What Sara Said

by Carrington, M. L.

  What Sara Said

  By M.L. Carrington

  What Sara Said is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Text copyright © 2016 by M.L. Carrington

  All Rights Reserved

  Dedication

  For anyone that has ever hoped to experience the sort of love that, amid the vastness and complexity of the heart, challenges your perception of self and deeply completes your soul.

  For ordinary housewives that long to fulfill a fantasy, lest you accept the truth in reality.

  For every extraordinary mother. Because you are extraordinary.

  To have loved once and let go, is to always wonder in your heart.

  ~ Sara Preen

  CONTENTS

  Prologue

  1. Lightning Crashes

  2. A Path Crossed, Sara

  3. A Path Crossed, Jude

  4. The Gifts

  5. Reunion

  6. Relief and Fear

  7. The Psychologist

  8. What Sara Said

  9. Imbibing and Mementos

  10. The Fall

  11. Swimming

  12. Rumination

  13. Grace

  14. While in San Francisco

  15. The Photograph

  16. What Ails You

  17. A Peanut and the Impact

  18. Eric and Jude

  19. Awake

  20. Voicemail

  21. Plans

  22. Lake Placid

  23. A New Beginning and a Dream

  24. A Promise Kept

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Prologue

  It was only a tiny fraction of that moment in time just before impact that Sara suddenly felt, all at once, every emotion she had ever experienced during her twenty-nine years of life. Every nerve ending in her youthful, energized body worked double-time and she was keenly aware of her hypersensitivity during that brief moment.

  The impact was stunning, and for a few seconds there was no sound at all. Everything seemed to occur in slow motion as her mind attempted to understand what had happened.

  Initially, there was no pain. No tactile sensation at all. Sara’s body felt as if it was suspended in a weightless state. But as she tried to right her limp head from its resting place on her shoulder, she felt a stabbing pain that radiated from the base of her skull to her tailbone. No longer weightless, her head felt astonishingly heavy, impossible to move. She sat immobilized gazing across her field of vision, and as the powdery white cloud began to dissipate, she couldn’t help but notice how absolutely serene and peaceful the snow looked glistening in the light of the streetlamp as it fell through the evening air outside her window.

  The space that moments ago was warm and thick, became frigid with the crisp air of winter as it seeped through the openings of twisted metal and broken glass. Exposed, Sara shivered. Her only comfort was in the warmth of the blood that trailed along her hairline from the top of her head toward the corner of her mouth. The silence of her cocoon rapidly diminished as muffled noise flooded in. Sara’s heart pounded in her ears, accelerating with every passing second as she panicked. Her short, panting breaths quickly morphed into long, agonizing wheezes. The tightening in her chest was relentless. It was frightening and more painful than any childbearing experience she’d endured. Sara thought about her children and the recent news of her pregnancy, which had taken her completely by surprise. Seconds passed and her mind drifted. She was fading quickly. Nearly lifeless and confused, she felt her body sink along with her heart as her mind descended through muddled memories of falling in love once, and then falling in love again.

  It was Valentine’s Day.

  1. Lightning Crashes

  Things aren’t always as they appear. Wednesday. It was a day not significantly different from every other boring day of Sara’s existence. Despite her apparent boredom, it was true that fundamentally, Sara loved her life.

  Life is grand, she thought sarcastically.

  It was mostly everything Sara had ever wanted. Eric, her husband, was a devoted father who used to display his love for her with great enthusiasm. But his job with Lyleth Pharmaceuticals often kept him working long hours, leaving little room now for any sort of romance in their relationship. As the district manager of sales, he covered several states in the Northeast and travelled a lot, but the company compensated him well, a generous six-figure salary, which allowed Sara and Eric to essentially be a single income household. Sara was what most would call a stay-at-home mom. Well, technically, she was employed, but most of her friends and family devalued the hours she worked as a nurse at the clinic. When conversing with her other stay-at-home mom friends, there was an ever-present sense that her weekend-only shifts at the clinic didn’t count. Or perhaps it was all in her head. Either way, Sara’s pay from the clinic was merely “play” money for her; disposable income that Eric neither tracked nor expected her to include in their budget.

  Their home in Lenox, Massachusetts was situated in a perfect, well-planned development and typical of what you might find on a cul-de-sac in upper-class suburbia. Sara and Eric bought their home six years earlier when Sara became pregnant with their first child. The massive, five-bedroom center hall colonial promised to accommodate their growing family. But Sara often felt that the house was a flawed reflection of her personality. With its stately red brick façade and floor-to-ceiling windows that were flanked by black shutters, it was much too extravagant for her taste and needs. In fact, the bustling home would simply be an ostentatious and unwelcoming house if it were not for the children’s toys that were scattered throughout, or the pile of dirty baby bottles and dishes that filled the kitchen sink.

  A common belief among their friends was that Sara loved to cook. And who could blame them? Sara’s gourmet kitchen begged the question ‘how could you not love to cook in here?’ Furnished with high-end stainless steel appliances made by companies whose names one can barely pronounce, it screamed “traditional elegance.” The rich cherry cabinets adorned with brushed steel hardware complimented the appliances, and the mahogany wood floor and dense custom moldings accented the cabinets quite nicely.

  Adjacent to the kitchen was a large formal dining room. An ornate Italian wood dining set and tray ceiling added to the unique style of the room, creating an elegant place to sit and enjoy a meal. However, the room was rarely used since the children made too much of a mess to allow them on the ivory-colored cushioned chairs, which were a bitch to remove stains from. Sara once allowed her daughter to eat a lunch of peanut butter and jelly at the table with some friends during a play date. What a huge mistake that was! The jelly from her sandwich refused to remain in its proper place on the bread and smothered itself over every fingertip of her tiny hand. Needless to say, when she reached for the cushion to climb off her chair, she left a stain behind that served as a permanent reminder and a sign that shouts ‘No Kids Allowed’! So the dining room had become that room; the one that’s too perfect for use, like an exhibit of the room in which the Declaration of Independence was signed, roped off for observers to look at, but not to touch.

  Sara’s daughter, Alexandra “Lexi”, was a beautiful, golden-haired, free-spirited five-year-old who floated through her young life mostly oblivious to the things around her. Before she started kindergarten, she spent much of her time singing to herself and pretending that she was a princess in a storybook, or a mother taking care of her children. Once she entered school, she developed an even broader imagination. Aided by the external influences of her classmates, am
ong other things, she returned home from school nearly every day with elaborate stories. Sara often worried about how successful her academic years would be, given Lexi’s lack of focus.

  In contrast to his older sister, eight-month-old Jacob was rather difficult, and more aware of his surroundings than Lexi. To be quite frank, he was a relentlessly picky baby; the kind of baby that you knew if he could talk, he’d tell you exactly what he wanted and how he wanted his world to be. His impatient hollering was so demanding that Sara often felt as though she could sense his thoughts pierce through her. Although Sara understood that being the mother of a baby was frequently a thankless job, she couldn’t help but feel annoyed by his persistent cries, which demanded her attention and servitude without any semblance of appreciation, as if she were his slave. Huh… slave, she thought. Sometimes being a mother felt like that. Mostly it was great, although Sara had her moments.

  Perhaps it was Sara’s own self-inflicted prison aided by society’s perception of how a stay-at-home-mom should behave that pushed her each day to fulfill an impossible ideal; the belief that she needed to be like Martha Stewart and Dr. Spock rolled into one; the perfect housewife and mother. Yes, it is a good life; the “American Dream.” Single mothers and women whose husbands beat them to a pulp on a daily basis would despise her with their jealousy of how wonderful her life was.

  And Sara often wondered if she really truly did appreciate how lucky she was.

  -----------

  Natural light flooded through the window of Eric’s rather comfortable office, which was painted off-white and decorated in a minimalist fashion. He sat at his desk and stared at the digital picture frame next to his laptop. It held a library of about two hundred of his favorite family photos. He sighed as a picture of Lexi appeared on the screen. It was taken during one of the few family trips they’d enjoyed on the British Virgin Island of Virgin Gorda. Lexi stood at the edge of the water on one of the nearly deserted white, sandy beaches with a bright right bucket and shovel in her hands while the clear, blue water lapped at her feet. She was about two and a half, and it was the first time Sara and Eric had taken her to the island. Eric would never forget the tiny giggle that filled the air as the waves tickled her toes and melted his heart every time he’d heard it. Her giggles still melted Eric’s heart. If only he could spend more time with his family without sacrificing their financial security. The pictures were a bittersweet and constant reminder of what he worked so hard for each day.

  Eric’s iPhone vibrated in the pocket of his dark grey pin striped dress pants, which distracted him from his daydream. He quickly shifted in his seat to retrieve the phone from his pocket. Glancing at the screen, Eric noticed the caller ID indication that it was his boss, Richard Stevens, calling.

  “Hi. This is Eric,” he stated as he answered the call.

  “Hey, Eric. It’s Rick.”

  “What can I do for ya?” Eric inquired.

  “Listen, I’ve got a bit of a dilemma and I was hoping you could help me out with it.”

  “Yeah, sure, sure. Whatever you need. What is it?”

  “Well, you may have already heard that we hired on another sales rep for your district.”

  “Yes, I’d heard.”

  “Her name is Colleen Quinn and I need you two to work together for a couple of weeks after she completes her orientation… sort of bring her up to speed on the way things are run.”

  Feeling rather overwhelmed with the quantity of work and length of his work days, Eric immediately worried that having to train a new employee would slow him down. “Of course. I’d be happy to,” he stated through gritted teeth.

  “She’s a relative on my wife’s side and is fresh outta college so she’ll need a bit of guidance. I need someone that I can trust to be discrete about her relationship to my family for obvious reasons. You understand, don’t you?”

  “Absolutely. Of course.”

  “Thanks a lot, Eric. She’ll be starting next week. I’ll be in touch.”

  “Talk to you soon,” Eric said just before hitting the “end call” button on the touchpad of his cell phone.

  Eric focused his thoughts back on the spreadsheet he’d been working on, which accounted for his expenses for the month, and he had just completed recent additions to the catering and meals category. He had a few more categories to edit, but knew it would take a solid half hour to finish and noticed that it was nearly 2:30 pm. He was scheduled to give a presentation about the company’s new steroid inhaler at a symposium for pulmonary medicine at 3:45 pm and the drive to the facility would likely take thirty-five minutes in good traffic. Since tardiness was one of Eric’s pet peeves, he had become an expert in time management and knew he’d need to leave within ten minutes to make it to the symposium in good time. Eric swiftly packed up his notes and advertising boards and left the office knowing that he'd be returning later that afternoon to finish up the spreadsheet and other work, which was due the next morning.

  -------------

  Music has a way of reminding us of moments in our life, significant or otherwise.

  The hard pinging of rain on the gutters outside was a growing nuisance these days. It had been raining a lot lately, unusual for August in the northeast. Music softly played from the ceiling speakers throughout the second floor of her home as Sara sat on her daughter's bed, mindlessly folding laundry. A jazz song with a strong saxophone melody, which she and Eric often made love to, was drawing to its end, but Sara had been ignoring it altogether. Just for something different, she’d decided to put her mp3 library on shuffle mode instead of listening to her usual playlist. The jazz song evaporated and as Lightning Crashes by Live filled the air, a vivid memory flooded into her mind.

  It made sense to her since the song was one from a band she’d listened to endlessly during the time when Sara experienced her first real love. She allowed her mind to wander.

  It was late at night, probably nine or ten o’clock, and Sara lay tentatively on the bed that belonged to Jude Warner. Lightning Crashes played through the stereo, which rested on his dresser. Various pieces of his purple and gold football uniform, which displayed the number eighteen and St. Joseph High School’s mascot, the “Crusader” were strewn on the floor amidst the darkness of the room, which was lit only by a dim lamp on the nightstand. Sara and Jude were seventeen years old. Neither had much experience when it came to sexual matters. Although Sara had been kissed before, she rarely got beyond first base so the venture was a new experience for her, and they were both nervous.

  They’d been secretly dating for about two months, but they were best friends for several years, having known each other since elementary school. They kept their relationship a secret because Jude’s parents, who were devout Catholics, didn't approve of Sara’s religious beliefs. Jude’s family was among the few in their neighborhood that were so passionate about religion that it made Sara feel like she was the minority for her lack of faith in a god. Jude’s parents even tried to set up blind dates for him with other girls from his church. They never thought that Jude and Sara would become involved since, for several years, their friendship was more like that of brother and sister. He was her best friend for so long, and he seemed to know her so well, sometimes better than she understood herself. But as they matured into adolescents, it was nearly impossible for Sara and Jude to avoid falling in love with each other. They were drawn to each other mentally from the very beginning of their friendship, and the drive toward each other eventually became physical in nature as the adolescent psyche and hormonal changes overcame them.

  Lying next to Sara, Jude rolled onto his side and stroked her cheek with his cool and clammy hand, so gently that she could barely feel it. It was a delicate and sensual gesture on his part in an effort to gain her trust, and she welcomed the contact. The room suddenly felt much warmer; hot even. Sara felt her body begin to perspire and there was a slight acceleration to her breathing, which she hoped wasn’t too noticeable. He cocked his head to the side slightly to m
eet her eyes. There was something extraordinary about Jude that compelled her to be with him. As they gazed at each other, his expression became soft and he grinned a little, as if he somehow knew exactly what she was feeling and was proud of it.

  Jude was different, and not just in the way that he stood out in a crowd. He was assistant captain of the football and lacrosse teams, and a straight-A student with sound moral values. But there was something more and at the time, Sara couldn’t quite figure it out. It was strange the way he would look at her and occasionally become uneasy when they touched, but she assumed he was simply nervous in those moments.

  Sara felt her pulse quicken ever so slightly as their eyes continued to lock on each other’s, measuring what their next moves would be. She was a little unsure of herself. Neither one of them had spoken a word in a short time, but it felt like it had been hours. What were the rules here? Should she make the first move so that he knows she wants this too? The atmosphere grew painfully uncomfortable while Sara mentally planned out her next moves. Perhaps she should overdo it and show him how uncharacteristically dominant she can be. In an attempt at seduction, she would nudge him on his back while pulling herself on top of him, and straddle his hips with her legs as she leaned toward him to join their lips. She was ready to execute her plan but when she shifted her weight to reposition, Sara and Jude heard the jingling of keys as they were tossed onto the end table in the front hallway, followed by the distinct clamor of the front door closing.

  “Shit,” he said, “my parents!”

  “What should I …?” Sara muttered, but she stopped in mid-sentence upon seeing the panic of Jude’s expression.

  Before Sara could get his attention again, Jude scrambled off the bed and rushed down the stairs to confirm his suspicions. She could hear their voices down the hall and began to speculate what she would say if they found her there. Perhaps she should just sneak out. Mr. and Mrs. Warner were older with more traditional rules, which, of course, included the familiar rule of prohibiting girls in Jude’s bedroom.