Don filled the silence. “Can you tell us how he died?”
“You know how it is with homeless folks, Don. He was sick, but he refused see a doctor. I don’t know the actual cause of death. You could check with the county coroner.”
Sadie began to shake. Her sobs increased. By the time she'd gotten control of herself again, he'd hung up the phone
“I’m so sorry,” Don said.
She still couldn’t speak.
“Kate will call the coroner, see if she can figure out what they did with his...with him. She’ll call me when she has more information.”
“Thank you.”
“Sure.”
She sat up, wiped her eyes again, and blew her nose. “Thank you for...for caring enough about him to take his picture.”
“They’re all somebody’s son or daughter, father or mother, sister or brother. Somebody loves them. God loves them.”
Sadie nodded again, sniffed, and grabbed a fresh tissue. Then she uttered an hysterical laugh. “I came to tell you I’d sell.”
“We won’t worry about that today.”
“But you said—”
“It’ll keep a few weeks. No rush. We’ll talk again after the holidays.”
She nodded her thanks.
“Is there someone I can call for you?”
“No. Nobody. I’ll just...I’ll...” She had no idea what she would do.
“You can’t go back to that empty house, all alone. Where’s your family?”
She thought of Max first. Brushed off the thought. “Mom lives in New Hampshire.”
“Are you going home for Christmas?”
“I wasn’t planning on it.”
“So where will you spend the holiday?”
“Probably the homeless shelter.”
Don frowned, looked at the picture sitting on her lap, and shook his head. “Your father wouldn’t want that for you. Do you have the money for a flight?”
“No.”
“The train?”
She shook her head. “No big deal. I’ll just—”
“Go home. Pack what you need. I’ll pick you up in...” He checked his watch. “An hour and a half. Enough time?”
“But—”
“It’s a long trip. Don’t make me wait.”
13
Max compared the number on his screen to the amount he’d jotted down on his notepad. Could that be true? Had his business really expanded that much this year? He’d known they were busier than ever, but this was better than he’d expected.
He should feel good about those numbers, but they did nothing to alleviate that empty feeling in his gut. Just made it worse, actually, because he knew that his business had only grown as much as it had because he’d had nothing better to do than drum up new clients. That’s what happened when a person had no life.
Max straightened the papers on his desk and stretched. He’d done as much as he could tonight. The final year-end numbers would have to be prepared after the first, not that much would change between now and then. The last week of December was always slow.
He’d sent his employees home at noon. They’d hardly gotten any work done that morning, anyway, all eager to start celebrating Christmas with their families.
The clock on the far wall ticked loudly. It was almost eight o’clock. The Christmas Eve service had ended half an hour ago, and Max had skipped it tonight for the first time since college.
His parents had probably been occupied with his brother, his sister-in-law, and their two perfect kids. He rubbed the back of his neck. Maybe they hadn’t noticed he was missing. He was always the third wheel, anyway, or the fifth, or, in this case, the seventh.
There was soft knock on the main office’s door. Probably Mom, here to make him feel guilty for skipping the service. He crossed the programmer’s office and pulled the door open.
Sadie stood in the hallway, biting her lip. “Hey.”
Warmth started in his chest and radiated out to his tingling fingertips. He wiped suddenly damp palms on his jeans and stepped back. “What are you doing here?”
“Here, as in New Hampshire, or here, as in on your doorstep?”
He remained silent.
“Your mom told me where I could find you.”
He took in her slacks, her red, very touchable sweater, and the mascara framing her green eyes. “You saw her at church?”
“Uh-huh. Can I come in?”
“Right. Sorry.”
She took in the unlit lights strung along the ceiling and the dark Christmas tree in the corner.
“My assistant went a little crazy this year.”
“Why aren’t they on?”
He wouldn’t tell her the decorations were too cheerful for his frame of mind. Instead, he stuck the plug into the outlet near the door, powering about fifty strings of lights. “They’re a little much.”
She smiled in the multi-colored glow. “Not at all.”
In the sudden brightness, the clutter on his programmers’ desks glared. How could they work in that mess?
He nodded toward the door at the back of the room. “Let’s sit in my office.”
Instead of taking one of the chairs across from his desk, Sadie settled on the couch against the wall. “I like how you’ve decorated this place. It suits you.”
“Thanks.”
She looked beautiful, her hair all curly, falling over her shoulders, and those amazing green eyes.
“So you decided to come home for Christmas after all.”
“Aren’t you going to sit down?”
He perched on the edge of his desk. “What’s new?” He'd tried to sound casual and ended up sounding like an idiot.
“I got home late Friday night.”
Three days ago. “How long are you staying?”
She shifted in her seat. “I have to tell you a story.”
“OK. Go ahead.”
“There’s something I didn’t tell you before.” Her leg bounced, her sparkly black shoe reflecting the fluorescents on the ceiling. “Right after Grandma died, a man offered to buy my house. He’d been buying up the block for a while, turning the houses into rentals, and he was trying to buy the last bunch of properties. He wanted to build condos, and apparently, my block was perfect. Lots of older homes, lots of rentals. Few of the homes had been updated. Anyway, obviously, I turned him down.”
“Obviously.”
“Right. So after the storm, he offered to buy it again, for the same price. My neighbors jumped at the offer, but...”
Max leaned forward. “You felt like you needed to stay.”
“I did. But my neighbors needed to sell. I was...” Her voice cracked, and she looked at her knees.
He resisted the urge to move to her side, to comfort her. Tread carefully.
“I was so selfish.”
Maybe. But her need to find her father trumped everything else. Everyone else. Even him. “You just want to find your dad.”
“Yes, well, I never did get a job.”
She seemed to be waiting for a reaction. What was he supposed to say?
“I went to that guy’s office to sell my house on Friday.”
He crossed the room and perched on the arm of the couch. Close, but not close enough. “I’m sorry. I know how hard that must’ve been for you.”
Tears streamed down her cheeks, but a smile lit her face. “You don’t understand. I found him, Max.”
“You...what?”
“I found my father.” Sadie told him a story about office walls lined with pictures, a table piled high with memory albums, and one perfect photograph.
“Don called the shelter in Miami where he’d taken the picture, and the lady there told us...” She took a hitching breath. “He’s dead. He died in 2008.”
Max slid onto the couch beside her and took her hands. “Sadie, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s OK. I’m OK. I’m just glad I know the truth. She told me he never stopped looking for us, he just couldn’t figure out how to get
home.”
Max opened his arms, and she fell against his chest. He ran his hand down her hair, rubbed her back, and pulled in her scent while she cried onto his shoulder.
She sat back. “I’m OK.” She pulled a tissue from her pocket with a little chuckle. “I’ve cried so much these past few weeks that I’ve started carrying tissues with me.”
“Good plan.”
“I’m so sorry, Max. I treated you horribly. I had no right to expect you to rescue me.”
“It’s OK. Really.”
“It’s not. You were right about everything. Moving to Staten Island to take care of my grandmother—God was behind that. I’d prayed about it, and I knew. But when Don offered to buy my house, I dug in my heels and refused to consider it. To think, all along, he held the key to finding my dad. He made the first offer on the house about two weeks after Grandma died. If I’d agreed to sell then...” She shook her head, wiped another tear. “God was pointing me in the right direction all along, but I was so stubborn. Think of all the time I’ve wasted.”
“But you’re home now?” Every nerve is his body seemed poised for an answer. “You’re home for good?”
“I have to go back and pack the house up. Then I’m going to live with Mom until I can find a job and get a place of my own.”
He released the breath he’d been holding. “Good. Thank God.”
“I was hoping...can you ever forgive me for how I treated you? I was so rude to you that last night, and then I avoided your phone calls. I kept thinking I’d call you when I got a job. But then I never did. And...I don’t expect you to still, you know...”
He grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet, wrapping his free hand around her back and pulling her close. “You don’t expect what, Sadie?”
Her lips parted, as if maybe she’d been about to say something.
He didn’t give her the chance. He kissed her, tentatively at first. But when he felt her hands touch his chest and then his neck, he drew her closer. Her fingers twined in his hair, and he deepened the kiss until he had to pull away, stifling a groan as he did. His voice was gruff when he spoke. “Is that what you didn’t expect?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
He rested his forehead against hers. “Sadie McLaughlin, I love you.”
“Even after everything?”
“I’ve loved you for sixteen years. Do you really think one small disagreement could destroy that?”
“I wasn’t sure.”
He kissed the tip of her nose. “I would really like to have a fourth date with you.”
She uttered a little half-laugh, half-sob. “OK. That sounds good.”
“And after that, a fifth,” he said, whispering in her hair. “Eventually a tenth. And when the time is right...” He brushed her hair away from her face and met her eyes. “When you’re finished grieving for your father, I’ll ask you to marry me.”
Sadie nodded through her tears. “Max, when the time is right, I’ll say yes. Merry Christmas, my love.”
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