When Pigs and Parrots Fly

by Gail Sattler

  “You say that every time we eat Bert’s sandwiches.”

  “And I mean it, every time.” He raised his arm as if to wipe a dribble of Bert’s famous sauce from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, then stopped.

  She watched the mental gears whirring in his head as Josh realized he had more than just a small drop of sauce on his face, and that he risked getting it on his clothing. He couldn’t seem to figure out how to recover the napkin from his lap and hold the sandwich with one hand without dripping the rest of the sauce onto his pants.

  Sarah sighed. “Let me.”

  She leaned forward and gently, like wiping the corner of a baby’s mouth, took her own unused napkin and gently dabbed at the corner of his mouth.

  His entire body stiffened, and his eyes widened at the intimate contact.

  Sarah felt her heart pounding like a bass drum, and she hoped that he couldn’t feel it through her fingertips. Pressed up so close beside him, if their relationship was the way she wanted it to be, she could have leaned forward just a little more and kissed him.

  And she did want to kiss him.

  Instead, she straightened, putting a little distance between them. “There,” she whispered, hoping her voice didn’t sound as croaky as it felt. “All better.”

  In a flash, his arm rose from around the back of the couch. Without touching her, he straightened and planted both arms at his side. With lightning speed, he rammed his sandwich back into the bag without rewrapping it and stood.

  “You know, I really don’t have time to stop for lunch today. I shouldn’t have left Amanda at the store all by herself. I’d better go.”

  Before Sarah could open her mouth to protest, Josh left the room. Rufus gave one short whine and ran after his master.

  The door between her clinic and the reception area closed with a snick. From the other side of the closed door, her receptionist called out a quick good-bye to Josh just as the bell on the main door jingled.

  Sarah didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. The Roadrunner couldn’t have made a hastier retreat.

  Defeat sank like a battleship in her chest. This wasn’t the way she’d thought it would go, but obviously Josh wasn’t as interested in her as she was in him.

  But . . . at least she knew.

  It wasn’t what she wanted, but she had her answer, and life would go on.

  “Sorry I took so long,” Josh muttered to Amanda as he dashed through the store and into his private office, closing the door behind him.

  He dropped the partially eaten sandwich on the desk, picked up the phone, and started dialing.

  Tucker answered in four rings.

  “Hey, buddy,” Josh drawled, trying to sound carefree. “What’s up?” He heard the shuffle of clothing over the phone line, telling him that Tucker was checking his watch.

  “Not much. What’s up with you? Why are you calling me from work? Is the game cancelled?”

  Josh gulped. “No, everything’s right on schedule. I just wanted to let you know that I’m meeting up with Rob and Cassie on Friday night.”

  A pause hung over the line. “And?” Tucker asked.

  Josh gulped again. “And I’m taking Sarah with me. As my date.” He squeezed his eyes shut as he realized he’d just emphasized the word date. Like he’d just thrown down the gauntlet.

  Another silence hung. “This is my sister we’re talking about, right?”

  “Uh . . . yeah.”

  “My little sister.”

  A slow-motion replay ran through Josh’s head of Tucker that day in church when he’d mentioned taking Sarah away from the crowd for some one-on-one time. That image had played through his head more times than he could count, none of them fondly. Josh tried to push the picture out of his head and forced a smile, hoping it came out in his voice, even though he doubted it would.

  “You only have one sister. And she’s not that little.” As the words left his mouth, he gave himself a mental slap. Tucker didn’t need the reminder that not only was Sarah not just his younger sister, she was his only sister.

  As the silence continued, knowing Tucker as he did, Josh knew that pictures of a less mature version of Sarah were rushing through his friend’s head—images of a young and innocent Sarah, madly in love with him, doing a number of harebrained stunts to get his attention. Between the two guys, they’d laughed as immature adolescents did, not taking her feelings seriously. Back then, he’d said a lot of things that weren’t necessarily complimentary about her puppy-love crush. Little could he have guessed how his insensitive words would come back to haunt him.

  “It doesn’t matter how big Sarah is, she’ll always be my little sister.” Tucker’s voice lowered slightly in pitch. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  Unfortunately, Josh did. He cleared his throat, and his grip on the phone tightened. “She’s not so little. She’s a big girl now, Tucker. And I’m a big boy. Just like you’re not the same twerp you were back then, neither am I.” As soon as the words came out of his mouth, Josh knew he hadn’t worded that as gently as he could have.

  He’d just called the best cop in the town of Bloomfield, his best friend, a twerp.

  Over his little sister.

  Josh cleared his throat. “What I’m trying to say is that I’m not the same guy I was back when she followed us around. You know me. I’m a nice guy. At least, most women think so.” Josh stopped and squeezed his eyes shut. “Not that I go out with a lot of women.” He wondered if he could stick his foot any deeper into his mouth.

  Tucker had never made him nervous before. Josh didn’t understand why it was happening now. He probably should have asked if Tucker trusted him, but now Josh wasn’t so sure of the answer.

  “What I’m trying to say is that I’d like to see what happens.”

  Tucker’s voice dropped even lower. With the drop, Josh pictured his friend’s nostrils flaring like an angry bull. “And what I’m saying is that she’s my little sister. And I remember every word you’ve ever said about her.”

  A chill ran up Josh’s spine, and he forced himself not to shiver. Right now, if Tucker could read Josh’s thoughts about his little sister, it would be much worse than the thoughts he’d had about her as a little kid, chasing them around town.

  He cleared his throat. “I’ve been seeing . . .” His voice caught before he said, “your little sister.” The way the conversation was going, he didn’t want more big brother/little sister reminders. “. . . Sarah, weekly, for a long time.”

  He didn’t think it was a good idea to tell Tucker they’d already gone out on a couple of double dates, even though they hadn’t gone out with each other, at least not technically. Yet, every time Hayden had tried to start a private conversation with Sarah, he’d butted in and tried to monopolize her attention, so she might as well have been his date. Both times, at the end of the evening, he’d also accompanied Hayden to Sarah’s door, just to be sure that Hayden didn’t kiss her goodnight.

  Josh squeezed his eyes shut. Visions of nearly kissing Sarah in the kitchen, and then again in the staff room at her clinic, roared through his brain. He squeezed his eyes shut and told himself to breathe. Yes, he’d nearly thrown a sandwich that dreams were made of to the dog and wrapped himself around Sarah with the burning need to kiss her only minutes ago.

  Josh forced the image out of his head, cleared his throat, and brought his brain back to the current conversation with Sarah’s very big brother—complete with his uniform, and a very big gun. “We do our orders for the wholesaler together every Tuesday. My store is next door to her clinic. Remember?”

  “Yeah. I remember a lot. Am I being clear?”

  His friend’s meaning couldn’t have been more clear if it had been written in his own blood. Which it might just as well have been.

  “Yes. I guess I�
�ll see you at the game.”

  Chapter 7

  Sarah tucked the last clip into her hair and turned to retrieve her purse.

  As she turned, her eye caught the plush beaver perched between the pillows on her bed—the beaver Josh had given her after winning a ribbon for his science fair project back in elementary school.

  She couldn’t believe she still had it, after all these years. All her growing-up years, it had held the position of honor in the middle of her bed. She’d taken it to college, where she had also put it in the middle of her bed in her dorm room, with much teasing from her roommate. When she moved back to Bloomfield and bought her townhouse, the beaver still held its prominent position.

  Sarah picked it up and sighed. Maybe it was time to put it away.

  She turned and looked at herself in the mirror. Physically, she was ready for her date with Josh, . . . emotionally, she’d already lost all her steam.

  At the first sign of her trying to be romantic, Josh turned tail and ran. Even more discouraging, she usually saw him a few times a day as they both came and went from their businesses. Even if they didn’t speak, they always waved from a distance.

  Since they’d parted ways on Wednesday, it seemed like Josh had almost been avoiding her. The one time she did see him, he’d kept his head down while concentrating on something—she didn’t know what—and he hadn’t seen her, even though she’d waved to get his attention.

  His efforts to avoid her couldn’t have been any more obvious, and that never happened, not even when they were kids and she’d been so obvious about her affections for him. That he was avoiding her now made it so much more painful.

  If she hadn’t given her word that she’d accompany him tonight, she would have found a way to back out. But she’d given her word, and God said that a person’s word was their bond, so she couldn’t back out.

  She put the beaver back down on the bed, probably for the last time, made one more adjustment to one of her clips and was ready to touch up her lipstick when the doorbell rang.

  As she opened the door, her breath caught at the sight of Josh in a suit. The muted tones of the jacket complemented his eyes, which tended to change between green and gray, depending on his mood or what he wore. Today, they were gray, an almost perfect match with his light gray suit jacket. Beneath that, he wore a white shirt, which she knew he chose because everything matched white, and a black tie, because the buttons on his jacket were black, as were his pants and shoes. A little stark, but none the less attractive.

  Even though she knew all his clothing patterns, he was still tall, trim, and handsome . . . and not interested in her for anything other than a buddy.

  She sighed. “I just have to lock up and we can go,” she said, never before trying so hard to sound cheerful when she was anything but.

  As she gazed up at his face, Josh’s ears turned red and he stiffened while he looked up and down the lines of her dress, all the way down to her shoes—shoes that she’d paid a fortune for, and now didn’t know why she’d bothered. “You look nice. Really nice.” He checked his watch. “Let’s go. I’m a bit later than I wanted to be.”

  Like a gentleman, he escorted her to the passenger side of his car, opened the door, and waited for her to be seated and her legs tucked inside comfortably before he closed the door and walked around to the driver’s door.

  In a way, it was flattering, but a total waste of energy, because she knew how he felt.

  If she hadn’t been unsure about how crowded the parking lot at the restaurant would be on a Friday night, she would have taken her own car. Then she could have left him with his friends and gone home when he no longer needed her.

  They arrived at the restaurant early, but Josh’s friends were even earlier.

  She remembered Rob; they’d met briefly when Josh brought him to Bloomfield on one of their breaks from college. Even though she’d never met Cassie before, the woman seemed amiable, friendly, and open.

  This gave Sarah some hope for the evening until Cassie grabbed Rob’s hand, and when he looked at her, she blew him a kiss.

  Beside her, Josh flinched.

  Cassie giggled, speaking to them without breaking eye contact with her husband. “When we got married, we couldn’t take any time off from our jobs, so we’ve decided to take a few extra days and use this little break as our honeymoon.” She giggled again. “Since we’re mixing business with pleasure, we get to write off part of this trip on income tax. Isn’t that such a good idea?” Cassie’s smile widened, as did Rob’s, and in their little universe the rest of the world ceased to exist as Rob leaned toward Cassie for a short kiss.

  Sarah’s stomach flopped at the thought of watching two quasi-newlyweds while the only real love of her life showed more interest in the nutrient information in a bag of dog food than the dress she’d spent more time shopping for than wearing.

  Fortunately, the server came to take their orders, forcing Rob and Cassie to separate.

  When the waiter left, Rob and Cassie’s hands were still clasped together, but at least they finally looked across the table instead of at each other.

  Rob grinned. “Do you want to talk business now or later?”

  Josh shrugged his shoulders. “Now is as good a time as any. In fact, it’s probably best that we do this before any food comes to the table so we have more room.”

  Rob reached into a briefcase and extracted a handful of brochures and papers, and a single-serving sample of dry dog food. “I’d like to give you a case of these, but we weren’t going to bring any more into a restaurant. We’re staying at the Olde Town Inn. Do you know where that is?”

  Sarah and Josh nodded at the same time. “Of course,” they answered in unison.

  Sarah felt her cheeks turn warm, and Josh laughed.

  Josh turned to his friend. “Let’s get the business over with. Show me what you’ve got.”

  While Rob began his introduction blurb, his left hand and Cassie’s right disappeared under the table.

  Sarah nearly sighed out loud at the romantic notion of holding hands under the table. As she turned to Josh, the brochure and list of ingredients of the dog food held his full attention, making her wonder if he’d noticed what his friends were doing.

  Sarah gave her head a mental shake and followed along in the brochure while Rob explained the nutritional benefits and quality control in the manufacturing of the product. Before she had a chance to ask any questions, the server appeared with their meals. The four of them quickly scooped up all the papers, Josh tucked the sample bag of dog food into his pocket, and the server set their meals in front of them.

  All four of them bowed their heads, and for a few seconds, Rob and Cassie separated their hands from each other to fold their hands on the edge of the table.

  Josh gave a short prayer of thanks for their food and time together, and they began to eat.

  After they’d finished the main courses and were waiting for their desserts, Sarah could see how they began losing Rob and Cassie’s attention in increments. By the time their desserts arrived, Rob and Cassie’s gazes were locked on each other, and they didn’t notice that the conversation had lulled.

  Josh turned to Sarah, his cheeks darkening in color the longer Rob and Cassie stared into each other’s eyes. His voice dropped to barely above a whisper. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea they were going to be like this. I’m glad I’m with you instead of a real date. That would have been really embarrassing.”

  The wonderful supper she’d just eaten suddenly turned to a lump in her stomach. Josh’s words couldn’t have been more effective if they’d come from inside a bucket of icy water hitting her full force in the face.

  Regardless of what she’d known about the evening, even though he’d told her quite plainly his plans for the night, she’d woven a fantasy of how the night would turn out—that
like Prince Charming, Josh would sweep her off her feet and declare his love, and they’d ride off happily into the sunset.

  The sun had apparently set behind a cloud hours ago, and no one had noticed. And the white horse had taken off without her.

  Her eyes began to burn, and she felt her throat tighten. She refused to cry in front of Josh. He’d told her from the start that this wouldn’t be a real date; he’d only needed an escort. She’d offered to be that escort, knowing the situation. Only her delusions made her imagine there could be more.

  She pushed her half-eaten dessert away and slid her chair slightly back from the table. “I have to go to the ladies’ room. Excuse me.”

  Josh’s eyes narrowed. “What’s wrong?”

  Sarah reached down to grab her purse. “Nothing.”

  Just as she found the strap, Josh’s fingers closed around her wrist. “Your eyes look funny. Can you breathe okay? Do you feel hot? Are you all right?”

  She shook her head. “It’s okay. I’m fine.”

  “Look into my eyes. Can you see everything clearly? Can you make out the colors?”

  Only because of his insistence, she looked into his eyes. “Your eyes are . . .” Beautiful. Warm. Eyes that she saw in her dreams. Eyes that would never look at her the way she wanted them to. “. . . gray today.”

  “We didn’t ask about any ingredients tonight. Close your mouth and breathe through your nose.”

  “No. Josh. I—”

  His grip around her wrist tightened, and his voice lowered. “I said, close your mouth and breathe through your nose.”

  She did, but of course her nose was already half clogged.

  His eyes narrowed as he glared into hers. “Your eyes aren’t right.” Before she could respond, he grabbed her purse and held her wrist, and he stood and dragged Sarah to her feet. “There must have been peanut oil in that dessert. Where’s your EpiPen?”

  “No. I—”