Falling For Sarah (Sarah Series Book 3)

by Julieann Dove

  “You miss her.”

  He changed positions and wiped his chin with his hand. “I’m getting past her.”

  “It’s difficult. You thought one thing; she thought another. I understand.”

  “The plan was to move out of the city. When she got this opportunity, we had a huge fight. I wanted her to live her dream, but when did I take place in it? Did I ever? Did our daughter? I was always the one going to June’s things because she’d get a stupid call from her agent about something that ended up resulting in nothing.”

  “June’s things?”

  “Yeah. Up until last year, she was in the orchestra. She plays the cello. She’s amazing at it. You should hear her play. Then her mother accepted the part in California, I threw a fit, put down escrow on a house I’d never seen, hired designers to set it up, and June went into grunge mode. Or whatever they call it now. I call it punk rock. She hates that, by the way.”

  “I think the appropriate term is grunge. Which is sad, if this is what provoked it. I wonder if the other guidance counselor knows any of this. It would explain her trips to detention.”

  “Detention?”

  “Oh no. She didn’t? Of course not.” I shielded my eyes and looked to the ground. “Please don’t tell her I said anything. She’s gotten detention a few times.”

  He palmed his head. “I can’t believe it. I just can’t believe it. June was never in trouble. Never even hung out with other kids who got into trouble.”

  “Does she still talk to her mom?”

  “When Sasha remembers to call her.”

  “So June didn’t want to move here either?”

  “She wanted to move with her mom. Which makes no sense. Sasha never even acted like her mom when she was around. She was busy going on auditions, practicing for off-Broadway shows, out at all-night parties, on the off-chance she’d meet a director or producer to give her a leg up on her career. I hate to say this, but she resented having June. When we found out she was pregnant, she went into a deep depression. She thought this was the end to her pursuit of acting.”

  “So, you all are…?”

  He looked puzzled at the half-asked question. I hoped I wouldn’t have to spell it out. Should I even be asking? Oh my goodness, I was that nosey neighbor, wasn’t I? Every sitcom had one. Yikes.

  “Divorcing? Separating?”

  “Well, we’re not together. That’s safe to say. She doesn’t even know this address, I’m pretty sure. Although I’ve given it to her on several occasions. She wanted us to move to California with her.”

  “And you didn’t want to.”

  “No. The plan was if she didn’t get this last part she was auditioning for, we’d move here to Colorado. She could go back to school, find a local drama theater, do some things while we had a couple more years with June at home.”

  “And she bailed.”

  “Did she ever. Now it’s me and June.” He nodded, looking at the clear sky.

  “Wow.”

  “How long has it been for you? Without…Sam? Was that his name?”

  “Yeah, Sam. A long time. Six years, to be exact. Give or take.” I grinned.

  “I’m not sure the last time I felt I was in a relationship. I think toward the end we were pretty much roommates. She was never there when she was. My focus is on June now. I want her to get better. To get over it. To move on in a healthy way. Get that crap off her face, dress like she used to, and pick up the cello again.”

  “You do realize her whole world has changed, right? Her mom isn’t here. And although she might not have always been there for her, at least she showed up every now and then and shared the same address.”

  “Sasha’s been in California for nine months. Wait, maybe more—she left right after Christmas. We lived separate lives before then, though. I’m certain she was seeing one of the directors of a play she was in. I was too busy with my career and raising June to prove it, though.”

  “I’m sorry it’s been difficult for you.”

  “It’s okay. My mother said she never liked her anyway!” He busted out laughing. “My mother always wanted a Spanish girl for me, you know?”

  “Yeah, well.”

  “So that’s my story.”

  “A story, indeed.”

  Rose opened the back door and looked around the area for me.

  I called out, “Rose, I’m here. What’s wrong?”

  “June is on the phone. I want to go home now, Mommy.”

  I stood. “Okay. I’ll be in in a second.”

  Alex stood beside me. “I think I got lucky moving into a house next to you. I really enjoyed cooking for you tonight.”

  I pulled at the strings on his sweatshirt, twisting them between my fingers. “I enjoyed eating it, trust me. It’s been forever, if ever, that I was cooked for. I appreciate it.” My feet shuffled. “Okay, well I guess I’ll take Rose home, and I’ll see you later.” I began to take off his sweatshirt.

  “No, you wear it home. It’s chilly. I’ll just get it from you when I see you next time.”

  I pulled it back down. “Okay.”

  I slowly walked toward the back door to get Rose. Teenage feelings of “I’m wearing his high school letter jacket” flashed through my mind. My cheeks hurt from smiling as I grabbed for the door and called my baby girl to come along. Alex tousled her hair and winked good-bye. She sheepishly grinned and grabbed hold of my hand. We walked back to the house underneath the blanket of stars.

  I was a bit surprised when I saw Carter Williams in my driveway, standing in front of his car.

  “Well looky there.” I sauntered down my driveway, feeling all sure of myself, having come from a swingset with another boy. “I didn’t think you remembered the address to my house.” I think the last time he’d graced my place was when we were giving a push to the boundaries of our friendship. Gosh, that was light-years away. Was it a figment of my imagination?

  Rose ran toward him and crashed into his waiting arms. “Carter!”

  “Rosey Posey!” He picked her up and threw her in the air. No matter what, he still loved Rose.

  “So what brings you here?”

  He placed Rose gingerly on the ground, and stared at me, using his principal look. “Where in the heck were you all? I’ve called, texted, banged on your doors. I’m pretty sure the police are on their way, the way that lady across the street was giving me the surveillance eyes.”

  I looked over and waved at Mrs. Patillo. Sometimes it paid to have a nosey neighbor. She grimaced and walked back inside, slamming the door behind her. Okay.

  “I was—”

  “We were over at June’s house. And Alex’s. He lives there, too. He’s her daddy.” Rose beamed and began getting tongue-tied, wanting to get it all out before I spoiled the surprise we actually had kind neighbors who didn’t wear a set of binoculars like everyday jewelry. Ones who had teenage daughters that Rose could think was really cool and tell her friends about at school.

  “June?” He looked at me. “June Cruz, the one who was in detention.”

  As if he didn’t know. Liz probably filled in anything he missed hearing in the lounge. He probably grilled her for it. Or maybe I was full of myself, wanting to believe I even existed in his mind, and he would want to know anything going on in my small, pathetic world.

  “That’s the one. Now, why are you here? Did you need something?” Because there is a little thing I’d like to think of as a phone. Not that he’s used that device in my regards, either. I crooked my head, waiting for an answer that involved how much he couldn’t live without me anymore. Yeah, right.

  Rose stood with her hand on her hip. He looked down at her; something was pressed in his hand.

  “Are you sure she’s the type of girl you want you-know-who hanging out with?” He stole a glance at Rose and pointed a finger behind his other hand holding the paper.

  “She’s fine.”

  “Yeah, she’s fine. She drew a picture of me.” Rose waved her hand in a no-problem kind o
f way.

  “Now, what’s going on? What did you need to see me about?”

  Rose skipped inside the house, annoyed the conversation was moving away from her. I peered at the paper Carter held in his hand.

  “This came in on the fax before I left. It’s addressed to the guidance department. I thought it might be important.”

  I took it from him and looked it over. “Carter, this is a transcript. I could’ve gotten it tomorrow.” I peered closer. “And it’s for Jason, not me.”

  He grabbed it back, squinting to appear concerned. “Now, that’s confusing. It said the guidance department. And excuse me for wanting to bring you what I thought was important.”

  I smiled. Did this mean the drought of his disappearance was over? Was this a toe dipping in the water of visits to my house again? “Want to come in?”

  He scuffed his feet on the gravel and bore holes into the tops of his shoes with his intent stare. Finally he shrugged.

  “Okay, come in.” I motioned toward the door and he followed, hands tucked in his pockets and chin tucked to his chest. What was up with this guy? Did he have a first fight with whomever he was dating?

  I skipped over to get my ringing phone on the counter. I looked at the screen. Sam. I pressed to answer. Carter leaned against the kitchen counter, resting on his elbow.

  “Hello.”

  “Sarah?”

  “Yeah. What’s going on?”

  “I wanted to talk with Rose. I haven’t had a chance this week, and I want to know how it’s going. How is it going, by the way? I mean with you, too?”

  I’d lie if I didn’t say his voice affected me. It still made me feel like the very second right before going down a roller coaster hill—hopeful, scared, and a little bit anxious. I could imagine him in his study, his hair neatly parted, his white starched shirt pulled out. Some might say that my single status butt was somewhat lucky in the guy department. The demented ones, that is. I am single, but all the men I’ve had the good fortune to be involved with have left a savory aftertaste—one that I can think back and remember the good times.

  “I’m good. Rose has a new friend. She’s pretty stoked about her being older.” I bit my nail and leaned against the cabinet door.

  “She does have an older sister, or has she forgotten?”

  “No, she hasn’t. It’s just not easy when they live far apart.”

  Silence. “Is she near? Can I talk to her?”

  “Yeah, I’ll take the phone to her.”

  I whispered I’d be right back to Carter. He seemed preoccupied with some stray paperclips that’d fallen out of my bag onto the counter earlier, trying to seem as though he wasn’t listening.

  I gave the phone to Rose, who was in her room, combing her doll’s hair. Three of them were lined up on her bed, ready for what looked like a party. “Your dad wants to talk to you.”

  She grabbed the phone as though it were her favorite Disney Princess on the other end wanting to confab about the ball next week. “Daddy?”

  I walked out and left her to talk. A pang of guilt stirred in my stomach. What kind of mother thought it was okay for her daughter to get weekly calls from her dad? What was this doing to her, that therapy twice a week when she grew up wouldn’t work out?

  Carter was pulling something from my fridge when I got back to the kitchen. I rolled my eyes and sat down at the table. “I see you remember where the fridge is. Do you have food where you come from?”

  He was chewing something when he answered. “Not good food. It’s usually still in the box that I cooked it from.”

  “Carter! I’m getting you cooking lessons this year for Christmas. Boxed food is not your friend!”

  He pulled out the plate of chicken and sat down. “Classes won’t help, trust me.” He grabbed a bite of food and stuffed it in his mouth. “This is good. What is it?”

  “Chicken.”

  Wiping the corner of his mouth, he looked up at me. “I know that! What kind? I’m tasting some sort of spice.”

  “Salt and pepper.”

  “Why are you so rotten?” His sneer was comical and the way he shook his head made me laugh.

  I palmed my chest. “Me? Okay, it’s rosemary, a little thyme, and some basil. Rose picked at it at best when I sat it in front of her. Didn’t really like it as much as eggplant with garlic pasta on the side.”

  “She obviously doesn’t know what Banquet chicken looks like. And eggplant? Isn’t that that cool purple-y thing? I’ve seen it but never had the pleasure of consuming it. It looks like it would taste like perfume or something chewy.”

  “Perfume? Chewy?”

  “Well, it’s so not the color of food you normally eat. I tend to stick to the yellows, browns, and every so often pink.”

  “Okay, well, I’ll have to ask you over the next time I make it. Maybe.” I flipped through a magazine I had lying on the table.

  He licked his fingers. “So I’m guessing that call didn’t go well.”

  “That call?” I pointed toward the other room, as if I didn’t know he was referring to Sam. “It went well enough. He calls to talk to Rose. He feels a bit absent lately, I guess. Maybe he’s been busy.”

  “I see. So he’s not—? I thought— I mean, after—”

  Rose busted into the kitchen and handed me my phone. “Maggie keeps calling. Daddy said to take the phone to you. He hung up. He’ll call back later.”

  I shrugged and pressed the button to take the call. “Maggie?”

  “Thank goodness. What took you so long? I’ve hung up a couple times to call again.”

  “Rose was talking to Sam. Are you okay? Is everything all right with Charlie?”

  “No, no, it’s not all right. Not at all.”

  “Slow down and tell me what’s wrong.” I stood and began pacing. Carter waited, examining my expressions. He’d even stopped prodding the cold chicken on the plate.

  “You’ve got to have something this weekend. Something big. Maybe do a…no, do a…no. I know! Have an important party. Say it’s Liz’s birthday, or maybe she passed the bar exam, or oh, I know, say she’s coming back home from being away for a year. Howard doesn’t know any better. Just say it’s for something huge and we have to attend!”

  “Okay, now you’re really making me wonder if you’re not dropping acid at this very minute, Maggie. This is Sarah. You called Sarah Keller.” I spoke very slowly, enunciating my every word. “And you’re Maggie. Now what in the world are you wanting me to have a party for? And a fake one at that? Who’s chasing you? Where are you, and should I call the police? I think your phone can be traced if you’ve been abducted.”

  “Didn’t you hear what I said? It’s Howard. He wants to take me away for the night. I’ve managed to escape the past two weekends. Mom has had knee surgery and my cat died so far.”

  “Is your mom okay? I didn’t know she needed surgery. And, wait. You don’t have a cat.”

  “Mom is fine. She obviously can’t come around until she’s not supposed to be limping anymore and there’s no need for a walker, and no, I don’t have a cat. But Howard doesn’t know that.”

  I rolled my eyes at Carter and pointed to the phone as if it were a crazy person on the other line. “Why don’t you want to go away with Howard? I thought it’s been going okay. You’ve moved past the awkward door scene, he’s been over past twelve, and he’s aware of your foot fetish.”

  Carter cocked an eye. I grinned.

  “Yeah, that’ll be the last time he shows his bare feet.”

  I grimaced. “Okay, so back to why you don’t want to go away. Is it Charlie? I thought you were cool with your mom watching him. Or Michael. Isn’t it Michael’s weekend?”

  I heard Carter groan at the mention of Michael. I shot him a look.

  “Yes, it’s Michael’s weekend. Exactly. And I have no more cats to kill off and Mom has only one more knee I can mutilate. I can’t do this, Sarah. I can’t. He wants to take me to a bed-and-breakfast and then to meet his parents. His
parents!” She was breathing heavy into the phone.

  “Okay, and that’s something bad. Very bad.” I was trying my best to empathize with someone who had someone else wanting to commit to them. Really? And she sees a problem here? We’re talking about a lifetime of free medical care…midnights even, if Charlie woke up and had strange spots on his arms, or a little cough that drove you crazy but the receptionist at the pediatrician screens your calls to the doctor so you have to use over-the-counter anything just to get a good night’s sleep. Maggie had a winner on her hands here, and didn’t even know it!

  “Yes! You’re catching on. Finally.”

  “Do you like him or not, Maggie? I thought he passed the tests. He has a great job, his teeth are impeccable, he’s got no strange body odors, and he still opens car doors for you. A Neanderthal he is not. And now that the rule of the socks is in place…well, it’s downhill from here.”

  “But I’m not that serious.”

  “You let him take Charlie to the park. Alone. There wasn’t even fingerprinting involved. You didn’t let me do that until he was two and could tell you I didn’t let him slide alone.”

  “I know! And if Michael found out Howard took him, he’d kill me.”

  Maggie was in a pinch that day and needed to go out to the store for groceries. Charlie was a complete monster in the cart—pulling cans, jars, advertisements off shelves. So she asked whether Howard wanted to take him to the park. It’s a block away from her house. I’m sure he felt it would score him major points if he did. It was reassuring to her when she got home and Charlie was still in one piece, not beheaded and still able to function like before she left. She did have a rule to navigate the whole Howard thing if it ever got back to Michael, as he was their doctor and a friend who liked visiting. He was in no way allowed to touch, kiss, or say sweet nothings to her in Charlie’s presence.

  “So you have spent weeks with this man, talked hours to him at night after your child goes to bed, and you’re not serious enough to hang out at a B&B and say hey to Mom and Dad?”

  “Perish the thought. I’m not even at the point that I could wave at them speeding by in a train compartment.”

  I didn’t have the time or energy right then to defuse this bomb. I could see she was adamant about not seeing this lovely man’s parents. “Okay. So we’ll have a party you must come to. I think it’s kind of corny, but whatever.”