CircleintheSandDraftFinalBarnesNoble

by Owner

  “I’m sorry I hid this from you, Jax. I never wanted to hurt you. I only want you to be happy. You deserve that. You deserve so much more than that…the stars, the moon, the universe.”

  In his arms, melting into him, hearing him talk to me this way, could last me a lifetime. It’s what I always knew I was missing. “Just shut up and kiss me already.”

  “On it,” he whispers, and then wastes no time following my order.

  With a strange mix of familiarity and excitement, his hand slips behind my back, pulling me closer. His other hand goes from under my chin, slides through my hair and to my neck. A chill runs over my body, but is quickly replaced with heat as his lips finally connect with mine. The feeling, like discovering a new world and coming home all at once, overwhelms me and a tear dots the edge of my eye. As if he sensed its presence, Ned’s thumb rubs the tear away while still slowly kissing me. Then he pulls just far enough away to peer into my eyes. He kisses the wetness on the outer edge of my eye, and then pulls me into his embrace. With my head on his chest, I tilt my face up to the night sky, but this time I keep my eyes closed.

  CHAPTER 32 - SAGE

  I wake up in my old room for the first time in almost three years, to silence and the smell of coffee. Standard Douglas household atmosphere. I slept soundly, wafting to sleep on an endless visual loop of Travis kissing me. We are by no means the perfect couple, but now there is clarity and honesty between us. And knowing we both want the same thing is good enough for me for the time being.

  I’d had my reservations about last night, but it couldn’t have gone any better. When we arrived back at Oak Grove, Rose was greeted by a mini-reception of seniors who most likely didn’t want to miss out on their chance to celebrate. She threw surprise and gratitude on her face, but I could see exhaustion lurking beneath. It was a bit of a relief, not having to leave her alone and dealing with the emotions that went with that. I asked her nurse not to let her stay up too much longer.

  Dad convinced me to spend a few days at the house when he heard me mention I’d be taking next week off. I’m determined to find the best homes for the rest of grandmother’s money, including something that has special meaning to me. Plus Christine told me I’d better get some vacation time in before she leaves and I’m swamped.

  My mother appears in the doorway holding a steaming mug. “Good morning,” she says, lifting up the cup. “Can I come in?”

  “Sure.” I sit up in the bed, taking in a strange sense of nostalgia as she parks herself on the edge. This is where we had many hellos and goodbyes in the midst of my mother’s work/travel career.

  “Thank you,” I say, taking the cup. I set it aside on the table next to me where a picture of the four of us still sits with a thin layer of dust. “What happened to Chicago?”

  She reaches out, touches a piece of my hair. “I put it off for a couple of days when I found out you were staying.” Her voice is soft, tender, like the time she told me she was sick.

  “What’s wrong? Are you…?”

  “No, honey. Everything’s fine. I’m fine.”

  “Then why are you here?”

  She shakes her head. “That’s a legitimate question, Sage.” Then she gets up from the bed, pulls up the blinds. “It’s going to be a beautiful day.” She leans up against the window ledge. “I understand that I was never mother of the year. But having you and Sierra…you girls were my two greatest accomplishments.”

  “Mom, you don’t have to do this.”

  She holds up a finger as though her secretary is interrupting her during a meeting. “There were times I convinced myself I was doing it all for you. To give you and Sierra a better life than I had. And when I got sick and was fortunate enough to make it through all that, instead of cherishing my family, I dove deeper into my work.”

  “It was a tough time for you.” I’m surprised that I’m defending her when she’s right about it all.

  “I know you can’t outrun cancer, but I think that’s what I was trying to do. Anyway, I won’t turn this into a pity party. It’s just that I had a chance to talk with Rose a bit last night…. What are you smiling about?”

  “Nothing. She’s really getting around these days. So what did she say?”

  “She said that if cancer didn’t scare me straight, that maybe her death would.”

  My mouth flies open with a gasp. But I’m not sorry she said it. Rose knows she and my mother are one and the same. Maybe that’s why my father picked her.

  “I know,” she says. “We talked about her money too. She said she knew giving Dad and me her money wouldn’t change a thing. She was right, and I told her that we don’t hold it against her.”

  “I’m glad to hear that.”

  “And I do want things to be different between us, Sage. It may take some time, but I’m willing to try.”

  I’m not prepared to bond with her yet, but I do appreciate that she’s come to this conclusion. “Thanks, Mom.” It comes off sounding trite, but it is all I am ready for.

  She comes back to the bed, holds me, runs her hand down my hair. “I love you, sweetheart. Please don’t give up on me.”

  “I love you too.” Over her shoulder I see my dad step into the doorway. “Good morning, Dad.”

  Mother pulls back and turns to face him. “How about breakfast?” Her tone snaps back to normal like an actress on cue. “Should we go out?” My dad doesn’t move, only shakes his head. It’s then that I register the expression on his face. He pulls his glasses off, pinches his nose between his eyes. “What is it, Steven?” my mother asks. But I already know.

  ●●●

  Three days later, we hold grandmother’s funeral—open casket for a packed church. Most of the attendees were complete strangers to me: business associates, friends, relatives, Oak Grove residents that were able to leave the facility. And surprisingly several church members who told me Rose had become a regular attender not too long ago. There is still so much I never got to learn about her. I sit with my family to my left, Travis and my friends to my right.

  During the service, my father speaks, talking mostly about growing up with her as a role model. It sounds more like a victory speech than a eulogy, but no one seems to notice.

  When it’s my turn to talk, I say very little about the woman I knew growing up. Instead I focus on the woman I came to know and love right before her death. Whose honesty, integrity, courage and pure generosity will affect me for the rest of my life. I end by reciting a poem she loved and once read to me:

  “Life” by Charlotte Bronte

  LIFE, believe, is not a dream

  So dark as sages say;

  Oft a little morning rain

  Foretells a pleasant day.

  Sometimes there are clouds of gloom,

  But these are transient all;

  If the shower will make the roses bloom,

  O why lament its fall?

  Rapidly, merrily,

  Life's sunny hours flit by,

  Gratefully, cheerily

  Enjoy them as they fly!

  What though Death at times steps in,

  And calls our Best away?

  What though sorrow seems to win,

  O'er hope, a heavy sway?

  Yet Hope again elastic springs,

  Unconquered, though she fell;

  Still buoyant are her golden wings,

  Still strong to bear us well.

  Manfully, fearlessly,

  The day of trial bear,

  For gloriously, victoriously,

  Can courage quell despair!

  After it’s over, I tell my family I need one more moment alone with my grandmother. Travis waits off to the side. I worried I’d be afraid to see her this way, but I’m not. She’s peaceful, healthier-looking than her last days. I want to touch her, hug her. Instead I place my hand on the casket and whisper, “I love you.” Then I gasp. “Oh, no!” I can’t believe I hadn’t noticed this before.

  Travis is by my side now. “What’s wrong?”


  “Her necklace.” I regard her once again. The blouse my parents chose is low enough that I can clearly she has nothing around her neck. “She’s not wearing it. The sapphire one my grandfather gave her. She never took it off, and she can’t go without it.” I’m losing it over this, tears ready to flow. “Can you get my dad?”

  Travis rounds up my father who says he doesn’t remember seeing it, but will call over to Oak Grove. Minutes later they report that it’s not in any of the spots we’ve asked them to check. They agree to continue looking, searching the rest of the room. My father is itching to keep the schedule and thinks I’m overreacting. In a rare display of sympathy, my sister Sierra and my mother come to my rescue. Sierra talks to my father, while my mother attempts to comfort me. Dad eventually asks that we continue on to the cemetery, and if it’s found, we’ll figure something out.

  As we arrive to the burial location, Travis wraps his arm around my waist. He guides me to the spot. Then another horrible thought pierces my brain. “Oh my God, Travis. What if she lost her necklace at the beach on her birthday? Do you remember seeing it?”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t remember at all,” he says. “I was so worried about her falling in the water or hurting her when I was carrying her that I didn’t pay attention to much else.”

  I bet everyone thinks I’m overreacting to this. But I know how much that necklace meant to her, and if it got lost in the ocean or on the beach, I won’t be able to handle that. Travis holds me, tells me to try not to worry. I could so easily close my eyes and forget the world, but I have no choice when I see my father walk up.

  “I’m sorry, Sage. They didn’t find it. We better get started,” he says buttoning his coat. He walks away, and I realize he has yet to shed a tear.

  The rest of the day and night are a blur to me. I can’t get over the sense that I’ve somehow let Rose down. Back at the house, I plaster on a smile as guests eat, drink, and compliment my parents on their beautiful home. The house is warmer than usual with all the people—the smell of an abundance of food filling it as well. It would be almost pleasant if I wasn’t so drained. Grandmother would have liked it.

  After a while, Travis and I sneak back to my bedroom. I lie on the bed and let him rummage around. He seems so fascinated with the artifacts of the young Sage Douglas. I let him do whatever he wants. I watch as he scans through a few photo albums. Then he pulls out some boxes from the closet, each time asking if it’s okay.

  I love the visual of him in my room. It’s so natural, so perfect. He scans a yearbook I hadn’t remembered I left, but to me he is reading a story to our small child.

  “Wow, what a hottie,” he says, when he finds my picture, making me blush.

  He finds a basket of my stuffed animals and asks me the name of each one. He holds up a baby sheep, but to me he is holding our newborn. I laugh at myself, and Travis says, “What?”

  All of this emotionally sappy daydreaming must be from the overwhelming day, or week, or months. But I wouldn’t change that. “Nothing. It’s just nice seeing you here.”

  We are in there for so long, day is pulled away by night, and he finally kisses me good bye. When all the guests have left, Sierra comes and gets in bed with me the way she used to when she was little. We talk a while about school and life, about grandmother, and before long we’re both asleep.

  ●●●

  The next day, grandmother’s lawyer shows up at the house as we are cleaning up the breakfast dishes. He follows my father into the living room as my mother opens the blinds, filling the room with radiant light. It’s another beautifully clear morning.

  I’m surprised to see him. I have control over Rose’s money, and I still have some to give away, but we didn’t have any meetings set up. “Hello, Mr. Richards. It’s nice to see you.” He’s dressed much more casually in jeans and a polo shirt than when I saw him in his office. He’s holding a large, brown briefcase in one hand and a file in the other.

  My father introduces him to Sierra, who smiles and nods, while my mother reaches out for his hand. “How are you, Bill?”

  “Can I get you something to drink?” my father says. “Coffee?”

  “No, thank you. This should be fairly quick.”

  My father directs him to the couch and takes the seat next to him. Sierra and I sit on the couch across from them. My mother plants herself on the arm next to my dad.

  “As I said on the phone, even though Ms. Douglas has control of Rose’s financial assets, there were a few additional assets that need to be dispersed as indicated in her will.” He opens the file and studies it for a moment.

  I’m somewhat surprised by this even though it makes sense. I hadn’t even considered a will since the money wasn’t an issue.

  Bill turns to my father. “Rose indicated that you have stored some of her possessions, including a 2008 Mercedes sl500.”

  My father nods with a slight smile. “Yes, that’s correct.”

  “Well, it’s Rose’s wish that the car go to Sierra.” He turns to my sister, who is clearly torn between the appropriate reaction and jumping up and running like she just got called down for The Price is Right.

  “Oh, my gosh,” she says, glancing at my father. “Is that okay?”

  “It’s what she wanted, sweetheart,” he says.

  Bill continues, “The other items—two paintings, a set of china, miscellaneous pieces of jewelry, etcetera, etcetera…here’s a detailed list, as well as a few bonds that were not cashed in—are for you and your wife.” He hands the paper to my dad.

  “I have a few final papers to go over and that should wrap things up. But feel free to contact me at any time should any questions arise.”

  “Wait,” Sierra says with concern in her voice. “What about Sage?”

  Everyone pans to me. I’m not feeling left out. I don’t want any pity. “It’s okay, really. I didn’t expect anything. Grandmother and I understood each other and the money…the privilege, no the honor, she has given me…that’s enough for me.”

  My parents exchange proud glances, ones I don’t remember seeing in a long time. Maybe that’s what grandmother has left me.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” Bill says. “There is one last thing.” He opens his brief case, reaches in and gently pulls the item out.

  It takes me a second to recognize what it is. A smile materializes on my face. I rise and take the wooden box in my hands, staring at the top. I run my hands over the exquisite rose.

  “What is it?” my mother asks.

  “It’s a keepsake box that Travis made for her.”

  “Oh, it’s beautiful,” she says.

  “Wow, Sage, a man with skilled hands. How nice for you,” Sierra says.

  My mother and I fling our disapproving expressions her way. But I’m immediately drawn back to the box. It leaves me speechless. I couldn’t be happier that Rose wanted to leave this for me. Until I lift the lid. That’s when my heart sinks. My eyes sting and pool with water. The shine of the platinum gold chain catches my eye first. I grasp the chain between two fingers, drawing it up and out of the box, the sapphire charm hanging at the end. I set the box on the table, and then lay the charm across my palm to study its brilliance.

  “It’s Rose’s necklace,” my mother says.

  Sierra and my father stand. “Is that the one your dad gave to her?” Sierra asks my father.

  “Yes,” he says. “I guess we know why we couldn’t find it for the service.”

  I hand the necklace to my mother. “Will you, please?”

  She takes it from my hands and places it around my neck, clasping it in the back. I turn to face her, my fingers reaching for it. “It’s beautiful on you,” she says. I see her eyes blur with tears.

  This is the most precious gift I’ve received in my life, and its presence alone will not only give me the strength my grandmother lived her life with, but also the love we ultimately shared.

  EPILOGUE - NED

  “Holy crap, that hurts!” Sage yells to Jax, who
’s sitting next to her, holding back a smirk. “He’s sticking me with a needle!”

  As I sit in the back pretending not to enjoy it, I can’t believe Sage is going through with this.

  Jax shrugs. “You’re doing great.”

  Sage gives two overly enthusiastic thumbs up. “Did all of your tattoos hurt this much?” she says.

  “Not really. Mine were sprinkled on with fairy dust.” Jax says. Then she looks over at me and gives me that heart-melting smile. It’s the same one she used when she talked me into being their chauffeur for the day.

  “Very funny,” Sage says.

  “Believe me,” Jax says. “When Travis sees that, he’ll relieve some of that pain for you.”

  “Really?” Sage says. It wasn’t the purpose of the tattoo, but I’d guess that is an added bonus. She seems to be insanely wild for the ex-con. I guess he’s proving to be a decent enough guy. For now. “So, yours gets Ned a little…worked up?” she says.

  “Let’s just say he gives them a lot of special attention. Sometimes when we’re in bed, he…”

  “Hey, I’m right here,” I say. But secretly, my pride just went into overdrive.

  The tattoo artist, Hank, looks away from his work, giving me an appreciative smile and head nod.

  “Geez, TMI, Jax,” Sage says. “What time is it?”

  “It’s only eleven fifteen,” she says. “We’ll make it. And we have most of the day. I have to be at the bar by six.”

  I love that I can read every facial expression Jax has, every nuance in her eyes and her smile. Even from back here, I can see the mere thought of her new job gets her excited. I wouldn’t have thought when she took the job two weeks ago that managing the bar would make her feel this damn good.