Key Change: an Assignment: Romance novel

by Barbara Valentin

  As they got older, I kept their schedules so jam-packed with Scouts, sports, and school, that again, I felt too guilty to make them do chores. I know, I know—bad move. Is it any wonder they avoid eye contact with me as I read off my to-do list on Saturday mornings?

  Please believe me when I tell you, I did it all out of love. Perhaps you'll understand better once you have children of your own.

  I. Can't. Wait.

  Well, anyway. Sorry to be so long-winded. I'm sure I'll be thrilled to finally meet you when the time comes!

  Hugs,

  Your Future Mother-in-Law

  P.S. It's a size 6. Just sayin'…

  Sara handed the paper back to Claire. "Stellar. One of your best."

  "Honest?"

  After Sara nodded, Claire stood as she blew out a sigh of relief. Then, all of the sudden, the smile left her face, and she sucked in a breath.

  "What's wrong?" Sara stood and put a hand on Claire's elbow. "You OK?"

  With a smile slowly creeping back over her mouth, Claire took Sara's hand and placed it on her belly.

  Unable to pull it away, Sara was astounded by how firm it was. Almost as if Claire really did have a basketball under her shirt.

  Then she felt something move under her palm.

  One gasp and her eyes flooded as they met Claire's. "Wow," she said, though the word itself never made it out of her mouth.

  Grinning at her friend, Claire squeezed Sara's hand before releasing it and said, "Thanks for the feedback. I'll let you get back to work."

  Before she left, Claire turned and asked, "Hey, did you get Mattie's message? No fittings tomorrow."

  All Sara could do was nod. And try for the bazillionth time to beat her regret back into submission. She had almost done it too. By the time choir practice rolled around, she was feeling mighty fine about the weekend sprawling eventless in front of her—that is, until practice ended.

  Andrew had just said, "See you Sunday, everybody," when Glynnis gushed, "Sara, this is my grandson, Jamison. Isn't he darling? My daughter is driving me home tonight and brought him in for a visit."

  Before Sara could react, Glynnis thrust the bundled-up infant into her arms.

  She awkwardly held the baby away from her, doing all she could to avoid looking into the little cherub's face.

  Oh. My. God.

  While the other mothers and grandmothers in the choir busied themselves with putting their music away and getting their coats on, Sara was looking for someone to hand the baby off to when Andrew of all people swept him out of her arms.

  Holding him like a pro, he looked into the angelic little face and asked, "Hey, who do we have here, huh?"

  She watched in stunned silence as he tickled under the infant's chubby cheek with his finger, eliciting a smile from the baby and coos from the women now surrounding him. When he made eye contact with Sara and smiled, she felt as if she had taken a bullet to the chest.

  I gotta get outta here.

  Leaving her music on her chair, she slipped out of the nearest exit and headed for Lake Shore Drive. At each stoplight along the way, she texted a different friend, groping for a way to distract herself from the wave of baby-induced anxiety she felt building up inside of her.

  Given the hour, she didn't even try Claire.

  She tried Nancy instead. Whatcha doing?

  Interviewing hot chef. Ttyl, Nancy replied.

  Mattie, too, was apparently busy. @ track meet with Nick.

  Of course.

  Even Aubrey wasn't available. Visiting my nana. U OK?

  Out of options, she took Foster Avenue to the southbound Lake Shore Drive entrance ramp. Somewhere between Irving Park Road and North Avenue, she realized she had nowhere to go but home.

  By the time she heard Andrew slide his key into the lock, she was already in her snowflake pajama bottoms and long-sleeved Green Bay Packers T-shirt, wrapped tightly within the blankets of the opened sleeper sofa, staring out at the snow falling in front of the bay window of the darkened apartment.

  She didn't turn to greet him. Not when she heard him open and close the foyer closet to put his coat away and not when she heard him set his keys onto the kitchen counter. Not even when she sensed him stop on his way down the hall and whisper her name.

  She didn't move. Not until she heard the bedroom door click closed behind him.

  * * *

  There was no denying Andrew loved kids. Close to all of his nieces and nephews, he cherished any time he could spend with them from the time they were newborns on, which might explain why working with the children's choir was, hands down, his favorite part of the job. And it was one of the things he had loved about Leanne. She had such a way with them. It was just too bad she didn't want to make any with him. Or anyone else for that matter, apparently.

  It might also explain why he confiscated Glynnis's grandson from Sara's arms when it looked like she didn't want any part of it.

  In the few weeks they had been living together, he wasn't surprised that the topic of kids hadn't come up. Given what he did know about her, he also wouldn't be surprised to learn that she wasn't interested in having a family of her own. Still, he had never seen her look at him the way she did before leaving the church. Like he had broken her heart.

  He got out of there as quickly as he could, not that he expected to find her at home, but he hoped that she'd be there. There was so much he wanted to ask her. So much he was hoping she'd share with him. If only she'd let him in.

  Disappointed to come home to an empty apartment, he debated waiting up for her as he made his way down the hall into the kitchen area.

  The last thing he expected was to find her already asleep. And on the sofa sleeper when it was her turn to take the bedroom. Still, with a wedding scheduled for the next morning, perhaps it was best if he turned in early. So, after checking to see if she might still be awake, that's exactly what he did.

  Three hours later, though, he woke up with a start and looked around his dark room, his heart pounding in his chest.

  What in the world?

  He thought he heard a sound coming from the other side of the door. Or did he dream it? Deciding to investigate, Andrew slipped his pajama bottoms on and slowly opened the door.

  The first thing he noticed was a faint glow coming from the living room. As he got closer, he saw it was coming from the TV in the corner. An old black and white movie was playing. In it, a guy in black tie and tails was talking to a pretty blonde woman in a feathery white dress. Or maybe he was singing to her. Andrew couldn't tell because the volume was so low.

  The room felt cold, and he wished he had pulled a T-shirt on.

  He glanced at Sara. By all appearances, she seemed to be asleep. She was in the same position as when he came home earlier, but this time there was a small mountain of used tissues next to her pillow, and the remote was in her hand. He carefully tugged it from her grasp and pushed the power button.

  "Oh, don't turn it off," she mumbled. "This is my favorite part."

  Andrew turned it back on and then watched as she pushed herself to a sitting position.

  Without looking at him, she threw back the blankets covering the spot next to her and patted the mattress.

  He climbed in next to her and pulled the blankets high around him to ward off the cold.

  Before he could say anything, she took the remote from him and turned up the volume. After a few minutes of watching the couple dance while the guy sang a song about being in heaven and dancing cheek-to-cheek, he stole a glance at her. The wistful look on her face tugged at him. He looked back at the screen and saw the pair break into a tap dance then leap through the air across a lofty dance floor.

  "Think we should try that next Saturday night? I bet we could pull it off."

  At this, Sara let out a shadow of laugh that was loaded with regret.

  When the on-screen pair finished dancing, she clicked off the TV. Even in the dim light coming through the bay window at that late hour, he could see tha
t she looked like she might cry.

  "I was just kidding about the dancing," he offered, hoping to get a smile out of her.

  If anything, it had the opposite effect.

  She took a deep breath and with chin starting to wobble, exhaled, "Andrew."

  "Yeah?"

  As tired as he was, he had a feeling whatever he could get out of her would be worth the exhaustion he'd feel tomorrow.

  But she just gave her head a quick shake and whispered, "Never mind."

  "Are you sure? Did I happen to mention that I'm a great listener?"

  When she didn't respond, he nudged her shoulder with his.

  Nothing.

  So he waited.

  After a few quiet minutes, she took his hand and looked into his face. "Stay with me?"

  Andrew reached over and cupped her cheek with his other hand. "Are you OK?"

  She leaned into his touch. "I just want to sleep with you. Really sleep. No fooling around, I promise."

  He felt a smile tug at his mouth. "Well, when you put it that way."

  And with that, they both sank back under the blankets.

  The next morning, Sara woke up with a smile on her face in the first time since…well, since the weekend before when she slept with Andrew the first time. Both times, she slept like a rock. Today, though, she was surprised to find it was already 11:45.

  And that she was alone.

  Oh.

  She floated to the bathroom. Once she flipped the light on, she saw a note taped to the mirror written in what looked to be hurried handwriting. Have a wedding at 10:30 and a funeral at 2:00. Catch you later.

  That was it. No greeting. No x's and o's.

  Well, at least he left a note.

  She took a deep breath, set it on the counter, and stepped into the shower, enjoying the pleasant buzz of excitement she couldn't shake even if she wanted to. Best of all, any guilty feelings from the day before had vanished entirely.

  * * *

  Playing Pachelbel's "Canon in D" as he had for countless weddings before, Andrew saw bridesmaid after bridesmaid make their way up the long aisle in the middle of the flower-festooned church out of the corner of his eye. When the bride and her father followed, all in attendance stood, and Father Steve started the Mass.

  But Andrew's mind was miles away. Eight to be exact. He wondered if Sara was still sleeping and wished above all else that he had been able to stay with her. He didn't have the heart to wake her up before he left.

  At least I left a note.

  "Do you take this woman to be your lawful wife…?" The words drifted to where Andrew was sitting. Lifting his eyes from the music in front of him, he watched as the mother of the bride dabbed at hers while her husband sat beaming beside her.

  How easy it was for him to picture his own parents sitting there. Well, across the aisle since he'd be the groom. He caught himself wondering who would be sitting on Sara's side besides, maybe, friends from work.

  Snap out of it.

  Just because they had slept together again, it didn't mean they were destined for the altar. Still, it was a hell of a lot more than he had ever done with Leanne, and look what that had gotten him.

  As soon as the Mass ended, the happy couple made their way down the aisle.

  As soon as Andrew finished playing Charles Callahan's "The Rejoicing" from Suite in G, he slipped off of the organ bench and texted one of his backup musicians, asking if she could fill in for the rest of the day.

  * * *

  Engrossed in concert listings, Sara stood at the kitchen counter, staring at her open laptop and singing along to an old Stevie Nicks hit. If she didn't have the volume cranked as high as she did perhaps she would've heard the apartment door open and wouldn't have let out a shriek as soon as she felt someone hug her from behind.

  "Sorry," the devilishly handsome man chuckled as she spun around in his arms.

  "What are you doing here?" she gasped while her heart knocked against her chest. "I thought you had a funeral this afternoon."

  With a shrug, he released her. "I'd rather hang with you, if that's all right. You seemed kind of down yesterday."

  "Well, how nice is that? What did you have in mind?"

  He shrugged. "Anything. Just let me get comfortable first."

  Anything? So tempting…

  While he changed, Sara thought of the one thing she tried to get Jer to do with her but with zero success. Pulling up the site on her laptop, she had the answer she needed by the time Andrew came ambling out of the bedroom in jeans and a sweater.

  "So what's the game plan?"

  "How 'bout we grab some lunch and then go," she took a deep breath and chirped, "ice skating at Millennium Park."

  "Heh, no."

  "Oh, come on. They're keeping it open this weekend because of the snow."

  He gave his head a quick shake. "Sorry. No."

  "Seriously? Why not?"

  "Never been," he clipped, easing onto a barstool.

  She looked incredulous. "You're from the land of a thousand lakes. How did you manage to slip across the border without ever strapping on a pair of skates?"

  He held up his hands. "Mom didn't want me injuring these. No sledding or skiing either."

  Sara nodded. After a few seconds, though, she gave him a disapproving look. "I'm sorry, but that's no excuse for not learning how to skate. I have half a mind to report you to the Minnesota State authorities."

  At this he let out a hearty laugh. "All right. I surrender."

  Sara's right eyebrow flew north, her mouth pulled into a smirk, and her mind, well, that went directly to the place Sister Marcus warned her never to tread.

  They didn't call me "Trouble" for nothing.

  As if reading her mind, Andrew continued, "You'll have to show me what to do."

  Uh…

  "To skate," he said pointedly.

  Dang.

  Looking as flip as possible, she shrugged. "Sure. But it'll cost you."

  He kept his eyes on her and lowered his chin. "What did you have in mind?'

  If you only knew.

  She pressed her lips together. "Come to karaoke with me tonight." Then she plastered on a cheesy grin. "Come on. You'll love it. I've heard you sing. I bet you can belt out Barry Manilow with the best of them."

  After another loud laugh he declined, citing that, as an employee of the Chicago Archdiocese, he had a reputation to uphold.

  Sara nodded. "OK, fine. Skating lessons on the house. Let's go."

  * * *

  A few hours later, Andrew sat on a bench while Sara knelt before him, lacing up his skates.

  After threading the laces through the openings that straddled his ankles, she looked up at him. "How does that feel?"

  "Fine?"

  She tugged again.

  "Ow. That's kinda tight."

  "Good," she grunted. "These really have to support your ankles, especially when you're not used to it."

  After she finished, she held out her hand and pulled him to a standing position with a smile spreading across her face. She put her gloves back on. "Follow me."

  He gripped the railing for dear life as he watched her effortlessly float along. The long skirt she had on over her tights floated behind her as she gracefully glided by.

  "You go ahead," he called after her. "I'll be fine."

  With eyes bright and cheeks pink, she circled back around to him and held out both hands. "Come on. You can do it."

  There was something about letting go of the railing that set off all sorts of alarms in his head. He could hear his mother's voice as clearly as if she were standing right beside him.

  What if you break your wrist?

  God forbid it doesn't heal right. You'll be maimed for life.

  You'll never play again.

  That last one echoed in his head as he held his hand up in a wave at Sara. "I'll just stay here and watch you."

  The blades of her skates cut against the ice as she came to a stop right in front of him.
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  "Now where's the fun in that?"

  She gripped him around the waist and held onto him while he attempted to stand upright on the ice.

  "If you feel like you're gonna fall, just throw your hands up in the air and drop on your ass—sorry, bottom. It has the most cushion, and chances are, you won't break anything."

  Looking around the rink, she pointed to a little boy who had done just that.

  "See?"

  All he could do was nod.

  Sara let go of him, and he started to flail.

  Where's the fun in this?

  After steadying him again, she took his hand in hers. "Come on. You've got this. Nice and slow. Just pretend like you're walking."

  Standing between her and the railing, which was just out of his reach, he started shuffling along.

  "That's it," she exclaimed. "Keep your ankles straight."

  After an excruciatingly long time, they made it all the way around the rink once.

  "You did great." She grinned as she pulled in front of him, taking both of his hands in hers. "Thank you for doing this." Tugging him closer, she gripped him tightly around the waist. "Thanks for—" Her voice dropped to a raspy whisper, "Everything."

  Looking into her sparkling eyes, he forgot for a split second that the only thing between him and instant pain was her grip on him. "Anytime."

  Her cheeks were as red as her lips. As she panted, little wisps of her breath floated on the air in front of him like tiny clouds. And she was still smiling.

  With Chicago's skyline starting to illuminate all around them, Andrew laughed, exhilarated over surviving something so risky and new. Taking her face in his gloved hands, he pressed his lips against hers and didn't stop until a juvenile speed demon brushed by, causing him to wobble and flail.

  "I've got you," Sara breathed as she pulled him smack up against her and kissed him just as she had the night when she had locked herself out of the apartment.

  Only this time, he kissed her back.

  Lost in the moment, he barely heard his name being called. Not until he was almost completely surrounded by 7th grade girls from the St. Matthias.