“What about you, Maggs? Do you like it? Do you think it fits me?” He backed up and posed next to the painted white newel post, smiling. Lord, he looked cute today. He wore a blue Henley shirt and khaki shorts. And his dark hair was a bit unruly and asking for a nice tousle.
“I like it, Carter. I think it becomes you.”
“A house becomes you?” Liz questioned. “What is my house doing to me?”
“Probably screaming from the inside. You know, tiny little screams that you mistake for floors creaking and things like that.” Michael smiled.
“And why would it be screaming?” she sneered.
“Have you seen your living room? Actually seen it?” His head jutted forward.
“Yeah, so?”
“You painted the walls orange, Liz. I feel like I’m going to be served fast food when I come over. That, or a big giant juicer is going to drop from the ceiling and begin squeezing all of us to death.”
She smacked him on the arm. “It’s fuzzy navel, jerk. Not orange. I think I know the difference.”
“I think you had one too many fuzzy navels when you painted that thing.”
“Okay, okay. No more picking on houses,” I said, trying to break up the catfight.
“Well, what do you guys think?” Carter asked with arms open wide. “It’s only seven minutes from the school. If my alarm fails me, I can still make up the time with only being three turns away from the front door of Calvert High. Not to mention the kitchen. Did you check that out, Sarah?”
“I did. Looks good.”
It was simple. Dark cherry cabinets, a gas stove, chrome refrigerator, and plenty of outlets for tiny appliances like mixers, a coffee machine, and his beloved blender that he makes smoothies with. You know, it was full of kitchen things. No doubt I’d be the only one using it to its full potential.
“Well, now that we’ve seen Carter’s wannabe home, anyone want to go to the city for a beer? Maybe take in a movie? That one with Anthony Hopkins is playing. He’s a villain, or a crazy man, or whatever…it’s a movie and a beer.”
“I think you’ve lost your mind, Michael.” Maggie squinted pretty heavily at him. “I think you’ve also lost your memory. Perhaps you don’t recall having Charlie, and the knowledge that bedtime is in two hours.” She checked her watch before declaring the witching hour.
He said nothing, just stared ahead. Like a pet scolded by its owner. I’d seen the writing on the walls lately with those two. Michael was suffering like the kids in Calvert High. Summer break was in the near future and they had the itch. Just like Michael. But Michael wanted to escape the confines of Maggie’s tight hold on him and have a little adult fun.
We left the house and everyone went to their respective homes. Actually, I think Michael’s idea gave Liz a desire to go to the city for that drink. She invited me to go along, but I didn’t feel like it. And anyway, I was going to have to leave Rose with Aunt Heidi in two weeks while we went on the camping trip. I didn’t want to overstay our welcome, and frankly I didn’t want to go out. I was tired from the week. Had I known what would go down when I stayed home, I might’ve changed my mind.
It was at the part where Mr. Darcy was going to confess his love to Elizabeth Bennet. I’d seen it a million times, but I grabbed my pillow and waited for it. Endorphins rumbled through me, as this surrogate love affair between fictional characters was on its way to a satisfying climax. Gosh, I needed a date, I thought. A living, breathing guy. One who would chase me down in the rain and declare his undying love. A flashback of Sam rushed to my mind. Dancing with him in the rain that night. Wet and dripping in his kitchen. I sighed, thinking back on it. Why couldn’t it have been him? All my problems would be solved. A dad for Rose, a love for me, but still no grandmother. What was I thinking? Robena would count as one. I still wrote to her monthly. Someone had to check on the ornery woman. She loved the pictures I sent of Rose. One day I’d take Rose to meet her. Then the grandma thing would be crossed off my list.
Suddenly there was a knock on my door. I looked at the clock. It was 10:45. Running to the window, I pulled the lace curtain back to see whether I could see a vehicle. Surely Liz wasn’t home by now and busting to tell me about the new love of her life. The one she met an hour ago. But I didn’t see her car. Who was it? I ran to the other window and pulled back the shade. I thought it looked like Maggie and Michael’s crossover. I slipped on my robe and went to answer the door.
“Michael?”
“Can I come in?”
He looked awful. His face was sullen, his shirttail was pulled out, and his hair was tossed to the wrong side.
“Come in. What’s wrong? Is Charlie okay? Maggie…is she—”
“Everyone is fine.”
I walked to the living room and waited for an answer of why he was there. This late. At my house. Certainly he had other friends. He was one of the most popular guys in school way back when. I even had a crush on him at one point. Like he ever knew. He was always surrounded by cute cheerleaders and teammates.
“Sit down.” I motioned for him to take a seat on the couch next to me. I threw some of Rose’s stuffed animals to the other chair.
He plopped down and let out a long groan. Finally he said, “It’s Maggie.”
“What’s wrong with Maggie?” I held my breath.
“She’s changed.”
I let out a sigh of relief. “Are you serious? I think we’ve all changed, Michael. Even you have. Good grief.” I shook my head. “Here I thought it was something serious. You could’ve called, you know.”
He looked at me with the most intense, needful stare. I was paralyzed by his unwavering light-brown eyes. I realized they were having trouble, but this looked hopeless. If there were some sort of emergency room for the emotionally wrecked people, he needed to be in triage about now. Maggie confessed they were going through a rough patch, and she couldn’t seem to get any emotional reaction from him. She said she couldn’t remember the last time they’d been physical. Minus her throwing a book at him, just to see if he was listening to her.
“I’ve changed?” He hit his chest. “I’ve changed?”
“Yes,” I replied, kind of leaning back away from him when I squeaked it out.
“How have I changed, Sarah? Because I want to go out once in a while? Not want to talk about baby feces and the fact Charlie’s has been getting darker these days? Oh, and maybe that comment tonight about a beer really said I’ve changed.” He scooted over and held me in his intense gaze. “Do you know that small comment brought on World War Three at my house tonight? Because I want to go out with an adult and not play cars for more than an hour—I’m the idiot.”
I sat, frozen. Afraid to move for fear he’d jump down my throat with his pent-up tension. My spine began to throb.
“Are you in there?” He peered into my eyes.
“Yes. I’m just taking it in, that’s all. Being your sounding board.” Trying not to get my head bitten off.
“I need more than a sounding board, Sarah. I need…I need… Heck, I don’t know what I need.” His head shook, until it rested in the palm of his hand.
“Maybe the camping trip is what both of you need. Time to get away. Reconnect with one another. Without baby feces to look at and mull over dinner about. It’ll do you all some good.” I playfully hit him on the shoulder and grinned.
“Only problem is, we’re not going.” He looked up, biting his lip.
“Not going?” I reared back into the cushion.
“Nope. Maggie is scared to death the moment we lose cell phone coverage, Charlie will choke on a button that’s come loose from a pillow cushion. Or…or…her mother’s house will radiate his insides with invisible radon, because she hasn’t tested it in over a year.”
“That’s absurd.”
“That’s what I’m up against. And frankly, I’ve had it. Don’t get me wrong. I love Charlie. He’s the best thing I’ve ever done. He’s always happy, I love his little fat toes, and the way he looks whe
n he sees me after I come home, and—”
“You don’t have to explain, Michael. Maggie’s flustered, too. Being a mom is scary. You’re not sure if you’re doing too much, not enough, not doing it right. And I didn’t have a second parent to assure me I was doing any of it right. You have each other. Appreciate that small token. You’re not alone.” Yikes, this was becoming depressing. First to realize I’m not Elizabeth Bennet, now I’m alone and a sucky mom without any intention of getting a puppy for Rose. Let alone, produce a dad and a grandma. I’m a big, fat, lonely failure. I sunk low and tucked in my chin.
“I don’t feel like I’ve got anyone, Sarah.”
I put my hand on his shoulder and leaned in to empathize. His head rose, and his tension seemed to be lifting. Just then his phone pinged.
“You better check it. It’s probably Maggie. She’s worried, I know it.”
He took his phone from his pocket, and I walked to the kitchen. I didn’t want to seem nosey. She’d tell me all about it tomorrow anyway.
I’d begun rinsing the lasagna out of a dish I had soaking when I felt something near me. Rather, someone near me. I turned to see Michael. My nerves got the better of me and I jumped. My hands were soapy and I began to laugh.
“Thanks for giving me a heart attack, Michael.”
His eyes stared at me, unmoved by my jolt. Before I knew what was happening, he leaned and kissed me. It was so quick. I could see his face coming closer, feel his warm lips, and taste Chapstick. He always kept cherry flavor in his pocket. I’d see him applying after meals mostly, and when he was bored.
My soapy hands pressed against his chest. “Michael!”
He backed up.
“What in the world are you doing?”
With his eyes half-closed, he shook his head. “I don’t know.”
I grabbed a towel and wiped my hands. He walked to the table and leaned against a chair, head hanging. A million thoughts processed inside my head. Maggie was in all of them. So demure, trying to be a good mom, and fighting the feeling of guilt for wanting to return to work. And here he was. Kissing me.
“What was that?” I finally said, breaking the silence that was ringing loudly in my ears.
“I don’t know.” His head never lifted, while his hands hid away in his pockets.
“Was it…was it…what was it, Michael?” I persisted as my breathing remained rapid.
“Stupidity. Who knows? I sure don’t.” He banged his hand on the table.
A surge of air pressed from me. Thank goodness he didn’t say something ridiculous. Like he wanted to do it again, or maybe he’d wanted to do it before now. Fine. It was a lapse in judgment. Loneliness at its ugliest. And I was in the cross hairs of it. It happens to the best of us…in the worst times. We’d get over it. And never ever speak of it. To anyone. Ever. Oh. My. Gosh. Not even to Maggie. Especially not Maggie. It was a lapse. A mistake. Not meant to happen. Hmm…
“I think you should go.”
He grabbed the back of his neck. “Sarah—”
“Don’t, Michael. Don’t say anything. Just go home to your wife. Assure her she’s the only one for you.”
He didn’t move. It was a stare-off. So much was passing between our brains, but neither one of us would say another word. This would change everything. Until I acclimated to the fact everyone makes a stupid mistake. Then hopefully we’d get carried away again in front of the karaoke, making fools how we can’t read lyrics and sing at the same time. I just hoped I could forgive myself for not telling her. Why would I? It would only hurt their marriage if I did.
So much for not saying anything. The guilt was eating at me like a bird on a corn ear. Liz was in the lounge, magazines sprawled, and she picked at her tuna salad with a saltine cracker in her hand. I fell into the blue padded chair beside her and put my head down.
“Are the kids getting to you that bad today? Someone want a study hall instead of French?” she teased.
I raised my head and looked at her with the most deadpan look I could muster. I couldn’t even eat. I hadn’t since it happened last night. My bagel and cream cheese sat on my plate and mocked me this morning. Michael avoided me in the hall already. We usually exchanged fist pumps before first period when I walked to my office. Today it was only the sound of lockers banging shut and a bunch of skater hairdos and purple-streaked tresses.
“Uh-oh, this is serious. Where is your lunch, Sarah? Your five Tupperware containers of the three food groups?” She looked around me.
“I can’t eat.”
“Oh my gosh, you’re in love.”
“Really?” My brow rose over my left eye. “When exactly would I have time to fall in love? And who would it be? I heard Jared is pecking the table with Mrs. Watson. I saw him smiling that goofy smile outside her homeroom class.”
“Thank goodness.” She closed her magazine. “Tell me what’s wrong. Come on, spill it.”
I hid my face in my hands and massaged my temples. There were two other teachers in the room. Both of them were going over paperwork and safely twenty feet away.
“Something happened. Something bad. Something that can’t be undone.”
“Good Lord, Sarah! What is it? Does it involve Rose?” She grabbed her mouth. “Oh my gosh, you told her about Sam?” She hit me on her arm. “Why did you do it? And then you called him because she wanted to hear what a dad sounded like, and—”
“Of course I didn’t tell her about Sam.” I smacked her on the arm. “Do you think I’m an idiot?” I leaned in close. “Now promise you won’t say a word?”
She shook her head. I could smell the fish on her fingers.
“No, Liz. I don’t mean don’t say anything to your stylist or the man who cuts your grass. I mean don’t utter this to your stray cat outside. No one.”
“Fine. Now spill it.”
I looked around once more. “Okay, but you promise.”
“Yeah, yeah. Now what is it?” Her body was hunched toward me.
“Michael came over last night, and…well, he was going through something with Maggie…and…and he sort of…” I winced. “He sort of kissed me.”
Liz grabbed her mouth and her blue eyes popped. “Get out!”
“Liz.” I squeezed her arm. “Now I’m telling you because I don’t know what to do, and I’ve got to tell someone to hear what it sounds like outside of my head. Am I the worst possible friend not to say anything? Or am I legitimate in knowing it was a bad night and will never, ever happen again?”
She took a deep breath and sat up, looking around. “I have no idea what you should do. I mean, we’re talking about Michael. Maggie and Michael, Michael. The guy who sounds like a frog croaking when he sings.” She grabbed her gaping mouth. “Oh my gosh! I should’ve called it.”
“Called what?”
“Oh, come on, Sarah. Think about it. He’s always helping you when it’s your turn to cook.”
“And exactly when is it someone else’s turn? I’m always cooking. He’s just a nice guy.”
“We try to avoid stomach pumps, Sarah. That’s why you’re usually nominated. It’s your fault anyway. Making all those dishes we’re all too poor to buy at those fancy restaurants.”
“Okay, please stay focused here. Michael does not always help me. He’s usually playing with the kids.”
“Yeah, right. And when we clean up, he’s the one who helps you. Oh my goodness, of course. I bet Maggie’s seen it, too. Does she suspect something, do you think?”
“Okay, I think you have an active imagination. I don’t even suspect anything. He rinses a dish, Liz, not grab my butt.”
Now she had me thinking about what happens at our dinners. Sure, Michael helps me. But that’s because no one else does. Carter’s usually filling his face, Liz is pickling herself in wine, and Maggie is playing with Rose and Charlie. But seriously? I thought he was just being kind.
“Great.” My posture dipped. “You’re no help.”
“Did he do anything else?” She made suggest
ions with her eyes.
I hit her. “Not hardly. He said it was stupid.”
“Then why did he do it? And what was he doing at your house? Alone, without Maggie?”
I was about to answer when Carter poked his head in the door. I looked at Liz and shut my mouth.
“Hey, what’s going on? You two look like you’re discussing where to hide the body.”
“What body?” I asked.
“It’s a joke, Sarah. Calm down. Geez. What are you two talking about?” He sat down and leaned in. “Spill it.”
“Nothing,” I snapped.
“Liar.”
“Am not.” I stood. “Liz, I’ll catch you later. I’ve got to do some reports in my office.”
She smiled and waved. I walked off, giving her the look as if she better take it to her grave. Then again, I should’ve known better.
It was an incredibly long day. Maggie called and tried to tell me about Michael disappearing last night. They had a fight or something. I bit my tongue and silently prayed she’d stop confiding in me. I didn’t deserve her trust. Not that I did anything last night, but not telling her wasn’t good. Not that telling her would be a parade, either. I didn’t know what to do. She’s the person I’d most likely ask in a situation like this! I locked my office and walked to my car to pick up Rose. My constant. Suddenly our simple life without a male was a godsend.
I caught sight of Michael walking to his car. What used to be a shout-out was turning into a ducking game of hush. But then I saw Carter. And he was speedwalking through the parking lot. I wondered what the rush was. I wondered no longer than a second. Before I knew it, he rushed up to Michael and yelled like a maniac. I put my bags on the ground by my car and ran to them.
Pursuing Sarah (Sarah Series Book 2) Page 4