And yet those friends had disappeared when the marriage fell apart, and their beautiful life was over. Sabrina remembered the night it happened. Hearing raised voices, she’d crept down the stairs and listened to her father break her mother’s heart. The business had failed and the house had been mortgaged to the hilt, and he was planning to declare bankruptcy and start over somewhere else. With someone else—ironically, his former secretary.
That was when Sabrina and her mother had moved to that ratty apartment in a part of the city Sabrina had never seen before. Mama filled out some job applications, but two years as a receptionist and twelve as a stay-at-home mom didn’t make for a stellar résumé. Not that she was trying very hard to find a job, or to do anything else. The shock of the husband she loved abandoning them had taken all the spirit out of her.
It fell to Sabrina to hold it together. She’d been the one to manage the tiny check her father sent every month, to set the rent aside in an envelope and shop for bargains in the little grocery store on the corner, next to the library.
That local library was Sabrina’s saving grace. She spent hours there in the comforting company of books, escaping into other places, other lives. The librarian would talk with her, ask questions about her mom, generally make sure Sabrina was okay. It was a comment from the librarian about family that led Sabrina to ask her mother about her parents.
Over a dinner of peanut butter sandwiches, she’d asked, “Do I have a grandmother?”
“You do. My parents are your grandparents.”
“Where do they live?”
“Here. In Phoenix.”
She had family here? “Are they nice?”
Mama shrugged. “Nice enough, I suppose.”
“Why haven’t I met them?”
Mama had turned away and gazed out the window at the blank wall of the next unit instead of looking at her. “My parents, well, they opposed my marriage. They said I was too young, especially since he was ten years older than me. Your father took it personally. After we married, he didn’t want me to have anything to do with them.” She mumbled something that sounded like “burned bridges.”
At that point, Sabrina didn’t much care about her father’s hurt feelings. Grandparents. Some of the kids at school talked a lot about their grandparents, how they would take them out for ice cream or buy them presents. It sounded like heaven to Sabrina. “Since Daddy’s gone, can we talk to them now?”
“No. Not now.” Mama stood up and opened the refrigerator. “You should eat more vegetables. Do you want a carrot?”
But Sabrina refused to be distracted. “Why not now?”
Mama sighed. “I have some pride left. I’m not crawling back to them for help. Maybe once I get on my feet, find a job and a better place to live. Then maybe I’ll call them. But not now.”
Sabrina couldn’t get the idea of grandparents out of her mind. If Mama wouldn’t call them until she got a job, Sabrina would make sure she did. On her next trip to the library, she’d checked out two books on job hunting and one on how to dress for business.
“Are these for your mom?” the librarian had asked.
“Yes. She’s going to find a good job.” Maybe if she said it enough, it would be true.
Mama glanced at the books, but she never got around to reading them. It didn’t matter, though. Sabrina read them from cover to cover, learning all about applications and résumés and interviews. She read about how important it was to dress differently for different sorts of jobs, based on the impression you were trying to make. She found it fascinating.
When she’d returned the books to the library, the librarian asked her if her mom had found a job.
“Not yet,” Sabrina had replied. “But she’s working on it.”
“I don’t know what kind of job she’s looking for, but a friend of mine mentioned her insurance agent is looking for a receptionist.”
Receptionist. Mama had experience as a receptionist, and all the books said experience was important. This was meant to be. Sabrina was sure of it.
It took a little longer to convince her mother. Months of disappointment had left her wary, but finally she agreed to at least fill out an application. Sabrina helped her get ready, to fix her hair and put on some of those nice clothes she had in her closet. But something wasn’t right. According to the book, a job applicant in fields like insurance, banking and accounting needed to appear solid and trustworthy. Mama looked like she was going to a fancy lunch out with friends. At Sabrina’s suggestion, she’d removed most of the jewelry and brushed her curls into a smoother hairstyle. Sabrina added a scarf to cover the borderline too-low neckline of her blouse. And suddenly, Mama looked like someone you’d trust with your money and your secrets.
And it worked. She got the job. It didn’t pay all that much, but added to child support, it was enough that they were able to move to a better apartment a few months later. Mama kept her promise to contact her parents. Grandy died the next year, but at least they reconciled.
After his death, Abuelita convinced Mama that they should move in with her. It was a modest house, nothing like the one they’d had before, but it was clean and tidy and in a good school district. And there was love. All the skills Mama didn’t want to learn—knitting and embroidery and sewing—were fascinating to Sabrina. Abuelita had lovingly taught her how to combine fabrics, how to adjust patterns, how to hand-stitch an invisible hem. But six years later, Sabrina lost Abuelita, too. If only she could get back those first fourteen years she’d spent without a grandmother—something else her father had taken from her.
“Sabrina, are you still there?”
Sabrina jumped, causing the dog to leap to his feet. She smiled at him. “Sorry. Yes, I’m here. What did you say?”
“I asked how that team-builder you were telling me about went.”
Right. The team-builder. The one with the exploding beans. Mama didn’t need to know about that. “It was fine. It rained at first, but it cleared up. My team won a prize.”
“That’s great! I knew they’d love you!”
“I don’t know about that.”
“Of course they do. But I hate that you’re all the way up there in Alaska. You know if you change your mind, you can always stay here while you look for something better.”
“I’m not sure Mason would like that.”
“Yes, he would. He adores you.”
Sabrina doubted that. Mason was always polite, but she suspected he just put up with her because of Mama. Or maybe she was projecting her feelings onto him. “I’m good here.”
Mama paused. “I do need to tell you something. It’s about your father.” Mama’s voice had become serious.
Strange, when she’d just been thinking of him. Mama seldom mentioned him anymore. “What about him?”
“He died.”
“Oh.” Her father was dead. How odd. Sabrina paused, waiting for some emotion to hit her, but it felt like her mother was passing on news of some stranger she didn’t know. The father Sabrina remembered had disappeared long, long ago.
A few seconds passed before Mama spoke again. “Sabrina? Are you okay?”
“Yes, of course.” Sabrina shook her head to clear it. “When did he die?”
“Last month, I gather.”
“Thanks for letting me know.” Sabrina didn’t want to talk about her father. “Tell me more about your cruise.”
Sabrina listened while her mother rhapsodized about tropical beaches, fine dining and their elegant cabin aboard the ship. It all sounded glamorous and glittery, just like the life she’d had when she was married to Sabrina’s dad. Sabrina hoped history wouldn’t repeat itself, and that this marriage would last. For Mama’s sake.
CHAPTER SIX
LEITH ADJUSTED HIS rearview mirror and tried to straighten his tie, but it insisted on canting to one side like it was looking for an es
cape route. He knew the feeling. Giving up, he climbed out of his car and went down the stairwell to Sabrina’s apartment. Somewhere in the building, a dog barked. After a few moments, Sabrina opened the door. “Hi.”
Wow. She’d twisted her hair up on top of her head in the front, exposing sparkly earrings that dangled from her ears. The rest of her hair waved over her shoulders. Just as she’d promised Emma, Sabrina wore a dress with flowers on it. At least the bottom half had flowers. The lacy top of the dress was the color of alpenglow and hugged her slender waist, where the scallops of lace met the flowing skirt. “You look...” He almost said “beautiful,” but that would send the wrong message. This wasn’t a real date. “Nice.”
“Thank you.” She smiled. “You clean up pretty good yourself.”
Leith felt like a paper doll, dressed in someone else’s clothes, but that came with the territory. He looked down at Sabrina’s peach-colored toenails peeping from silver shoes. “Thanks. Only thing is, those shoes you’re wearing—”
“They’re Bianchis. You don’t like them?”
“They look good. I just don’t think you’ll want to wear them to this wedding.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s at a reindeer farm, and the heels would stick in the ground.”
“Reindeer farm?” She stared at him. “For real?”
“Yes. Sorry. I probably should have mentioned that.”
“Yeah. That would have been helpful.”
“I said it was outside.”
“I thought you meant like on a paved terrace in a garden, not on a farm. What do you wear to a farm wedding? Do I need to change my dress?”
“No, you look great. Just your shoes.”
She sighed and opened the door farther. “Come in while I change.”
He stepped into the apartment and looked around. A round table covered with a colorful cloth sat in the center of a beige carpet. Beside it was a deep red wooden chair. Two walls were painted a warm ivory. A wicker-framed mirror hung on one of them. The other two were dingy white, although one of them had lines of blue tape along the baseboard and ceiling. A wide swath of ivory paint ran along all the edges beside the tape. A couple of whiter patches revealed where someone had patched gouges or holes in the wall to prepare it for painting. Looked like the landlord had jumped the gun a little on renting out the apartment.
The room opened to the kitchen, where a large cardboard box was pushed against the ends of the cabinets, blocking the way. Sabrina stood on one foot and pulled her shoe off the other. A loud thump sounded and the box in the kitchen moved an inch.
“Hey. Stop that.” Sabrina hopped toward the kitchen while pulling off her other shoe. Before she got there, the box moved again, and a little terrier shot out between the box and the cabinet.
It ran up to Leith and stopped, looking up at him, head tilted. A furry toy dangled from its mouth. Most dogs, especially terriers, would have been barking up a storm at a stranger in the house, but this one just studied him. “Hi, there.” Leith squatted down and reached out a hand.
The dog sniffed his hand and started wagging its tail. Cute dog. It almost looked like one of Emma’s toys. Just the sort of dog he would expect Sabrina to choose. Leith scratched under its chin and looked at her. “So, you got a dog after all.”
“No, he’s not mine.” Sabrina came to run her hand over the dog’s head. “Or rather, he came into my possession by accident, but I can’t keep him. I’ll be taking him to a shelter soon.”
The toy in the dog’s mouth looked brand-new, as did the collar he wore. He wagged his tail at Sabrina and dropped the toy into her hand. She threw it across the room for him to chase.
“What do you mean, he came into your possession by accident?” Leith accepted the toy from the dog and threw it again.
Sabrina explained about an argument in a parking lot. As he listened, Leith stopped playing with the dog and straightened to stare at her. “The man came at you with a tire iron? Good grief, Sabrina. What were you thinking?”
“I couldn’t just let him hurt the dog.”
“So you had to confront him yourself? You could have taken down his license number and called the police.”
“Yeah, I’m sure they’d have dropped all their cases looking for stolen cars and drug dealers to chase down a guy who kicked a dog.”
She was probably right, but still, how could she put herself at risk like that? “You could have been killed.”
She shook her head. “I don’t think so. He was staggering around like he’d been drinking. I doubt he could have caught me even if he’d tried.”
“What? What if he did catch you?”
“There were other people in the parking lot who probably would have come if I screamed.”
“You’d bet your life on probably?”
“It wasn’t that big of a risk. Look at you. What if a bear decided to eat you when you were out in the woods? It’s possible, right?”
“Sure, it’s possible, but unlikely.”
“Just like this. It’s over now, and the dog is safe. Wait here a minute while I find some better shoes.” She turned and flounced through a door to another room, the little dog at her heels.
Leith took a long breath and willed his heart rate to slow. He wasn’t sure why Sabrina’s story upset him so much. As she said, it was over. It wasn’t as though he’d never been in dangerous situations, but he didn’t dwell on them afterward, except to learn lessons. Maybe that was why. He got the idea that, in the same circumstances, Sabrina would do it all again. And all for a dog she didn’t intend to keep. Allegedly.
He wandered over to look into the kitchen, behind the packing box. A pillow topped with a soft fleece blanket sat in one corner. A no-tip bowl of water, an empty food bowl and a chew toy sat next to it. A rope toy peeked out from under the refrigerator.
Sabrina returned to the living room wearing a more reasonable pair of black shoes with cork wedges. “Better?”
“Perfect.” And he meant it. Her shiny dark hair, her expressive eyes, the dress—she looked like she should be on a magazine cover. And yet she’d stood up to a bully with a tire iron. There was more to Sabrina than met the eye, although what met the eye was rather spectacular.
“Here, let me fix your tie.” She stepped up and reached for the knot.
“I tried to tie it from an internet video, but it’s harder than it looks.”
“Video, huh?” She laughed and retied the tie, deftly flipping the ends around each other and pulling them through. “This is a Windsor knot. It was probably named after the Duke of Windsor because he preferred a wide knot in his ties. It works best with a spread collar like yours.”
“I didn’t know there was more than one way to tie a tie,” Leith admitted.
“Four-in-hand. Half Windsor. Probably more I don’t know about. I worked in the menswear department for a while during college.” Sabrina snugged the knot up against his shirt and straightened his collar. “Take a look.”
He checked his tie in the mirror. A perfectly triangular knot filled the space under his collar. “Nice. And you said you didn’t know how to tie a bowline.”
“Until you taught me, I didn’t even know there was such a thing as a bowline. But now I can tie a tent line like an expert.” She picked up the dog, whispered a few loving words and put him into the kitchen, pushing the box back into place. “I don’t know why I bother. When I used a smaller box, he jumped over it. He can’t jump this one, but he can apparently move it by bouncing against it.”
“Does he get into trouble while you’re gone?”
“Not really. He’s housebroken. He dug in the trash once but hasn’t damaged anything.”
“There’s not a lot here to damage.” As the words left Leith’s mouth, he realized how rude that sounded. “I mean, if he gets out, it’s probably okay.”
“Yeah,” she said, and grinned. “I know. I don’t usually go with minimalist decor, but I could only bring what would fit in my car, so I sold all my furniture before I came.”
“Didn’t Orson’s give you a moving allowance?”
She grimaced. “They did, but unfortunately, most of that went toward a new transmission so my car would make it up the highway.”
“Wasn’t the car covered under warranty?”
She laughed. “Not since I’ve owned it.”
“Transmissions are usually good for a hundred thousand miles or so.”
“Well, then, I guess mine was overdue. I have a hundred sixty-five on it now.”
“And everyone gives me a hard time over the Land Cruiser. It’s only at one-thirty.” Based on her clothes and her former residence, he’d expected a late-model luxury car. “I’m surprised they allowed you to drive it in Scottsdale.”
She turned to take a key from a bowl on the countertop. “What are you talking about?”
“Your car. I didn’t think they allowed vehicles over three years old in Scottsdale.”
Sabrina crossed her arms and glared at him. “Okay, enough. Number one. I didn’t live in Scottsdale. I worked there. And as it happened, I usually took the light rail in to work, but I doubt anyone noticed or cared how old my car was. Number two—what’s your problem with Scottsdale, anyway? It’s a nice place. Have you ever even been there?”
“Yes, I’ve been there. I lived there, in fact, for three hundred and fifteen days.”
“Three hundred and fifteen?” Sabrina raised her eyebrows. “I suppose you kept track by scratching marks onto the wall of your cell?”
“Something like that.”
“Seriously, you lived in Scottsdale? When?”
An Alaskan Proposal Page 9
