by Dana Nussio
“That’s what you get when you use a tailpipe to cut through duct tape around your wrists.”
“Guess so.”
Neither mentioned anything about the injury to her shoulder, which was something people got when they jumped out in front of loaded guns. Or worse.
“I’d kind of hoped you would have stopped by yesterday.”
He shrugged. “I was busy. I had a few things to answer for at work.”
“I’m going to be dealing with some stuff, too, but my attorney said I might be able to get probation. Mitigating circumstances. Mom said she would help out, too.”
He blinked. “Your mom? The same mom who cut you off?”
“Same one. After the police contacted her to search her basement for the safe, she asked them where she could reach me. They told her the hospital, though I’m surprised they didn’t just give her my room’s phone number, as often as they’ve been calling. Especially the detective handling Tonya’s case, who will be coming here tomorrow to take my statement.”
He’d been half listening to the details, but one struck him as more significant. “Wait. You said your mother reached you at the hospital. How?”
“I’m registered under my real name.” Then she pointed to the dry-erase board. “I told the nurses I prefer to be called Sarah. If you didn’t know, how did you find me?”
“Ted gave me your room number. He’s been updating me.”
“He just wants to help out. And he adores me.”
“That he does.”
They could keep dancing around topics, and he could leave without saying the things that needed to be said, but he couldn’t help asking a few more questions to delay leaving her a little longer.
“So, what happens now? Will you and Aiden go back to Illinois? Will you stay with your mom? Will he even go by Aiden?”
“Let me unpack that,” she said, chuckling. “Aiden wants me to legally change his name to Aiden, and he’s not a big fan of his last name, either. And, let me see, I’m just living day-to-day for a while. Mom has offered to set me up in an apartment near her until I get my feet on the ground. We both have regrets and want to make up for lost time.”
“Maybe that would be good for you two to go to Illinois.”
“It would make it easier on you.”
He straightened, his shoulder blades touching the back of the chair. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Look, Jamie, I have a lot of regrets. And not going with you to turn myself in was one of the biggest. I should never have run. Or tried to run.”
She held her hands wide, and it must have caused a twinge to her shoulder because she winched and settled back against the pillows.
“It was just another lie, and you were an expert at telling them.”
She flinched, though she hadn’t moved on the bed. “I meant it when I said I would go with you, but then I got scared, and I fell into old habits.”
“Because you could only trust yourself. I even told you I loved you, and you couldn’t trust me enough to let me help. I can’t be with someone who doesn’t trust me.”
“You’ve got it all wrong. I didn’t leave because I didn’t trust you.” She took a deep breath. “It was because I...love you. Tonya was already dead, and I couldn’t risk someone else I love dying because of me.”
“That’s all pretty easy to say now that it’s past, and you’re not looking over your shoulder anymore.”
“Easy?”
The word came out so loud that they both shot a look toward the hospital room door. She’d also come up off the bed, so she squeezed her eyes closed for several seconds as she settled back against the pillows. When she spoke again, she had lowered her voice.
“Nothing I did with you was easy, and that included letting you be the first man I’d trusted with my body since...”
Jamie pressed his lips together. He did know that had been significant for her, and some of the most precious moments in his life.
“But then, when things got tough, you ran,” he said. “You couldn’t even tell me you were going. I had to find out from a voice-mail message from Ted, telling me to track his phone.”
“So that’s how you found us so fast.”
“That and a citizen who called about two cars on a neighbor’s land.”
“I’m sorry I ran, but I can tell that this isn’t all about trust.” She shook head several times, pursing her lips. “In fact, I don’t think this is about me at all.”
“Now this I’ve got to hear.”
“You lost Mark. It was devastating for you. I get that. But you’ve been protecting yourself ever since. From getting too close. You live in fear of losing someone else you love because you don’t think you could survive it.”
“There’s only one problem with your theory, Dr. Freud.”
“And what’s that?”
“I did let myself get close to you. And I told you I love you. First. Then you ran.”
“Yes, I ran. From a man who tried to kill me and succeeded in murdering three other people. So perhaps my fears were well founded.”
“You didn’t let me protect you.” He didn’t know he was going to say it. Had never considered it. But now that the words were out there between them, he knew that it was the most honest thing he’d ever said to her, other than that he loved her. He’d needed her to need him, but like always, she’d relied only on herself.
After all the things they’d said to each other, this was the one that made her cry. At first her eyes only filled with tears, and then they overflowed, and the rain kept coming.
“Look, Sarah, I’m sorry. I should have waited to have this conversation with you. Until maybe we’d both had time to think it over. The timing is terrible. You just lost your—Well, your ex-husband just died.”
“I hear what you’re saying, but you’re wrong. I have been running for years, but I’m not running anymore.” Sarah tilted her head to the side and pinned him with her stare. “You might ask yourself who’s running now.”
Jamie held out his hands. “What do you want from me, Sarah?”
She stared at her hands for few seconds and then looked up at him again. “Nothing. Everything.”
* * *
Jamie pushed open the door at Casey’s, the bells grating on him more than normal. On the other hand, everything had annoyed him lately. The dining room was so deserted that he almost wondered if the place was closed, but a restaurant serving American cuisine wasn’t the destination of choice for Cinco de Mayo, either.
“There he is,” Ted called out as he emerged from the kitchen. He crossed to Jamie, and they shook hands. “I’m so glad you could make it. It’s been a while.”
Just over two weeks since the double homicide and officer-involved shooting, but who was counting? Not that he’d thought about it every day since then, and about Sarah fifty times more often by a conservative count. Of course, he hadn’t seen her since that day at the hospital. By choice. How was he supposed to get over her if he saw her in person, as if in his mind wasn’t enough?
They slipped into one of the booths, with Jamie facing the front door the way he always preferred because of his training. The sound of the swinging doors opening still bought him around. One of the other waitresses nodded as she carried out a tray with two water glasses.
“I told you she wasn’t working today.”
Jamie nodded. It had been the only reason he’d agreed to come.
“In fact, she won’t be coming back to work. She’s moving to be near her mom.”
He swallowed. “I told her that will be good for them.”
“Now don’t sound so enthusiastic about it. Why don’t you just admit that you’re miserable?”
“Is that why you invited me here today? To ruin my Saturday?”
He started to stand, but Ted gestured for him to stay s
eated. “Word from the other Brighton Post guys is that you’re ruining all their Saturdays, but, no, that wasn’t why I invited you. This was.” He stopped and executed a two-finger whistle.
The office door opened, and Aiden came running down the hall.
“Surprise!”
“Hey, buddy!”
He ran to the table and slid in next to Jamie.
“His mom needed to do some packing, so I offered to keep him around here for a few hours.”
Aiden must have taken the lull in the conversation as an opportunity, for he leaned over and snaked his arms around Jamie. “I’ve missed you, Mr. Jamie. Why haven’t you been at the center?”
“I’ve missed you, too. Sorry. Just been busy.”
Busy brooding at his house. Busy feeling sorry for himself. That still counted, right?
“Did you hear we’re moving?” He waited for Jamie’s nod. “To be with my grandma. I didn’t have a grandma, but I do now. She’d be nice. She gives me jelly beans from a bag in her purse.”
“Well, I guess she’s a keeper then.”
“Want to see a picture of her?”
“I guess.”
Aiden bounced out of the seat, raced at his usual full speed back to the office and returned with his backpack. From it, he pulled out a small framed photograph.
“Here it is. Mom said I could keep it.”
Jamie accepted it and immediately regretted it. Aiden’s grandmother was pictured with a teenage Sarah. They were both smiling, so he guessed it was taken before their relationship had soured.
“Isn’t she pretty?”
“Yeah,” Jamie said, and then cleared his throat.
Aiden stuffed the frame back in his pack and was off on another adventure, this time to help Marilyn fill the saltshakers.
“I bet the boy didn’t even know you weren’t talking about his grandma,” Ted said.
Jamie frowned at him, but turned as Belinda came out of the kitchen, carrying a tray.
“Oh, I forgot. I ordered pie for us,” Ted said.
The waitress set plates of apple amaretto in front of them.
“But I thought—”
“No, Sarah hasn’t been back to bake. But I froze this one. She made it special the day she thought she had to leave. I figured the intended recipient should at least get some of it, so I saved it.”
“She made a goodbye pie for me?” But already he was shoveling the first bite in his mouth, remembering as well as savoring. Even when she’d believed she had no choice but to run, she’d thought of him.
“Tastes better than a Dear John letter, I’m thinking. “Now there’s one more thing I need to say to you before—”
“Give it a rest, will you, Ted?”
He nodded. “I will. Absolutely. After I say this last thing.”
Jamie set his empty plate on the edge of the table and sat back, crossing his arms. “Go ahead.”
“I know a lot about being alone. Since my wife died, I’ve had a lot of it. Now if I had the chance for one do-over for the mistakes I made with my brother, I would take it.” He cleared throat and pinned Jamie with his stare. “I know you were hurt that Sarah bailed on you, but you need to give her one chance for a do-over. And give me one chance for the daughter and grandson I never had.”
Jamie shook his head. “Ted, I know that you care about her, but—”
Aiden returned to the table then in a flurry of energy. “Mr. Jamie, can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
“Is it risky or brave to love someone?”
He glanced sidelong at Ted, but the other man raised his hands in a gesture of innocence.
“Why do you ask?”
“Because I need to find someone to love my mom.”
“Buddy, I think love is one of those things that might be both risky and brave.”
Jamie might have said more, but the front door opened then, and the woman who’d been the topic of discussion all afternoon stepped inside. Her arm was in a sling, her hair was in a messy ponytail and she didn’t wear a stitch of makeup with her jeans and T-shirt, but she’d never looked more beautiful.
She startled when she noticed him and then smiled as she approached.
“I only said she wasn’t working. Not that she wouldn’t be here.”
Jamie didn’t even look Ted’s way to answer. “Thanks, my friend.”
Sarah slid in the booth next to Ted, and the four of them laughed together for another hour.
She was oblivious to the fact that with her presence alone, she’d completed two different conversations. But Jamie knew now that if anyone needed the chance for a do-over, it was him. And Aiden didn’t need to find someone to love his mom. Someone already did.
* * *
As Sarah answered her apartment door that Sunday afternoon, butterflies were completing aerial dives in her stomach. Great acrobatic moves that would be crowd pleasers but dives nonetheless. Something had changed with Jamie yesterday at the diner, and she didn’t know what it meant, but she was tempted to feel a little hope.
“Wow, that was fast,” he said, when she opened the door.
“Just two locks these days.” She indicated the door with a game show hostess move. “I leave three unlocked most of the time, like I don’t have a care in the world.”
“Keep that up and you’ll have squatters in here in no time.”
“Or they could just rent the place.”
“Oh. Right.”
She couldn’t believe she was leaving, either. Maybe he’d only meant packing when he’d offered yesterday to come by and help. She’d probably read the other part into his words. The part where he begged her not to pack, but to unpack and stay with him.
Maybe he was just trying that whole post-relationship-friendship thing, which at that moment seemed overrated. She couldn’t be with him without wanting to really be with him.
“Well, where do you want me to start?” he asked.
Sarah turned away, refusing to acknowledge the burning behind her eyes. She couldn’t let herself cry. He’d told her how he felt. He’d been up front with her that it was over between them. It wasn’t his fault she’d been convinced that he’d changed his mind.
“I guess you can start in the kitchen. With this sling, I’m having a rough time getting up and down to pack the stuff from the lower cabinets. And the upper cabinets...” She paused, pointing. “Forget about it.”
“Then I’m your man.”
She swallowed and turned away again. Was he being intentionally cruel, or did he just not get it? She wanted so much for him to be her man and a wonderful male role model for Aiden. But life, it appeared, really wasn’t fair. And choices, whether whimsically or desperately made, had consequences.
“Oh, I forgot. I bought a box of tools in case we have to take some things apart.”
“You brought a box of stuff?” Even feeling a little sorry for herself, she couldn’t help smiling at that. “You do understand that the point is to take boxes out of the apartment, right?”
“Oh, I’ve got it. Don’t you worry.”
Still, he passed by her and slipped out the door, reappearing with a medium-sized and heavy-looking box. He took it right into the kitchen and set it on the counter.
“When did you say that Aiden will be back?”
“I didn’t. He’s spending the afternoon with Nadia. She’s so sad to see us go.”
Sarah waited, hoping he would say he was sad, too, but when he didn’t, she resigned herself to the truth. He really was here only to help her pack. To give herself a few minutes to accept that truth, she moved to the bedroom and started emptying the dresser. But she was on only the second drawer when he appeared in the doorway.
“Sarah, would you mind helping me for a minute in the kitchen?”
She nodded, following
him. But outside the bedroom door, when he moved to the side, she found a candlelit dinner on her tiny dinette table, complete with a white tablecloth, a carryout bag of food and extra-thick paper plates. A bottle of wine was chilling in the ice cube bin, and a box of chocolates rested next to it.
The butterflies were at it again, times ten.
“What is all of this?” She hoped she knew, but she didn’t know, and if he didn’t say something soon, she was going to explode.
“I thought I would give you a proper send-off.”
“Oh.” The word came out before she could stop it, her disappointment encapsulated in two little letters.
“Or not.”
Her gaze had lowered to the floor, but his confusing comment had her looking up again.
Jamie was on one knee next to the table, and in his hand was an open jeweler’s box with the most beautiful solitaire diamond nestled inside.
“Oh, Jamie.”
He set the box on the table, guided her into one of the kitchen chairs and took both her hands in his. “Sarah, I dreamed of you before I knew you, and then when I met you, my dreams paled next to the real flesh-and-blood woman.
“I am so in love with you. With all of you, the parts I know now and the parts I will meet in the next sixty years. Be my partner in life, my lover, my confidante and my friend. Will you marry me, Sarah?”
She was already crying, but she needed him to know what she was feeling. “Jamie, I love you. I was afraid to be myself when I met you, and you would accept nothing less. You taught me that I not only can love, but that I am worthy of love. You value trust more than anything, and I trust you implicitly.”
He grinned at her as he rose to his feet and pulled her into his arms. “So...do you have an answer for me?”
“Yes. Yes. And yes.”
He pressed his lips to hers in a kiss filled with passion and so much more. It was a promise of the vulnerability, partnership and joy they would share. When he finally broke off the kiss, both of them were breathless.
“I know we have a lot of things to talk about.” He strode away from her and then back. “You’re leaving to be with your mother. After you just found her, I can’t ask you to leave her again, so I’ll try to find another law-enforcement position there.”
