His brow twisted into a few folds. “Well, yeah. Maggie is no spring picnic when she’s in crisis mode. I thought it was a crank caller. You know, those kids from school have no mercy sometimes. Last year they kept calling and asking if my refrigerator was running. It took forever to find out the culprit. It was that Jay Bassor, by the way. That kid has a death wish with me.”
“Carter!” I interrupted. “You digress. Maggie was freaked out. And?”
“And? She couldn’t even talk. She was breathing in a bag. I could hear all the crinkly noises and things.” His fingers sprawled and danced, mimicking the image. “Very annoying. All she said was she was talking to you one minute and all this noise the next. I left my cart with all my groceries and ran out of the store.”
“You did?”
“Of course. Wouldn’t you have? I mean, if someone called like a maniac and said the same thing about me?”
“Obviously.”
“Okay.” He sat on the space next to me on the bed and stared out the window, raking his hair. “I mean, all these things came to my mind. I was actually sick to my stomach.”
“I’m sorry.” And completely flattered. Never mind the hospital bed, wrecked car, and no diagnosis. Someone was worried. And they weren’t a female best friend, aunt, or prayer group.
He jumped up from the bed. It was hard to move wearing a neck brace. I tried to follow him around my room with my eyes. He was pacing pretty fast by now. “I was thinking so many things, Sarah.” His tone had changed from a few seconds ago.
“I’m fine, Carter. It’s okay. If you feel bad for fixing me up with Randy, I forgive you.”
“Ha, no, that’s not exactly what I was thinking.” He smirked and shook his head.
“What then?”
The roller on the curtain squealed and a man came in. His beard was so thick. Talk about missing grapes that roll from the fridge—I’m pretty certain he had stowaway baked potatoes hunkered down in there. My eyes split attention between his bush and his beady eyes.
“Your x-rays came back clear, Ms. Keller. Let me take this off.” He bent over and removed my neck brace.
I rubbed my throat gently. My head banged with pain.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if you feel worse tomorrow. Whiplash is like exercise—you feel its effect days two and three much worse than the day it happens. Your forehead should heal just fine. See your doctor in about four weeks to remove the stitches.”
Stitches? I touched my forehead. Something sharp poked my finger. It was tender.
“Okay.”
He looked at Carter. “No driving obviously, and I’ll prescribe pain medication. Have her take it as soon as possible. She’s going to be in discomfort for a few days.” He turned his attention to me. “Just lay around and do very little. Your body experienced a lot of trauma.”
I nodded gently. He left and Carter came to help me up. His touch was ginger, and he was very patient as I moved slowly.
After showering, I crawled into bed. Maggie called and said she’d keep Rose overnight. I spoke with her and she was over the moon to be “helping” out with baby Charlie.
“Did you get hurt today, Mommy?” Rose asked.
“I did, sort of. But I’m fine. Carter is taking care of me, and I’ll get you tomorrow.” Lord only knows in what contraption—my bike? Maybe I’d roll her Radio Flyer wagon over and load up her things? I needed to think about a rental car and remember to call in the morning.
“I’m glad he helps you. I could if you come to get me. I know how to make hot chocolate, and I could get the big marshmallows. Just for you, Mommy.”
“Yes, honey. I know, but I’ll be better.”
“Is he putting a washcloth on your head? Rubbing your tummy? That always helps when you do it to me.”
“Well, not exactly. But I’ll be fine. Now be a big girl and have fun with Maggie and Michael. And take extra care of Charlie. He needs you.”
She handed the phone to Maggie, and I was hopefully off her mind just as quickly.
“Get some rest, Sarah. Rose is fine. She asked a million questions after I told her what happened. But hopefully talking to you helped.”
“Thanks, Maggie.”
I got off the phone and stared at the ceiling. I heard Carter out in my kitchen, banging cabinet doors.
“Where the heck is your microwave?” he called out.
“I don’t have one,” I yelled back. And then grabbed my head because the vibrations of my own voice made even the insides of my cheeks hurt.
“How am I supposed to make you something to eat? I only know buttons one thru nine and ‘start.’”
I rolled my eyes and took a deep breath. Poor Carter. He was so trying to be a caregiver at the moment. He even yelled at the pharmacist when they told us it would be a half hour wait. Then he forced me to sit on the green vinyl chair by the rubber tree plant and fed me an energy bar and water through a straw.
I scuffled out to the kitchen, holding my head as though it’d slip off my shoulders if I didn’t. “Carter, what are you doing? I told you I wasn’t that hungry.”
“I know, but I kind of am. And you need your strength. Starve a fever, feed a concussion, they always say.”
“Yeah, I’m not sure that’s how it goes. And what do ‘they’ know anyway? Do we even know who ‘they’ are?” I grabbed a small pot from the cabinet and pointed to the can opener by the toaster. It seemed he had found my soup pantry and selected chicken noodle.
“It’s a committee who knows everything about everything. Now, go lay down. I’ll bring dinner in as soon as this heats up. Which might be some time tomorrow if this cube thing with a strange door uses only sticks and matches.” He pointed to my stove.
“Funny.” I smirked. “Microwaves aren’t the most nutritional when it comes to food preparation. And the kind that only requires microwaves aren’t worth eating.”
“Must’ve missed that in my guide for horticulturists and their sadistic behavior.”
“Okay, I’m going back to bed.” My head throbbed. “Please see when I can take another pain pill. This headache is crashing cymbals in my right temporal lobe.”
“Sure. You go and lay down. I’ve got you covered.”
I must’ve dozed off. When I opened my eyes, I saw a fuzzy image of Carter approaching with a tray. There was grilled cheese and a bowl of soup. I tried to sit up.
“Here, try some. And I checked the bottle of medicine. It says not to give you another one for two hours. So I took one for you. Boy, the room is beginning to spin.”
I looked at him as a mother would look at a bad child. “Carter.”
“Oh, and Liz called. She’s freaking out. I told her to not worry—I had it all under control.”
Liz took a mini-getaway with Harris, her new guy. I was going to refer to him as Mr. Bronze—he had a deep tan that I wondered whether it weren’t from a bottle. He wanted to fly her to Miami for a four-day weekend. She was beyond excited, and slightly dreading the bathing suit thoughts. I tried to think happy thoughts, but my mind trailed to Rose, and how concerned she sounded. Making sure someone was here to take care of me.
“Hey, eat up. I slaved over a hot stove for this junk. I wasn’t even sure skillets toasted bread. Had to search online for the recipe. Then there was a YouTube, and everyone offered comments like don’t butter too much, use this cheese or that. It was downright confusing.”
“For a grilled cheese? How in the world do you make them at home?”
“I toast the bread in the toaster, throw it in the microwave with a piece of cheese between ’em and nuke it for thirty seconds.”
I shook my head. “Carter. Didn’t your mother teach you any techniques for surviving in the kitchen?”
“That reminds me.” He clapped his hands. “Is Rose all right? I didn’t check on her yet.”
I kind of liked the idea he even thought to check on her. It went hand-in-hand with my anxiety about how she had no one besides me in the world. Kind of like I was wi
th Dad.
“She’s fine. I talked to her when Maggie called to check to make sure you weren’t bailing on me to go out on a date.”
“As if.” He rolled his eyes. “I’m waiting until you doze off again before I make my big getaway.”
“No, really. Thanks for staying and taking care of me, Carter. My daughter and I appreciate it.”
“Oh, does she?” His brow lifted.
I closed my eyes, hand still holding on to my spoon of chicken noodle soup. “What have I done?”
“You didn’t do anything. That jerk on his cell phone you were following did it. Don’t worry—he’ll get his day. I hope I see him thumbing it to work one day and I ride by and splash him with a heap of muddy water. I’ll yell out the window and say, ‘That’s for Sarah, you—’”
“Carter! That’s not what I’m talking about. I’ve created the very family I ran away from. What would happen to Rose if something happened to me? She’s got no one. And she’s worried about me. I don’t know which is worse. I went to bed every night when I was young with my first prayer being God would send someone for Dad, just so he wouldn’t be alone.”
“Whoa, wait a minute.” He put up his hand. “Rose has all of us.”
“Yeah, but you’re not exactly ‘family.’” I used air quotes. “I don’t think a court would just hand you her. And what am I saying? Everyone has their own life. You’re still cruising between girls, denying you’re not over Paige…Maggie and Michael are in marriage counseling…and Liz doesn’t know the first thing of being more responsible than carrying protection for her impromptu dates.”
“Gee…I see your point. All of us are pretty lousy choices. I don’t see how you even affiliate yourself and Rose with us.”
I pushed his arm. “Come on, you know what I mean. No one is looking to add a little girl to their agenda.”
“Well, it’s not like you’re leaving any time soon.”
“It could happen, Carter. Today proved it.” I took a bite of the cheese sandwich. “I guess it would be Sam anyway.”
“Bite your tongue. That little French fry, pink-wearing cootie catcher would never leave Calvert. I wouldn’t stand for it. I’d pour myself on the mercy of the court and beg to keep her here. Where we can raise her like a village.”
I laughed. “Yeah, that sounds very Disney of you. But seriously, I need to think about it.”
“Okay, princess, but not tonight. Wait to think paternity tomorrow. Get your wits about you right now.” He scooped a spoonful of soup and made choo-choo noises until I opened my mouth.
I must’ve dozed off from that second pill. When I opened my eyes, Carter was on my bed, looking through my photo albums.
“Hey, what time is it?” I asked.
“Ten o’clock. Hey, is this you?” He showed me a picture of me holding Rose. She must’ve been one and Michael was posing beside me with bunny ears on my head.
“Yeah. Why?” I sneered. “I haven’t changed that much, Carter. Good grief.”
His mouth pulled. “I just wasn’t sure. You all just look…never mind.”
I squinted. “What? What do we look like?”
“Comfy.”
“Comfy? What does that mean? We’ve known each other since fourth grade.”
“That’s cool.” He flipped the page and pretended to be studying the next page. “So, you said the kiss was nice.”
I rolled my eyes. “Not this. Oh my gosh. You took it out of context, Carter. And what were you doing, being so sneaky—hiding out in Liz’s back room?”
“Let’s see…” He stroked his chin. “And I quote, ‘it felt good.’” He swooned dramatically when saying it, batting his eyes and everything.
“Being kissed did feel good, Carter. The motion, er, emotion of being kissed. Having someone bend toward you and then feeling their lips on yours. It could’ve been Mr. Clean springing to life from my cleaner bottle for all I care. It was nice. It’s just a shame who it was, that’s all.”
“Now it’s Mr. Clean, is it? Have you no shame, Sarah?” He grabbed his mouth and snapped the book shut. “Isn’t it rumored he’s with Pine-Sol? Or Pine, as she likes to be referred to?”
Always a clown.
“I’m scared to death Maggie is going to find out. I would tell her if I thought it would do one ounce of good and not a million ounces of harm. They don’t need any more dark clouds hanging over their marriage, and it isn’t like it will ever happen again.”
“As much as I don’t like Michael, I’d never tell. Maggie deserves a lot more than she gets from that jerk.”
“Why do you not like Michael exactly? It’s not like I’ve ever seen him go out of his way to trip you in the halls or poison your salad when we eat over there.”
“Old news. Nothing big.”
“I love old news and nothing big. Big, I hate. Nothing big, I live to hear about. Spill it.” I pushed myself up farther on the bed.
“No, it’s nothing.” He rolled over on his stomach. “It’s just when Paige was having thoughts of leaving me, she said she confided in Michael and he advised her to go and be happy.”
“What? That doesn’t sound like Michael.”
“I think he had a thing for Paige.”
Who didn’t? She paraded around the guys in short skirts and even shorter shirts. Her parents only had one child, and the sun rose and set in Paige’s butt. Whatever she wanted, she got. And Paige wanted a lot.
“I think you’ve spent a lot of time harboring ill feelings for a guy who may or may not have said something to your precious ex-wife.”
“Oh, you said something endearing about her. How sweet.” He mocked me.
“No surprise I never liked Paige. She’s a snot. And I can say that now that you aren’t with her anymore.” Not that I knew them together, and wouldn’t share the sentiment had he asked. “What did you see in her anyway?”
“My future, for one. We moved back here to her hometown so she could run a ranch for disabled kids.”
I nearly choked on the drink I sipped from my straw. “Disabled children? Paige heckled the little girl who was deaf in our school. She made up her own set of sign language and had the girl in tears by Friday of her first week.”
“Paige? Nah, you must be thinking of someone else.”
“Okay. Seeing as I grew up with her, and you knew her for how long?”
“One and a half years, two if being friends with her counted. It took forever for her to commit to being exclusive.”
I huffed. What was so wrong with exclusive? That’s all I wanted in life. And look at me now.
I took a deep breath. “You deserve better.”
“Yeah, well, so do you.” He tossed me a picture of me and Sam. It was our wedding day. Aunt Heidi took it with a disposable camera. He looked happy. Was he happy?
I stared at Carter. “I don’t know where to find happiness. I’ve searched, and I’m beginning to think it’s eluding me. Like I turn down a street, right on its heels, and suddenly it takes a sharp right, and I’m lost again.” I closed my eyes. “But I can’t give up looking, for Rose’s sake. I don’t want her to spend her entire life worrying whether or not I’m happy. If someone is putting cold compresses on my head and rubbing my tummy. And I certainly don’t want to worry about what would happen to her if something happened to me.”
Carter put away the pictures and curled up on the other side of the bed, outside of the blankets. We slept comfortably until the next morning.
“Mommy, is this the castle?” Rose asked, as we walked into the reception for Meg and Tyler’s wedding. It was in the basement of the century-old church in downtown Calvert. It smelled like mildew and potato salad. A banner strung up on the white cinder block walls made it official—bride and groom they’d become.
I only got teary-eyed twice during the wedding vows. All the suffocating baby’s breath tied to the pews, obnoxious hats, and teal bridesmaid’s dress reminded me nothing of my own train wreck of a wedding. But the sentiment was there, and t
hat’s what mattered.
“No, honey. Of course this isn’t the castle. It’s Senior Episcopal Church. After the wedding, we always have a big party.”
This was Rose’s first wedding—my second. I starred in the first one. Hopefully Meg and Tyler would last longer than me and Sam. I tried not to sneer too much during the till death do you part. Yeah, right.
“I thought after you got married, you drove to a castle. And lived happily ever after.” She squeezed her little hands to her face and did the cutest smile. She resembled Sophie a bit.
I tousled her ponytail and fixed the bow on the back of her pink dress. “Oh, if only, Rose.”
Liz bumped me from the back. I turned to see her and her date. He looked Italian. Dark hair, dark eyes, chiseled jawline, and bushy eyebrows. But a good bushy. That would be his identifying name—Mr. Bushy.
“Exactly why did we leave one church to come to another one?” She spoke low, twisted her blue dress, and looked around as though we were the only sane people there.
I leaned in. “Because Tyler is Baptist and Meg is Episcopalian. This way they can have something at each of their own churches. Plus this one has a larger kitchen to prepare the food. At least that’s what Meg said during the last teacher’s meeting.”
Meg was the art teacher. Tyler was the guy she hired to redo the electric in her starter home last year. They were way too cute together. The little “save the date” cards they sent out six months ago had them wearing matching blue outfits. He was sneaking around a tree ready to kiss her, and she had a cheesy surprise look on her face. I tried my best not to heave when I opened it. I loved Meg to death, but really? Are they that much in love? Really…
Rose squeezed my hand and pointed across the room to her little friend. “Mommy, can I go with Shana?”
I checked to make sure Bea was in agreement with the two besties playing while the adults waited in a buffet line that assured no one would make it out alive with a warm piece of turkey. Or pork, or whatever they were serving with gravy. It smelled decent enough. And Meg went with my suggestion and hired a caterer, and not her two sisters, mother, and three aunts. They had enough to do rather than schlep mashed potatoes and roast turkey.
Pursuing Sarah (Sarah Series Book 2) Page 7
