenage years.” I reached out and hugged her close.

  “Can I come visit you?” She looked up to see my expression.

  I paused, knowing how difficult that miracle would be. “Something can certainly be arranged.”

  She perked up, breaking from my embrace and getting on her knees in front of me. “This summer? Before I go back to school?”

  “I’ll work on something.”

  She bent down and hugged me. “Okay, then.”

  I pushed myself up. “So we’re good? You’ll get extra sleep tonight, get all better, and be rearing to go tomorrow?”

  “Yes. I promise. Extra sleep. Francine kicked me anyway the last few nights. It’ll be nice to be in my own bed.”

  “It always is.” I smiled before I kissed her forehead. “Sweet dreams, Sophie girl.”

  I closed the door and looked down to Sam’s room. Memories flooded me as I made my way down the stairs, in hopes of a clean getaway.

  I got to the bottom of the stairs and looked toward Sam’s study. He cleared his throat and I realized he was in the living room, nursing a glass of brandy on the sofa. This man, the one I met all those years ago, carrying around a glass, was here again. It would be so easy to step back into that life. To fall back into his arms and security.

  “I’ve got something to show you.” He stood.

  “Sam, I’ve really got to go.”

  “Indulge me.” After a moment, he called up to Sophie. “Soph, I’m going outside. If you need anything, yell.” His voice vibrated against the walls of the stairwell.

  “Okay,” she yelled back.

  “After you.” He held out his arm for me to go first.

  “Where are you taking me? I really do have to get back to my hotel. Kate’s shirt is nice, but I’d feel more comfortable in something I owned.” Kate loaned me a blouse so I wouldn’t have to wear the same thing two days in a row.

  “It won’t take long. I just want you to see what I did with the backyard. I think you’re going to like it.”

  We turned the corner of the house and there it was. Sam had installed an arbor across the back portion of the yard. Pink roses climbed it, and in the middle of the stoned patio were a welcoming lounge chair, sofa, and center table. An enormous red umbrella shielded all three from the brutal temperatures Charleston can reach. In the distance, the church bells chimed, reminding me it was six o’clock.

  “It’s amazing. I love it.” I walked over and touched the fabric. It was royal-blue stripes, complementing the dark wood edging. A few throw pillows were tossed on the cushions. A fountain trickled water in the back. “I could get lost in a good book out here.”

  “Have a seat.” He motioned me to indulge in this outside paradise.

  “Sam—”

  “Only for a minute, Sarah.”

  My phone chirped from my back pocket. On impulse, I pulled it out and looked at the screen. Maggie? What? Now, after nearly a month of begging her on her machine to pick up or stop in the office and egg me in person? That Maggie?

  “I have to take this. I’m sorry.”

  “Sure. I’ll go inside and check on Sophie.”

  I sat down and clicked the button. “Hello.”

  “Sarah, thank God you answered.”

  “Maggie? What’s wrong?”

  “Okay, so I know I haven’t spoken to you. I know I never let you say what you had to say. I know I bought one of those dolls, named it Sarah, and stuck tiny pins in it, but I need your advice.”

  “Stuck pins in it? Are you serious?”

  “Yes, but that’s beside the point.”

  “Maggie, I need you to know that I did nothing with Michael. We are and have always been friends. You just happened to see us having dinner, and yes, I should’ve told you. But trust me, we talked more about you than anything.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah, that didn’t come out exactly right. What I meant to say—”

  “Sarah! I didn’t call to rehash this. I’ve—”

  “But it’s important for me to say this, Maggie. I know how it must’ve looked.”

  “Like you were making a move on Michael. I mean seriously, Sarah. You were wearing the dress; he was wearing cologne. It doesn’t take a scientist to cross-reference much and get a different solution there.”

  “But I wasn’t making a move. He called; I went—although I’m not sure why I picked that stupid dress. I’m not sure what I was thinking. I liked the fact I was having an adult time out. I would never…I didn’t…I told him. Oh, man. This is sounding awful. Hang up and make me suffer longer. I hate myself.”

  I heard her laugh. “Sarah, will you just listen.”

  I noticed Sam had come back and stood by a cooler next to the chair, placing a few beers and water inside it. I readjusted on the sofa. “Okay.”

  “I have a date.”

  “A what?” My neck jutted.

  “A date. And I’m freaking out.”

  “A date with who?”

  “Charlie’s doctor. I took him in for his check-up and one thing led to another.”

  “As in, this is Charlie’s weight, his vitals, and I know you’ve been coming for three years married, but I notice the hue in your eye color looks a little like you’re getting divorced. Wanna go out?”

  “Not hardly.”

  “How did it come up then?”

  Maggie and I went to the same pediatrician. He was hot, there was no doubt. I just always thought he was connected to someone. Maybe because he didn’t seem to pick up the hue in my eye color that I was desperately single.

  “He just commented on if Charlie was going through any changes lately. He noticed a significant change in his weight.”

  “What’s wrong with his weight?”

  “Mom’s been watching him and Lord knows what she’s been feeding him. I can barely tote him around. It’s like he’s got mashed potatoes in his feet, lard in his butt, an
d cookie dough in his cheeks. And you all give me a hard time with not leaving him with that woman. If he escapes diabetes and obesity, it will be a miracle.”

  “That woman is your mother, Maggie.”

  “Whatever. She fed him bacon the other morning after I dropped him off. He smelled like Henrietta’s Greasy Spoon by the time I picked him up. Not even his bath got that stench out of his hair.”

  “Why is she watching him so much?”

  “I started working again.”

  “And you didn’t tell me?” I palmed my chest.

  “Remember, you were too busy fraternizing with my husband to get a call for change of employment from me. Pick a side, Sarah.”

  “Yours. Always. But friends shouldn’t make you choose.”

  “Moving on. And yes, you have to pick. It’s in the rulebook.”

  “Okay, fine.”

  “So I have this date tonight. Why, on God’s green earth, did I agree to tonight? It’s Sunday. No one goes out on a Sunday.”

  “Looks like you are. And when did you set it?”

  “Friday.”

  “And it took you till now to call me?” I heard myself and lowered my voice a tad.

  “Exactly. I wouldn’t have at all, had Liz been any help. But all she can advise is to wear my sluttiest outfit, smear red lipstick on, and lower the octave of my voice. She even suggested to gargle pickle juice with brown sugar. I mean, really. No wonder she’s got a revolving door on her house. Come to think of it, it did smell funny in her house when it came her turn to host our get-togethers.”

  “Okay, sure. I completely see how you’d think Liz is who you want to go to for first-date jitters.”

  “Yeah, well, clearly I was out of my head. In both asking Liz for advice and agreeing to go out. Sarah…do you realize I’m not even divorced? And I’m going on a date? I’m freaking out, Sarah. Freaking out. I think I’m just going to call him and say Charlie’s swallowed a chicken bone and we’re still recovering. I can’t do this.”

  “Okay, take a deep breath. What’s really wrong?”

  “I can’t do this.”

  “I know, you’ve screamed that a few times. My impaired hearing thanks you. Now tell me the real reason. Going out is no big deal. There’s a table, something to eat, a little small talk, and boom, you’re back home and it’s over. You’ve talked to him before; it’s all good. But maybe you want to talk less about Charlie’s regularity and more about your dreams and aspirations.”

  “All I’ve talked to him about are Charlie’s bowel movements, the fact he still wakes up at night, and coughs that aren’t correcting themselves. I’ve never talked about me. In front of a table with food. Are you crazy? This is bad. This is really bad.”

  “So that’s the problem. You’re not comfortable talking about yourself.”

  “Okay, that, and then there’s the little thing where I feel like I’m cheating on my husband. The man who thinks all I do is sit around all day, eat bon bons, and play hopscotch with Charlie. Jerk.”

  “Ah, Michael.” I grabbed a throw pillow and hugged it to my stomach, tossing off my shoes and curling my legs underneath me. “Is there unfinished business there? Do you, in your heart of hearts, believe it’s over?”

  “He’s going through some stuff with his brother now, and I admit, I’ve felt the tiniest bit sorry for him.”

  “Do you still have love flutters for him?”

  “Love flutters? Are you serious? I’ve got twenty minutes before Dr. Brenner gets here and you’re using technical terms like love flutters?”

  “Answer the question, Maggie.”

  “I have frustration toward Michael. Contention, bitterness, dislike, hatred at times, confusion, and remorse.”

  “Wow.” I tried to take in all those adjectives and go through them one at a time in my head, hoping to help figure out her life in three minutes or less. “Remorse, that’s a good one. Remorse for what?”

  “That we couldn’t get it right. That we shouldn’t have done anything to begin with. That he’s not who I thought I made him out in my mind. How I still love him for who he was and hate him for who he’ll never be.”

  “And that, my dear friend, is your ticket to having a great time tonight.”

  “What is?”

  “Realizing Michael is never going to be the guy you dreamed up. He is the guy you rode to Mexico with, Maggie. The toes-in-the-sand, beer-in-his-hand kind of guy. The only problem is you wanted him to turn that off and be someone else. Realizing he’s not takes a lot of pressure off you two. Let him be himself, and don’t apologize for wanting someone different. Go have a great time with Dr. Studmuffin. It’s only a date, not a marriage proposal.”

  I heard her take a deep breath. “Thanks, Sarah. I knew it was the right thing to call you. Where are you anyway?”

  “I’m in Charleston.”

  “Charleston? Why on earth are you there?”

  “Long story.”

  “I only have ten minutes to get out of my sweatpants, but I can put you on speakerphone, if you need an ear. After all, I owe you five of them.”

  “Nah, just have a good time. And don’t forget anything we talked about. You’ll do fine. I’ll be home tomorrow, and I want to hear all about it.”

  “Okay. Safe travels.”

  I pressed off the phone and looked at the fireball sun in the sky. It was making its way down. Sam walked over from the area in the back and took a seat next to me.

  “I hope you don’t mind. I heard some of the things you were saying on the phone. It was hard not to—my yard is only so big.”

  I straightened, putting my feet down on the stone. “No, I’m sorry for being rude and taking the call. We’ve just been sort of estranged for a few weeks, and I wanted to hear why she was calling.”

  “Why were you estranged?”

  “She walked into a restaurant and found me and her husband having dinner.”

  His brow stretched high. “Were you—”

  “Having dinner. We were having dinner. And they’re separated.” I shook my head.

  “Why were you having dinner? If you don’t mind me asking.”

  I continued to focus on the sun, and not on my words, as they slipped out without much thought. “I suppose I was tired of eating alone. Of never having a date. Of never having someone of my own to just text and say, ‘Out of bread and milk, pick up some on your way home.’”

  “I see.”

  I snapped out of my dream scape and remembered who I was sharing this sofa with. “I wasn’t there to snag him, or anything. Maggie’s my best friend.”

  He nodded.

  We both turned when it sounded as if we’d been invaded by the British. With cannons, and crazy horse-riders. Kids yelling broke the solitude of this majestic moment of the sun falling and water trickling. Then I saw the cannon—it was a push cart of food, like fancy restaurants use when they push around the dessert tray even though you claim you’re stuffed and can’t eat another morsel. Though instead of picture-perfect parfaits, torts, and baked Alaska, this one had hamburgers, tomatoes, onion slices, and buns. The second shelf had three different colored melons, and the third shelf had a bowl of what looked like banana pudding and a white frosted cake.

  “Darren…Patricia, what are you all doing here?” Sam stood.

  A little girl and a boy wearing swim goggles ran past us. All I could see was a streak of color and smell the whiff of chlorine that lingered behind.

  “Silly, don’t you remember? We said last week we’d bring the food if you could give Darren some pointers on his new business.”

  Sam did the classic face palm. “I did forget. Entirely. I’m so sorry. I’ve got company.”

  I stood. “No, I really have to be going.”

  “Nonsense. We’ve got enough to feed two armies. Sit down, I insist.” She thrust out her hand for me to shake. “I’m Trish, and this is Darren. Those two little buggers who just darted by are Jacob and Melanie.” She shifted her attention toward Sam. “I
hope you’ve got rugs down. Jacob’s had to use the bathroom for the last hour, but he won’t come out of that darn pool long enough to go potty. He said he’d do it over here.”

  “Okay, but Sophie’s inside si—”

  “Sophie? Why didn’t you say? I thought she’d still be horseback riding. Melanie will be so excited.”

  “Actually, she came home early sick.”

  She waved her arm. “That’s okay. Melanie rarely catches anything. It’ll be fine.”

  I looked at Sam and he gave me a “help me” look. I leaned over and whispered in his ear. “Building this patio was a great idea.”

  “Yeah, it seems to attract more than just mosquitos.”

  “The really big ones.”

  “Here you two go. Don’t be shy. Just go to the fixin’s bar and help yourself.” Just then, she yelled and nearly made me wet myself. “Kids! You get out here and grab a burger. Daddy will have them all eaten in five minutes and counting.”

  “Trish, I know I forgot about this, but do you think—”

  “I know you’ve got a lot on your mind, Sam. That’s why I did all the food.” She leaned in to me. “Plus, I’ve eaten his bean salad at the block party. Not exactly the kind you wanted the recipe, if you know what I mean.” She gently elbowed my side.

  “I got the recipe online. What could I do to bean salad?” He shrugged.

  “I think a lot. You did a lot, Sam. And it all wasn’t good.” She picked up a towel that had fallen off the cart.

  Darren, her husband, stayed at the cart, fixing his burger. He smiled when they first walked up, but I could see that’s all he was allowed to do. Trish was their shared megaphone. Just then, the kids ran from the house and grabbed two burgers and stuffed them into their mouths. I held tight to the one Trish stuffed in my hand, wondering how I was going to slip it into a napkin and save it for the trash. I was nowhere near to being hungry.

  “Forgive us, we had dinner.” Sam took my burger and set it on the plate with his.

  “No problem. Help yourself to some dessert.” She wiped the corner of her mouth, sat back on his lounge chair and propped up her feet. A loud groan exited her. “Ya’ll don’t be shy. But I would like an introduction. Seems I’ve never seen her over here before.” She tilted her head while stating the fact—kind of checking me out when she did.