“That’s his problem. He should be watching the drum corps, not staring at the grass on the field,” laughed Tracey. “Wait … Huskie Stadium is artificial turf. If he’s waiting for that to grow, he has a different set of problems.”
“Right. I’m certain that’ll solve everything.”
“I already asked him,” she grinned. “He can’t wait!”
“You asked Steve and he agreed?” Sandy’s face made it clear she didn’t believe her.
“He surely did.”
“Well, we’ll see,” Sandy answered. “But I’m telling you, he’ll make us miserable with constant observations. Here’s his favorite: ‘A football field is for football and a concert hall is for music.’”
“We’re going and so is Steve.” Tracey turned to face the barn. “Let’s get to work. Wait,” she said, looking around as if searching for something. “So?”
“So, what?”
“So where is he?”
“I told you. He just shows up when I least expect it. His attendance is better than our students’ attendance.”
“Well, let’s dig into those stacks,” she said walking toward the door with Sandy trotting behind her to catch up. “Maybe he won’t show if he thinks we’re waiting for him, Shadow. So, let’s pretend we don’t care if he shows or not and maybe he will.”
Sandy pulled up the key on her ring and inserted it into the door. “We don’t care.”
“Sure,” Tracey nudged her in the side with her elbow. “Speak for yourself. I want to meet this guy. I make light of it, but I think you’re a bit emotionally challenged right now. I’d really love to know this guy’s intentions.”
The key clicked in the lock and the door creaked open. “It’s not like that,” Sandy replied, as she was about to step inside the barn. “Are you coming?”
A more serious look passed across Tracey’s face. “Let’s think like adults here. Pretend it was your daughter working in this barn and some stranger kept hanging around. Wouldn’t you wonder about his intentions?”
“Tracey, I appreciate your concern. I really do. But I am an adult, and there’s nothing going on here other than cleaning.” She glanced coyly at her friend. “And friendship, maybe.”
“That’s what I mean,” continued Tracey. “I don’t think a man and woman can have a growing friendship and be alone in a deserted barn day after day and not be headed toward disaster. Especially a woman who is struggling with her emotions.”
Sandy ignored her friend’s admonition and disappeared inside. Tracey followed a few feet behind her, looking up and down at the piled of trash and junk.
“You’ve really been working for weeks here?”
Sandy looked crestfallen. “Can’t you tell?”
“I didn’t see it in the beginning,” backpedaled Tracey. “I guess I’m just … shocked … at how much still has to be done. I’m sorry I haven’t been much help. What can I do?”
Sandy explained what she needed done, and Tracy disappeared around a giant mount of blue and black garbage bags to begin work. “I’m a-gonna tell you how it’s gonna be,” sang Tracey. “You’re gonna give your love to me.”
“You’re a choral teacher, Tracey—no singing unless you are on key,” laughed Sandy. She turned around to get her box knife and nearly cried out in surprise. A smiling Sam was just a few feet behind her. He raised his right index finger to his lip.
“Don’t introduce me,” he whispered.
“Why?” she whispered back.
“Why haven’t I been here yet to help?” shouted Tracey from behind her wall of bags. “I have to work a summer job, you know! One of us doesn’t have a lawyer for a husband. We’re common hardworking country folk. That’s why not.”
“I wasn’t aware you had a guest,” Sam whispered. “She won’t understand.”
“I don’t understand, Sam,” Sandy whispered, her back still to Tracey.
“Sandy, please stop. This won’t go well for you,” he responded as he slowly backed up.
“I don’t understand anything about this Sam guy. I’m telling you, he wants something.” Tracey stepped around the bags with her hands on her hips.
Sandy turned to face her glare. She hadn’t seen him? “Tracey,” she said, grabbing her shoulders in an effort to spin her around. “Quick, look over by the door.”
Tracey turned toward the battered entrance. “Why?”
Sandy turned and looked, but Sam was gone.
Chapter 13
Steve ran out of the office building, hopped into his red Ford-150 truck, revved the engine several times, and then headed for the pole barn. With the sound of Three Dog Night blaring from his radio, he tapped the steering wheel with his gold wedding ring, slowed for a red light, tilted his head back, and howled as long and loud as he could. When he stopped, he looked out his open window and spotted an older woman in a plain skirt and brown blouse who had stopped to stare at him and shake her head from the sidewalk not twenty feet away.
“Mrs. Watson!” he shouted, slapping the steering wheel with both hands. He had just finished drafting her will and setting up her trust the week before. “Eli’s coming! Every girl in town had better hide her heart!” Mrs. Watson cocked her head and watched him drive off, looking as though she had just seen a spaceship land on main street.
Two minutes later Steve was running inside the barn door. “Sandy!” he yelled. “Love? Where are you?”
“Steve? I’m back here!” came the muffled voice of his wife, who appeared in body fifty feet away dripping sweat from her face while wiping her hands on the front of her filthy denim jeans.
“You’ll never guess what’s happened!” he exclaimed as he picked her up and spun his wife around in his arms.
“What in the world has gotten into you Steve Richards?” she giggled. “Put me down.”
“Not until you guess,” he teased. “Eli’s coming.”
“Steve, have you lost your mind? Eli who?”
“Better hide your heart, girl!” He spun her a second time. Halfway around Sandy caught a glimpse of Sam standing in a narrow lane between two mountains of refuse. When had he come in?
“Channeling your inner Three Dog Night, are you?” she asked. “So what’s up with you and Tracey these days?” Steve stopped spinning and gave his wife a puzzled look. “Never mind. I’ll tell you later,” continued Sandy. “And why are you so happy?” She strained her neck, but Sam was no longer there. “And put me down please.”
“I’ll tell you why, woman. But I am not putting you down until I do.” He hoisted her up a bit to change position, leaned in until his nose touched hers, and announced, “I just got out of binding arbitration. He awarded us just north of a million bucks!”
Sandy’s eyes widened as she wiggled an arm free to cover her open mouth. “The guy over in Joilet in a wheel chair for life because of a drunk driver? I forgot that was today!”
“That’s the one!” Steve said as he lowered her to the ground. “It’s one of the largest awards in years in this stingy defense-oriented county, too!” He glanced at his watch. “I have to get back to the office and write up a few things and make some calls,” he continued, nearly out of breath from the excitement. He gave her a quick kiss, turned and called over his shoulder. “See you tonight. I love you!”
“Wait!” exclaimed Sandy with both her hands palm-out in front of her like a pair of stop signs. “I want to introduce you to …” She turned to look but Sam was gone. She trotted back to where he had been standing, but the aisle she was sure he had slipped into was empty.
“What?” asked Steve, standing in the doorway.
“Nothing,” she said shaking her head. “I’ll be home in time to get dinner on the table.”
“Don’t worry—I’ll pick up a couple of Aurelio’s pizzas so we can relax and enjoy the evening.”
Once Steve was gone, Sandy crossed her arms and screwed up her face into a deep grimace. “Sam?” No reply. “You did not go out that door, so you are here somewhere. I kn
ow it.”
“He loves you.” She heard his voice before she saw him. He loves you. The words echoed in her head and seemed to be coming from every direction.
He. Loves. You.
After wasting several minutes trying to locate him in amid the mountains of trash, she found him in the usual place—sitting on his folding chair twenty feet from the door.
She folded her arms across her chest and sucked in a deep breath. “This is not funny.”
“It wasn’t meant to be,” replied Sam. “He really does love you.”
“Yes, I know he loves me,” she admitted. “He’s never rude, but he didn’t even say hello. I’m embarrassed.”
“He didn’t see me,” answered Sam.
“He was spinning me around, Sam. If I saw you, so did he.”
“No, you were in front of his eyes, and he only had eyes for you,” he said in nearly a whisper. “He made time to drive over and share his good news with you. That is not always common in couples, you know. He loves you.”
“Why do you keep saying that?” she asked. “We’re married. We have kids. I certainly hope he loves me!”
Sam walked next to Sandy toward the front of the barn. “Lots of men who have kids never love the woman to begin with. Either that, or they fall out of love, or vice versa. But not him. You can see it in his eyes … the way he holds and looks at you. His enthusiasm in sharing his joy with only one person. You. This man adores you.”
“Relationships can be fragile alliances.” She softened her tone. “We are having a tough time right now.” Sandy watched Sam acknowledge that fact with a knowing nod of his head. “Are you married, Sam?”
“I was. It was a long time ago.”
“You’re not very old,” she replied. “It couldn’t have been that long ago. Does she live around here?”
“She died of cancer.”
“Oh my gosh, she must have been so young. I’m sorry, Sam.”
“Me too, and thank you. She’s in a better place.” His voice was calm, steady.
“That’s what they say.”
“You don’t believe in an afterlife?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” began Sandy. “I go to church, well, now and then. Every once in a while, I guess.” His stare made her uncomfortable and she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “Easter—two years ago. Maybe three.”
“So it’s been a while.”
“Are you judging me?”
“Nope.”
Sandy shrugged. “I get it. Noah built an ark. Joshua’s trumpets blew the walls down. Jonah was swallowed by a whale and lived to tell about it. Oh yes, and Jack climbed the beanstalk.” She waved her hand to ward off a small cloud of annoying gnats that had gathered around her head. “They’re all just fairy tales written to encourage us to be good people. No harm in that, I guess.”
Sam’s laughter echoed through the barn. “Jack and the Beanstalk?”
“When you have kids and teach kids, sometimes you get your fairy tales mixed up.”
“I think they’re more than fairy tales.” Sam sat down on his folding chair and crossed his arms. “Tell me more about Steve.”
“Not much to tell,” she replied, leaning back against the wall a few feet away. “He loves living here in Walton Center. He’s a good lawyer. He makes a good living that got a lot better today.” They both smiled. “Between the two of us, we have a comfortable life. We don’t need much.”
“And he dreamed of having a small town practice, a great wife, kids, even a white picket fence, right?” asked Sam. “Money was never a consideration for him. He imagined Walton Center. His dream was you.”
“That’s pretty much spot on. Good guesses,” she replied. “Long before we met, he dreamed of the idea of me, or someone like me, a small town girl. He grew up dating city girls. I guess we all want something different from what we had growing up. Steve grew up on the north side of Chicago, raised by a single mom. He doesn’t remember his father, who walked out on both of them when he was young. He wanted the polar opposite of all that.”
Sam was silent for several seconds deep in thought. “And you?” he began, tilting his head in her direction with his eyes locked on hers. “You wanted something completely different like … California. The west coast. Life on a beach. Wineries, great weather, a college professorship.”
Sandy’s eyes narrowed as he described the life she had always dreamed of, and before he had even finished she had leaned forward off the wall. “You dreamed of being a music professor at the University of Santa Clara. You wanted to greet the sun running on the beach each morning and spend your days teaching woodwinds and instructing the local drum and bugle corps color guard.”
Sandy scrunched her brow and tilted her head to one side. “How do you know all that?”
Sam shook his head. “Not exactly sure. I think you told me once while we were working.”
“No I didn’t.”
Sam sucked in a deep breath and exhaled. “Well, you must have. How else could I know such things?”
Sandy nodded slowly. “I guess now you are the only person who knows besides Tracey, and you walked out without meeting her—which was rude, by the way.”
“Sorry about that. She wasn’t ready to meet me on equal terms.”
“I guess not,” admitted Sandy.
“So Steve pretty much got what he wanted out of life,” continued Sam. “What about you?”
“Look around!” she exclaimed, holding her arms out while she moved in a slow circle gesturing at her summer reality.
“Do you regret your life?”
“How could I say yes? That’s an unfair question,” she complained. “I have two beautiful daughters. As much as I don’t like living in Walton Center, I love my job.” She stared at her dirty palms, pondering her next words. “Now I’m just part of someone else’s dream. Mine won’t ever be fulfilled. I thought I had accepted that… ” Her voice trailed off into silence.
Sam wiggled the fingers of both hands as if he was waving to himself. “Come on,” they urged her, “tell me the rest of it.”
“Steve’s a good man.” She stared into the rafters and began walking as she talked. “A really good man. And a good lawyer. He’s always busy helping people. He’s good for our community. And my daughters, well they are just the two most amazing girls on the planet. Good students, too. They stay busy. Hang around with good kids.” She bent down to tie one of her tennis shoes. “I miss them when we’re apart.” She paused again when she stood up. “Hey, would you like to come for dinner one night? I’d love you to meet my family.” She waited for a response that never came, and turned around to find only an empty chair.
A sudden urge to be with her family washed over her.
Chapter 14
The phone rang a sixth time. Sandy ignored it and carried the groceries inside and placed them on the kitchen island. Only Tracey would let it ring this long.
“Hello, Tracey.”
“Hey, Shadow, how’d you know it wasn’t your tall, dark and handsome stranger calling?”
“Because he just did,” she teased. “Besides, he rings once then hangs up, counts to five, and calls again.”
“What? Are you serious?”
“Heavens no, silly,” laughed Sandy, shifting the phone to her shoulder and holding it in place with a tilted head so she could work on the first bag of groceries. “Have you forgotten you were my maid of honor?”
Tracey exhaled. “You made me nervous there for a minute.”
“Anyway,” continued Sandy, “he doesn’t show any interest in me, at least not in that way. In some kind of weird way I don’t understand, though, I think we’re becoming friends.”
“Just watch your step,” cautioned Tracey. “I’ve said it before. I don’t think a man and a woman can rendezvous in an old barn every day and not get into some kind of relationship. And this guy is a mysterious hot stranger who seems to care about you at a time in your life where you may have some emotional weaknes
s.” She paused before adding, “He could take advantage of you.”
Sandy rolled her eyes as she emptied the second grocery bag, removing a bottle of merlot and studying its ruby color in the light of the window. “Thanks for your concern but I’m not emotionally weak.”
“Are you sure?”
“Did you call for any purpose or just to harass me?”
“Harassment is my specialty,” laughed Tracey. “What’s up tonight?”
Sandy had a corkscrew halfway into the bottle. “Steve was going to bring home some pizza, but I left a little early and decided to cook a nice meal for him and the girls—who may or may not remember me. We’re celebrating! Steve won his big case!”
“I heard!” shouted Tracey so loud Sandy nearly dropped the phone. “It’s all over town. Tell him congratulations!”
“I should have known everyone in town already knew.” Sandy filled a goblet with wine and stuck the cork back in the bottle, shifting the phone back to her left hand. “And yes, I’ll tell him, Tracey. Thanks.”
She hung up and took a large gulp from her glass, washing it around her mouth before swallowing it slowly. If she didn’t love Tracey so much she’d have to kill her.
When the phone rang again Sandy snatched it off the wall. “What now?”
“Huh? Mom?”
“I’m sorry, Emiley, I thought it was Tracey.”
“No problem. May I bring someone home to eat with us tonight?”
“Sure. Who?” asked Sandy.
“Just a boy from school. Just a friend.”
“Does this boy friend he have a name?”
“Mom!” screeched Emiley, “he’s not a boyfriend!”
“I’m just repeating you,” teased Sandy as she took another sip from her glass and began pulling spices down from the cabinet. “Does this boy, who is only a friend, have a name?”
“Bill.”
“Bill Buck?”
“Don’t make a federal case out of it. Geez, Mom.”
“You know, Bill’s a drummer, right?”
The Final Service Page 8
