I pushed back her bangs. “Did he tell you he wanted to break up?”
“Well no, but…”
“So he’s just not coming back then? It’s truly a job that he wants to take, and there’s no question it could jump-start his dream career?”
“Well, yes, but that sort of means we can’t be together, doesn’t it? I mean, I’m here and he’s there.”
“So?”
“So?” Her brow furrowed. The sparkle that used to be caked on her eyelids was smeared down her cheeks and she had the two biggest raccoon circles I’d ever seen.
“Move to Tennessee and be with him, Colleen!” I smiled, trying to get the same reaction from the puddle of mess I was witnessing.
“Move? From my mom and dad?”
“Well, yes. I moved from mine and I’m still here, aren’t I?”
“You don’t have anyone, Sarah.”
“Yes, well, thank you for pointing that out. But that’s more argument to show that you will survive without them if you go. And you and Eddie have been dating for a year, haven’t you? Well, that’s longer than my longest relationship. And we didn’t even live together.”
The more I was trying to convince her, the more pathetic my life sounded. I turned and looked at Sam pacing on the sidewalk in front of the diner. His free hand waved up and down, and his jaw was clenched again. I could hear him faintly through the thick glass, but I couldn’t make out the words.
“I’m going to do it. I’m going to do it, Sarah!” Colleen stood up, erected her second-ago wet noodle posture, and declared it straight again. “I’m going to go to Tennessee and be with my baby. I don’t care that Daddy thinks he’s got no future. They want my man to write songs.” She shook her head sternly and smacked the table.
Tony finished up ringing the last ticket from the Saturday dance club and walked over to us. “What are you doing, Colleen? And you, Sarah…” He looked at me with beady eyes, shaking his head while he ticked his tongue. “Giving her a crazy idea like moving. Why, I’ve known her all her life. She’s never left the state of South Carolina.”
Colleen leaned over and gathered her tissues from my bench seat. I winked at her before she skipped off toward the back. No doubt to call Eddie and tell him the good news.
“Tony, she’ll be all right. She’s twenty, isn’t she? It’s time she follows her heart.”
“But she’s not like you, Sarah. When it flops, she won’t be able to survive like you do. You’re older, and more mature. You weren’t spoon-fed all your life. Tennessee will swallow her whole.”
Great. So I have that going for my eulogy: “Here lies Sarah…able to survive all the flops in her life. Never achieved finding Mr. Right. But hey, she doesn’t need Mr. Right. She can survive.” Well, I’m tired of surviving the flops. I wanted my forever guy. Not flop number…whatever.
“Tony, don’t worry about Colleen. Her heart is driving her. Sometimes that’s more powerful than rationale.”
Sam squeezed behind Tony and sat on the squeaky seat. He was piercing the table with his bionic eyesight. A hole might burn if he didn’t divert his stare. He seemed oblivious of where he was.
“Everything okay with you? It wasn’t Sophie, was it?”
Tony walked off, raking his hair with his hand and shaking his head.
Sam rested his chin on his hand. I couldn’t help but take the bite I had in my hand. I didn’t want to seem insensitive, but I didn’t want warm food to go to waste, either.
Finally his temporary trance broke and he regained knowledge of his whereabouts. “It’s nothing.”
“It certainly didn’t look like nothing. I think there’s grooves you might have to pay Tony to fix, outside the diner.” I pointed out the window. “That was some pretty intense pacing.”
Sam’s eyes drifted to mine. “I just wish my life was sometimes different.”
“Well, you can make it different. Just look at Colleen.” I pointed at the waitress, who was minutes ago a puddle of despair; now she was a fountain of joy, squirting moonbeams everywhere she could. She poured refills and shuffled her feet as if she were dancing with her Prince Charming. The phone call must’ve been a success.
“What changed? I thought when she came to the table she was going to go for the butter knife and end it all.”
“Yeah, well, I fixed everything. I can for you, too. Just let me take your picture and post a stellar profile. You’ll be scooting around like Colleen in no time.”
“Never. Now what happened to change her?”
“I convinced her to move to Tennessee to be with her boyfriend.” I two-fisted the half of my burger and pushed it into my mouth.
“And she listened? Does she have a plan? Is there a place for her to live out there? Does she have job possibilities? Has she given proper notice to Tony?”
“Good grief.” I tried to chomp down the tomato fighting for space with the bun in my mouth. The back of my hand served as a great napkin. “She just found out two minutes ago she was leaving. She’ll figure that other stuff out when she gets there.”
“Are you serious?” He lunged forward over the table and held a fry between his index finger and thumb. “That’s crazy.” He popped the fry in his mouth. “Oh my goodness, this is great. I don’t even like fries.” His eyes floated with joy.
“I know. I told you.”
“What is in this sauce?” He took two more cut potatoes and swirled them around the magic sauce. “No, we’re getting off the subject. Colleen looks what? All of eighteen? She has no idea what life is probably outside of this diner.”
“That’s exactly why she needs to go.”
“You like to fly by the seat of your pants, don’t you?”
“Yep.” I popped a cheese thingy in my mouth and smiled as if it were a canary and I was the cat.
“And how’s that working for you? The last time I checked, you weren’t enrolled in school, you’re not sure what you’ll do after watching Sophie, and—”
“Don’t you get on your high Mercedes-clad horse, Mr. Sam Turner. If you didn’t wear such professionally starched pants, you might learn to fly from them, too.”
“Are you insinuating I’m stuffy?”
“Insinuating? When’s the last time you took a vacation? And I don’t mean business travel. Just you and Sophie. She grabs her bucket out of the closet every day in hopes that day will be the day you take her to the beach. But you’d rather hide behind your desk and papers. Arrive late to dinner, pace around all night in your office taking calls.”
“That’s made me very successful. Today’s generation would rather have everything handed to them. I’m showing Sophie work ethic. Furthermore, I’ve been on time for dinner. It’s nice having it every night.” His eyes watched me.
“Okay, that’s very true—you have been punctual as of late. But she’s three and a half, Sam. Work, to her, is the ugly monster that takes her daddy every day and doesn’t release him till it’s dark.”
He rested his hands on his lap and looked down at the table. “Am I a bad dad?”
Feeling as if I’d just beat him about the shins and kneecaps, I softened my Hitler voice to a more Mother Theresa-sounding one. “You’re a very conscientious dad who wants the best for his little girl. And the fact that you even carved time out of your single status life to raise your great-niece is completely superhero in my book. But make a sandcastle occasionally with her, Sam. Show her the softer side of you. I’ve gotten a hint of it, and it’s amazing.” Did I just say amazing? Oh. My. Gosh. Hopefully he was too bruised from the shrapnel of “bad” dad talk to catch that last sentence.
Nope. He looked up as if he’d just been told a unicorn was going to take center stage and pass on a trillion dollars to him, tax exempt.
“Amazing? I got the impression you were always angry with me? Like, I suck daily and you’re getting fed up with it.”
“Well, you did cost me Rob. On second thought, Rob was a needed casualty.” I cleared my throat, hoping it would act as w
hite-out for the whole mess I was blurring our relationship to be. “You’re fine, Sam. Really. Just buy a pair of Speedos and get to the beach.” Speedos? Well, I certainly wasn’t imagining anything longer in length.
“Okay, tomorrow then. You, me, and the kiddo. We’ll really go this time.”
“Um, me? Go with you all?” I pointed at him and waved my finger around. “That sounds more like father-daughter bonding. I’ve got a knitting class to attend, or something.” Marta sent out an email to learn a new technique. It was something new she was trying to attract more customers.
“Knitting?” He laughed in his hand. “If you didn’t want to go, you could’ve thought of something better than that, Sarah. I don’t recall seeing knitting on your list of fun pastimes just now. Does all the bungee jumping get in the way?”
“I knit. I might’ve not mentioned it in my profile because, well, because, whatever.” My hand was on my hip. “I’m knitting my dad an afghan. And don’t you remember? That’s where I met Gennifer, and she introduced me to you.”
He bit his lip. “Okay, I believe you. But please come with me. Your group can do without you this Sunday.”
His eyes looked sincere. I imagined if I said no, he might not take Sophie, and that would break my heart. Then the thought came to me of that woman with the blindfold, Lady Justice, holding out one arm of Sam in swim trunks, tanning on the beach, and the other of Robena with knitting needles.
“Okay, fine.”
He sat a little straighter and smiled, grabbing for his hamburger.
“I’ve got to go to the ladies’ room. I’ll be right back.”
I sipped the last remaining sip before I surrendered my glass to Colleen to take back to the dishwasher. A few stragglers were still at the counter, finishing pie and coffee. “I wish you so much luck, Colleen. Maybe you could get Eddie to write a song about it, and tell him he can use my name. Something like, ‘Sarah, you were so wise.’” I smiled at her and pushed her shoulder. “Ah, whatever. Just have fun.”
The shy girl smiled and covered her mouth quickly with her hand. “Thanks, Sarah. I’m so glad you walked in to the diner tonight. My life would’ve been over if you hadn’t.”
“All in a day’s work.” I winked and shimmied a bit in the booth. My Spanx was not cooperating at all since I went to the bathroom. “Just take care, and keep my number in case you need anything.”
“Okay.”
“Look, the wind is really picking up out there. We better get going.”
Sam threw a twenty-dollar bill on the table for a tip and helped me out of the booth.
“We better get home and batten down the fort then. The town should be closing any minute now, and we’ve still got some shutters that aren’t nailed.”
“Do you have ‘loves sarcasm’ on your little lying profile sheet? If not, you need to add it,” he said.
“I’m taking a picture of you, Sam. At the very least, you’ll find yourself a rebound girl on the site.”
“You and this rebound girl. I wish you’d stop thinking I’m in need of a rebound. What I’m in need of right now is getting home and getting out of this tux.” He pulled at his tie and winced.
We waved at Tony, who was on the phone. I mouthed I’d see him soon, and headed for the door. I held onto my dress as the wind whipped around me on the way to the car.
“Looks angry.” Sam looked out as the wind moved the trees. The moon stayed hidden, and the streetlights flickered. A few drops of rain hit the car windshield as we drove home. “I’ll pull up to the stairs and you jump out. Here’s the keys to the front door.” He reached for his pant pocket.
“I won’t melt. Just pull in the back as usual.”
“But—”
“Sam, pull to the back.”
He turned off the car and parked where he usually did. I opened the door and bent forward, running against the rain falling on my head. Suddenly, I felt Sam’s hand touch my back, guiding me toward the back door. I stopped, looked up, and closed my eyes. The rain felt like BB pellets smashing against my face as they picked up speed and weight. I let it pelt my head; water crawled through my scalp until it was soaked. My red gown grew heavy, and I loved every minute of it. It’d been a long time since I danced in the rain.
Sam yelled out, hunching over, “Are you insane, Sarah? Get inside. You’ll drown.”
“I don’t care. It’s wonderful.” The noise was loud as it pinged off the car, the railings, and my head. I stretched out my arms and let the water pour over me.
“You’re crazy.” Sam squinted from the rain hitting his face. Water dripped from his lips and his eyelashes.
“Dance with me, Sam.” I took his hand and twirled toward him.
He laughed and caught me. “So you weren’t lying about the dancing in the rain, were you?”
“Nope.” I twirled out and laughed.
“Come on, Tiny Dancer. Let’s get you inside before we drown.”
We rushed up the stairs to the door and fell inside, laughing. Sam brushed off the water that dripped from his hair. My dress clung to me like a wet sock, and my hair stuck to my forehead and dangled in front of my eyes, weighted by the water. I began to shiver.
“I’ll go and get you a towel.” He looked at me and reached out to touch my face. “Here, you have a hair trapped in your eyelash.”
“I’ve got millions of hairs trapped in my—”
Before I knew what was happening, Sam leaned in, almost as if he were going to kiss me. Then he stopped. Cold turkey. Hand not moving. Eyes not blinking. I wasn’t sure, but I think I stopped breathing. His face slowly moved closer to mine, his eyes magnetically pulling him. I quickly took one giant step backward. My legs knew something my brain didn’t.
“Sam, we can’t.”
He straightened slightly, one eye cocked. “Why not?”
“Um…” I swallowed hard, pretty certain he could see my throat do that elevator thing. He was that close still. Let me see. Give me a minute, I’d think of something brilliant. Something obvious. Something completely overlooked by the one looking. Something! Anything!
“We can’t because it’s just not right.” Brilliant!
“For who?” His lids seemed heavy. He had that drunken-with-desire look going on. Which made it incredibly difficult to ward off any kind of anything he was trying, without a circle of salt and a clove of garlic.
“For us. I’m your nanny. Well, not your nanny, but I work for you, and I have a strict rule about not getting involved with my employer. I mean, look at Tony.” My head shook nervously. “That could’ve ended in a real disaster. I might not have been able to take you there tonight, or ever enjoy that wonderful sauce. Because, well, it would’ve gotten complicated.”
“I’m not Tony, and I have absolutely no cooking skills at all. Potential problem solved.” He moved closer. As close as perhaps a dentist or hygienist might come, only they’re holding tools. Sam only had those bedroom eyes and wet-looking lips. Not to mention his woodsy cologne had formed a coalition with the rest of the stuff he had going on, and before I knew it, my hormones were under attack.
I took another half step backward. “You say that, but anything could happen. And anyway, you’re just feeling lonely. It’s the long-term relationship withdrawal syndrome. Trust me, I wrote the book on lonely. If anything were to happen tonight, you would kick yourself in the morning, and then I’d be weird around you until I moved out. Which would probably be sooner than later, because we couldn’t look each other in the eye anymore. And I don’t even have a place to move to.” I stopped rambling, looked at him and gave my most innocent smile.
He straightened up and drove his hands in his pant pockets. After he cleared his throat, he stared up at the ceiling. “I’m not lonely.” His eyes drifted to mine. “I simply thought…” He raked his hand through his wet hair. “I simply thought there was something tonight between us. Something…” His gaze wandered to the tops of his shoes. “Just never mind. You’re right. It would complicate t
hings. Sophie is very important to me, and you are very important to her.”
I hung my head in shame. What a jerk he made me seem. I was only trying to avert a bad scene. Although my heart flittered and jumped when he lunged toward me, I knew in my gut it would be bad. What we had was uncomplicated. And Sam Turner was not anyone I was seeking like that. Not like a forever guy. He was a nice guy, a terrific guy, but as far as long-term went, it was a dead end. I did not want to get sidetracked on a little bit of a moment. Moments come and go.
“It’s not to say I’m not flattered,” I said, my head still hanging low. “You are an amazing guy, Sam.”
“Thanks.” He pulled the back of his neck. “Well, I’m going to bed. Sleep well, and thanks for escorting me to the dinner tonight. I had a great time.”
“Thank you for inviting me. It made my birthday awesome.”
“Oh, man. Sarah, I forgot it was your birthday.” He smiled and then it faded. “Well, happy birthday. I know it wasn’t your first choice in ways of celebrating, but I’m honored to have spent it with you. Good night.”
He walked off toward the hall. I watched until he disappeared up the stairs. Remarkably, I wasn’t shivering anymore. Must’ve been the cold heart I seemed to be harvesting inside.
I dragged myself up the stairs, my backbone wavering and stammering with each step. I shut and locked my bedroom door, falling against it hard. I was doing the right thing, right? This guy was older and wiser, chivalry-driven, self-made, and had one heck of a little girl. And Dad was right: the little girl made it more difficult to end a sticky mess. And by all accounts, I felt a little bit of jam getting ready to get smeared on me with one single kiss by Sam Turner.
I did the right thing. I would keep repeating it until I believed it. I depended on Sam for a lot right now—a place to live and a check to live on. Bad endings would not prove beneficial to all the woes I had going right now in my life.
Searching For Sarah (The Sarah Series Book 1) Page 9