She and Sam were the first to leave. He’d been the perfect, attentive date, and once she overcame her blunder, she had enjoyed his company.
They stopped at her car, and he opened the door. “This has been great. We need to do it again. Soon.”
“You mean work with the puppet committee?”
“No. Go on a date.”
Sadie glanced at Sam to see if he was kidding. The dimple hovering near his lips confused her. “But this was a pretend date, remember?”
“It didn’t feel like one to me. So, what do you say? I’ll still take my cue from you about the handholding and kissing part.”
A giggle bubbled up and a surge of warmth radiated from her midsection. Maybe it was time to let down the drawbridge of her heart. A teeny bit. Passion had been locked away for so long. Eyes on his face, she slid behind the wheel. “Fine. But we’ll take it slowly.”
The streetlight accentuated his dimple. “Great. I’ll go as slow as you want—within reason.” He removed a small card from his wallet. “Here’s my cell number.”
She took the card on which he had scrawled numbers, and caught a glimpse of the photo of a woman and child in his wallet. Sadie’s euphoria subsided. She’d almost forgotten her initial doubts and suspicions. But he’d explained why he lied, and if they dated, she could keep an eye on him.
“Thanks. I’ll check my calendar and pencil you in.”
Sam returned his wallet to his back pocket. “Hope you can find a spot for me.” He closed her door.
After she turned on the ignition, she lowered the window. “Are you working tomorrow?”
He rested his forearm on the opened window. “Yeah. You?”
Sadie glanced at the dark curly hair on his arm and nodded.
“See you then.” He straightened and then lowered his head again. “By the way. When did you check out that puppet website?”
When, indeed? They’d come straight to Kyle’s from work, and Sam knew employees had no access to personal computers at Rhodes.
Another lie. “At home after church.” Sadie dared not look at Sam, so she fussed with the seatbelt.
He patted the roof of her car. “OK, then. Drive carefully. See you tomorrow.”
As she drove away, the weight of her deception lay heavy on her soul.
****
Louise Gaffney came by the next morning while Sadie consumed her second mug of coffee.
She sat across the small dining table from Sadie, her white hair wrapped around tiny green sponge rollers, her feet engulfed by fluffy mauve slippers. “Heard you up and about, dear, and came to visit.”
“How’s the packing?”
Before Louise could answer, her cell phone chirped. She slid it out of her housecoat pocket.
While her visitor chatted, Sadie drained her coffee mug, finished off a bowl of granola, and then carried her dishes to the kitchen.
A frown added to the deep wrinkles on Louise’s forehead as she ended the call. “Drat. That was Pete Williams. He’s right outside and wants another look at the apartment.” She patted her rolled hair, blue eyes wide. “I can’t let him see me like this.”
“I’ll meet him while you take the rollers out.”
She shuffled to the bathroom and said over her shoulder, “Thank you dear. Tell him I’ll be right out.”
As Sadie closed her front door, a tall, redheaded man in a dark suit strode across the lawn. He straightened his tie and slowed as he neared the building. Furrows marred his freckled brow for a second.
Sadie moved closer to Mrs. Gaffney’s door. “Hi, are you Pete Williams?”
“I’ve come to see Louise Gaffney.”
“She’ll be out in a minute. I’m Debra Johnson.” She extended her hand, which he clasped in a quick shake. “I believe you plan to move in right away.”
“Yes. We’ve been staying with Janelle’s folks in San Antonio and can’t wait to get our own place. I started my job here two weeks ago.”
Sadie took note of his black leather briefcase.
He glanced at his watch. “I don’t have much time, but I need to take measurements. The in-laws bought us a bedroom suite with an enormous headboard and oversized dresser. Need to make sure the pieces can be maneuvered down the hall and into the bedroom.”
Louise’s apartment had the same floor plan as Sadie’s. The short narrow hall and sharp turn into the bedroom could pose a problem. She crossed her arms and gave Pete a reassuring nod. “She won’t be long.”
Right on cue, Louise joined them, her hair now in soft curls. “Thank you, dear.” She took keys from her pocket. “Come on in, Pete.”
He seemed to be a nice enough guy, and his reasons for moving so quickly made perfect sense. No need to worry.
Sadie returned to her kitchen and cleaned up. Dishes washed, sack lunch of left-over chicken and salad prepared, she still had an hour before she needed to leave for Rhodes.
Sadie wandered through her small abode, straightening a cushion here, closing a magazine there, and ended up in the bedroom. On the nightstand lay Sam’s card with his handwritten phone number. She plopped on the bed and picked up the card. She’d already programmed the number into her cell phone but couldn’t throw away this connection to him. It conjured up his face, his voice. But the photograph of his deceased wife and child interrupted her musing.
An elephantine weight plunged her spirit into an arctic lake. Associating with Sam took her on a wild ride of pleasant possibilities to dark reminders of the past.
Sadie jumped to her feet and threw open the closet door. Shoving aside hanging blouses and slacks, she located the small gray door of the apartment’s electrical control panel. Her hand shook as she popped it open. She eased off the laminated instruction sheet from inside the door and hesitated.
But she had to see it one more time. The dog-eared picture of her, Aaron, and Hannah slid into her hand. Her darling little girl. Her wonderful husband. The only photograph she had of them. Against orders, she’d secretly kept it. If Griff or anyone from WITSEC knew, they’d destroy it and reprimand her for her foolishness. But she couldn’t let it go. It was her one link to the past.
The last time she’d looked at the photo had been about eight months ago. Hannah’s birthday. The same day she’d visited Hillcrest Church for the first time. With hands that trembled, Sadie held the photo to her chest for an agonizing moment. Then she planted a kiss on the picture and returned it to its hiding place. She closed the gray door and scooted the hangers back in place across the rod.
Sadie backed out of the closet and tromped to the bathroom to splash cold water on her face. But Mrs. Gaffney’s green rollers filled the sink. The sight brought on the giggles, and Sadie collapsed onto the tiled floor.
When the mix of mirth and grief subsided, she scrambled up and examined her face in the mirror. Good thing she had time to repair the damage. While removing mascara streaks, she analyzed her reaction to seeing the photo again. The old haunting pain hadn’t paralyzed her this time. Instead of wallowing in self-pity, she’d focused on the good times they’d experienced. If levelheaded Aaron could talk to her now, he’d probably advise her to move on. He wouldn’t want her to grieve forever.
Makeup repaired, curls tamed, she gathered the rollers together and found a plastic bag in the kitchen.
After Sadie knocked several times, Louise opened the door. “So sorry, dear. I was on the phone with Bonnie. Come in.”
Sadie held up the bag. “I don’t have time to visit, I have to get to work. But I brought these back.”
“Oh, my rollers. Thanks, dear.” She took the bag. “I forgot all about them. Pete kept me busy. He asked a lot of questions about you.”
Although Sadie had already stepped away from the door, she stopped at Louise’s words. “Really? What kind of questions?”
“Oh, you know, the usual. What sort of neighbor are you? How long have you been here? Stuff like that.”
Sounded harmless enough, but Sadie’s caution meter kicked into gear.
So much for her earlier complacency. She’d have to keep alert around the new neighbors. “See you tomorrow.”
Sadie collected her lunch sack, jacket, and purse. With keys in hand, she rounded the corner of her apartment unit, but a movement by the maintenance shed caught her eye. Two men conversed in angry tones. One pointed to the other then threw his arms in the air. Meandering between vehicles, Sadie kept her eyes on the men. They looked familiar. Then she recognized the dark suit—Pete Williams. Who was his companion? Near her car, she punched the remote. The beep-beep alerted them, and they both glanced towards her.
In that instant, she recognized the other man. Kyle Nelson from Hillcrest church.
They locked gazes across the parking lot for a few seconds before the two men slipped out of sight behind the shed.
7
The sight of Kyle arguing with her new neighbor stuck with Sadie all the way to work. Were they friends? Did Kyle invite Pete to Hillcrest? Paranoia had free reign in her mind until she parked in Rhodes’ employee lot. She told herself to get a grip. Two men arguing—but Kyle’s odd behavior the night before and Pete’s questions to Mrs. Gaffney hung in the air.
April’s knock on Sadie’s window yanked her back to reality, and she climbed out of the car.
While they entered the store, April regaled Sadie with Victor’s latest request to live together. “But I’m sticking to my principles. I told him if he’s serious, then he better start thinking about our future.”
Approaching the break room, she drew Sadie aside. “We’re going to the South by Southwest Music Festival this weekend. Want to join us? Oscar’s coming.”
“Sounds like fun. I’ll get back to you after I check my work schedule.”
By the time they clocked in, Sadie had relegated Kyle and Pete to the back of her mind.
New plant arrivals kept her focused on the job for several hours. On her way to the break room, Oscar waylaid her as she passed through the plumbing section.
He fell in step beside her. “How was your weekend?”
“Good.” Remembering Sam’s attentiveness from the previous night sent a mini-quiver to her stomach. “How about you?”
Oscar didn’t seem to hear her question. He cleared his throat and focused on the floor. “Um, Debra, I’ve been wondering. Can you, I mean, would you care to go out for coffee or something?”
Sadie had been expecting this for a while. She’d often caught him watching her with interest or found him included in the group when April invited her places. Like the recent request.
At the end of the isle, she stopped and turned, hoping her smile conveyed sincerity. “Oh, Oscar, I’m sorry. I don’t think so.” She stuck her hands in her pockets and focused on the collar of his shirt. “You see, there’s someone else.”
Who would have thought she’d be thankful for Sam’s pretend date? She liked Oscar, but her pulse didn’t race at his invitation.
“It’s the new guy, isn’t it? It’s Sam.” Oscar hit his palm to his forehead. “I knew it. I’m too late.”
Agreeing wouldn’t be a lie. She and Sam had one date, and he’d hinted he wanted to ask her out again. “I’m sorry, Oscar.”
His sad puppy-dog eyes snagged a piece of her heart.
“He’s a lucky guy.” Oscar loped off around the corner.
Sadie continued to the break room, deep in thought. As she turned down the last aisle, Sam popped up in front of her.
“Hello.”
“Hi.”
“I hear you were asked out on a date.”
Try as she might, she couldn’t take her eyes off his dimple-creased cheek. Or the dark curl that fell across his forehead, or the tiny razor nick marking his firm chin.
Her face tingled, and she self-consciously adjusted her glasses. “How do you know?”
With his hand on her arm, Sam accompanied her to the break room. “I overheard Oscar.”
She swatted his hand but said nothing.
“So, Miss Debra, am I the someone else?”
Freeing her arm, she ignored his chuckles and entered the room.
****
The evening chill sent a shiver slinking through Sadie.
Sam slipped his arm around her shoulders and escorted her into El Capitán, a Mexican restaurant several blocks from Rhodes. His shift had ended two hours before hers, and he’d gone home to change into brown slacks and a blue shirt.
However, she still wore jeans and a rose pink T-shirt.
At lunch he’d invited her, and she agreed to meet him at the restaurant. They were directed to a table along the mural-covered wall. Once seated, they perused the menus, surrounded by hints of chili and cinnamon.
During the meal, Sadie took the opportunity to pump Sam for information. Although he shared few personal stories, Sadie did learn a little more about him. He loved football, kept in shape by kickboxing and pummeling a punching bag, and knew how to make a girl feel special. She appreciated his attentiveness. This pretend date wasn’t so bad after all.
Sam set his knife and fork across his empty plate. “Those enchiladas were real good, but I prefer Calif…”
Sadie wiped her mouth and waited for him to complete his sentences, but he took a gulp of tea and examined the mural. “Prefer what?”
He cleared his throat. “You know, Mexican food differs from state to state.”
“I agree, but when were you in California?”
Sam’s shoulder muscles looked tense. Why would her question about California affect him so?
“Remember I told you I was raised in foster care. One family I lived with took us on vacation there.” He gulped the last of his tea. “So, when do you think the puppet group will want the stage?”
Well done, Sam. He’d answered and changed the subject without blinking. Sadie understood his reluctance to discuss his time in foster care. He must be telling the truth.
“You can ask them on Saturday night. Kyle wants to meet again, and everyone is coming over to my place.”
Sylvia had called Sadie as she left Rhodes and she’d reluctantly agreed to host the meeting.
“Sounds like a plan.”
When they finished their decaf coffee and chocolate cake, he followed her to her car.
“I had a good time. Thanks, Sam.”
He took her hand. Nothing as dramatic as electric sparks traveled up her arm, but the heat from his touch radiated through her. He gazed at her face and slowly lowered his head. A kiss? She wasn’t ready.
But he drew her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers. She relaxed and sighed, the soft touch of his lips sending a shiver of pleasure down her spine.
He released her hand and raised his eyebrows, as if he knew the effect his action had caused. “See you tomorrow?”
“I’m working a half day. I’ll be in about three.” She slid behind the wheel.
Sam gave her a nod and disappeared across the parking lot.
Sadie slumped against the seat and rubbed the hand he’d kissed. Whew. She’d have to lasso her heart and keep a tight rein on it.
On the way home, she fantasized about another date, but by the time she parked, she’d shaken the scenarios away and reminded herself she knew little about Sam.
Although still early, Sadie prepared for bed and snuggled under the covers with her laptop balanced on her knees. In the morning, she’d visit the children’s shelter. For each trip, she took along a story she’d written, featuring characters named after children at the center. The kids loved to hear their names. She had a few more pages to compose for tomorrow’s visit.
The hours slid by and at midnight, she turned off the light.
Dreams featuring Rhodes’ co-workers and long ago foster families peppered her night. She awoke and dressed, disappointed Sam hadn’t made his way into her subconscious.
Eager young faces greeted her at the shelter.
Carmen Rios, the director, gave her a list of newcomers so she could include their names in the story.
On the way to the indoor play
area, Sadie asked, “Has a Sam Boudine ever called you? He may want to volunteer.”
Carmen frowned and shook her head. “Sorry. Name’s not familiar.”
Interesting. Maybe he changed his mind. Sadie would have to quiz him at their next meeting. Once seated, she wrote the names in gaps she’d purposely left blank and then gathered the kids around her.
They squealed and clapped as she read, and then they wanted the story repeated. After the third rendition, Sadie gave the pages to Carmen and joined the kids in outdoor games.
Close to noon, she hugged each child and then returned home for a salad lunch and a quick visit with Louise.
At Rhodes, time hung heavy on her hands. Dreary, gray skies must have kept shoppers at home since few people visited the garden center. Sadie took the opportunity to pick up a promotion application packet from Julian and tucked it in her locker.
Sam entered the break room, his mood as gloomy as the weather. The nod he gave her served as his greeting. He pounded the bank of lockers with his fist. The metal fixtures rattled like a dragon’s loose teeth. “Blast.” His back to her, he hung his head.
“Sam?” She took a hesitant step his direction. “What’s wrong?”
A mammoth sigh escaped, and he turned. The muscles along his jaw clenched. “I almost got fired because I’m late, but you’ll never believe what happened.” He paced liked a trapped lion.
Sadie sat at a table and patted the chair next to her. “Come sit. Tell me about it.”
He hauled the chair out and sank into it, his posture rigid. “I should have been here hours ago, but I had two flat tires.” He thumped the table. “Two.”
Sadie flinched at his action but concentrated on his face. “What was wrong with the tires?”
At first, Sam glared at her as if he’d forgotten he had an audience. Then his mouth softened and his eyes focused. “I’m sorry for ranting, but it’s so strange. One tire had a nail in it. OK, I can buy that, but the other had been slashed.”
Weep In The Night Page 5