Let go.
Isaiah walked through the back door to find his parents in the kitchen. His father was at the counter, pouring coffee into two mugs.
“Coffee, son?” he asked.
Isaiah nodded and sat at the table across from his mother. Not that he wanted coffee at this hour. He actually enjoyed their company and would miss them while he was in London.
“Decaf okay?”
“That would be great, Dad.”
Ben placed a mug in front of his wife and another in front of Isaiah before retrieving one for himself.
Isaiah watched his mother wrap both hands around her mug and stare at the contents. Finally, she looked up.
“So you’re really leaving in the morning?”
“I am.” It would be difficult leaving his folks. However, it would be especially hard walking away from Sandra, again.
“I thought—” his mother began, but his father interrupted.
“Don’t, Cecily,” Ben said. “We’ve interfered in his life enough. Our son has his own dreams. We can’t keep forcing ours on him.”
Undeterred, Cecily focused her gaze on Isaiah. “But I thought all the time you spent both at Martine’s and with Sandra might have changed your mind,” she said. “I was thinking we could take the company off the market, and it would stay in the family, after all. After seeing you and Sandra together at Darren Howerton’s victory party, I’d expected you two to announce your engagement tonight. So had Nancy.”
Isaiah’s short stint at their family business had made him think of Martine’s potential. And after the furniture designs he and Sandra had created, Isaiah had indeed entertained the idea of totally revamping the company to produce simple pieces that were both useful and beautiful.
But he couldn’t tell his mother. It would only give her hope, when there was none.
“No,” Isaiah said.
One word that left no room for debate.
Tonight, Sandra had made it clear, despite the wonderful month they’d shared, that she was ready to move on. He had to do the same.
Sandra was his past. His future was in London.
His father put down his coffee mug and reached for his wife’s hand. He looked at Isaiah, his dark brown eyes sad. “I have to admit, I’d also hoped for some kind of announcement from you and Sandra. I saw the way she looks at you, and how your look at her,” he said. “No doubt you two would have been together for years now if I hadn’t interfered. Perhaps by now you’d have even provided your mother and me with a couple of grandkids.”
Isaiah swallowed a lump of emotion rising to his throat. “Don’t, Dad,” he said. “It was a long time ago. Sandra and I have moved on. You should, too.”
Ben nodded. “So what time do you need a lift to the airport in the morning?”
“Sandra is dropping me off.” Isaiah forced a smile. “She still owes me a ride in old man Woolcott’s Chevelle.”
* * *
Despite the cold early-morning temperatures, Sandra found Isaiah and his parents standing on the wraparound porch of their home when she roared up the driveway.
She moved to shut off the Chevelle’s powerful engine, but stopped when she saw Cecily pull her son into one last hug, and Isaiah stride toward the car.
He wore jeans, his leather jacket and a New England Patriots cap on his head. Sandra soaked in every detail. Sleeping without him beside her last night had been a hard preview of the cold, empty nights to come.
She pressed her lips together hard. Once again, she summoned the pride and dignity Octavia Hall had eventually displayed in finally letting her estranged husband go.
Yet as Sandra watched Isaiah toss a leather duffel into the backseat of her newly won car, and slide into the passenger seat, all she wanted to do was beg him to stay.
“Is that it?” She looked away from him, so her face wouldn’t reveal the turmoil of emotions swirling inside her.
“I travel light.”
His words resonated as she backed out of the Jacobses’ driveway and headed in the direction of Boston’s Logan International Airport.
Isaiah was finally off to follow a dream he’d had for over a decade, and she couldn’t hold him back. Asking him to stay in Wintersage for her, for them, wasn’t fair to him.
If she loved him, the best thing she could do for him was what she’d been trying to do since yesterday—just let go.
“I meant what I said in my toast yesterday,” she said. “You’ve been a great friend to me, Isaiah, and I really do wish you all the best. I hope art school is everything you wanted and more.”
He covered the hand she didn’t have on the steering wheel with his larger one, and gently squeezed it. “I hope so, too.”
“Well, what do you think of my new wheels?” Sandra struggled to keep her tone upbeat.
Isaiah leaned forward in the pristine leather passenger’s seat and glanced around the car’s interior. “Sweet,” he said. “So how long before you give her back to your father?”
Sandra blinked, then laughed. “How did you know I planned to return the car to him?”
“Because I know how much you love that old goat,” he said. “I also always understood that this bet was never about winning a car for you.”
No. It hadn’t been, Sandra thought. Isaiah had realized it from the very beginning.
“My plan is to return it to him for his birthday in February. I figure three months is enough time for me to enjoy bragging rights.”
Then she remembered one thing that had gotten lost in the hubbub around yesterday’s dinner. “Thank you for helping me, Isaiah. I couldn’t have pulled it off without you.”
She felt the warmth of his smile. “I just enjoyed spending time together,” he said.
She had, too, Sandra thought. More than she’d even intended.
A sign at the town’s border announcing they were leaving Wintersage caught her attention, and Sandra diverted her gaze from it, hoping to find comfort in the monotony of the road. Instead, a sense of déjà vu came over her.
“Do you remember...” Isaiah began.
Sandra nodded before he could finish. “You taking me for a ride on this road the day you got your driver’s license.”
“I thought about it when I first got back, and then I saw you later that day at The Quarterdeck,” he said.
“I thought about you earlier that day, too,” she confessed. “A memory of the first time we met, in art class, just hit me out of the blue.”
“So what do you think it means?” Isaiah asked.
Stay. Sandra bit down on her tongue to keep the word from escaping.
“Just overactive imaginations, I guess.” She shrugged it off with a casualness she didn’t come close to feeling.
An awkward silence fell over them, belying the easy camaraderie they’d shared during their month-long affair. It continued to haunt them as the airport came into view.
“I can park and come inside,” Sandra offered, although she knew it would be torture watching him walk through Security to a plane and his new life.
Isaiah shook his head. “I think it’d be best if you just drop me off at the curb for Departures.”
Willing the tears pressing against the back of her eyes not to appear, Sandra did as he suggested.
“Here you go.” She put the car in Park at the curb, but kept the engine running. She reached deep to be the friend to him that he’d been to her, and send him off with a smile.
“Goodbye, Isaiah.”
“Goodbye, Sandra.” He leaned across the gearshift, held her face between his palms and brushed an achingly sweet kiss across her lips. “We’ve always been the right couple. You’ve always been the right woman. It’s just never been the right time for us.”
Sandra watched as he retrieved his ba
g from the backseat, walked through the airport’s sliding glass doors and out of her life.
Chapter 17
Isaiah had dreamed of this moment.
From his years at Annapolis through his stint in the navy, he’d fantasized about attending one of the world’s top art schools and having the freedom to paint all day, every day.
“Have a nice flight, sir.” The airline agent checked him in and returned Isaiah’s ticket.
Now the long-held dream was within his reach. All he had to do was go through the airport’s security checkpoint and grab it.
Just go, man.
He followed the silent order, but the closer he got to the line, the more his sure stride faltered. He felt he was moving in slow motion as images of Sandra dogged every step.
The day they’d first met, in art class at Wintersage Academy.
Sitting beside her on a cliff overlooking the ocean as teenagers.
Running headfirst into a goalpost the first time he’d seen her in a cheerleader uniform.
Making love to her against her entryway wall the last time he’d seen her in a cheerleader uniform.
Isaiah’s steps grew even slower as the images continued to bombard him at lightning speed. Only they weren’t just images. They were memories. New ones they’d created together over the past month.
Sandra’s cayenne-infused French toast.
Sandra’s bubbly enthusiasm for her work.
Combining their love of fashion and art to work up sketches of what Martine’s Fine Furnishings could have been.
All were sweet, wonderful memories that had become Isaiah’s daily routine. Just like cooking dinner with her every evening and sharing a bed with her every night.
Isaiah stopped as realization dawned. Just as he’d made new memories the past month, he’d also found a new dream.
He let out a long, labored sigh and tossed his plane ticket in the nearby paper-recycling bin. He sucked in a gulp of fresh air filled with hope for the future, and walked briskly to the rental car counter.
He prayed it wasn’t too late.
* * *
Later that evening, Sandra drove the Chevelle, packed with Janelle, Vicki and as many shopping bags as they could fit into it, back to the Victorian.
After dropping Isaiah off at the airport, all she’d wanted to do was go to her office at Swoon and work until she was too tired to think. Too exhausted to hurt.
However, Janelle and Vicki had refused to take no for an answer and practically dragged her out of the office, insisting she accompany them on a Black Friday shopping trip. She was grateful they had. Their spree had been fun, and it did take her mind off Isaiah. Just for a few hours.
“Will your quit staring at me and keep your eyes on the road?” Vicki yelled from the passenger’s seat.
“I can’t help it,” Sandra insisted, taking in her friend’s newly cropped hair. “You look...”
“Hot!” Janelle chimed in from the backseat. “It’s about time you added a touch of makeup and let go of that schoolmarm bun.”
“It wasn’t a bun. It was a chignon, which was both—”
“Elegant and functional,” Sandra and Janelle said simultaneously, using Vicki’s description of the practical hairstyle.
“Seriously, Vicki, you look adorable,” Sandra said.
Janelle leaned in from the back and stuck her head between the bucket seats. “Sandra’s right. Your new look, combined with these hot new clothes you picked up, will net you more Mr. Rights than you can handle.”
“I only need one.” Vicki’s voice took on a dreamy tone. “Hopefully, today’s haircut, new makeup and clothes will lure him out of hiding.”
Shopping bags rustled on the seat as Janelle sat back. “Sandra had me thinking she’d be the next one of us to marry, but with Isaiah gone, my money’s on you to be the next one walking down the aisle.”
Sandra’s chest tightened at the mention of his name. It would be a long time before it stopped hurting each time she thought of him.
“I didn’t believe it, but you and Isaiah were telling the truth about just being good friends, after all,” Vicki said.
“Friends,” Sandra said softly, trying to block out images of Isaiah, and his last sweet kiss.
“Who’s that?” Vicki asked, as the Victorian came into view.
It was dark out, but the porch light of the house was on.
“I don’t see anyone,” Janelle said.
“Me, either.” Sandra looked down the street and along the sidewalk.
“There’s a man on our porch,” Vicki said.
“In this weather?” Janelle sounded skeptical. “It’s thirty degrees outside.”
Sandra parked the Chevelle in front of the house.
“Over there,” Vicki insisted.
A tall, dark figure emerged from the shadows, and Sandra’s breath caught. She’d know that body anywhere. But it couldn’t be him, she thought. Isaiah had no doubt landed in London by now. She was just imagining things, as she had that night at The Quarterdeck.
Only she hadn’t imagined him at the restaurant.
“It’s Isaiah,” Vicki said as he came into view, confirming it.
“I thought you said he left,” Janelle commented.
Sandra got out of the car as he approached, resisting the urge to meet him halfway and fling her arms around him.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
By now her friends had tumbled out the car and were standing behind her.
“Evening, Janelle, Vicki.” Isaiah greeted them and then turned his attention back to her. “I have a business proposition I’d like to discuss with you.”
“Business?” Sandra asked, disappointed. Her gaze traveled to the sketchbook under his arm.
When she’d realized it really was Isaiah standing on the porch, she’d mistakenly assumed he’d returned for her.
Just her.
Sandra nodded once and inclined her head toward the Victorian. “Let’s go upstairs, and you can tell me all about it.”
Janelle and Vicki, who had both planned to go directly home after they retrieved their cars, followed them inside. Janelle was on the staircase leading to Swoon when Vicki grabbed her by the arm.
“Hey, I wanted to hear what—” Janelle began.
“We’ll be downstairs in Petals if you need us.” Vicki steered her inside the flower shop.
Upstairs, Sandra switched on the track lights and took off her coat. “Can I make you a cup of coffee or something?” she asked. “It was much too cold for you to wait outside.”
“I’m good. I was too anxious to speak with you to sit in a car or wait at my parents’ place.”
Sandra inclined her head toward the armchairs she used when consulting with clients. “So what’s this all about?”
Isaiah declined her offer of a seat. “I have two propositions for you to consider,” he said. “But there’s no pressure for you to make decisions on them right away, just some things I’d like you to think over.”
“Okay.” Now Sandra was curious. Business propositions? What kind of business could he want to discuss with her? Surely he didn’t need an evening gown.
Isaiah held out the sketch pad. “Open it.”
Sandra took it and began flipping through the pages. “It’s the furniture designs we were playing around with the other night.”
She glanced up to see an eager smile spread across his lips. “Turn to the last page.”
Sandra did as he asked, then gasped. “Oh, my God.” She looked from the sketchbook page to Isaiah and back again.
“So what do you think?” he asked.
Sandra stared at the logo painted in watercolor.
“Swoon Couture Home by Martine’s Fine
Furnishings,” she read aloud.
“As I’ve said before, you have a good eye, great taste and we made a fantastic team.”
“B-but how? I mean...” Sandra stammered, trying to absorb it all.
“As of this afternoon, I’m the company’s new president and cocreative director,” he said.
“Cocreative director?”
“I’d like you on board to work by my side as the other creative director.” He glanced around Swoon’s headquarters. “In addition to your duties here, of course.”
“But your art?” Sandra asked.
“I’ll still be creating art, just using a new medium,” Isaiah said.
Much the way she felt about the man in front of her, Sandra fell in love with the idea.
She studied the logo again, and then met Isaiah’s hopeful gaze.
“Do we have a deal?” he asked.
Sandra extended her hand. “Deal.”
He exhaled as he took it. “Now for the other proposition,” he said.
Sandra’s eyes rounded, and she shook her head. “But I’m going to be stretched thin enough designing dresses and now a furniture collection. I simply don’t have time to take on designing anything else.”
“Just hear me out,” Isaiah said. “If you still say you can’t do it, I’ll understand.”
She nodded, although she already knew there weren’t enough hours in the day to take on another design task.
“There’s one last thing I’d like you to design—a life for us as man and wife.” Isaiah reached in his pocket and pulled out an emerald ring surrounded by diamonds, which Sandra had seen on Cecily’s hand. “This ring once belonged to my great-grandmother, then my grandmother and mother. Now I want you to wear it.”
Sandra heard a rustling sound at the closed door.
“Say yes!” Janelle squealed from the other side.
Sandra and Isaiah erupted into laughter.
“Yes,” Sandra said, when their laughter finally subsided.
Isaiah slid the ring on her finger and then pulled her into his arms. “You’ve always been the right girl. Our time is now,” he said. “I love you, Sandra.”
Falling into Forever Page 17
