Searching For Sarah (The Sarah Series Book 1)

by Julieann Dove

  “But it’s only right that I check her out, size her up, and be aware if I’m a clone of her and that’s what the real attraction is here.”

  “Sarah, the last thing I have time for is to give you a bio of my ex. I called you down here to ask if you’ll accompany me to New York this weekend.”

  “Well, I didn’t exactly ask for a bio. A quick synopsis will do. And then maybe a look at her picture on your phone. Because let’s face it, in today’s world, who doesn’t have a million selfies of their girlfriend?” I stopped my bulldozer into his private life when what he said caught up with me. “New York?”

  He was now behind his desk…pulling up his trousers and fixing his tie. “I’m a very private person, Sarah. And I would appreciate it if you could respect that. She is gone and you are here.”

  “Okay. Fine. Point taken.” He was like a live bulletproof vest. “I get it. Now what about New York?”

  “I’m leaving on Friday for business, and I’d like you to accompany me and watch Sophie. I’ve booked a Broadway play for us on Saturday. It’s nothing fancy, but Sophie has always asked to get dressed up and go somewhere important with me. We can pretend it’s a big deal for her.”

  “Man,” I traced the edge of his prominent-looking desk, “I appreciate the money intended to spend on me for airfare and hotel, but I can save you and stay home and keep her. I’ll buy her a pretty dress and we can eat out.” I admit, I was a little put off by the whole mystery woman thing and didn’t want to appear too eager to please. Who doesn’t just say one small fact about their ex? Anything? I’d settle for “eats with her mouth open.”

  “I’ve already made plans.”

  “Before asking me?”

  “I was hoping for the best.”

  “Fine, I’ll have Sophie packed.” I picked up my basket of flowers. “I have to go to the nursing home now and hand out some flowers. Was there anything else?”

  “Nursing home? That’s what you do with those?” He pointed to my basket.

  “Yeah, it’s something I’ve done since I was a little girl. My mom used to do it, and Dad sort of passed the ritual to me. It’s uplifting to see all the older people get jazzed over a flower or two. Mrs. Campbell, a super sweet but a little smelly at times, woman, looks forward to me showing her pictures on my phone when I visit. She likes to see Elvis, for some crazy reason.” I spoke in an informative tone, still sore about Sam shutting me out of his personal life.

  He smiled. “That’s remarkable.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m late in going there.” I glanced at my watch. “I like to arrive before the singing in the cafeteria starts.” I turned to walk out the door.

  “Listen, Sarah, I don’t want to leave things like this.”

  “Like what, Sam?” I turned around quickly, tilting my head.

  “Like you asking me a bunch of personal questions and me not wanting to talk about it. I know you’re irritated.”

  I walked back and stood in front of his desk, resting the basket on top of the shiny surface. “You see, if you ask me anything, I’m an open book. Heck, I have the guys I dated in chronological order in my photo file. At least I did. That is now buried with my phone, wherever that is.” I looked down, somewhat disappointed. I had a lot of pictures that were forever lost. “Anyway, I would tell you anything. Like how I had trouble dating Kelly Green. I mean first off, who would name their child a color? You know your last name is Green, why torture the guy for life. And Kelly? What did they name their daughter, Marvin?” I palmed my chest. “Sarah and Kelly would never look good on napkins and matchbooks at the wedding. I knew that one was going down quickly. And then there was Trenton. The computer-generated images of our children were just a little too spooky. He had this—”

  “Mr. Turner,” blared the speakerphone.

  “Yes,” Sam answered.

  “Your conference call is on hold.”

  He looked at me. “I’m sorry, Sarah. I have to take this.”

  “No problem. I guess it’s a guy thing, anyway.”

  “Conference calls?”

  “No, not discussing old girlfriends. My dad has this thing about never wanting to talk about my mom either. Everything I know about her, I’ve learned from my Aunt Heidi. I guess your secret about whoever you dated will remain just that.”

  Sam’s eyes became sad. “It’s not that. I just have no need to discuss her with you. It’s over.”

  “That’s fine.” I turned to walk out when his phone blared again.

  “Sarah,” Sam called out.

  I turned around.

  “I’ll see you at home.”

  “Sure.” I nodded and walked out.

  I was feeling a bit off track by my visit. I walked in happy, but now I was in a funk. Something too good to be true usually was. Sam looked good, tasted good, but he was a bit too hidden. Maybe this was the carry-on baggage Tony mentioned. It was slipping into the con section of his list, that was for sure. I don’t know. Maybe I didn’t need a list for him. Maybe he was just lonely that night he pulled me into his office and kissed me. Maybe I didn’t get back with him to say I was willing to see us differently and now he was cold again. Maybe it was for the best. Rule of thumb: never get involved with management or older men. They were more complicated than women all day long.

  Before I made it to the sidewalk, I caught sight of a woman getting inside a town car. I wouldn’t have paid so much attention, but I recognized her from the night at the party. She was the one in the bathroom who interrogated me about Sam. The driver sped up the street, and I was unable to see anything else. I turned to look at Sam’s building, wondering whether she’d just come out of it. Obviously she had.

  Now if only I knew her connection to him…

  “Betty, I’m back,” I called out to the receptionist at the Sunset Nursing Home, down off Pine and Calvary.

  Betty was the lady who takes occupancy of the front desk. Her array of colored pens sit in a cup by the phone and she has a seashell-framed picture of her granddaughter and her grandson, right by the sign-in sheet.

  “I see you, girl. I just stepped away to check on Mrs. Heely. Seems her wheelchair stopped rolling just past the ladies’ room.” She sat down and moved a few loose papers. “You just head on back there. Everyone had pudding for lunch, so you’re sure to get a crazy reception. Myra puts whipped cream on the cups and everyone is a little more sugared than most times.”

  “Sounds like fun.” I winked and proceeded through the glass doors to my first room.

  It was Stella. Lovely lady who once ice-skated in her youth. Her family placed pictures of skates, herself in competitions, and award ribbons on her walls. For Stella, I’d give a pretty orchid to her. Her bud vase was tucked underneath her side table. For most of the patients, I had to take paper cups and fill it with water to preserve the flower.

  “Hi, Stella, it’s me, Sarah.” I raised my voice, hoping she could hear me. It looked as if they had her sitting in her wheelchair today. Most days she was in bed.

  “Hey. How you doin’, honey?” Stella looked in my direction, a boney finger raised at me.

  “I’m doing good. I see you’re out of bed today. Good for you. It’s beautiful outside.”

  “My grandson’s here, visiting.” Wrinkles etched deep on her face.

  “Oh, I’m so happy, Stella.” I walked over and poured water in her vase and plopped the exquisite orchid down inside it. Stella smiled.

  “Well, you have a great day, missy. I’m running late and I’ve got to make it to the other ladies’ rooms.”

  I backed out of the room, carrying my basket. I had no idea I was backing into someone.

  “Andrew!” I shrieked.

  “Sarah? You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “Seriously? What are you doing here?” I looked down at his outfit. It didn’t seem official. He had on a pair of jeans with an Aerosmith tee shirt.

  “You’re the one who brings her flowers?” His brow furrowed. “Mom wondered who it was th
at brought Grandma daisies.”

  “Daisies, carnations—it’s whatever Pam, over at the florist, has too many of and will sell for cheap. But I think she gives me a deal, whether she has too many or not.”

  “I can’t believe you’re here.” He stood back, crossed his arms, and shook his head. “This is crazy.”

  Completely. I couldn’t have agreed more. Are you serious, fate? Really? Andrew? I see all the directional signs…the tracks laid…the neon lights. Enough already.

  “I won’t interfere with your visit. I have some more deliveries.” I edged toward the door. “Bye again, Stella.”

  The older woman waved, and I scooted out.

  “Sarah.” Andrew shuffled after me.

  I turned around. “Yeah?”

  He tucked his hands in his pockets. “It’s just that this is too coincidental, don’t you think?”

  What? That I’m kissing a man I cohabitate with and then meet the potential guy I could see pictured on the front cover of my wedding binder? So far I hadn’t seen his problem. Killer appearance, texts appropriately, has dignified job, and doesn’t refer to himself in third person. Check, check, and check.

  “What do you mean?”

  He came closer. “I mean, I had a great time with you the other night. And try as I might, you seem to be putting me off. Yet I’ve been dispatched to your house, and now you walk into Grandma’s room, handing out flowers. What else do you think we need the universe to tell us?”

  “I’m not sure. Maybe I’ll go home and wait and see how our paths intersect tomorrow. What do you think? Maybe I’ll find you stocking soup in my grocery store, and I go there because suddenly I’m all out of beef consommé. And look here, Andrew has it on the top shelf, ready to place it in my cart.”

  “I don’t know if I’d go that far.”

  “It could happen. Want to try?” I played.

  “I know. How about this Saturday when I’m in the parking lot, down by Rick’s on Folly Beach, and I see you standing on the sidewalk, ready to go inside and enjoy some of his crab soup, I’ll freak out and can’t believe it’s you. Say about six o’clock?”

  I liked this guy. Service guy to his community, visitor of old grandma, playing around with me…yeah, I liked him all right.

  “Saturday?” I shrugged. “I’m going to New York Friday. I doubt I’ll be back before Sunday.”

  “Why are you going to New York?”

  “It’s work related. I’m going to travel with Sam and watch Sophie, his daughter.”

  He nodded. It was a nod as if we’d just passed a clue to each other. But I wasn’t sure what the clue was.

  “Then tonight. I start late shift tomorrow, so this is my last night off. I’ll take you to this great bistro. We can eat, talk about world peace, and recycle something. We’ll feel good about ourselves and do something for the environment all at the same time. It’ll be great.”

  I’d told Sam and Sophie I was making roasted chicken for dinner. I’d already bought strawberries for shortcakes after dinner. This whole domesticated thing was getting in the way of looking for a potential domesticated thing. I bit my lip and gave my puppy dog eyes.

  “Andrew, you don’t know how sorry I am to tell you I can’t. I made prior commitments.”

  His shoulders shrugged. “I get it.”

  I walked back over to him. I spied a wheelchair rolling up on my left heel anyway, and had to move.

  “Andrew, I really want a second date with you. Please don’t get me wrong.”

  “No, I’m pushy. I hear myself and I’m kicking myself the entire time my mouth keeps going on and on about taking you here and telling you I want to spend time together. No girl wants that. They want a chase. I’m sorry, Sarah. I’m what you see. I don’t like games.”

  “You have no idea how that is music to my ears. I don’t want games either. But after you kiss a million toads, you’re a little wary the same green thing sitting across the table from you won’t give you a wart, too.” I touched his arm, hoping it would keep my foot from flinging up to the inside of my mouth. “Not that I think—”

  “I’m no toad, Sarah.”

  “Duly noted.” I nodded in approval. “Where were you three months ago?”

  “I believe I was dating one of those amphibians you speak of. The female version, of course.”

  “Yeah, me too.” I swung my basket from side to side. “Say, do the words commitment and monogamy bring about thoughts of a wide-open track? You know, or running shoes?” I pointed at him. “I know! Does it make you think about fast cars for which you get inside when I say those words, and you take off? Smoke lifting in your rearview mirror, or something like that?”

  He laughed. “Not really. I’m at the age where I think about those things.”

  Unbelievable. “Why don’t you walk with me to finish up, and then accompany me to pick up Sophie? I’d like to see how you react to small people, if you don’t mind.”

  We finished passing out all the flowers, and four times I thought I’d pee my pants with how hilarious he was with the patients. Now to see how he responded to the younger crowd.

  “I’m so glad to see you, Soph!” I held out my arms to hug my little peanut. We agreed to letting me dress her in head-to-toe purple today. I even glammed up a headband with purple rhinestones. She was adorable. Eggplant reminiscent, but adorable.

  “Sarah!” She came full force and jumped in my arms.

  The director, Jill what’s-her-name, jogged down the hallway after me. “Miss Keller,” she yelled.

  I turned. “Yes?”

  “I wanted to give you this invitation myself. We’re throwing a little graduation for all the children who are moving up to the next level classroom. Sophie will be with the fours group.” She smiled and tousled Sophie’s hair. “I hope you can make it.”

  I looked at the date. It was in two weeks. Sophie began to cheer. “I can’t wait for you to go with me, Sarah. Tristan says his mommy is the prettiest.” She stamped her foot, with a grumpy face.

  Jill rolled her eyes. “Gennifer usually came and ended up bringing most of the food.” She snapped her fingers. “Which, by the way, that reminds me. Please tell Mr. Turner that I removed everyone off the signature card except for you and him.”

  I didn’t know what she was referring to, but okay.

  “He called earlier this week and made it clear he wanted everyone removed.”

  “Who was on there?”

  “I’m afraid I can’t disclose that.”

  Seriously? Then why was she able to disclose everyone was removed? “Okay, I’ll let him know.”

  I signed out Sophie and we walked out to meet Andrew on the sidewalk. He leaned against the car, looking like a guy I could get used to seeing leaning against a car.

  “Sophie, this is Andrew. Andrew, this is Sophie Turner.”

  Sophie held out her hand and shook his. Then she immediately began telling me a million different fragmented ideas, everything from Play-Doh to helping me make pancakes in the shapes of hearts. I rolled my eyes at Andrew and walked with them to the park across the street. Sophie ran for the sliding board.

  “I love kids.” I smiled at Sophie.

  “Me, too. I want a house of them one day.”

  Be still my heart. He said he wanted children and spoke futuristic. All in the same sentence.

  “Do you know how completely normal you seem to me, Sarah?”

  “Not really.”

  “I could see this in a really good way.”

  I looked at him. He was talking to me, yet keeping an eye on everything that was going on around us. I hoped he wasn’t perceptive of all the gushing I was doing.

  I promised to see Andrew after dinner that night. I couldn’t help myself. It was like trying to keep an eye on a chocolate cake, even though you had too much to eat, and wanted a slice of it later. I had to remember his profile was still out there being circulated. I needed to act quickly if I wanted to keep that recipe for myself.

&nbs
p; “How about a movie tonight?” Sam looked at me and Sophie. He took my plate, along with his, to the sink.

  “Yay!” Sophie clapped her hands, almost knocking over her cup of water. “Yes, Daddy. Yes.”

  I looked down at my glass of lemonade. Really? A movie? I’ve been living here for how long, and not one movie, but tonight a movie? Cue the Grinch. Taking all of Cindy Lou’s happiness. Because I’m not sure Sam would sit through another telling of Rapunzel’s story alone with Sophie.

  “I sort of have some place to go.”

  “Daddy, Sarah has a friend.” Her little innocent eyes beamed. “He went on the swings today with me.”

  Sam tilted his head. “What?”

  I began to backpedal at the speed of light. “It was Andrew. You know, the law enforcement officer who came that day?”

  “Oh, him. Why was he on the swing with Sophie?”

  “Well, funny thing, really.” I rolled up my sleeves. “He was at the retirement home when I went to deliver my flowers, and so he…so he…” I looked up to see Sam studying my face. “So he went with me to pick up Sophie.”

  “That’s bizarre.”

  “Not really. I invited him.”

  “Invited him? Why?”

  I looked at Sophie, wondering why I didn’t have her eat her strawberry shortcake in the other room. “I don’t know. We got on the subject of kids, and I wanted to see if he really liked them or not. You know, guys can say things for the benefit of saying them.”

  “If he liked kids?”

  “It’s nothing, Sam.” I got up and cleared the other dishes. As fast as I could. I knocked a spoon caked in mashed potatoes on the floor in the process. Thankfully it didn’t make a huge mess.

  “Sophie, go up and get ready for your bath. I’ll be up in a minute.”

  Sam appeared behind me, holding two glasses. “I can give her a bath tonight. Go on.”

  “Don’t be silly. I can. I’ll just get these dishes scraped before I go up. You know Sophie—she’ll take an hour picking out which toy to take in the tub with her anyway.”

  Sam came closer and took a dish I had ready to scrape from my hand. I looked up. His eyes seemed to be searching mine.