Brini, you didn’t get a reputation as Cadence Corner’s golden girl just because you broke through the glass ceiling in a profession dominated by good ol’ boys like Theo Ward. The more difficulties life threw at you, the more resilient you became. There’s a limit to resilience, as you’ve discovered. You’ve finally met the man who drew out the incredibly soft-hearted, down-to-earth, coney-gobbling woman you’ve tried so hard to keep under wraps — that softness, that give, is what makes you a true star. I’m so proud of you. Not just for finding the magic words but for doing the actual alchemy.
Squishes,
Molls
P.S. Sebastian and I send our love to Gage.
Sabrina closed the browser and powered down her laptop. Giddily altruistic people like Molly had to be proof of intelligent design. Sabrina felt anything but resilient. She definitely didn’t feel like a star.
All she’d done was let a wonderful man fall in love with her.
A man who was magnificent in bed. An honorable man who would do what he had to do for his sister, no matter how painful that was. A man whose priorities were about to change, just like Molly said. She could take Gage’s future and fritter it away while he waited for her to step off the fast track and give him the one thing he wanted the most. One simple thing: children to pass down his name and his legacy. Any other woman could do it and probably would.
She stared mindlessly out the window, barely seeing the people trudging by in the snow. Instead, she was imagining the crestfallen look on Molly’s face if she only knew what was really running through her best friend’s mind. She could stay here in Walden with Gage. She could forever link all of his hopes for their future with the most devastating time of his life just by virtue of her presence by his side. She could lead him to believe that she was what he wanted until he found out otherwise.
Or I can be selfless and let him go.
It wasn’t as though she didn’t have a good excuse for leaving. Fires that had sparked as a result of Theo’s naughty-naughty time with his flame-haired mistress still needed to be put out.
Sabrina hesitated for a long time before she opened the laptop again. She opened the browser and quickly searched for flights out of Des Moines. The last plane to Austin left at seven p.m. That was doable. She’d need to pack and arrange transportation to the airport.
After three cups of espresso, her executive functioning had kicked into high gear, thoughts bolting ahead of her brain’s processing speed only to crash into each other in confusion. She thought of Molly typing away in front of her computer with a smile on her face. Then Sabrina imagined Gage sitting by the side of his sister’s hospital bed. He would take her hand and feel its warmth, blood of his blood if only by half, and feel consoled by the thought that he wouldn’t be the last of the Fitzgerald line.
Leaving didn’t have to be a long, drawn-out affair; all she needed to do was wait for him to come home, sit down beside him, and tell him what she needed to say. She thought of how his shoulders would instinctively stiffen defensively as he retreated into himself and the look of cool, quiet reproach in his eyes. He would regret loving her, and he’d have every right.
Suddenly, Sabrina couldn’t bear the thought of seeing Gage again.
Ever again.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
It’s over and done.
Gage reached for the bundle of roses wrapped in florist’s paper that had ridden shotgun on the way back from Des Moines. He didn’t peg Sabrina as the rose type. She’d probably prefer something more exotic and rare, like chocolate orchids or stargazer lilies. But the hospital gift shop hadn’t had a wide selection of floral arrangements.
As unimaginative as they were, red roses would have to do.
There was no point in dwelling on the events that had transpired that morning. He’d fought the good fight as long as he could, but he’d done the right thing. He’d finally stopped fighting. He’d let Michelle go. The woman he’d read to that morning for the last time had been gone for the past two years, lingering perhaps in the dimension Sabrina had described. Gage didn’t know what emotions he was supposed to be feeling. Relief? Anger? Sadness? He tried to narrow down the list to just one and only felt more confused.
Michelle would want him to just get on with it. He knew that much. His sister would want him to embrace every second and live a big, loud, unpredictable life with a woman who adored him by his side. She would have loved Sabrina.
Regret, he finally decided. That’s exactly what he felt.
As soon as Gage opened the front door, he was overwhelmed by the strident smell of ammonia. He heard the sound of someone humming in the hall. A stout, motherly looking woman in her late fifties emerged carrying an armload of clean linens. She wore a bright pink headband, circa early 1980s, to keep her short, grayish-blond hair from falling into her eyes.
“Gage!” she exclaimed with a smile. “Well, look at you.”
“It’s really nice to see you again, Joanie.” Gage forced a smile.
Joanie was a Walden fixture. For as long as he could remember, she’d been cleaning other people’s houses. Not because she needed the extra money. Joanie actually found sweeping, mopping and polishing things to a high shine an enjoyable pastime.
“I met your young lady, Sabrina,” she said with a wink. “So well-spoken and polite. You did good for yourself. I told my husband that when Gage Fitzgerald finally brought a woman to his hometown it had to be serious — at least Lacey Adams seems to think so.” Joanie chuckled. “Are the two of you going to get married?”
“Ah, we haven’t discussed it.” Gage had forgotten how every residence in Walden seemed to be wired with empty soup cans and kite string.
“Your lady friend, Sabrina, told me the same thing,” Joanie told him. “You’ll have to forgive me for being a little nosy. Folks around here are just happy to see you settle down with someone steady. You deserve happiness after what you’ve been through with Michelle. I told Sabrina as much.”
“Is she here?” Gage asked, looking around.
Joanie looked perplexed. “Goodness, no.”
“Did she say what time she’d be back?”
“Oh, sweetie.” Joanie’s face fell. “You mean she didn’t phone you? Sabrina had to take a flight back to Austin. Mentioned something about a major emergency at work. Howie’s cab company picked her up and drove her into Des Moines. She left a note for you on the desk.”
Suddenly Gage felt like an idiot standing there in front of Joanie with a dozen red roses in his hand. He forced himself to spend a few more minutes of polite conversation before excusing himself so she could get on with her housework.
The guest bedroom had once been a repository for the ridiculous number of suitcases Sabrina had toted to Iowa. Now it was completely empty. He checked the room thoroughly. But there was no stray hair barrette left behind on the desk. No pair of lacey panties accidentally kicked under the bed.
Nothing …
He needed something — even something as simple and elusive as the smell of her perfume lingering in the air — to remind him that she’d really been there, because it all seemed like a long, sweet dream.
A sealed envelope was on the desk. Sabrina had scribbled his name on the front in hasty cursive. Gage tossed the roses on the bed and picked it up, testing its weight in his hand. Weight was no indicator of the contents inside, and he was certain they’d be far heavier.
When a woman wrote a letter like this one, put it in an envelope and sealed it, there was only one thing she had to say.
He sank into the desk chair and looked at the front of the envelope again, studying the decisive slant of the loops in her handwriting. She couldn’t stay with him in Walden indefinitely; she’d never misled him about that. But he could tell when she was trying to avoid getting close to him again, and the proof was right in his hand.
This is it—?
Gage tossed the envelope aside without bothering to open it, struck by an uncanny sense of déjà vu. The night she
turned down his suggestion to try their hand at a relationship burned strong in his memory. She’d run away from him then, and she’d done so without hesitation. Why had he assumed that she wouldn’t do it again?
He could hear Joanie belting out the chorus of an old Fleetwood Mac tune from the laundry room.
Steady. Right.
Sabrina was anything but steady. In a matter of a few hours, she had shown him and the entire town of Walden just how well she could live that particular adjective down.
The roses listed over the side of the bed; their heads drooped to the floor and looked almost dejected. Suddenly, the pain of loss hit Gage full force. Michelle is gone. This was the one day he needed Sabrina the most. He didn’t need her shoulder to cry on. He didn’t even need to talk things out with her. That would come later when the shock had passed.
He simply needed her to be there.
The thought of coming home to her was the only thing that had made his nightmare of a morning bearable.
The scent of roses was flooding the room now, elegant and warm. Moving like a somnambulist, Gage retrieved them from the bed and tossed them in a trash can next to the desk, barely feeling the thorn that pricked the pad of his thumb. He had never felt more alone than he did at that moment. Until a few hours ago, there were only two women in his life, in his whole world, that he loved.
Neither of them was coming back.
**
Sabrina hoped for a light passenger load on the plane given the late hour.
Instead, the seats around her started to fill up with travelers going home after an extended holiday. She pushed her train case into the compartment above her seat, praying that the back of the plane would remain relatively empty. God, she felt miserable. Along with her swollen throat, pressure was building inside of her ears and behind her temples. Her stuffy nose picked up the faint but odious smell of recycled cabin air: coffee, peanuts and jet fuel.
She slumped into her seat, thinking wistful thoughts of hot honeyed tea and Molly’s homemade cream of chicken soup. She gulped down her dread. When Molly found out that she’d bailed on Gage without warning, there was no telling how long the quiet treatment could last. Sabrina shifted anxiously. Everything would be better once she was in flight. She’d be on her way home. Tomorrow she’d fall asleep in her own house in her own bed.
Everything would go back to normal …
A couple charged down the aisle with two children and staked claim to the trio of seats on the opposite side. The female half of the couple wore a faded yellow sweatshirt with “World’s Greatest Mom” on the front. Her hair was pulled up in an untidy ponytail. She attempted to rein in a headstrong toddler who made repeated beelines to the attendants’ area. Her male counterpart was slightly less fashion-challenged in plain jeans and a gray T-shirt. He toted a carrier filled with sleeping baby with one hand. The other held a changing bag the size of a mini-fridge.
Sabrina’s cell phone began to vibrate. Oh, hell, she thought, looking down at the display. Gage. Perspiration broke out on her palms as she accepted the call.
“There’s not a major emergency at the office, is there?” His voice rumbled in her ear. It was a familiar voice. But it seemed as though she hadn’t heard it in years.
“Gage…” Sabrina couldn’t think of a single thing to say that wasn’t a lie.
“I didn’t think so.” He didn’t sound particularly angry. He didn’t sound anything. Sabrina didn’t know how to interpret the tenuous silence that came next. He could have said anything. He’d be justified in calling her out on the lie.
“I’m just calling to make sure you’re okay,” he said after a long silence.
“I’m fine, Gage. I really am. How do you feel?”
“I’ve seen better days.” His voice sounded tired.
“You will again. I promise.” She studied the couple on the other side of the aisle. They were murmuring at each other as they engaged in the business of folding, stuffing and shoving stuff into the overhead compartments. The woman had managed to get the toddler seated and settled, but now the baby was starting to make ominous gurgling noises, a sound that would usher in the mother of all others. Sabrina knew it all too well.
The man shut the compartment with a bang.
“You’re on the plane?” Gage’s voice in her ear brought her back to reality.
“Yes. I think we’re about to take off soon. I left you a letter. Did you read it?”
“I don’t need to, honey.” Sabrina’s heart ached at the weariness in his voice. “You’ve already told me everything without saying a word.”
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
“Yeah, well. About that thing I said on New Year’s night?” His voice was gruff. The rest of his sentence was drowned out by the baby’s loud, jagged squalls.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you.” Sabrina plugged her free ear with a finger.
“I want you to know that I meant what I told you, Sabrina March. Every word. Remember that.”
“Of course I will. Gage?” She heard nothing but dead silence on the other end of the connection. She looked at the display. The call had terminated.
“I’m just glad the stroller fit in the overhead,” the woman told her husband, pulling the toddler onto her lap. Her body language was a study in weary alertness compounded by stress.
“I think he needs to be fed,” suggested her mate, who was pacifying the baby with his little finger. But Sabrina’s ears didn’t deceive her; she still heard a baby crying.
She frowned and peered over the seat, only to discover that the same scenario was being replayed in various rows in front of her. Harried-looking parents corralled and calmed children on laps and in carrier seats.
Could this be her future? She imagined herself on a podium giving Theo’s next introductory speech. Sabrina March, the only Chief of Staff to successfully wear both nursing bra and pearls. Gage stood on the sidelines with an Ergo Bjorn strapped over his black leather duster. A well-behaved child wearing Clayeux knits and polished patent Mary Janes held his hand. The image had the same wishful appeal of a Hollywood motion picture.
It wouldn’t happen.
It could never happen. Because that wasn’t real life.
The engines began to whine, an egregious noise that made her eyes water. Plane rides usually had a soothing effect and Sabrina had been banking on a few hours of shut-eye. She felt too awake. Across the aisle, the man had set up his laptop on the pull-down tray. He paused to pull open a package of animal crackers for the toddler while his wife fed the fussing baby under a nursing shawl.
They made it look so easy, but Sabrina couldn’t begin to imagine such sangfroid. She retrieved her MP3 player and earbuds from her messenger bag and queued up her playlist. The air in the cabin was stifling and dry. Tipping her head back, she concentrated on the music and the weak flow of cool air that blew over her temples.
January 9
Dear Gage,
I’ve told you a little bit about my mother, Nola. Nola told me that from the time I was in preschool I wanted to change the world. I’d forgotten all about this. I always thought it was an acquired trait — one I picked up after my parents’ divorce to make me feel like I had control over something. But that wasn’t true. Politics has always been my passion. Nola didn’t seem to be thrilled. I think she wanted me to be a kindergarten teacher or party planner. Something nice and feminine. But the only thing Nola has ever had to say about my chosen profession is the same thing she used to tell me on the playground: play fair.
Nola got married and because my father had certain ideas about marriage, she stayed home like any good mother should. But like fifty percent of couples she wound up with only me — which is roughly one hundred percent of what kept her marriage together. Don’t get me wrong. This is not a woman in a terminal slump. She’s peached with her life even though it took her a long time to finally get there.
I am my mother’s daughter minus the false start. My world isn’t as big as i
t seems, Gage. I go to work, I go to social functions, and then I come home. Lather, rinse and repeat. Okay, so I have a little bit of a personal life. I watch Lifetime Television for Women like I did tonight (it’s comfort food for the soul). You told me that I might get only one chance to fight the good fight, and lately, I’ve been thinking about how to do that.
So yes, my world is small. But there are far bigger worlds out there that need to be protected.
I can be many things. I can be stubborn, outspoken, tactless, and ambitious to a fault. But there’s one thing I can never be: selfish. I know who I am, Gage. I know who you are. I almost wish I didn’t. But because I do, I know how much I’ll disappoint you. You’d eventually hate me for the years I took from you (Nola says that’s the hardest part to reconcile).
So here is Sabrina doing the right thing. I hereby terminate our relationship. I also release you from your agreement to pay me rent and share my house. Try not to hate me. Love me only as long as you have to. Then let it all go. But trust me, always. Trust me with you. That’s who I’m trying to save.
Sabrina
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Sabrina knew she was back in Texas when she saw passengers standing around the baggage carousels wearing khaki shorts and sandals. She hiked up the long sleeves of her black cotton sweater, wishing she’d thought to check the weather in Austin before she left Iowa.
She stumbled forward to grab her bags from the rotating platform. The suitcases had been heavy to begin with. Now they seem to have expanded in size and width too. Her throat was parched, and her eyes felt gritty. She imagined how the cool sheets of her bed would feel against her cheek. Except that Gage wouldn’t be sleeping beside her. She’d wake up alone.
Something About You (Just Me & You) Page 35
