Dancing with the Sun

by Kay Bratt

  Sadie remembered. Every day. Maybe even every hour of every day. At times, every minute.

  She’d thought Tom did, too, but had he finally found a way to forget? Or found someone to help him forget? The thought of him with another woman made her heart beat faster and her head swirl with dizziness.

  They had sworn to each other so many times in those first few years that they would never stray—would never want to hurt one another that way. Sadie had kept her word, despite having many opportunities throughout her career and even through the darkest days of her life, when it would’ve been so easy to turn to another who didn’t know her story and wouldn’t pity her, would possibly see her as the strong woman she had once been before the tragedy.

  Maybe Tom wasn’t the noble man she thought he was. That everyone believed him to be.

  Carefully, she went to the couch and sat down.

  Those slippers had to be somewhere.

  She wasn’t surprised.

  But it had taken longer than she’d thought it would.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Sadie awoke feeling as though her body were on fire. Every muscle burned, and her back ached like she’d spent the night wrestling with the devil. She lay in bed, blinking up at the ceiling, still reeling from the emotions that had raged through her all night, keeping her up until the wee hours of the morning.

  She wished she could forget the epiphany she’d had about Tom. She even wished she could hold on to her anger. But all that came now was a lingering cloud of deep sadness and regret. She could ask herself—and had many times in the past eight hours—how this could’ve happened, but she knew that she was a fool for not guessing their situation would eventually lead to this. Once again, everything was complicated.

  The question was, What now?

  It would be easier if she kept her mouth shut and just continued on, getting through each day as she had before, one step at a time. Confronting the truth was too exhausting, and Sadie functioned best when she stuck to a routine. Her life was better in her safe place, where she’d successfully driven everyone out. There she didn’t have to have any real conversations or expose what was really going on inside her head. She’d fine-tuned the technique. She was good at it because she’d been doing it for years.

  But it was time to make a change. She needed to transform her life into something more bearable.

  Logically she knew this, but it didn’t stop her heart from arguing against what her head knew had to happen. But before she did anything, she had to see Lauren. Sadie wanted to be the one to tell her so that she could present it in a way that would hurt her daughter the least. If Tom were home, she would’ve talked to him first, but now that she’d found the courage to take the initial steps, she wanted to get the ball rolling.

  It wasn’t all going to fall into place by itself, so she crawled out of bed and went to the kitchen to call her boss. She was thankful it went to voicemail, and she left a message that she was sick and would be back on Monday or Tuesday at the latest. With that done, she fired up her laptop and booked a same-day ticket out to California, with a return for Sunday night. It would be an exhausting turnaround, but it needed to be done.

  By some miracle, she’d found availability on one of their earliest flights. It would be tight, but if she could make it, then that would put her in California by one o’clock. She called the neighbor boy and asked him to look after the dog, reminding him that Chance would need his feet wiped if it rained.

  She thought about calling Tom. Should she tell him they needed to have a talk? After some internal back-and-forth, she decided to just wait until she returned. He was very intuitive and would pick up on if she was harboring any negative thoughts, and she wasn’t ready for an inquisition or a debate just yet.

  After a quick shower, she dressed for comfort and, with only minutes to pack, flung some clothes and makeup into a bag and burst out the door, not even bothering to leave a note for Tom and feeling nothing but relief at leaving the empty house behind.

  As she drove, she called and left a voicemail for Lauren that she was coming and would arrive in a few hours. She kept her voice light and stress-free as she rattled off her flight number and arrival time. At the airport, she saw the flight was delayed by half an hour, and she sat near the gate, flipping through the pages of a discarded magazine, barely comprehending the articles and recipes, the ideas for building a happy homelife written by contributors who looked too perfect to be real. When they called for boarding, she was one of the first on the plane, throwing her bag into the overhead bin before sliding out of the aisle and into the middle seat of her row.

  “Are you traveling alone?” a young man asked. He stood in the aisle, holding up the rest of the line while he looked down at her.

  He couldn’t know his question caused her breath to catch. Alone. It was a word she would need to get used to.

  “Yes,” she said. “Why?”

  “If you’d like the outside seat, my fiancée and I could sit together. Or you could take the window?” He looked hopeful, and then Sadie saw the ponytailed woman behind him, holding on to his belt loop, her chin resting on his back as though she were weary of traveling.

  Sadie nodded, then moved over to the window seat, grateful for a place to turn away from everyone else.

  Later, out of the corner of her eye, she couldn’t help but notice their entwined fingers and the way he frequently leaned over to kiss the top of his fiancée’s head. When they began to discuss their upcoming honeymoon, she put the airline earphones in and flipped to the first movie that came up. She had to bite her tongue to keep from warning them that love didn’t conquer all—that they’d better be prepared for when life kicked you in the gut, because holding hands and whispering sweet words wouldn’t solve anything when everything went upside down.

  However, they seemed to be a nice couple—if a little naive—and after the plane landed and the wheels hit the tarmac and rolled to the gate, everyone stood, ready to disembark. The young man retrieved Sadie’s bag from the overhead compartment and handed it to her before getting his own. He thanked her again for being so accommodating.

  His affection for his fiancée had somewhat impressed Sadie; then his chivalry won her over.

  She smiled and wished them luck—and meant it.

  Soon she was off the plane, through the airport, and standing on the curb texting Lauren to pick her up.

  As she waited, she found a bench and sat, knowing it was to be the last moment of rest for a while, at least until her daughter pulled up and was within reach. Then she would be moving in fast-forward. The young had a way of throwing life into high gear, forcing the older generation to hang on or get left behind.

  Less than half an hour later, her theory was confirmed.

  Lauren pulled to the curb and leaned across the seat, her smile wide and inviting, her energy brimming. She popped the lock and pushed the passenger door open, then quickly relocated the piles of papers and books to the back seat so that Sadie would have somewhere to sit.

  “Throw your bag back there, and get in,” she said, beckoning Sadie to hurry before airport security waved them along.

  Sadie complied, throwing her bag into the back and climbing in, already feeling rushed but also filled with joy at the sight of her daughter.

  Lauren leaned over the console, hugging her tightly before pulling the car back on the road.

  “Why didn’t you give me some better notice that you were coming? I could’ve planned something,” she said.

  “I didn’t know,” Sadie replied. “I just woke up and missed you so much that I had to come.”

  “Well, that’s very un-Sadie-like,” Lauren joked. “I was on my way out when I checked my messages. Glad I did. But anyway, we’ll figure out something.”

  She slowed to let a car slide into the pickup lane in front of her, then eased out toward the exit.

  Now Sadie felt self-conscious. She hadn’t even considered that maybe her daughter already had something planned
for her Saturday. Something she’d rather do than spend time with her mother.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. Just like that, she’d become an imposition.

  Lauren glanced over at her. “Sorry? What—no. Don’t say that. I’m glad you came, Mom. Really.”

  “I’m at the same hotel I stayed in last time,” Sadie said. “If you’ve already made plans for today, I can hang out there until tomorrow.”

  Lauren shook her head vehemently. “Absolutely not. I was just going to the library. That can wait.”

  She sounded sincere, and Sadie relaxed. “Okay, but if you’ll swing by the hotel, I’ll check in, and then we can go grab some lunch. I just need a few minutes to freshen up.”

  “We aren’t going there yet. I just thought of something I want to show you.”

  “What?”

  “Olmsted Point,” Lauren said. “As soon as I can get out of this maze of crazy.”

  Sadie wanted to spend time with Lauren, but she wasn’t thinking of doing anything so . . . energetic. The flight was long and had sucked all the energy out of her. “Do we have to do this today?”

  “Yes,” Lauren said. “Every time you visit, we do the same thing. You take me to the grocery store to fill my pantry; then we go out for a meal or more shopping. You leave with a hole in your wallet, and I end up with groceries for a week and a new pair of shoes.”

  “That’s because I know you don’t eat well on your limited budget,” Sadie said. “And in my defense, you told me you needed those shoes.”

  So maybe she didn’t actually need clothes or shoes, but Sadie liked to spoil her. Not to mention she had no doubt that Lauren’s cupboards would be filled with only cereal and ramen. The least they could do was add some fruits and vegetables to her diet. Put some meat in her freezer. It would make Sadie feel better when she left knowing that for a week or two there would be some good meal options.

  Lauren laughed. “Okay, I did con you into those shoes. And we’ll buy groceries tomorrow. But today I’m breaking the cycle, and we’re going to make a different kind of memory.”

  Sadie agreed on that. They would be making a memory. This would be the day that the notion of a two-parent home waiting for Lauren on the East Coast would be shattered. Sadie just hoped she could make her see that the upcoming change would be for the best.

  They followed the traffic out of the airport park. Lauren followed too close behind other cars for Sadie’s liking, but since nothing infuriated her more than having her driving criticized, Sadie stayed silent and hoped they wouldn’t have a fender bender.

  A few minutes later they were out on the freeway, pulling away from the madness of commuters.

  “How’s the internship?” Sadie asked.

  “Good. I’m learning a lot.”

  “Not missing the South yet?”

  Lauren laughed. “I do crave a tall glass of sweet tea just about every day. And my lab partner drives me insane with the techno music she plays. She would rather die than turn on any country.”

  That made Sadie smile, though she would’ve rather heard her daughter remark that it was home she missed, not tea and tunes.

  “Well, you’re about to wrap it up anyway,” Sadie said.

  “Mmm.” Lauren nodded. She kept her eyes on the road, her expression suddenly intense. She took yet another curve too fast, making Sadie cringe. The scenery was beautiful, but it was hard to concentrate on it when she feared her daughter’s driving would send them over a guardrail, careening to their deaths.

  Sadie closed her eyes for a moment.

  You cannot control things from this side of the car, she told herself. Breathe.

  When her pulse slowed, she opened her eyes and took the opportunity to study her daughter’s face, noting how the angles had changed. Gone were the rosy, chubby cheeks of childhood that had followed her into her teen years. Now Lauren was nineteen, and Sadie could really see the woman she was becoming. She was beautiful, her coloring and distinct Asian features so different from those of her friends, making her stand out in any crowd.

  Sadie thought of the contrast between her children. Her son had come into the world with blond hair and blue eyes, directly inherited from her side of the family. An all-American boy who’d exuded friendliness and acceptance. Strangers had been drawn to him like moths to a flame, stopping to admire him or engage in conversation. Sadie couldn’t count the number of times she’d had to remind him not to be too friendly, that there needed to be boundaries.

  It hurt to think of him, and she blinked rapidly, washing away the memory. She needed to focus, be in the here and now, not mired in the past.

  Lauren was obviously on a mission. Sadie’s apprehension increased, but she squashed it.

  So far, neither of them had mentioned what day it was. Usually on this date every year, no matter where they were and what they were involved in, Sadie made sure it didn’t pass unacknowledged. At times it was only with a card and a hug and a sigh of regret that over the years, the festivities for it had dwindled. She’d almost missed it this year, but now, because she wanted to tell Lauren of the changes she was soon to make, she was here and determined that the memory of that special event would not completely fade away in the ocean of new moments and highlights that now filled Lauren’s life.

  “I would take you to see El Capitan, but to see it, we’d have to go farther around the pass,” Lauren said.

  “Isn’t that where—”

  “Yep,” Lauren interrupted. “That British hiker was killed there a few months ago. When he heard the first rumble of the rocks separating from the wall, he jumped down and huddled over his wife to protect her. Saved her life. Really sad, especially because they were there to celebrate their one-year anniversary.”

  “And now she’s a widow,” Sadie said. She remembered the story. Lauren had called her that day, her emotions high as she described how close she’d been to the scene of the tragedy. Her study group had been out doing a park cleanup excursion when they’d heard a rumble and seen plumes of white dust rising in the air. When the sirens had begun and then their instructor’s phone had started going off, they’d learned what had happened and had been immediately ordered to evacuate the area.

  Sadie didn’t care to see where it happened, and Lauren didn’t elaborate further.

  Finally, they pulled off Tioga Road, following the pass until Lauren pulled into the designated parking area for Olmsted Point and turned off the ignition. She folded her hands over the steering wheel and leaned her chin on them, looking out, her expression thoughtful.

  “You okay, Lauren?” Sadie asked, concerned her daughter had made herself motion sick. Lauren had a weak stomach in cars and on planes and boats. But usually if she was driving, it was manageable.

  “I’m fine. Just look at that.”

  Sadie followed Lauren’s gaze and looked out the window. Her eyes were drawn to what appeared to be a line of ants crawling up the face of a huge rock. She squinted into the distance.

  “Are those—” she began.

  “Yep. Climbers. And that’s the famous granite Half Dome. I want you to see it before you leave. And there’s a short walk from here I really want to go on. Cooper said it’s a well-marked and easy trail. We’ll be back in the car within an hour.”

  So there they had it. Sadie had known Lauren had something up her sleeve. Sadie would’ve rather they spent their time together at a crowded mall or a quaint restaurant.

  “I don’t know, Lauren. I’m not really prepared for a walk. I did just fly across the country.” She mustered up her most exhausted expression. She really wanted to get to a place where she could tell Lauren of what was coming so she could spend the next day and a half comforting her. A walk in the wild wasn’t part of the plan.

  “Mom,” Lauren said, her voice teasing. “You act like you’re a hundred. We’re already here, and I promise we aren’t going far.”

  These days Sadie felt like she was a hundred. Or at least eighty. And she didn’t want to test nature. Sh
e had researched the area before Lauren accepted the internship. She knew the dangers of Yosemite. Now she thought of all the bear sightings she’d read about, as well as other tragedies. There were stories of tourists falling off waterfalls and cliffs, plunging to their deaths in their pursuit of the perfect photos. She didn’t care how easy or well marked the path was. She knew those trails were full of unimaginable things—creatures, bugs, and wild animals.

  And besides, Lauren was well aware how much Sadie hated nature.

  What she didn’t know was that at one time, Sadie had enjoyed the outdoors. Years ago, she and Tom had owned acreage on Lake Burton—an impulse buy where they’d planned to someday build a log cabin, a secret retreat they’d use to get away from the corporate world when the noise got to be too much. They’d gone there for years, taking a picnic basket and wine, laughing and dreaming on long afternoons. Sometimes floating quietly and peacefully down the river in their battered canoe, sharing the gift of silence that only a couple confident in their relationship could comfortably pull off.

  When Jacob was old enough, he and Tom had camped there while Tom carved out paths and worked to clear a spot for the cabin they wanted to build one day. Jacob had loved the land as much as his dad, feeling the same pull toward nature and the rugged outdoors. Their lake property was also where Tom had nurtured his love of owling, and by the time Jacob had turned ten, they’d been bonding over the same hobby, taking photos and logging data, chattering incessantly about the behavior and quirks of the noble winged creatures.

  In the midst of it all, Sadie had pursued the adoption journey that would make their family complete, a daughter to balance out all the testosterone. But her boys had been on board, too, just as anxious as she had been to bring Lauren home.

  Then in what seemed an instant, everything had come to a screeching stop. Now, even thinking of that day brought back a wave of grief and sorrow.