Love Shadows

by Catherine Lanigan

Sarah folded her arms across her chest. “All right, Timmy. I will ask your dad for you. But don’t blame me if he says no.”

  “I won’t, Miss Sarah!” Timmy squealed. “This is going to be great!” He hugged Beau around the neck so tightly Sarah was afraid her dog would choke.

  * * *

  SARAH SAT IN a red-velvet Victorian chair in Mrs. Beabots’s front parlor. The house had two parlors, one of which was always kept behind locked doors and added to a growing mystique that Sarah believed her elderly friend purposefully perpetuated. Thus, this smaller, but still elegantly appointed room was where they usually gathered for tea or coffee.

  Timmy sat on the floor petting Beau, which was, without question, Timmy’s favorite pastime. Annie sat on the red-velvet French settee poring over a stack of songbooks Sarah had loaned to her.

  “I’d give anything to play the piano,” Annie sighed.

  “And I think you’d be a natural, Annie. You have a good ear, but you’re also learning to read music very well. Mrs. Cook commented on it just last Sunday. Playing the piano would help you in the years to come. I could teach you, if you’d like.”

  “You would?” Annie’s blue eyes flew open. “That’s like a dream come true!”

  “I’d be most happy to do that,” Sarah assured her, and continued pouring tea for herself and Mrs. Beabots. “We will have to ask your father first.”

  “I’ll ask him myself,” Annie replied confidently.

  “Sarah,” Mrs. Beabots said, placing a crocheted tea cozy over her English Rose teapot to keep the liquid warm, “would you mind checking the sweet potatoes for me?”

  “Not at all,” Sarah said, rising and going to the kitchen.

  Because Luke wouldn’t have a kitchen installed in the ballroom for several months to come, a microwave was his only means of warming up food for his family. Mrs. Beabots had offered to make the evening meals for everyone. Luke had agreed on the condition that he pay for the groceries and for her hours of labor.

  Mrs. Beabots accepted. Again, with her spit handshake.

  “The potatoes need another twenty minutes or so. I brought a casserole of creamed corn. It’s bubbling nicely,” Sarah said, coming back to the living room. She took a cup of chamomile tea off the tea tray and handed it to Mrs. Beabots.

  Annie instantly looked up from her songbook with a grimace. “Creamed corn? Not regular?”

  Sarah smiled. “I make my own creamed corn. I roast the corn and then cut it off the cobs. The rest is a secret, but I make it with whipping cream and a bit of sugar.”

  “Don’t tell Dad about the sugar,” Timmy warned. “He’ll throw a fit.”

  “It’s only a tablespoon. Just enough to bring out the flavors. I made a double batch,” Sarah said.

  “It’ll be perfect with my pork roast and baked apples,” Mrs. Beabots said, floating a paper-thin slice of orange in her tea.

  Just then, they heard the sound of Luke’s truck pull up and his door slam.

  Timmy looked at Annie and then at Sarah. “Dad’s home,” he said with a quaking voice and a great deal of wide-eyed apprehension. “Maybe we should wait till tomorrow to ask him.”

  “Ask him what?” Annie whispered to her brother, but Timmy was already standing at attention as Luke came in the front door.

  “I saw all of you sitting in here through the window when I pulled up, so I came in this way. I hope that’s all right,” Luke said, looking at Mrs. Beabots.

  “Perfectly fine, dear,” Mrs. Beabots said.

  Luke looked at Sarah, “Hi,” he said with a wider smile than Sarah thought he’d intended. Or had he?

  “How was your day?” Sarah asked.

  “Brutal. This heat is a killer. Reminds me of...never mind.” He looked at Mrs. Beabots. “Mind if I take a shower before dinner? Believe me, everyone here would appreciate it.”

  Mrs. Beabots nodded. “Supper will be ready in about half an hour.”

  Luke started to turn away.

  “Dad!” Timmy said too loudly and too anxiously.

  “Timmy? What is it?”

  “I...er...uh...Sarah wants to give me a job.”

  “A job?” Luke’s eyes tracked from his son to Sarah, who was smiling at Timmy and not looking at Luke.

  “What kind of job?” Luke asked.

  “Walking Beau every afternoon after school. Giving him a treat and brushing him. She’s going to pay me twenty-five cents a day.”

  Luke took a long, purposeful moment before saying, “I assume this would include Saturday and Sunday since the dog has to be walked every day. That would mean you would earn a dollar seventy-five cents a week.”

  “Yeah, I guess so.”

  “And why do you need this money?” Luke asked.

  “To save up for vet’narian school. It’s for my future,” Timmy said with a series of little nods as if assuring himself his negotiations were going well.

  “I see,” Luke replied, scratching his cheek. He turned to Sarah. “When did he come to you with this idea?”

  “Today,” Sarah answered honestly. “I told Timmy he had to ask you first.”

  Beau had scooted over to Timmy’s side, propping himself directly under Timmy’s hand. Timmy was stroking the dog’s head without even knowing it. Sarah watched Luke observing his son. She had given Luke a perfect opportunity to ease Timmy into the responsibilities of owning a dog. Luke wanted Timmy to have a dog someday, but she knew he also wanted Timmy to understand the importance of that decision.

  “Okay, Timmy. I will agree to your taking the job, but you have to promise that in bad weather, you don’t go far from this house. Just to the corner and back.”

  “Okay.” Timmy finally allowed delight to explode all over his face. “So I can start tomorrow?”

  “If it’s okay with Sarah,” Luke said.

  “Fine with me. Miss Milse will be at the house all day. So whenever you want to come over.”

  “We start school next week, but for the rest of this week, I could come over two, maybe even three times to take him out,” Timmy rattled excitedly.

  Sarah laughed. “As many times as you want, Timmy.”

  “Yes!” Timmy plopped down next to Beau and hugged the dog. “Did you hear that? I can see you anytime I want.”

  Luke smiled at Sarah and mouthed the words, Thank you.

  Annie jumped up, holding her songbooks. “Dad, I was thinking of asking you if Sarah could be my piano teacher.”

  “Your what?” The smile on Luke’s face faded as if it were melting wax.

  Sarah saw it and reflexively braced. Something was wrong. The air in the room suddenly filled with tension.

  Mrs. Beabots put her teacup down. Her eyes went to Luke and then to Annie. She glanced at Sarah and gave a quick warning shake to her head.

  Sarah remained silent.

  “Piano teacher,” Annie answered innocently. “She’s really good and maybe she could teach me on Saturdays or something. I really want to learn....”

  “When I can afford a real piano teacher, we’ll get one, and not until then. Understand?” Luke said firmly, enunciating each and every word—though Sarah noticed he did not growl.

  “But Dad,” Annie started to argue. Luke cut her off.

  “Not now, Annie.”

  Sarah quickly realized that Luke thought she had overstepped her bounds with his kids again. She didn’t know if he believed she’d put Timmy up to his request, but suddenly everything had gone awry. It was up to her to set him straight. Because he needed setting straight.

  Sarah rose and faced Luke. “Whatever you want, Luke. That’s fine. Just so you know, it was not my idea to hire Timmy. He came to me. He does want this job. Can he still have it?”

  “Yeah. Sure. I guess.”

  “As for Anni
e, I offered to teach her. I think the discipline of piano lessons would be good for her. I don’t expect to be paid. However, you’re right. I’m not a piano teacher. So the decision is up to you if you want to wait and get someone who is truly qualified.”

  Sarah turned to Mrs. Beabots. “I need to go. I have a new project at work and I’ll be up till midnight working on it.” She leaned over and kissed Mrs. Beabots on the cheek.

  “Good night, dear,” Mrs. Beabots said.

  Sarah walked past Luke, who avoided eye contact. “’Night,” he said.

  Timmy jumped up and raced to Sarah. “Thanks for everything, Miss Sarah,” he said. “Can Beau stay for a while? I could bring him over after supper.”

  “Only if it’s okay with your dad.”

  “Fine,” Luke grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

  Sarah went straight to her study. She opened her blinds and looked out at Mrs. Beabots’s house. The lights were on in the dining room, indicating they were sitting down to supper.

  For half an hour, Sarah moved papers around her desk, checked her emails, texted Maddie and looked up several auctions on line for items she could use in the aromatherapy shop.

  Finally, she dropped her head in her hands. “Ugh. Luke! Can you be any more mule-headed?” she said out loud. What was so terrible about letting Annie have piano lessons? Nothing. This was all about Luke. Luke and his precious pride.

  For the first time in her life, Sarah wished she’d become a psych major in college and not a designer. Maybe then she would know what the heck to do with Luke. Sometimes she just didn’t understand him.

  Or maybe it was that she did understand him and his motivations, but she didn’t want to face the real truth.

  Luke had encircled his heart and his life with chains that he didn’t mind keeping locked and in place. Obviously, he’d grown comfortable in his self-imposed prison. She’d hoped that with the sale of the house he was moving forward with his life, and putting not only his grief behind him, but also his unnatural suspicion that she, in particular, was some kind of psycho child stealer.

  Tonight, Luke had shown her that his dark side was still lurking in him somewhere.

  Sarah didn’t think she’d been wrong to offer to teach Annie the piano. Even now, knowing Luke’s reaction, she’d still make the offer. At this point, Sarah had to face the fact that she and Luke were going to be neighbors—for a time, anyway—and that was all. She was willing to acknowledge that Luke was still climbing out of his grief. However, she believed he’d come to see her as a real friend over the past weeks. Even Mrs. Beabots had commented that when Sarah was around, Luke smiled more and was less tense. He’d told Mrs. Beabots how much he appreciated all Sarah had done to help during his move. He exuded high praise for her design ideas for the ballroom renovations. Sarah noticed that since the end of their counseling sessions, Luke smiled more, laughed more and generally appeared to be in brighter spirits. The fact that the summer festival and their Ferris wheel ride coincided with the end of their sessions with Margot had not entered her calculations until now.

  Maybe Luke’s uplifted outlook had nothing to do with her. Maybe he had progressed to that state of resilience that Margot spoke about, and his transition was simply nature taking its course.

  Maybe she and Luke could only be acquaintances.

  Annie, on the other hand, might just wind up being the real reason they were all brought together by fate in the first place. Sarah had championed Annie and her talent, and had helped Annie stand up for her passion to sing. Through Sarah’s efforts, Luke had been forced to recognize his daughter’s needs.

  Annie had her whole life ahead of her. Luke had his reasons to want to protect his kids and that was fine. But to Sarah, stifling creativity and talent was close to unconscionable.

  Sarah looked over at Mrs. Beabots’s house and saw the third-floor lights go on. It was getting late and the kids were undoubtedly on their way to bed.

  She didn’t realize she was staring. She saw Luke stop at the window and look over at her. She sat up straight, feeling his eyes on her. She got up and went to the window, so that he could see her.

  Luke immediately walked away.

  Sarah picked up the phone and dialed Mrs. Beabots. “Hi,” she said. “I thought I’d come over and get Beau.”

  “Luke said he’d bring the dog over. Timmy and Annie are getting ready for their baths.”

  “Tell him that I know he’s got a lot to do. I’ll come get Beau. I’ll meet you on the front porch.” Sarah hung up. Before she left the room, she slowly closed the blinds.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  GOLDEN SUNBEAMS SKIMMED the placid waters of Indian Lake like tiny sprites as Annie and Timmy rode the bus to their new school. Their first terror, of waiting for the bus, was behind them. The new bus route allowed for the school bus to pick up four kids at the corner just down from Mrs. Beabots’s house. On the first day, Luke had walked them to the bus stop and made certain they understood the routine.

  The other two kids were younger than Annie. She was happy not to have to face older kids at the bus stop.

  Annie was overwhelmed by the huge school. A large expanse of land held walking trails, a volleyball court and a regulation soccer field with bleachers for the parents to watch the competitions. The school building itself was filled with sunshine and natural light that streamed in through clear glass ceilings and skylights that ran along the hallways. The classrooms were cheery and the kids all sat at tables rather than individual desks like she had at St. Mark’s. There was an enormous television screen in the front of her class and over a dozen computers at stations on the right side of the room. The teacher had decorated the walls with posters, artwork and stickers for the school’s September Reading Month projects.

  Mrs. Geary was a tall woman with a caring, soft, but firm voice. She seemed to smooth her blond, chin-length hair a lot.

  Annie was assigned her place at a table in between two boys who kept looking at her out of the corner of their eyes instead of just looking right in her face. Annie decided she didn’t like either of them. She hugged her reading book and kept her eyes on the teacher, afraid to make a move right or left.

  At lunch, Annie found Timmy and helped him go through the lunch line and pay for his food.

  They sat at an empty table near the doors. “I don’t like it here,” Timmy said, opening his carton of milk and inserting a straw. “The teacher put me next to a creepy girl. She keeps pinching my arm.”

  “Tell the teacher. She’ll make her stop.”

  Timmy looked at his sister with a horrified expression. “And become a tattletale on the first day of school?”

  Annie agreed. “You’re right. Wrong move. Pinch her back.”

  He shook his head. “What if she goes crying to the teacher? I’m toast.”

  “Right.” Annie thought for a long moment as she munched on a turkey sandwich. “Let’s ask Sarah what to do.”

  Timmy brightened. “Right after school, okay? We can call her at work from Mrs. Beabots’s phone.”

  “Okay.”

  * * *

  FOR OVER TWO weeks, every day at three-thirty, Sarah received a phone call from either Annie or Timmy about another crisis they faced at their new school. Sarah assured them that all these problems would be ironed out as time went on, and many of them were.

  However, by the sixteenth phone call in as many afternoons, Sarah began to see a pattern forming. She immediately went to Charmaine.

  Sarah tapped on Charmaine’s office door and went in. Charmaine looked up from her computer. “Oh, Sarah. I was just going to call you in. Did you get those Frank Lloyd Wright stained-glass panels we looked at?”

  “I lost the bid, as you can imagine. But I found three replicas, same colors, same size, made by a guy up in Traverse City. They’re stunni
ng. And a fraction of the cost. They’re being shipped tomorrow.”

  “Good. Also, what’s going on with the church bid?”

  Sarah beamed. “Jerry Mason won the bid. I just got the call from Father Michael. I thought I’d give Jerry a call when we finish.”

  “Excellent.” Charmaine smiled as she considered Sarah. “I know this look.” She wagged her finger. “Something’s up.”

  “I’d like to know if I could start leaving the office at three every day. I’ll still work at home. You know I will.”

  “I’m not ever worried about you getting the job done. Quite the contrary. I worry that you often work too much. So why do you need to leave early?”

  “Annie and Timmy are having a hard time adjusting to their new school. They call me every day when they get home with some problem that they have.”

  “Shouldn’t they be calling their father?” Charmaine asked with a raised eyebrow.

  “They should. Many times he’s on a job and can’t talk. I know they talk to him when he comes home. But I get the feeling they don’t want to tell him some of these things.”

  “Such as?”

  “They’re scared, Charmaine. Intimidated. Even terrified of bullies.”

  “That’s a real problem—certainly more so than in my childhood. Even cyber-bullies. It makes me cringe.”

  “I told Luke about it, and though he’s talked to the kids and told them to report any incidents to their teachers, it’s not enough.”

  “And what is?” Charmaine asked.

  “I was thinking if I was home so that they could stay with me instead of with Mrs. Beabots, where they mostly just stay to themselves, it would be better for them. We could talk things out and they’d have...”

  “...a mother?” Charmaine offered with pointed accusation in her eyes.

  “A friend, Charmaine.”

  “Sarah, I think you’re treading on dangerous ground. I know you love these kids. I know you want what is best for them, but if you do this, you run the risk of really making Luke mad. I think you’re setting yourself up for even more heartbreak.”

  Sarah inhaled deeply. “I’ve thought of that, but these kids are so darling, so precious, I’m willing to face Luke’s wrath. They aren’t possessions. They’re human beings, and right now, they need me.”