Searching For Sarah (The Sarah Series Book 1)

by Julieann Dove

  “Why don’t you come home? Why did you move away?”

  I hugged my knees and looked to the ceiling. “Where do I begin? Let’s see, I was pretty much depressed living here. I mean, I love Dad, but he’s not the happiest person alive. It was like a national holiday when he genuinely smiled at something. I felt like living here was like living under a dark cloud. He never seemed to let my mother truly go and move past it. He couldn’t for some reason. Once I got older, I began analyzing him more, and maybe she represented the only person who was truly linked to him. He never had parents or siblings. I mean, I got that he was sad without her, but he had me, and he still deserved to be happy.”

  “That’s sad. I know after my mom died of Alzheimer’s, my dad moved to Ireland. Said it was a place he always wanted to visit, but Mom wouldn’t make the plane ride. Now I go visit every couple of years. He’s taken interest in a woman there who cooks and takes care of him. I’m glad he has someone.”

  “I wish my dad had someone. It would relieve me. Instead, he lives in a room that’s big enough for a twin-sized bed, because he keeps the master room locked up.”

  “Locked?”

  “He moved out the moment he brought me home from the hospital, Aunt Heidi said. He took the crib, pushed it to the wall of my room now, and slept in there with me. He’s lived his entire life not going in the room he shared with my mother. It’s like a mausoleum. I used to think he kept Mom in there.”

  “That’s sort of creepy.”

  “Yeah. Well, I sort of watched Psycho and got some crazy ideas. I had Randy come over one day and break in. Randy was the bad boy of the school. Stole some candy bars from Jenson’s market, so I thought he’d be the one who could pick the lock.”

  “You didn’t.”

  “I did.” I smiled. “And once he picked it, I made him stay in the hall just in case Mom fell off a rocking chair or something. And her bones fell apart when she fell off it.”

  “Of course she wasn’t in there, right?”

  “Nah. Just all of her things.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like her bag was beside the bed. Her wallet, her compact mirror. And there were lotions and a hairbrush on the dresser. It was like he was preserving her, but she wasn’t there.”

  “That’s depressing.”

  “And that’s why I couldn’t wait to move. I missed Dad profusely, but I just couldn’t stay here…stay down the hall from all her things. It made me too sad. And then, of course, I went to being resentful.”

  “Resentful of what?”

  “Resentful of her for having me. Aunt Heidi said she had a few miscarriages before having me, and the doctor warned them of the danger for trying again. Something to do with a disease she had. Aunt Heidi said they kept it private.”

  “So you blame her?”

  “I just think that you know there’s a chance you aren’t going to survive childbirth, yet you do it anyway?” I shrugged. “I mean, did she ever think I wouldn’t be the lonely kid standing in the back during every Mother’s Day tea, when all the rest of the girls wore pigtails and matching dresses with their mothers? Or that I would have to make dinner every night for me and Dad because the best he could do was heat up a can of soup or fry an egg? I just think it was selfish of her.”

  I didn’t intend to get so heavy in my family’s crypt of problems. I kept it bottled up so long, the more steam I released the more that followed.

  “Did your dad ever find out you broke into the room?”

  “You don’t want to know.”

  “I do.”

  “He came home and found me in there.” I twisted my lips. “I was intrigued. I guess I didn’t hear his truck come up the drive.”

  Sam put his hand over his mouth. “Is he the type to yell and go crazy?”

  “Not until that day. He kinda came off the hinges. But he wasn’t so much angry as sad. I made Dad cry. It was horrible. Then I got angry and told him to get rid of all of it. She wasn’t here, and he slammed the door shut, took off and he didn’t come home until I was in bed. The next morning, I woke up and saw a deadbolt on the door and we never spoke of it again.”

  “Whoa.”

  “Yeah.” I stared at the clock on the back wall. “I’ve always felt sorry for him. It’s like his life stopped when Mom died. Aunt Heidi said Mom’s parents blamed him, saying he knew the ramifications of her getting pregnant, but he ignored the warning.”

  “I remember you saying you never get to see them.”

  “No, I’ve never even met them. They moved to Texas with relatives and never tried to get in touch with me. And Dad was an orphan, so I didn’t have grandparents on his side either. It’s just been me and him. And of course Aunt Heidi. She’s not really my aunt, but she was in foster care with Dad when they were little. She got adopted, but kept up with him.”

  “At least he has her.”

  “Yeah. Aunt Heidi takes care of him.”

  Sam stretched and yawned. “I can’t believe it’s this late.” He looked at his watch. “I’ll take the couch I guess. You look tired—why don’t you go to bed? Tomorrow he’ll be home and you can visit more.”

  “Okay.” I stood and kissed him on the cheek. “I can’t thank you enough for bringing me home, Sam.”

  “No need to thank me.”

  I cozied up to Sophie, who was in a deep sleep by now. I needed to hear another human breathe to soothe me and let me know I wasn’t alone. Sam was doing a good job of filling in a void, too. I’d spent my whole life looking for someone to fill that, and I reserved the giddy notion that I might’ve brought that guy home and he just met my dad—the one man who I would rather have the void filled than myself.

  “Sarah, take these fine city folk out to the barn and introduce them to the horses. Jess and Rusty have never seen people from the concrete jungle before. It’ll give ’em something to talk about over hay tonight.”

  “Dad, I think I’ll do just that.”

  I buttoned up Sophie’s jacket and shoved my feet in my shoes. “Come on, Sam. Watch where you’re stepping, though. There is no guarantee it won’t be in the middle of a pile.”

  “I think I’ll be fine.”

  Sam had to recharge his phone twice yesterday with all his business calls. He swore he could stay longer with me, but I knew the company couldn’t do without him for another day. We were flying home tomorrow. Dad, although a bit skinnier than I remember, seemed to be doing better. I’d gone to the grocery store yesterday and bought out the only two items that read low sugar. I grumbled a bit with Joe Savoy for only selling staples. I think the town was in fine shape for having bread, milk, and eggs. He needed to live a little and buy some Greek yogurt and organic fruits. Give this town a little variety.

  Sam stayed home and conducted business while I ran a few errands with Sophie. His job was also to watch and make sure Dad didn’t try to escape and do chores. Jim, Dad’s best friend and partner, was taking care of everything until Dad’s strength came back.

  “So this is a horse,” I said, presenting Mustang to my new favorite people. He was my bestest horse ever. I really wanted a Mustang for my eighteenth birthday—a Mustang car. Dad pulled this guy up to the front door, and introduced him as Mustang. He was just a quarter horse, but Dad got a kick out of the irony. He had no idea I planned to leave that next summer. I had to. I wanted to find a different kind of happiness—one I had lacked all my life.

  Sophie giggled and Sam rolled his eyes. “We know what a horse looks like, Sarah.”

  Sophie reached up. I quickly corrected her. “Don’t put your hands up to its mouth, sweetie. He doesn’t realize you aren’t a giant carrot, with little fingerlings as carrots, too.”

  Dad’s collie ran up, and Sophie took off. “She’ll be fine. Margie is like eighty-five in dog years,” I said to Sam. He had that “Dad look” where he was protector of all.

  I brushed Mustang’s mane with my hand. “Miss me, fella? I’ve missed you.”

  Sam came closer and kiss
ed me. I turned to him. “What was that for?”

  “No reason.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “What? Can’t I kiss you at will? Didn’t we have that talk where you agree to wear my class ring and I promise not to break your heart?”

  “Now you’re getting carried away, aren’t you? I haven’t seen hide nor hair of said class ring.” I put a country twang on it.

  Sophie began laughing and ran after Margie, who was trying her best to stay ahead.

  “I love you, Sarah.” He stared at me and feathered my hair with his hand.

  I stopped brushing and dropped my hand to my side. “I’ve never had someone tell me that first.”

  “I’ve never been the first to say it.”

  I pulled him to me and kissed him as slow and passionately as I knew how. He was all I ever wanted. All I ever dreamed of. And he loved me. He loved me! No gimmicks, no guilting him into saying it…he volunteered!

  He pulled away and stared at me. “Marry me.”

  “Say what?” Hello? I was just digesting the whole love me thing—what the h-e-double hockey sticks was he saying? Can someone turn up the volume on this man? Rewind, and this time play it back in slow motion.

  “Marry me. I promise to make you happy. I promise to be the guy who makes you forget all the other guys. I will prepare you coffee and have it waiting on your bedstand, pretend to know what you’re saying when you describe recipes, and draw you hot baths on days when you don’t even have energy for a shower.” He held up a finger. “Oh, and pretend to be just as angry with the driver who tried to cut you off in traffic.”

  “Uh…” My mind stalled. I had nothing.

  “What do you say?” He held me firmly with both hands. “Will you take on the life as my wife, and Sophie’s mother? I see the way she looks at you…like you’re the best thing since chicken nuggets and mustard sauce.” He shook me a little. “Sarah? Are you in there somewhere?”

  I didn’t figure my lips were shut. I felt air coming into my gaping mouth. Were those my feet at the end of my legs? Was my heart still pumping? All I could see was his lips moving, and register some sort of question coming forth from his lips. I could very well be imagining it. I did this often. Hear things in my head that weren’t really happening.

  “Sarah?”

  “Yeah, I’m just thinking about what you said.”

  “Okay.” He stepped back.

  “Are you sure? I mean, is it the smell of manure that’s got you like this? I realize it’s not the filtered air you’re accustomed to at home. This is somewhat organic. It can produce crazy results. A girl I knew who once—”

  He shook me again. “Are you going to answer my question, Sarah? Or are you going to babble on about manure and—”

  “Yes!” I shouted. “Yes, I’ll marry you. Of course I will.”

  He grabbed me and swung me around.

  “Of course, do you see the irony in all of this?”

  “No, what irony?”

  “I move away in hopes of finding a guy to propose. I spend years of my life in search of said man, and then I bring one home, and that’s when it finally happens.”

  “I hope I’m the one you wanted most.”

  “You’re the only one I truly wanted most.” I kissed him again and was on my fourth time when Sophie ran up to us.

  Sam leaned over and picked her up. “Sophie, Sarah just said she’d marry me.”

  Her eyes popped open large. “Marry? Like Ariel? A princess wedding? Can I come? Can Margie come to?” She giggled, looking down at the old dog standing, panting beside Sam.

  “Better than that—you can be the ring girl.” I kissed her on the head.

  “This means Sarah will be your mother.”

  A shiver danced up my spine. Mother. Like the one I never had. I suddenly felt nostalgic for my mother. As many messed-up feelings that I had for her, missing her was the one I possessed most. Just like all those missed tea parties at school I had to attend, my wedding would be where I ached the most for her. I looked at Sophie, grinning at Sam. She was finally going to have what I never did. And I was so happy for her. No matter how lost I felt at the moment. How unequipped, and ill-informed. I mean, how does one become a mother who never had one?

  “Oh my gosh!” I covered my mouth.

  “What?” Sam asked.

  “I get to tell Dad. I’m here. I get to tell him in person!” I squealed. “He’s going to be so happy.”

  “About that.” Sam looked down. “I sort of asked him already. Unless he thinks you’d say no, I don’t think he’s going to be too surprised.”

  “You asked him?” I pushed hard on his arm.

  “Yeah. What? Are you sad I did? Did you want to be the first one to know? I’m sorry. I thought I was doing the right thing.”

  “You couldn’t have done it any more perfectly.” I pulled him down and hugged him hard. “Thank you, Sam. I know that pleased him so much.”

  “You should’ve seen him.”

  “Let’s go and tell him I said no,” I joked, pulling him to come.

  “Sarah,” Sam called out as we turned toward the house.

  “I’m just messing. Let’s go and tell him you asked.”

  Dad was the happiest I’ve ever seen him. Happier than when that old crotch down at the country store started carrying pistachio ice cream.

  “Sarah, let’s do this.”

  I looked up from handing Sophie a cup of milk. “Do what, Dad?”

  He was on his easy chair, which was almost as rare as seeing him lay in a bed. I had a suspicion he didn’t feel as well as he was telling me.

  “Let’s do the wedding.”

  “Dad, he just proposed. I have to give him the proper time to back out.” I looked at Sam. “And then there’s all the hope I have to strum up, the endless magazines I have to cut pictures from, and…Dad, I don’t even have a ring.”

  “I’m fixing that today,” Sam interrupted.

  “Honey, it’s no big deal. And if you think you’re going shopping in the big town of Calbert, just a warning—if it isn’t ammo, seed, or feed, you have to travel a teeny bit farther.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Sarah. I’m not getting your ring in Calbert.”

  I squished my forehead.

  Dad spoke up. “What about all those books in your room? Don’t they have some planning stuff in them?” He looked at Sam. “She made me buy her a wedding book every time we went to the city. I never got it. It wasn’t like she was getting married any time soon—she was in the eighth grade, for Pete’s sake.”

  I held up my hand. “Okay, for the record, he bought me five—six tops. And Dad, I’m pretty sure fifteen years later, you can bet with certainty that none of those wedding dress designs exist, anyway. And, you can forget about all the coupons I saved for fifty percent off honeymoon destinations. They were always offering half-off for stays in Aruba. What’s wrong with Aruba?”

  “Well, maybe you could wear…” He looked down and cleared his throat. “That is, maybe…she was about your size.” He shielded his eyes.

  “Dad?”

  “It’s just that your mother’s dress is in the room. It’s nothing fancy. She wasn’t into fancy. It’s a plain white, smooth thing. No lace, but it was kind of poofy.” His throat caught.

  My dad discussing my mother? About anything? It was a rarity. I didn’t know what to say. Luckily, I had a little girl who was hungry for lunch and she was relentlessly pulling on my hand, hoping I’d get up and make her a sandwich.

  “Dad, that would be awesome.” My heart did that achy thing again.

  “Well, fine then. I’ll get it for you. You can try it on, and figure out if…” His voice trailed.

  I got up from the sofa and walked quietly into the kitchen and made lunch for everyone. Dad brought out the dress and laid it on the chair in the living room. I kept my eye on it, keeping busy with cleaning up lunch. I wanted to somehow preserve the whole experience of touching anything that belonged to my
mother. Especially something so important that she wore on her most important day.

  “Sarah, I think we should get married here. With your dad present.”

  “What?” I tried to keep my voice down. Dad and Sophie had gone to bed. “He can certainly travel to Charleston, Sam. It’s not like he’s never been on a plane.” I tilted my head. “I take that back. I don’t think he has. That’s why he’s never been to one of my graduations. But there’s a first for everything. Charleston holds so much more opportunity for florist and caterers. The most we have here is Margaret Thimble, the local florist. She cuts from her own flower gardens and if it needs to be delivered, she turns the sign on the door and drives it in her Ford pickup.”

  He rubbed my hand that rested on the table. “I know, but he’s comfortable here. And you grew up here. You’d have more people to invite from here than back home. These people watched you grow up.”

  “Sam.” I withdrew my hand. “What are you not saying?”

  I’d been with him long enough to know he was up to something.

  He grinned and rubbed his scruffy cheeks. “What? Of course I’m not not saying anything.” He pulled both my hands to the table and covered them tightly with his own. “I just want to marry you right now. I don’t want to be not married to you for one more minute.”

  Ah, so I get it. The sleeping arrangements—of course, that was it. I’d mentioned in one of our conversations that I wanted to have my forever guy be the one I waited until we were married. Fairy tale in this day and age, but it was a dream. And so far we hadn’t crossed that bridge, pulled back those sheets, or engaged in extra-curricular activity. Not that I didn’t want to. It was extremely difficult to push the off button on him once he got started.

  “Sam, I’m not going to make you wait, if that’s what’s fueling the beast of ‘get it done.’”

  He shook his head and chuckled. “Not that it hasn’t crossed my mind, but I just know what I want, who I want, and I don’t want to wait any longer.” He put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a box.