Searching For Sarah (The Sarah Series Book 1)

by Julieann Dove

  I put my hand on my hip. “And just how could you see that coming from a mile off? I didn’t even see it from two feet away.”

  She put down her project. “Sarah, you don’t get this old being stupid and naïve. You learn a few things along the way.”

  “So Dorothy, what did Scarecrow and the Tin Man teach you exactly?”

  She smacked her lips and sat back in her chair. “More than you think.”

  I was intrigued. The most mysterious thing about Robena I thought there was was how many cats she truly gave shelter to. And why she didn’t cough up hairballs during our sixty-minute sessions.

  “So tell me what you know.”

  “What do you want to know exactly?”

  “Should I pursue what I know and think I’d want, or do I pursue what I don’t know and think I want?” I tilted my head and waited for her response. I gave her so much to go on, after all.

  “Let me tell you a little story about what you know and what you don’t.”

  I scooted in my chair and got comfortable.

  She stroked her chin. Her white hair had been recently permed and she favored Barbara Bush. But in a cheaper silk blouse and polyester pants.

  “I was engaged to Charlie Mitchell when I graduated high school.” She looked at me, making sure I was listening. “I’d known Charlie since grade school. I knew nuts made him swell like a bloated pig, and his limp came from a tractor accident he had when he was fourteen and his dad wasn’t looking where he was going.”

  “Sounds like a stud. I’m imagining a farm right now. Did he wear sexy overalls?”

  She cut her eyes. “So, where Charlie was, so was I. We went swimming in the creek on Sundays after church, we went to the ten-cent movie on Fridays, and Mama invited him to the family picnics in July.”

  I nodded, enjoying this walk down memory lane with a woman who, up until now, I imagined existing only with cages of cats. I figured she had a secret language she shared with them, and had that tongue you could buy off the Internet to lick their fur and take bonding to a new level. Robena as a girlfriend was never a thought.

  She shifted on her chair. “So Charlie and I were just a given that we’d get married. He was taking schooling to become a vet, and then we’d live on a piece of land his daddy would give us and I’d work with him to grow his practice.”

  “Is that what you did?” No wonder she loved animals. She worked with them all her life.

  “If you’ll listen, you’ll find out.” She adjusted herself and looked to the air to find her spot again. “So one day I was in town buying some things Momma needed and there was a boy sitting on the back of a truck. I’d never seen him before.”

  “Ew. I feel like I need popcorn or something.” I looked around and grinned.

  “Paul Conners.” She picked at the yarn, and paused. “He was staying with some relatives for the summer. He’d graduated like me and Charlie and was waiting to join the army. Well, turns out, a few weeks later my dad needed help fixing the barn and Mrs. Conners sent her nephew over.”

  “Uh, oh. I see where this is going, Robena.”

  “Shish.” She patted the table. “So Paul and I started talking every evening when he was finished up helping Daddy. And before I knew it, he had me dreaming about all the places we was going to be visiting by being in the army.”

  I grabbed my mouth. Oh no. “You didn’t.”

  “You don’t know me, Sarah. I was a girl who suddenly felt trapped in a small town, destined to marry a guy I’d grown up with. Who I knew every little detail about. Who never got my heart rate past a slow hum.” She smiled. “Well, except for that time in the back of the truck when he said all we’d do is count stars.” Suddenly she fell in some coma of a flashback.

  I didn’t realize she had back teeth until I saw all of them with her wide smile. I waited until she transported back to the present. “And then?”

  “So, long story short, I ran off with Paul. We got married, and I moved twenty times in twenty-four years.”

  “Holy moly. Grass didn’t grow underneath your feet, Robena. I would’ve never pictured you to be so worldly.”

  “Me neither. But at the time, sitting in a town you never left, it sounded magical.”

  “It wasn’t?”

  “Seems along with traveling, Paul loved to wander.” She gave me the knowing eye. “The wandering eye.”

  “I see.” I felt my mouth gaping. “Oh, Robena.” I touched her arm.

  “Paul was a scoundrel.”

  I grabbed my chest. “Robena. The vulgarity. It doesn’t become you.”

  “Fiddle faddle.”

  “Watch your tongue, young lady.”

  She hit me on the arm. “Paul cheated on me more times than I could count, Sarah.”

  “I’m sorry, Robena. Why didn’t you go home?”

  “Because I disgraced my family, I hurt Charlie, and I could never return in that shape. So I stayed with Paul and looked the other way.”

  How completely sad. How utterly depressing to live her life that miserable.

  “Please tell me this ends happily. I mean, you make a mean blanket and don’t get me started on the footies I’ve seen you knit.”

  “Paul died of cancer.”

  “Okay.” I shut my mouth and stared at the table. “Were you sad?”

  “Of course I was sad—what do you think I am? A heartless woman? The man slept beside me half his life. I washed and dried his clothes, held a cloth to his head when he almost died from fever.” She caught her breath.

  “I don’t know. I just got the impression he was a cad and you might’ve slipped eye drops or washer fluid in his Sprite when he wasn’t looking.”

  “I’m not demented, Sarah. I was just unhappy.”

  “So what happened to Charlie? Did you keep up with him?”

  “He’s my vet.”

  “Get out.” I leaned over and pushed her shoulder. “Are you serious?”

  “Why do you think I have as many cats as I do, Sarah?”

  “You’re a lonely old cat lady?”

  She threw me a very deadpan look. “You are so clueless.”

  I palmed my chest. “Me?”

  “Yes, you. No, I came home after Paul passed. I bought a house with the money he squirreled away and I see Charlie every time a cat has a litter, or needs to be spayed or neutered. Or sneezes, or coughs. I’d say that’s at least twice a month, without seeming too obvious. Ripples has terrible allergies and so it requires more visits.” She slyly smiled.

  “Is he married, single, gay?”

  “Sarah!”

  “What?”

  “He’s married to Joanie Tananbaum. I knew I should’ve never trusted her. She fell all over him after I ran off, I’m sure.”

  “Well, you did leave him, Robena.”

  “Well, that didn’t give her the go-ahead, certainly.” She puffed out her very robust chest. “And she’s in good health, from what it seems. Not a cough or a limp. I study her every Sunday at church. Either the good Lord don’t want her, or He’s still punishing me for leaving a commitment I made to Charlie.”

  “You want him back?”

  “Duh. You sure aren’t too smart. No wonder you can’t see a good thing when you’ve got it.”

  “Good thing?”

  “That little girl’s daddy. That’s the convenient one you’re referring to, right? You still living there, aren’t you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, what’s the problem? He’s not vulgar, is he? He hasn’t showed you the one-eyed snake, has he? Once a man does that, you can just figure he’s bad news.”

  My eyes darted left and right. This was Robena I was talking to, right? What did she know about…oh, of course…she was into animals at one time with that guy Charlie.

  “Sam is a gentleman. He’s settled, charming, attractive, gave me a car, which I’m giving back to him, wants to see me happy so he’s stopped making passes. He’s a great guy.”

  “And so what about the po
liceman? The one who says he can show you the world.”

  “Andrew? I just met him. He doesn’t say he can show me anything.”

  “But he’s mysterious to you. You don’t know what he does on Saturday mornings, if he’ll be interested in being a daddy, scratches himself while standing at the fridge.”

  “Well, right. Sort of. I’d get to know those things, I guess.”

  “But you know them already with Sam.”

  “Sam works out on Saturdays. He goes to the bagel shop, buys their coffee, and then goes to the bakery and eats a raspberry-filled doughnut. He doesn’t think I know this, but I’ve seen the receipts in the trash. And he likes to eat cereal standing up. And he’s a great dad. He even attempts to put ponytails in Sophie’s hair.”

  She sat there, shaking her head.

  “What?”

  “I wouldn’t have to share my limited income buying kitty litter if I’d known someone who would’ve told me what I’m trying to tell you right now.” She leaned closer to me. “Sometimes what you know is worth more than what you don’t. If he makes you happy, and trust me—Charlie did; I just didn’t realize it—then go for the doughnut guy.”

  “But there’s another problem.”

  “What?”

  “He’s sort of older than me. It scares me a little.”

  “Do you think hearts age, Sarah?”

  “Huh?”

  “The feelings I still have for Charlie, they’re the same feelings I had forty years ago, in the back of that pickup, looking up at that night sky. I look at his limp as he chases one of my cats around the office, and I think, ‘I was there that day the doctor told him he wouldn’t walk.’ My love and my regret for that man is as fresh as the day I first kissed him by the oak tree out at the creek. And the day I kissed his cheek telling him I was leaving.” She lowered her head and clasped her fingers together.

  “You’ve given me a lot to consider, Robena.”

  “Well, I hope someone can reap something from my heap of mistakes.” She squared her shoulders and picked up her needles.

  I got up from the table and went and kissed her on top of the head. The perm solution tickled my nose. “And to think I thought you were just a crazy cat lady.”

  “Uh, huh.” She cut her eyes and smiled before she pulled her yarn.

  I waved at Marta, who was giving her umpteenth lecture on laundering yarn. Driving home, all I could do was think about Robena and Charlie. And that stinky, old, very much now worms for the earth, Paul. How dare he promise something to Robena, and then cheat on her? It didn’t matter whether he was young and dumb and didn’t know better.

  Pretty Woman. That’s the movie that kept running through my head the entire time I spent looking around my room. And during the private plane ride to the city. And when the town car came and picked us up and drove us to the Waldorf Astoria. It was a modern-day fairy tale experience. Sam knocked out his business obligation and said he’d pick Sophie and me up at five for dinner. Afterward we’d go to the play.

  Dinner was the best I’ve ever eaten: lobster swimming in a light butter sauce, bright green asparagus flanking the outer edge of the plate, and a cobbler for dessert that made me look at peaches in a whole new light. I had to double wrap Sophie’s chest with linen napkins, so the ice cream sundae she ordered with double chocolate wouldn’t drip on her party gown.

  “Sam, my cheeks hurt from all the smiling I’ve done tonight.”

  He walked on the other side of Sophie, exuding his manly smell and making my eyes feel easy like Sunday morning. Another chance to see him in a tux. He forgot to pack one, so the concierge had one sent up to his room. White tie this time. It time-warped me to that night we danced. And then the rain. How good it felt twirling with him in the driveway.

  “I’m glad you’re having fun.” He looked down and smiled at his daughter. I was jealous she got to hold his hand.

  We sat in the front row at the play. Every time I broke trance from the actors, their songs, and their magnificent costumes, I’d look over at Sam. Of course, I’d act as though I was looking aimlessly, but it was he who held my attention. He’d been a perfect gentleman—holding doors, pulling out chairs, and remarking I looked pretty. I never felt so alone and detached. But it wasn’t as though he was doing it to punish me; I knew he was giving me space. But, he looked just as alone as I felt.

  “Boy, that was one of the greatest performances I’ve ever seen.” I helped Sophie up from her chair. Despite her enthusiasm, she fell asleep three quarters way through.

  “Here, I’ll carry her.” Sam hoisted the little girl onto his shoulder. He held out his arm for me to go ahead of him.

  We got in the waiting car and rode back to the hotel. “So it was good, wasn’t it? I liked when Mary Poppins flew through the air. I wonder if she was scared of falling?”

  Sam adjusted Sophie’s head hanging on his arm. “That would’ve certainly scared me. But she did it with such style and grace. Probably practiced it a million times.”

  He looked out the window.

  “You know, no matter how many times I’ve put myself out there and gotten rejected, I’m still scared of falling.” I stared out my window and continued to talk. “I used to put all myself into each relationship, and the more I did, the harder I fell. So I began reserving myself a little bit more each time I got with someone new. I would hold back the butterflies, try to ignore the heart palpitations. Because it seemed the second I became invested, that was the moment I’d get the text, email, or note on my car windshield.” I wiped my eyes.

  “Sarah.” His hand touched mine.

  “I never had the feeling of family until I moved in with you and Sophie, Sam. I didn’t realize it, but I think I’ve been playing house. Grocery shopping, picking up Sophie from daycare. You grumbling in the morning because I threw out your Pop-Tarts and replaced them with the oat bars.”

  “Those oat bars are awful,” he interrupted.

  “Yes, but they’re better for you. They’ll keep you around longer than iced fruit on hard crust.”

  Sophie wiggled in his arms.

  “So I began getting caught up in the dream, hoping again that the next guy I dated wouldn’t reject me. That I’d find this little piece of heaven that I was living inside your house. And that’s when you proposed the notion of whatever you were proposing.” I waved my hand, as if I suddenly lost all ability of articulating.

  “And two schools of thoughts entered my mind.” I looked at him. We both jerked forward from the car stopping at a red light. “That this was not the dream scenario I’d wanted since I first planned my wedding at age five. You were you, you had a child, and there was little left for us to do some of the things first-time couples do together. Your whole life was practically lived. Your career was set, your house was built. What dreams would we talk about sharing while taking silly road trips to unplanned places on enough money for two tanks of gas? I practically came in toward the end of your life and everything was done.”

  “Gee, that sounds appealing. My life is over? I’ve no more dreams to dream?”

  “I know, sorry.” I began again. “And the second school of thought was pure fear of rejection. Okay, so what if he liked me and I liked him, and I continued to play house, and he found he didn’t want me anymore.” I looked over at him. “Hey, it’s only happened thirty times before in my life. You start figuring it’s not him, it’s you. You know what I mean?”

  The car came to a stop outside of the hotel; the driver came and opened Sam’s door. He looked at me before getting out, carrying Sophie. I hit myself in the head. Why didn’t I just shut up? Really? And you wonder why you’re single?

  We rode the elevator in silence. The couple sharing it with us shared glances with each other, before getting out on the fifth floor. I stared ahead at the lit numbers on the wall, hoping I could escape to my room and fall comatose on the down bed he’d rented me for the night.

  The bell chimed and he waited for me to go first. I placed my k
ey on the door and waited for the click. I noticed Sam was shifting the sleeping girl in his arms.

  The door lock lit green and I pressed it open. “Just lay her down. I’ll get her pajamas on. You can go to your room and get some sleep.”

  He laid her down and turned to me. “Sarah, I want to say something. Come here.”

  He led me to the sitting room that adjoined the sleeping area. Tiny lights splattered across the furniture, reflecting from the city outside my window. My body was rigid, and I shook a little. This was serious. I could feel it.

  He sat me down and then knelt in front of me.

  “Sarah, I don’t know who all those guys were who rejected you. I don’t know how you’ve come this far in life without someone seeing the true essence of you…the kindheartedness…the mad cooking skills, and the rare beauty that shines from the inside out, but that’s their fault. I didn’t kiss you those times because you were just there. Because you were just convenient. Or I wasn’t serious about kissing you. I kissed you because I wanted to experience you in a deeper capacity. Nothing I do is haphazard. I intentionally kissed you.” He looked down and touched the tip of his chin. “I’ve grappled all night with the fact that I know what your lips feel like, and all I’ve wanted to do is steal another kiss. But—”

  I didn’t let him finish. I leaned down and kissed him. It was so nice, so warm, so meaningful. He rose on his knees as I got on the ground knee to knee with him and pulled him close. Our heads tilted, our mouths opened, and his hands held the back of my head. It was amazing. It was as though he’d been on a diet and now his favorite snack was me.

  We broke when we heard Sophie whine. He rushed over and readjusted her on the pillow and pulled the blanket over her shoulders. I got up from the floor and watched him. This was not my dreamed-up formula by any stretch. But this was definitely my dream.

  The next three weeks were nothing short of sublime. Little House on the Prairie with modern-day accommodations of indoor plumbing and electricity; Leave it to Beaver, replacing Wally and the Beav with Sophie; Sex and the City, but I didn’t have two outrageously great girlfriends to hang with, except Tony and Robena, and I’d settled on the guy I wanted way before the last season. It was fabulous. Thinking back now on the day I asked Andrew to meet me at the park, even that didn’t seem so bad.