I went to take it. He drew back. “Oh, must be a good one. Let me guess? Mullet hair, braces, and tie-dye shirts?”
He flipped open the first page and it was our wedding day. Aunt Heidi gave me all the ones she had taken. Why not put them in a book? The bottom of the closet was taken with my mismatched shoes.
I watched as his jovial face turned to stone. Slowly the toothy grin was gone.
“I just have the ones my aunt took. She’s an amateur at best.” I tried to play it off. Why had I even made space for that day? It seemed to me sometimes it didn’t even happen.
His head tilted as he flipped through more pages, studying them closer. Thinking thoughts I’d never know.
“Rose loves looking through them. It does wonders for her attachment toward you.”
He looked up from the book. The house had grown quiet. “I’m glad she has something to refer to. It was a busy day, wasn’t it?”
“I was so nervous. I remember Dad asking what that noise was and I realized it was my teeth chattering.”
“What? Your teeth were chattering?”
“Yeah. I was so anxious.”
“About what? About me? Didn’t you want to marry me?”
I looked at him there—in his white tee shirt, his blue lounge pants, Old Spice wafting from the steamy shower room. Of course I wanted to marry him. I was in love with him. I had waited so long to have someone want me; it was just overwhelming when it came right down to it.
“Sure I did. I had to pinch myself several times that day to realize it was really happening.”
He stared off toward the wall. “It was pretty amazing. Do you remember that guy who came up to you and asked you to dance?” He held his side and laughed at the image in his mind.
“Uh, yeah. I think he just stumbled in from the street. Five of his front teeth were missing and he smelled like rotten onions.”
He covered his laugh with his balled fist. “And your dad pointed out someone else for him to go and ask?”
“Dad was awful.”
“Yeah, but he really loved you. I was happy he had that moment. To walk you down the aisle.”
I fought the frog developing in my throat. “I’m sorry, Sam.”
“For what?”
“For not telling you about Rose.”
He closed the book and set it on top of the others. “It’s in the past, Sarah.”
“I know, but that was wrong of me. And I know it now. I guess I knew it then, but I was petrified of sharing her with you and Gennifer.”
“You had good reason to be…about her. But don’t you think I had better sense than to ever let Rose be hurt by someone?”
“I guess.” I pulled at the comforter on my bed, straightening it. “I just want you to have the kind of relationship with her like me and my dad had. I’m glad you showed up when you did. I’m not proud of telling you about her the way it happened, but I’m pleased you know her now. And I see a change in her since you two have met and grown closer.”
“You do?”
“I do.” I leaned against the dresser. “She’s more confident. She knows who she is. There’s no guessing. No making up stories to tell her friends. She simply says you live far away and she gets to do all kinds of things when she sees you. She almost makes it sound like she’s got the better world than the other kids who have their dad live with them.” I shrugged. “Who knows, maybe she’s just masking her pain with saying those things. I’m hoping she’s not being affected adversely.”
He stood, adjusting the waistline of his pants. “Well, I certainly hope not either. I’m proud to have her as my daughter. And I think she has a wonderful mother who’s done a great job in raising her. I’m over the hurt now, Sarah. It took me awhile, but I’ve made peace with it. I want to be a good dad—like your dad was with you.”
“I’m glad to know you don’t carry a personalized voodoo doll of me. I realize I can never go back and change things. It makes me feel better to hear you’ve made peace about it. Thank you.” I was truly humbled by what he said. “I hated myself for so long for doing that to you.”
“I know, and it’s in the past. Let’s focus on her future.”
“And Sophie. I feel like I have two girls.”
He stretched and held his hand to cover his yawn.
“Well, this is your bed for the night. I hope you get good sleep. It’s never done me wrong.”
He watched as I turned back the sheets. “Not on your life. I’m not sleeping here while you’re on a sofa. Point me to a blanket and I’ll be out in ten minutes. I’m bushed. I won’t know if I’m on a rock or thumbtacks. Really, Sarah. Let me sleep on the sofa.”
I sighed. “Okay, okay. I made it up for myself. But if you get a stiff neck, don’t blame me. I offered you a bed.”
“Duly noted.” He went to leave and turned before he got to the door. “Sleep tight.”
“You, too.”
I closed my door gently and fell against it. Sam Turner always managed to get me reliving happier days…days that I felt good to be a part of a family. It was the only one I knew, other than mine with my dad.
The morning turned crazy when the girls woke up. I got up before anyone else and began getting the turkey ready for the oven. Sam was stretched out on the sofa, arm above his head, when I walked through the living room. He stirred from the noise I made and eventually came into the kitchen and sat at the table, watching me. It was nice having someone stay over.
“Hey girls, have your dad make you some breakfast.”
He jerked his neck, looking over at me. “What? Have we forgotten what that looks like?”
“Cereal?”
“Oh, okay. I can do that.”
I smiled. “I knew you could. The cereal’s in the cabinet over there.” I pointed and noticed the girls watching us.
Sam sat at the table while they ate and goofed off, telling the story of Tom the Turkey. I wasn’t sure it was so appropriate. After all, we did have a tom in the oven and I really wanted them to eat later.
“Okay, go and get dressed, girls. Rose, don’t forget to wear your tights.” I gave her the mother-said-so look and smiled at Sophie.
“I’ll help!”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“Everything smells wonderful, Sarah. I miss that in my kitchen.” He stood at the sink and rinsed two bowls out.
“Thanks. I just hope my cake turns out. It’s a new recipe.”
He walked over and looked over my shoulder while I poured the frothy batter in the pan. I heard him breathe, he was so close.
“I’m sure it will be the best. You make the best everything.”
The girls burst into the kitchen. I noticed no tights on Rose and rolled my eyes. Sophie was wearing a gray and pink jumper. She threw her hair back in a ponytail while Rose’s stood straight up from the static electricity of her dress.
“Mom, can I lick the bowl?”
“Honey, this has three raw eggs in it. Not this time.”
“Have you made the frosting yet?” Sam asked.
“Not yet.”
“Well, I get that bowl then.” He winked at Rose when he said it.
“Sam Turner. You remember the last time you tried to lick a bowl?”
He cocked his eye and sighed.
“Tell me, tell me. What happened?” Sophie pleaded.
I looked over at him while I began the story. “Your dad thought I was making frosting one day, and—”
“And,” he interrupted. “She tricked me.”
“Tricked you?” My hand flew to my hip.
“Yeah, tricked me.” He came closer and grabbed my side.
I squealed. “Stop that. And for your information and cloudy memory, I never told you I was making frosting. You assumed it was because it was white.”
“You could’ve said something before I put that big heaping spoonful in my mouth.”
“I wanted to wait and see your reaction.”
“What was it?” Sophie asked, puzzled.
I began to laugh. “It was slaw dressing.” I could tell she was clueless. “It’s the white stuff that’s in coleslaw.”
“It was bitter and tasted awful.” His face contorted when he said it.
“Well yeah, when you think it’s frosting.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”
“Needless to say, your dad didn’t go putting any fingers or spoons in any more of my bowls.”
The girls teased and giggled.
“Hey Mom, let’s put some Christmas music on.”
Rose went and switched on the radio I keep on the counter. “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree” was playing. They’d already switched over most stations to Christmas by now. Or maybe they did it the morning after Halloween. All I knew is it got sooner and sooner each year.
Sam whisked Rose up in the air and began swinging her around to the tune. I pulled Sophie from her chair and twirled her around. It was a sight to behold. My cares began to lift and I reflected on my dad. I always did when I was sublimely happy.
The song changed to “Sleigh Ride” and Sophie broke away and pulled on Rose’s leg. They pretended to be reindeer dashing through the snow. “Dance with Daddy, Mommy. Take his hand. We’re riding through the snow!”
Sam looked at me out of the corner of his eye. I pulled back my hair. It was awkward, to say the least. The last time we danced, we were different in each other’s lives. Before I could stroke back my hair anymore, he came over and placed his hand behind my back and began bopping like the girls. My head fell backward, laughing. It was so much fun being so silly. When the song came to a stop, he released me and I walked to the oven to check the cake. The girls disappeared into Rose’s room as “Away in the Manger” took over the radio waves.
“Sarah, I need to talk to you about something.”
I shoved the pan back in and set the clock for five more minutes. Wait, did he say…? I walked to the sink and began rinsing the carrots. Maybe if I didn’t respond, he wouldn’t want to talk. Suddenly, my carefree mood had been suffocated by talk. Never a good sign.
“Did you hear me?”
“Uh, yeah. What’s it about? It’s never good when you have to preface it with the need to talk. Why not just talk? Simply just talk.”
“Because it’s serious. Don’t people address serious things more than just going off the cuff about it?”
I took a deep breath and continued to watch the carrot shavings hit the aluminum sink bottom. Before I knew it, I’d dropped the peeler. I heard the ding echo.
Wiping my hands on the front of my pants, I went in search of my bag and keys. “I’ve got to go get something I forgot. I’ll be right back.”
“What? Now? What do you have to get? And where are you going to get it? Isn’t everything closed today? It’s Thanksgiving, Sarah.”
I bent over and picked up my things by the table leg. “Jenson’s is open until noon. He knows people forget last-minute things. Case in point. I better get there before he closes.” I smiled and reached for the knob. My hand slightly shook.
“Okay. What about the cake?”
“Oh shoot. Right. Well, take it out when the buzzer goes off. Set it on top of the stove.”
“Okay, and what about the turkey?”
“Sam, I’ll only be a minute. The turkey has a couple more hours of baking.”
I didn’t even take my coat off the peg. I slammed the door shut and ran for my car. The last time he wanted to talk serious to me, he said he wanted to get back together. I needed to think about this. I needed to prepare myself for what to say.
I drove like a maniac to Maggie’s house. She would know what to do. I could bounce some theories off her, prepare some facts, face some realities.
I banged on the door, blowing warm air into my hands. She finally opened it. In her robe. I was taken off guard. “What are you still doing in your pajamas? It’s like late.”
She trailed off to the living room. “Whatever.”
I caught up with her and pulled on her arm. “Okay, so listen to my crisis.”
She made it to the comfy blue chair in the corner and plopped down.
I squatted next to her on the floor. “Sam’s at my house.”
“Yeah, I know. Remember, you told me he was coming.”
“Okay, but did I tell you he wants to talk seriously to me? No, I didn’t. Because he just told me that about five minutes ago.”
“So why are you here? What did he say?”
“Um, I don’t know. I said I needed to go and get something.”
She sat up. “What? Then you don’t know what he wants?”
“I think he wants to get back together.”
Her eyes bulged. “And?”
“And I don’t know.”
“Don’t know what? I mean, you wanted him, right? You said it could never be because he didn’t know about Rose. Well, he knows about Rose and he still wants to be with you. What’s the problem?”
“Maybe. He maybe wants to be with me. He didn’t say it for real.”
“Yeah, because you left.” She looked at me strangely. “Where’s your coat?”
“I left without one. I was totally freaked. I even left with a cake in the oven.”
She smacked my arm. “Sarah, get back home and tell him you’d love to get back together. Gee, I wish I had this problem. That a man I loved wanted me.”
Did I love him? Any more in that way? Everything was happening so fast. I’d sort of closed the book on Sam Turner. I had stopped romanticizing about a future with him. Now all I did was check off holidays I got Rose and the ones he did.
“You’re going to be fine, Maggie. But seriously, why the robe still? It’s like after morning. The rooster has crowed. Lunch is approaching. Soon there will—”
“Because my life is crap, that’s why.”
“It is not.”
“It’s in the eye of the beholder, my dear.”
I buried my head. In a whisper, I confessed my problem. “I’m scared, Maggie.”
“Scared of what?”
I looked up. “I don’t know.”
“Do you want this chance to pass you again?”
“No. I don’t know.” I jumped up and pulled the sides of my hair. “I don’t know!”
She stood. “Okay, you go home and on the way, think about if Sam left. If he asked you, you said no, and this was it. The real it. Would this make you relieved or would it make you feel like something is missing? Like you missed a huge opportunity?”
I trudged toward the door without comment. Before I pulled the door, I turned around. “This life stuff stinks sometimes.”
“Tell me about it.”
I left to go to Jenson’s to find something I needed and had to leave the house for. Hopefully he was still open.
Paper towels? No. A can of Spam? Not on your life. I touched the things down aisle one and two, wondering what it would take me to leave my house in a fit and go in search of it at the store. Hummus! Yes! That’s what I needed. Not really. I’d never even had the stuff, but Sam wouldn’t know that. I grabbed it and turned to go pay, happy I’d found something, when I bumped into Michael.
“Michael? What in the world are you doing here?” I looked around to see if he had been dragged there against his will. Seriously? Jenson’s? On Thanksgiving?
“I saw you come in. I was at the coffee shop across the street.”
“Are you coming for Thanksgiving?” Maggie never said whether she was coming alone or not.
“Not sure.”
“Okay, well, I need to pay for this and get back. I’m majorly late in putting on my sides.”
“Can I talk to you? It’ll only take a minute.”
“Sure. Okay. Just give me a second.”
I paid the cashier, who looked like she was sitting on a seat of thorns, and headed out to look for where Michael went. He was waiting around the corner.
“Let’s get in my car. I’m freezing.”
“Where is your coat?”
&nb
sp; “Long story.”
He jumped in and I started the car to get the heat going. “What’s up?”
“Maggie’s late.”
My eyes snapped up from flicking the heat to a higher temperature. “Excuse me? Late for what?” As if I didn’t know. But I was hoping maybe for dinner, late for getting jokes, late for…
“Late as in pregnant.”
“Oh, that late.” I stared forward. Yep, the robe, the crappy life. Why didn’t she say something?
He rubbed his pants and bit his lip. “What am I going to do?”
“I don’t know why she didn’t mention it. I was just there.” I palmed my head. “Of course, she didn’t have a chance. I was sort of unloading my own dumpster of junk on her.”
“What’s wrong with you?”
“Me? Nothing.”
“I’m not ready for another kid, Sarah. I love Charlie, you know that. I’m just not sure about Maggie and me. We’ve been living separately for almost five months now.”
“I know.”
“And would this mean we’re getting back for the baby? What about what we want? Is it healthy to raise a child with them being the only thing that’s keeping the people together?”
“All very good points. Do you not want to be with Maggie?”
He looked out the window, away from me. “I love Maggie. We had a good run. I just don’t think we’re those two same people we were.”
“Okay, so tell her that.”
“What? I can’t have her have this baby alone. What kind of guy do you think I am?”
“An honest one. Maybe she can meet someone who feels differently about her. Maybe he can be in both their lives.”
“And raise my kid like his own?” He shook his head. “I don’t think so. That’s not right.”
I touched his leg. “Michael, you’re not afforded your cake and eat it too. Let her go and find happiness. You, too. The baby will be like Charlie. You can see it when you have visitation.”
He shook his head. “This is so not right. Why did I make love to her that day? What was I thinking?”
“You were thinking how nice it was to remember. You were thinking about better times. And you weren’t thinking with your head.” I looked over my nose when I said the last point.
Falling For Sarah (Sarah Series Book 3) Page 14