Something About You (Just Me & You)

by Lelaina Landis

  To what—?

  Sabrina stepped into the loading area. The early-morning air was excessively humid. Having grown accustomed to the crisp, dry climate of Iowa, it was difficult for her to breathe. Luckily, cabs were in no short supply. As the car sped down the main boulevard that took her home to Cadence Corners, she stared at the passing storefronts — all of the boutiques, coffee shops, and cafés she frequented. She’d only been gone for a week, but it felt like months.

  She reached into her bag to turn her cell phone off airplane mode. An ominous text message from Molly registered across the face of the device:

  What the HELL? Call me ASAP or your ass is grass.

  Wonderful. Sabrina stuffed the phone back into the bag. She didn’t feel like facing off with Molly right now. Or tomorrow or the day after that. There was one person she wanted to talk to right now. The only person who could help her make sense of herself. The cab slowed down at the light to make the last turn into her neighborhood.

  “Wait,” Sabrina told the driver suddenly. “I’ve changed my mind. Keep driving.”

  The windows of Ella’s Edibles were dark. Her mother was a ridiculously early riser, but Sabrina was sure that two-thirty in the morning was pushing it, especially since the automated sprinkler system was still clattering on the front lawn. It wasn’t her imagination or the fever; the weather was stultifying, far too warm for any of the winter months. It was definitely too balmy to be wearing a thick sweater, jeans and boots. She felt herself busting a sweat as she pulled her bags up the sidewalk.

  Sabrina knocked on the front entrance to the café until a light went on in one of the upstairs windows. Through the door, she could hear a faint creaking noise as the house’s sole occupant made her way down the stairs. Then the windows were flooded with light as the café’s lights came on.

  The door swung open. Nola squinted at her, her face greasy with cold cream.

  “Sabrina, dear, I hate to ask a question you already know the answer to, but do you know what time it is?”

  “I know, Mom.” Sabrina’s voice was hoarse. “I needed to see you. I had to ask you something. It’s important.” She coughed into her sleeve.

  “Oh, good lord. It’s almost three in the morning and I can see from here that you’re as sick as a dog.” Nola opened the door and hustled her inside. “What’s all this?” She looked at the pile of luggage on the porch.

  “I’ve been out of town.” Sabrina hoisted the larger bags through the entryway. “I’m sorry I didn’t let you know.”

  “So that explains why my phone calls went directly to voice mail.” Nola deposited the train case on one of the café tables. “Let’s go upstairs where it’s more comfortable.”

  Sabrina followed her mother up two short flights of stairs, which led to what was once a common area for Grandma Ella’s boarders, along with four smaller rooms that Nola had converted into a main bedroom, two guest rooms, and a study. Sabrina was comforted by her mother’s familiar décor, a subgenre of shabby chic that was a bit too meticulously coordinated. The sofa and loveseat were upholstered in a pink cabbage rose print and adorned with leaf-shaped throw pillows. Vases of freeze-dried flowers tied with large silk ribbons sat on the end tables. An open jar of potpourri was on the coffee table. Sabrina dubbed the décor “floral galore.”

  “I’ll put on some tea,” her mother said, moving toward a small kitchenette where she prepared her own meals.

  Sabrina wanted to collapse behind the small table, but if she sat down she’d soon be sleeping. She leaned against the doorframe instead and watched her mother move around the small area efficiently. Nola reached into various cupboards. Teapot. Cups. Sugar bowl. Box of tea bags — always chamomile after six o’clock. She ran tap water in the pot and put it on the stove. Blue flames licked the burner after a brief tick and hiss.

  “Now,” Nola said. “What question is so pressing that it couldn’t wait until a decent hour?”

  “Did you want to be a mother?” Sabrina asked.

  Her mother looked startled. “Good lord, Sabrina. What brought this on?”

  “I have to know,” Sabrina said with urgency. “Did you?”

  “Your question has a long answer. I need to ease into it.” Nola got two tea bags out of the box. “I remember when you first started in politics. You were so bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. So earnest in your quest to become your own woman. I was a little jealous of you sometimes.”

  “Jealous? Of me?” Sabrina was surprised.

  “I didn’t have the same choices you did, Sabrina. When I was a young woman, no one ever asked me, ‘Do you want to get married?’ or ‘Do you want to have children?’ Men and women got married, and babies came as sure as spring. Doing anything else went against the natural order of things.”

  “Is that a mom way of telling me that I should mind my own business?”

  “No, dear. That’s my way of telling you that I didn’t have a choice in the matter.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Sabrina scoffed. “Everyone has a choice.”

  “You think so, do you?” Nola paused with her hands on her hips. “Your grandmother was a housewife. My brothers — your uncles — married women just like dear mom. My girl friends graduated from high school with one goal in mind: to get married and become mothers themselves. Most of them went directly from their parents’ house to their husband’s house. I met Les at the ripe old age of twenty-five. I was considered a spinster in some circles, and I didn’t want to get stuck with that label for life. Those crazy women’s libbers I saw marching around on campus? Bah! I thought they were rebelling against razors and brassieres. Never underestimate the power of ignorance, Sabrina.”

  “Do you ever wish that you’d done things differently?” Sabrina asked.

  Nola stopped pouring scalding water into a cup and looked vexed. “Do I regret the years I wasted in a loveless marriage? All of them. What I don’t regret is you. You were the only good thing I got out of the deal.”

  “But you deserved so much more, Mom,” Sabrina said. “So did Dad. I never wanted either of you to be unhappy.”

  “Then we’ve somehow managed to raise a well-adjusted, compassionate child in spite of everything,” Nola said. “You don’t turn into some kind of superhuman once you become a parent, Sabrina. Sometimes parents do the wrong things for the right reasons without knowing it, like Les and I did. We thought that by trying to stay together, we were doing the right thing for you. We were wrong.”

  It was obvious all along. Sabrina suddenly thought of all of the things she hadn’t experienced or seen during her childhood. She never saw her father kiss her mother before he went to work. He never took Nola out on date nights. There had been no extended family vacations to Disneyworld or camping trips to the endless blond beaches of the Gulf Coast. Only Friday night dinners at Bella Notte, where everyone used the right utensils and ate in silence.

  How could she have been so blind?

  Her parents had sacrificed a lot for her. Years of their lives.

  “Mom—” Sabrina began.

  “Oh, don’t start up with the pity,” her mother interrupted in a stern voice. “There’s no one to feel sorry for. I finally have the kind of life I always wanted. Les married the woman he loved right from the start. So he and I were a little slow on the draw.” She shrugged. “We must have done something right. Our daughter is Chief of Staff to one of the most prominent legislators in the state. I wouldn’t be surprised at all if you ran for his seat one day. When you do, I’ll tell everyone, ‘I helped create that extraordinary woman’.”

  Tears brimmed in Sabrina’s eyes. “Oh, Mommy.”

  “Goodness. You haven’t called me ‘Mommy’ since you were nine.” For a moment, Nola looked alarmed. Then the sweetest smile Sabrina had ever seen spread across her mother’s face. The next thing she knew, she was enveloped in Nola’s blue jacquard bosom, which smelled like buttercream and Fracas.

  “Did I answer your question?” Nola asked after the hug ended. />
  “Yes.” Sabrina rubbed her runny nose with the sleeve of her sweater. “I’m proud of you too, Mom. You’re a real businesswoman, just like Grandma Ella. You make the best lemon cupcakes in the entire city. You’re Nola.”

  “I get it from you, of course,” her mother said briskly.

  “Me?”

  “Please, Sabrina.” Nola gave her a look as she handed her one of the cups. “Who do you think taught me how to be a self-starter? If you hadn’t been running circles around me right when middle age was staring me down, I’d probably be a serial divorcée. Now drink your tea before it gets cold.”

  Nola shepherded her into the living area, where an air conditioning unit chugged away. Sabrina sank into the couch. The cold air felt good on her brow. So did the warm teacup in her hands. She didn’t know if she’d ever summon up the will to move again.

  “There’s a man,” Sabrina confessed. “Gage.” Simply saying his name aloud made her feel forlorn.

  “I figured as much.” Nola tossed a coaster on the coffee table and looked interested. “Gage from the cell phone?”

  Sabrina nodded miserably. “He’s very tall, and he has dark red hair. I think he’s the most beautiful man alive. He’s from a small town in Iowa. Really small. I would have gone crazy if I’d lived there. He’s a little bit crazy, come to think of it. He makes the most beautiful four-poster beds I’ve ever seen. He loves his sister. He knows exactly what he wants out of life. He’s generous and he’s strong.”

  “I take it you actually love this one.”

  “More than heaven, Mom.”

  Nola sighed. “I was wondering why you looked so terrible — other than being sick, of course. Does he love you back?”

  “He says he does. But I think he loves the woman he thinks I’ll eventually become. Everything moved so fast. What if he expects me to — well—” Sabrina stared into her teacup.

  “Have his children when you feel no calling to be a mother?”

  “Yes.” Sabrina hated hearing it couched so bluntly.

  “Then it’s not really love, is it?” Nola asked gently.

  Sabrina shook her head dutifully in response. Her mother always had a simple answer for everything. But this wasn’t so simple. She loved Gage, loved him in a way that made her feel bright and golden, just like Molly had described. But gold was soft and malleable.

  Gold tarnished.

  “I’m just so tired, Mom.” Sabrina didn’t try to stifle her yawn.

  “It’s no wonder.” He mother gave her a knowing look. “You’ve spent all your life taking care of other people — me, Molly, Theo Ward, and now this man, Gage. Slow down. Take care of yourself for a change.”

  “I’ll try.” Sabrina was blissfully aware that she was sinking further into the sofa and that Nola’s fingers were prying the teacup from her hands. The same hands lifted her legs onto the couch and tugged off her heavy boots.

  Enduring a sore throat and a pounding headache at cruising altitude had been far worse than pulling an all-nighter when the legislators were filibustering on the House floor. Sabrina felt much better once the tension started to leave her body. It felt nice to be taken care of.

  Now she could hear her mother shaking out a throw. Then the soft material blanketed her and the fringe tickled her chin. The lamp was still so bright. She heard a soft click, and then …

  Lights out.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  “Do I smell Eau de Airport?” Carlton asked when Sabrina walked into the Think Tank. He looked dapper in a vintage tweed jacket and slim maroon tie. He sniffed the air delicately. “Why, I believe I do. You look like starched hell, Sabrina. Do you need to borrow my eye drops?”

  “Missed you too, Carlton.” Sabrina croaked and coughed into her hand.

  “Are you sick?” Moira swiveled around from the computer, wild-eyed. “You don’t have the flu or anything contagious, do you?”

  “I honestly haven’t a clue, Moira.” Sabrina tossed her messenger bag onto the desk.

  She looked around her. The room seemed bigger. Then she noticed that the boxes of biodegradable utensils were gone.

  “I could be petty and mention how many chops Theo busted while you were gone — mine included,” Carlton mentioned. “He started getting testy as soon as you left, and he even slept on the couch in his office for a while. Let’s just say the good Hon. Rep. isn’t exactly a morning person. So please do me a favor. The next time you decide to go AWOL, give me time to resign first.”

  Sabrina was resigned to the fact that Theo would be unbearable for the duration of session unless he somehow managed to make things good with Jill, and that was a long shot. She surveyed the overflowing pile of files and envelopes on her desk. It would be a long day and an even longer night. “I do owe both of you an apology,” she told her coworkers sincerely. “I realize that my taking off on such short notice put everyone in a jam.”

  “I hear way too much gum-flapping in there,” Theo called from his office, prompting all three heads to swivel in his direction. “My office, Chief — once you get settled back in.”

  Sabrina looked down the hall and saw his hand waving her into his lair from the doorway. She collected what she needed from her desk and strode down the hall, pausing to fasten the top button of her jacket. She’d borrowed a two-piece dress suit in an inappropriate shade of fuchsia from Nola’s closet because she didn’t have time to swing by her house or even by Café Firenze. Sleep- and caffeine-deprived, Sabrina summoned up her inner fortitude as she prepared for what would no doubt feel like one of the longest days of her life.

  She spent the rest of the morning with Theo, briefing him on the status of his legislation and strategizing his public response should Jill decide she wanted a divorce. Then at noon, she caught up with Violetta over lunch in the cafeteria. Sabrina spent the rest of the day plowing through the staggering amount of paperwork that had accumulated during her absence. There was also a large queue of emails from the Tide Brothers and other construction company owners begging for an update on the tax break bill Theo had filed. Sabrina sighed as she pushed two weeks of junk mail and office furniture catalogues to the side of her desk, along with all of her cherished causes. The overlapping coffee rings on the manila folder containing the omnibus women’s and children’s health services bill she had painstakingly crafted suggested that Theo had used it as a coaster in her absence.

  Sabrina massaged her brow as she read through the emails. Gage was right. It really was all about the money. Her colleagues called it a day at five, but she barely noticed her them filtering out of the office. Theo ducked into the Think Tank on his way out the door.

  “I wanted to congratulate you for making a prudent decision,” he told her. Sabrina noticed that he wore the same smile he wore whenever his bills won by a landslide.

  “Pardon me?” she asked, genuinely confused.

  “The decision to give Big Red the heave-ho. I can only assume that’s why you high-tailed it back. Was it a clean break? Sometimes these things can linger on, if you, ah, know what I mean.” Sabrina actually didn’t, but she was sure that Theo would know all about that.

  “Clean break,” she confirmed.

  “It’s for the best, Chief,” he assured her. “Only met the man once, but I can assure you that he’s the type who’ll try to sway you away from a career with picket fence promises.” Theo chuckled. “Oh, hell, I’ll admit it, Sabrina. I’m one of those men, too — that’s how I can spot ’em. Although I am trying to change. I took your advice.” He clasped his hands in his lap and looked at them humbly. “I scheduled an appointment with a marriage counselor, one of the best in Austin — at least she’s the most expensive. If I ever get back in my wife’s good graces, I’m going to focus on what she really needs.”

  “Help with the kids?” Sabrina asked hopefully.

  Theo looked up, surprised. “No, xeriscaping the yard. We still have St. Augustine.”

  The office emptied out at six on the dot. Sabrina stayed. By nine
p.m., she still hadn’t made a dent in Theo’s email correspondence, and she felt light-headed from hunger. At least she finally had her appetite back, even if it was too late to phone for takeout. Most of her favorite cafés would be closed.

  As soon as she pushed open the heavy glass doors of the ground floor elevator, a blast of cold wind stung her face. Capricious Austin weather, she thought as she walked to the parking garage. If she could decide only one thing that night, that would be enough. Such as what to eat. She wanted something rib-sticking and loaded with a lot of empty calories, either savory or sweet. A coney with tater tots. Strawberry-rhubarb pie. A fried pork tenderloin sandwich. Red Waldorf cake. Creamed corn casserole.

  Creamed corn casserole—?

  Sabrina rubbed her cheeks with her palms. She really had stayed in Iowa too long.

  A strong wind had picked up, propelling her forward. When she was safely inside her car, she retrieved her cell phone from her bag. She had the number to a vegetarian restaurant on the University Drag stored in her contacts list. The display registered one missed call. Sabrina’s heart skipped a beat. Then she noticed the toll-free area code. Probably another sales call.

  It was the worst kind of suffering, sitting there tormenting herself with thoughts of phoning up Gage. Food was forgotten. She craved the sound of his voice. Small talk would do, or a simple “goodnight.” Even listening to his outgoing message would make her feel less alone. She entered Gage’s number in her cell phone. By now, she knew it by heart. Her forefinger quivered over the “Send” command for several seconds before she finally pressed “Delete” and threw the phone in the backseat of the car.

  “You are pathetic, Sabrina March,” she told the reflection in the rearview mirror.

  The best way to shake her addiction to Gage was to go cold turkey, and that meant no calling. No texting. No sending messages through Molly or Sebastian. She’d take it one day at a time until the temptation finally went away. It worked for smokers and alcoholics, didn’t it? Besides, she had made it clear in her letter that she intended to sever contact with him forever. She couldn’t go back on her word. That would only confuse him.