“Mrs. Beabots?” Annie asked. “My dad works for you.”
“Yes, he does. And he’s doing a fine job, as well. You can tell him I said that. Do you want to be a carpenter, too?” Mrs. Beabots asked Timmy.
He shook his head. “I’m too young to think about my career.”
Sarah burst into laughter. “I totally agree, Timmy.”
“How is it you know these children, Sarah?” Mrs. Beabots asked, surprise ratcheting up her eyebrows.
Annie chimed in. “Oh, she helps Mrs. Cook at our Vacation Bible School sometimes.”
“Yeah,” Timmy said. “At St. Mark’s.”
“I see,” Mrs. Beabots replied with a sly smile. “Sarah, why don’t you help the children with their goodies? Surely they can’t carry all that themselves. And buy them some lemonade. The money goes to charity, you know,” she said, looking from Annie to Timmy.
“I didn’t know that.” Annie stared at the dollar in her hand as if it now had new meaning.
“We must all do everything we can to support the arts in our town,” Mrs. Beabots said.
“Amen to that,” Sarah said. “I’ll buy you some saltwater taffy.”
“Our dad won’t let us have candy,” Timmy said firmly.
“We’re restricted at night, but we can have it for special treats other times,” Annie argued, then looked up at Sarah with a broad smile. “That would be very kind of you, Sarah.” Sarah bit her bottom lip to keep from laughing again as Annie tugged on her hand.
Next to the popcorn cart were three card tables covered in plastic cloths and dozens of desserts—cookies, slices of pie, brownies, lemon bars, homemade donuts and baklava. Sarah stood in line with Annie and Timmy to make their purchases and she listened to the conversations taking place around her.
“Isn’t this fun, Sarah?” Timmy asked, taking her other hand.
“It’s one of my favorite things to do in the summer,” Sarah agreed. “My parents brought me to the park every week when I was a kid.”
“No way!” Annie exclaimed. “This is our first time.”
Sarah instantly felt both sadness and glee for the children. Though they had missed out on the wonderful music and fun art displays all these years, at least they were here now.
“It reminds me of a carnival,” Timmy said.
“Yeah, it does. It just needs a merry-go-round and a Ferris wheel,” Annie said.
“Do you kids like carnivals?”
“Sure do!” Timmy said. “Someday, when I’m really rich, I’m going to go to Disney World and I’m going to ride the roller coaster and all those cool rides till after my bedtime.”
“I’d go to Cinderella’s castle,” Annie said, and started humming “When you Wish Upon a Star.”
Sarah looked down at Annie and remembered how beautifully she sang in the children’s choir. She watched as Annie closed her eyes and sang the song softly to herself as if she were dreaming about wishes and stars and happy things.
Sarah’s resolve to feature Annie as her soloist in the Children’s Pageant doubled. She already knew Annie could belt out “America the Beautiful,” but Annie also had the ability to pluck Sarah’s heartstrings with this touching, hopeful song.
Finally, it was their turn to be served. Sarah had been so immersed in thought she hadn’t paid any attention to the line or the fact that Louise Railton herself was standing behind the card table to take their order.
“Louise!” Sarah said delightedly. “You’re just the person I want to talk to. Well, one of about a hundred,” Sarah chuckled.
“Wonderful. Anytime. Now, what will it be?” Louise asked the children.
Sarah interrupted. “I’m buying. Give them one of everything.”
“Wow!” Timmy said. “I want the brownie!”
Sarah looked at Annie. “Would you like a brownie? Or a cookie?”
Annie frowned and shook her head. “That’s too much. We shouldn’t. Not till we ask Dad first,” she warned.
Sarah smiled. “Of course, Annie. We’ll ask his permission.”
Louise packed the cookies and brownies in a brown paper bag.
“I’ll help you carry this stuff back and we’ll ask your dad together,” Sarah said.
Louise loaded the children and Sarah down with three popcorns, three lemonades, a dozen cookies and brownies. Sarah bought a bag of saltwater taffy for later.
“We’re going over to see their father,” Sarah said to her friends as they walked past.
“Oh, is that what you’re doing?” Maddie asked. She’d been watching the entire encounter closely.
Sarah and the kids continued on around the path as the musicians readied themselves for the first number. The conductor had just approached the center microphone and was welcoming everyone to the summer concert season.
Sarah followed the children to Luke, who was standing up with his hands shoved in his jeans pockets. “What’s all this?” he asked, somber-faced.
Sarah beamed a smile at him, hoping to crash through the granite wall of resistance she had come to expect. “I was helping the kids. They said we had to get your permission for them to have sugar tonight.”
“I’d rather they didn’t.”
“I understand. I thought maybe you all would enjoy the cookies tomorrow. Louise tells me that most of them freeze well. And here, I got you some of her famous saltwater taffy. It’s not summer without Louise’s taffy.”
Luke took the bag of taffy. “Thanks.”
He looked at the cups of lemonade, the cookies and popcorn. “Looks like more than a dollar’s worth to me.”
“Sarah... I mean, Miss Jensen, treated us,” Annie gushed.
“I see.” Luke shot an incriminating look at Sarah.
“I hope it was okay,” Sarah blurted, already feeling Luke’s anger growing. Suddenly, she felt the censure the children must feel whenever Luke was like this. She didn’t like it one bit, and as far as she was concerned it was unnecessary, if not plain rude.
“Nothing I can do about it now,” Luke replied, clamping his mouth shut.
Sarah refused to let him guilt her into feeling bad. She continued smiling at him, determined to win this contest of wills.
Annie and Timmy stood spellbound, watching the exchange.
“I understand this is your first concert,” Sarah said in a deliberately friendly tone. “I hope you like it. I come every week.”
“I just heard about the concert.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Mrs. Beabots told me.” Luke glanced over to where Mrs. Beabots sat in her canvas chair, staring at the two of them. “So tell me, Sarah. Do you always pick up children at the park and buy them junk food?”
“It’s not junk!” Annie retorted. “It’s homemade. Fresh ingredients and all that.”
Luke couldn’t resist his daughter’s naiveté. “I suppose it is,” he said. “I guess I’m asking how it is that you picked up my kids.”
“I didn’t pick them up. I’ve come to know them pretty well, especially now that they’re in the choir.”
“I heard about that. But what do you have to do with that?” Luke asked.
“She plays the piano for us, Dad,” Timmy said. “She’s really good.”
Luke’s blue eyes were scathing as he looked back at Sarah. “Really?”
“Yes,” Sarah answered. Not noticing the storm in his eyes, she rushed on. “I’m sure you know Annie has a very mature voice, and I don’t think I’d be going too far out on a limb to say she’s quite talented. I’ve never heard a child’s voice quite like Annie’s. I was hoping to feature her as a soloist in the choir.”
“Soloist?” Luke barked. “She’s only eight years old.”
“I understand that, Luke, but our oldest child is only ten. The old
er kids aren’t very interested in choir practice. They’d rather play soccer and basketball.”
Luke shoved his hands deeper into his pockets. “You can stop with the sales pitch right now, Sarah.”
“Sales pitch?”
Luke pursed his lips and whipped his head toward his children. “Kids, I need to talk to Miss Jensen alone. You stay right here. We’ll be back.”
“Sure, Dad,” Annie and Timmy replied in unison, their wide eyes glued on their father.
Luke walked Sarah up the hill to a group of soaring Maples.
“Why don’t you tell me what you’re up to?” he snapped.
Sarah didn’t understand his meaning but she interpreted his tone succinctly. “Why don’t you make yourself clear, Luke?”
“Fine.” He leaned his face closer to hers, his eyes glaring at her. “I don’t like strangers buying things for my kids. I am perfectly capable of buying treats for them myself.”
“Stranger? We’re in group therapy together, and quite frankly, Mr. Bosworth, we’re more intimate with sharing our hearts than most people in committed relationships, if you ask me. I’m not trying to buy your kids, and I’m not trying to insult you. I like your kids. They’re great people. Which is more than I can say for their father. I came over here because I believe that your daughter is an amazing talent. I think she could go national. Global, if given half a chance. And I would like to feature her as a soloist in a Children’s Pageant I’m putting on as a fund-raiser for St. Mark’s Church, which desperately needs renovation. But since you haven’t been in the church for years, you wouldn’t know about that, either, would you?”
Luke’s frustration rose like magma in a volcano. He hated that she was making sense, and she’d nailed him on his abstinence from church. The idea that he was refusing to let his daughter’s talent be a charitable contribution made him seem as evil as Attila the Hun.
Luke redoubled his attack.
“Annie and Timmy tell me that you’re not a music teacher or an art teacher at all. You’re just a volunteer. I want to know what credentials you have to be telling my daughter she is exceptional in any way. All you’re going to do is build up her hopes for something that will only crush her and break her heart in the end, anyway.”
Sarah felt as if she was in the middle of round three of a boxing match, and for once she scripted herself as the scrappy underdog. She wasn’t about to let Luke land another punch.
“Okay, so I don’t have a B.A. in music, but I’m not deaf, Luke. Annie has something. I would like to help nurture her and encourage her in any way I can. The worst thing a parent can do is stifle a child’s creativity and talent. And that’s what I see you’re doing.”
Sarah could tell Luke was barely reining in his anger, and when he spoke it was through clenched teeth. “I’m not deaf, either. I listened to you when you spilled your guts at counseling. I believe you’re lonely and that this void you talk about in your life is killing you. I think you intend to use my kids to fill that void. You don’t have any kids of your own, so you think mine will do just fine. Well, it’s not happening. Got that? You can take your solos and pageants and shove them. Get somebody else’s kids. You can’t use mine.”
Sarah felt as if she’d been slapped across the face. One part of her psyche wanted to analyze his accusations, but the other part wanted to sock him in the jaw. “Since we’re being so truthful, then why don’t you take a long, hard look in the mirror, Mr. Bosworth. Your kids aren’t just growing up, they’re growing away from you. They’re seeking me out. They’re seeking Mary Catherine out, and anybody else who will pay attention to them because they can’t turn to their dad. He’s spaced out in some dreamland with his memories instead of taking care of them. Annie is sad and unhappy. She looks like she’s ready to burst into tears whenever I see her. She keeps her feelings locked inside, and yet she tells me she does everything she can for you, but you never notice. Timmy is totally lost. He has all kinds of dreams and I bet you don’t know a single one of them. And a lemonade and a cookie once in a while is not going to kill them!”
Sarah watched Luke’s hands as they began to shake so much he clenched them into fists. Determination furrowed a deep rut across his forehead, and his eyes blazed. She’d hit her mark, all right. She could tell he wasn’t even listening to her anymore. She doubted he would ever heed her words.
He started to speak and spittle sprayed from his lips. “I have rules in my house and they will abide by them. My kids don’t eat sugar at night and they don’t need you butting into their lives. We’re just fine.”
Sarah had heard all she wanted to hear. Luke would continue blasting at her all night long and would never hear her side of the argument, anyway.
“You are such a...dunderhead! I’m done here,” she shouted at him as Luke took a breath before his next tirade.
Luke took a step back. “Dunderhead?”
Sarah spun around and tromped down the hill toward her friends. She realized Annie and Timmy were staring at them, cramming popcorn in their mouths faster than they could chew, as if they were watching a scary movie.
“Bye, kids,” Sarah said as she marched past them. She put her hand to her cheek and realized it was on fire. She had never been this angry at another human being in her life, and she didn’t like it. It burned like battery acid in her stomach. She didn’t know how Luke dealt with the seemingly perpetual anger he harbored. Was it like this for him all the time? Was this what he was talking about when he said that his anger was eating at him? That’s what it felt like to her.
Sarah hadn’t had time to assess the meaning of the encounter with Luke, but suddenly she realized she was empathizing with him. Now she knew his kind of anger. She understood precisely what he was experiencing.
Sarah felt her anger at Luke was justified, however. He’d accused her of things that weren’t true, and he’d been insulting to boot. She wondered if she would feel better if she’d actually hauled off and socked him. He had it coming. The worst part was that he was utterly blind to his children’s needs. It was a big mistake to turn down her request to let Annie be soloist. Annie deserved a chance to try her wings.
Sarah also realized Luke was mad at the world, fate, God and the universe. He had no one he could punch out. No one to blast with curses and no one who would fight him back.
As Sarah approached her friends and watched their anticipation-filled faces transform to concern and worry, she realized she was taking on much too much of Luke’s burden. She’d always had a tendency to reach out to others and try to help when they were in need. Her mother had taught her that. Aunt Emily always did that. She’d never thought that being caring and giving was inappropriate behavior, but in the case of Luke and his children, it clearly was.
Sarah could only surmise that the best cure for the pain in her belly and the apprehension she felt whenever Luke came to mind was to stay as far away from him as possible.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
SARAH CAUGHT GLIMPSES of the full moon outside her study window. A cloudless, inky-black sky was studded with twinkling stars. Sarah heard her mother’s voice, just as it had been when she was a child.
See those stars? Each one is winking at you, hoping you will make a wish on it.
Sarah couldn’t stop thinking about little Annie singing about wishes and stars. What was it like for that girl to want something so desperately and not be able to grasp even a wisp of it, all because her father was... Did I actually call him a dunderhead?
Sarah plopped her chin in her hand and looked out the window. Well, he was being one.
But there were other things Luke said that pinched at the edges of her ego. Was it possible that Luke was right about her? Was she so lonely and so involved in other people’s lives that she didn’t have the courage to jump-start her own? Was she living vicariously through Luke’s kids?
Were th
ey only just another project for her, like the summer festival and the church?
Glancing down at the stack of whimsical booth drawings and the festival layout, she dug deeper into her own motivations. The past two years had been an emotional tempest for Sarah. Breaking up with James was difficult, but not insurmountable. In fact, she’d often admitted to her friends and her mother that she hadn’t been all that distraught when she left James. Too often she’d felt she was simply a prop for him—an essential ingredient in his rise to the top of his field. The large financial institutions and corporations he pursued liked their managers and directors to be “settled” and “stable.” James had “needed” her, he’d told her. Now Sarah realized just what he’d meant by those words.
Truthfully, Sarah had to admit she missed her architecture work in Indianapolis more than she actually missed James. Perhaps it was because they’d grown apart for so many years that when the final break came, there was no “them” to break. James had been swallowed up by the fast-paced financial world of Chicago. Sarah had started work for Charmaine and was struggling with the fact that her mother’s cancer was terminal. Sarah had worried, from week to week, about just how much time they had left.
All those months with her mother had been like sitting on a time bomb with the clock ticking and the countdown continuously being reset. Ann Marie made it through one more weekend. Then one more week. She had a rally. She went into atrial fibrillation and nearly died of cardiac arrest due to a reaction to a new medication. Then she rallied. She went into ventricular fibrillation and they were back in ICU.
Sarah hadn’t had time to mourn her breakup with James. Had she stowed her affection for James in some back alley in her heart, only to have it surface now? Was that what Luke represented to her? A substitute for James? Was she really so terrified of a future without her own family that she would want a man who was still so clearly in love with his dead wife and didn’t want a thing to do with her or almost anyone else?
Am I really that desperate?
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