Forever, Alabama

by Susan Sands

  He tossed aside the governor’s letter with a renewed sense of determination to prioritize the people in his life over the things and career. Gathering things had never been his goal. Doing good for the people he loved and the people who needed it was way more important. Ben liked his house and property and had worked hard to earn and maintain it, so he was proud of it. Beyond that, the stuff didn’t matter so much.

  Sabine mattered. And she was beginning to matter more and more. She was the real deal, as he’d commented before. Honest and trustworthy. That mattered.

  “Thanks so much for your help, Doctor O’Connor. I’ll do my best to try and stop correcting my family and neighbors’ grammar. I guess I can see why it might be annoying. But it irritates me to the moon when they don’t even try to use the proper words and pronunciation.”

  Sabine smiled at Mrs. Boone. “You can’t change others and their behaviors, Mrs. Boone—only how you respond to them.”

  The tiny, seventy-plus year old woman patted her on her shoulder and shuffled out. Her children referred her to counseling after throwing up their hands over her behavior. Her bossy, know-it-all manner had become so irksome they’d begun to avoid her. Sabine thought that while the woman was overbearing, she was also lonely and attention-seeking. So, it seemed they were dealing with a chicken/egg situation.

  Sabine rolled her shoulders, trying to ease some of the day’s tension and remembered the mail she’d picked up earlier.

  Sabine spotted the large envelope on the corner of her desk, where she’d haphazardly placed it, along with the other items that had been slipped through the slot. Her hand shook when she read the return address. Sabine tore open the offending correspondence. If you want your divorce so badly, plan to attend. You’ll need to arrive a day early to go over wardrobe with the staff and our public plan of action. We will discuss details of the divorce settlement at that time as well. I’ve notified my attorneys, and they are currently drafting an agreement. I don’t expect you’ll require any further representation. In fact, I highly discourage it. Send your travel details and arrival information to my assistant. Her contact info is listed below.

  Included in the envelope was an invitation to the Louisiana state governor’s ball—in two weeks. She had two weeks to figure out how to navigate her future.

  She wondered how Richard had gotten her work address, but worrying about that would be a waste of time. He, like her father, paid people to find things out. Plus, he had a copy of her birth certificate in the safe at their home in New Orleans. Her perfect and beautiful home in the Garden District. She’d had a full-time staff there and never had to do her own laundry. How her life had changed. And, oh, how she preferred her current quaint lifestyle.

  Sabine closed her eyes and sighed, sending up a silent prayer for wisdom and guidance. She’d been in such a rush to find out what Richard wanted, she’d ignored the other pieces of mail. For some reason, she was compelled to complete the task.

  As she looked down on her desk at the rest of the pile, the logo jumped out at her. “OFFICES OF THE UNITED STATES ATTORNEYS.” The parole hearing. Sabine’s stomach dropped, and she scooted over to the sofa in her office and sat. This wouldn’t be welcome news, no matter what the letter revealed, simply because it would require something of her, and she was about tapped out.

  Maybe she should wait to open it until she got home and uncorked a bottle of red. Yes, that was a better way to deal with this today. With that mildly comforting thought, she locked up her office and headed home. Picking up her cell, she voice-called her mother’s number to make certain to avoid a repeat of catching her and Howard in the act again.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, Mom, I’m on the way. Do you have plans for dinner?”

  “Norman and I are planning to join Cammie and Grey out at the farmhouse. There’s leftover red beans and rice when you get hungry. Oh, and there’s a bag of salad greens as well.”

  “Sounds great. Have fun. I’m pretty beat, so I’m planning to do some paperwork and turn in early tonight.”

  “You do sound tired, honey. Be careful driving and I’ll see you soon.”

  Her mother’s concerned voice soothed her, as it nearly always had. It didn’t really upset Sabine that Mom was sleeping with Norman. Now that the shock of it had worn off, Sabine saw the real benefit in Mom finding comfort and hope for a future beyond the pain-filled past with her father and his betrayals. She’d said she was moving on with her life, and sure enough, she had begun the process with a literal bang. And, from what Sabine could tell, that bang was agreeing with Mom.

  When Sabine arrived home, Norman’s truck was already in the drive, so telling Mom about the upsetting mail she’d received wasn’t an option this evening.

  Gathering the offending papers, Sabine entered the house through the interior garage door. Mom and Norman were just inside the kitchen and jumped back when she opened the door.

  To hide her own embarrassment, Sabine joked, “I would tell you two crazy kids to get a room, but—”

  “Honey. I’m sorry. It’s like we’re teenagers again.” Her mother’s face was flushed.

  Sabine waved off her apology. “Don’t mind me. Y’all go on and do your thing.”

  “We were just on our way out. Can we bring you home a plate of Cammie’s fine cooking?” Norman asked.

  “As tempting as that sounds, I’m going to make a salad and call it a night; but thanks for thinking of me,” Sabine said.

  “Well, you have a nice evening. I won’t keep your mother out too late.”

  “Honey, I’ll just be a few miles down the road if you need me.”

  “Sure. I’m fine. Enjoy.”

  Her mother frowned slightly as she scrutinized Sabine’s phony smile. “Something’s up with you. Let’s have it.”

  “Have what?” Sabine gave it one final valiant effort to shake her mother.

  “You tell me, Daughter. There’s no fooling your mom. You look like somebody kicked your puppy.”

  “Mom!”

  “Well, you do. Out with it or I’m sending Norman home and you’ll have to live with the guilt of ruining my evening.”

  Sabine frowned at her mother, much as she might’ve when she was a decade or two younger. “Fine.”

  “Norman, could you excuse us a moment?” Mom asked.

  “Of course. I’ll just be in the other room.” He nodded toward the family room. “I think there’s a football game or something on.”

  Sabine gave him a weak smile. “Thanks. I don’t want to ruin your evening.”

  “Think nothing of it. I have a family, and they come first.”

  Once Norman had cleared the room, Sabine sighed heavily and said, “I got two letters today. One was from Richard and the other from the US Attorney’s office.”

  “Nothing like a double-whammy. Well, what did they say?”

  “I only got through the one from Richard. I haven’t worked up the courage to open the other one yet.”

  “Bring them in here and let’s do it together. Wine?”

  “Sadly, I had the same thought. I hardly drink, but this feels like something that requires liquid fortitude.”

  Her mother made a “bring it on” motion for Sabine to open the mail, then yelled toward the living room, “Norman, we need wine, if you’ll do the honors. And please tell your family we’ll be a little late. If you want to go on without me, I understand. Otherwise, please pop the cork on the good red and give us girls a half hour to deal with this little hiccup.”

  Norman entered. “It would be my pleasure.”

  Sabine shot her mother a does he know look.

  Norman placed two glasses in front of them, uncorked the fragrant pinot noir, and exited the room.

  “He guessed from my behavior there was an issue with us hiding from someone or something. Plus, I had to tell him about my past. I couldn’t very well sleep with a man without being truthful about who I was.” Guilt for doing exactly that sucker-punched Sabine in the gut.


  “I guess you were right to explain. It must be such a relief to confess the secret to someone else.” Sabine cast her eyes down in shame. “I haven’t told Ben any of it yet.”

  “Don’t you think he’s trustworthy?”

  “Maybe he is, but the honesty ship might have already sailed on my part. I first thought he was such a scumbag because of all the things I’d heard about him. So, I didn’t even consider moving forward with any kind of relationship.”

  “You didn’t value him enough to tell him the truth.”

  “No. Not at first. But now—well, now I do, but he thinks of me as such a trustworthy ‘real deal’ kind of person. I mean, I’m married and have a whole other identity beyond who he believes me to be. Like, even another name. How honest and trustworthy does that strike you? Everything he knows me to be is a big, fat lie.”

  Mom took a big gulp of wine. “I see your quandary, dear.”

  Sabine snorted a little. “Yes. Quandary. That’s a pretty fitting description for it.”

  “So, break out this mess and let’s have a look.” She motioned to the papers Sabine had placed on the bar where they sat.

  Sabine shoved the letter and invitation in front of Mom.

  As she read it, her mother’s frown grew deeper. “You’ve got to confide in Ben. He’s an attorney. He could represent you. If not represent you, he could certainly advise you.”

  “Absolutely not. Even if he were still willing to speak to me after I confessed my secrets, I can’t imagine he would consider helping me out of my mess.”

  “I do believe you’re underestimating your young man.”

  “He’s not my young man, Mom.”

  “Hmmph.” Her mother snorted.

  “Plus, I have no intention of dragging him into this disaster.”

  “I believe you should reconsider that position. You might not have a choice; have you considered that?”

  No, she hadn’t, actually. “I’ll cross that bridge if it gets that nasty. One way or another, I’ll get a divorce. I don’t want to have to threaten Richard with exposure to the public or ask Dad to not support him, but if he gets ugly, it might come to that.”

  “Honey, so far Richard has only been unpleasant. But take it from someone who’s seen the ugly underbelly of the way these guys operate; you don’t want to threaten one if you don’t have to. We have no idea how far Richard will go to protect his reputation or his candidacy. You’re MIA from the public, and have been for going on two years. Let’s not allow him the motivation to make that a permanent reality. I don’t want to scare you, but I also don’t want you to feel secure around these people. They change. Politics changes them. Richard isn’t the man you fell in love with or the man you married. I guarantee he’s grown a politician’s conscience—none at all.”

  “I—hadn’t really thought it through.” Sabine was shaken by her mother’s words.

  It was true. She didn’t know her own husband anymore.

  “Ben would know how to handle this. You heard about how he handled that situation for Sadie Beaumont, right? That Tad Beaumont was a real shitty piece of work, and rumor has it that Ben figured out how to neutralize him and his real threats against Sadie and their daughter.”

  Sabine silently nodded. She knew the secrets there, far more than her mother even would imagine. Ben had handled that very tricky and threatening situation. It was one of the few instances she’d been around him early on and seen the altruistic side of him. It had confused her.

  But could he forgive Sabine for her lies and omissions? She guessed there was one way to find out. “Okay, I’ll speak with Ben.”

  Her mother covered her hand with her own. “Good girl. It’s a wise decision. I’d feel so much better knowing you had him in your corner during this battle.”

  Sabine smiled at her mom.

  “Now, let’s open the other one. First, more wine.” She topped off both their glasses.

  The letter revealed date and time of her father’s parole hearing and instructions on the family’s role in the proceedings. They would have the opportunity to speak on his behalf for approximately five minutes, total. “They’re only giving us a week to prepare?” Mom asked.

  “It likely won’t take more than a half hour to prepare something to read to the board,” Sabine said, her tone sourer than she’d expected.

  Writing a persuasive letter didn’t sound especially difficult to Sabine. She would have to stretch the truth to the barest threads, of course, but pleading for the release of her father on the grounds that the family loved and needed him, and that he wasn’t a danger to anyone shouldn’t technically be a hard thing to do. Ethically, it would be a doozy.

  “Do you think we can get Rachel to go with us?” Mom asked.

  “All we can do is ask. Once this is out of the way, and the board decides one way or another, we can move forward. As much as we don’t want to deal with Dad as a free-roaming citizen again, at least we won’t be sitting around on hold waiting.”

  “Once your divorce is final, you can go about explaining to each patient why you changed your name and kept a low profile. I’m sure most are women, and they’ll understand how intimidated and embarrassed you’ve been by all this. I know you can salvage your reputation even if someone spills the beans before you’re ready to tell everyone.”

  Sabine cringed at that thought. “I can only hope, but I really pray it doesn’t come to that.”

  “Would you prefer that I stay home with you this evening?”

  “What? Of course not. I would feel awful if I caused you to cancel your plans.”

  “If you’re sure, I’ll take that fine man out there out for the rest of the evening.”

  Sabine smiled her gratitude. “Thanks so much, Mom. I feel such relief at sharing this burden with you.”

  “Of course you do, sweetheart. That’s why I squeezed it out of you.”

  Her mother winked and waved as she marched toward the living room in search of her man.

  The house felt hollow and empty once Mom and Norman left. Sabine paced around; she was edgy and anxious, and unable to relax, all due to the corner she’d lied herself into with Ben. Now, she would ask him for forgiveness, and possibly his help. She didn’t have the right to expect either.

  Chapter Ten

  Ben’s phone was blowing up. Texts, voice mails, and social media were filled with messages questioning whether he and Sabine were an item. He figured enough people had seen them together more than twice that the alarm had been sounded. It was time to confirm the farce so that he could live more peacefully. If it was widely known that he had a steady girlfriend, then he could focus on healing past hurts and moving forward toward a real relationship with Sabine.

  She just didn’t know it yet. He’d seen the panic in her eyes when he’d dangled the possibility over dinner before they’d been interrupted the other night. They hadn’t spoken since, but it was time for some more “therapy.”

  As he drank his coffee, Ben read through the morning paper. He’d gotten an early start, so he’d stopped by the diner and ordered breakfast. Matthew, his soon-to-be brother-in-law, was there, clearly annoying Thelma, the waitress who’d worked there since he was a kid. Matthew produced and directed his sister, Cammie’s cooking show. He made a point to stop by the diner every morning for breakfast, and to aggravate Thelma.

  Ben watched their antics with a grin. “Oh, and Thelma, could you make sure the omelet only has egg whites? You know how I detest the yellows.”

  “Yeah, Mr. Stick-Up-the-Ass. I’ve got your egg whites.” Thelma sneered at him, then smirked when she turned around.

  “You really shouldn’t make enemies of the locals,” Ben said to Matthew from across the aisle.

  “I know I shouldn’t, but it’s the best part of my day,” Matthew replied.

  “Emma would have your hide.”

  “She has my hide daily.” Matthew grinned.

  “Y’all are gross.” But Ben was especially thankful for Matthew’s r
ole in bringing his sister, Emma, back to life. Figuratively, of course. She’d been stuck in a far worse rut than Ben for years—not allowing herself to become involved with a man because of a past misstep, not to mention her ex-boyfriend’s role in keeping men away from her without her knowledge. Matthew had been the one to bring change and help her find love again.

  “Just wait until you get gobsmacked, my brother. You’ll be just as gross and won’t care who knows.”

  “Well, I’ll forgive you since Emma is happy.”

  “I hear you’ve gotten cozy with our town therapist,” Matthew said.

  “Gossiping, Matthew?”

  “Just checking in at the source.”

  “Well, it’s true that Sabine and I have been seeing one another. You can make of it what you want.” He nodded toward Matthew.

  Ben rose and left a twenty on the table, blew a kiss to Thelma, who rewarded him with a wide three-toothed smile, and then he headed out to his truck.

  As he drove toward the office, his focus moved away from his current social media activity and toward his clients. He had a couple cases that would require extensive research. Fortunately, there were interns and legal assistants to help with that, but Ben had to direct them to the precise information required to make his points in the upcoming trials, should the opposition decide not to settle.

  Trials required mountains of paperwork and extensive research of items that might or might not be used, depending on which direction the case went. Ben was always prepared.

  As he entered the office, his excessively efficient assistant, Chase, met him at the front door with coffee. “Did you hear the news?”