by Cathy Zane
“And she called him Robbie,” Sarah continued through her sobs, pulling Maggie back from her mental meanderings.
“What?” Maggie asked, trying to catch up.
“The woman who answered the phone. She called him Robbie. I’ve never heard anyone call him Robbie before.”
Maggie didn’t know what to say. Why on earth had Sarah called her? She should have called Kate. Kate was good at this kind of thing. She’d probably say something reassuring. What would be reassuring right now? She didn’t have a clue.
“Are you still there?” Sarah asked.
“Yeah. I’m here. Just still waking up.”
“I’m sorry.” Sarah sounded like she was hyperventilating. “I shouldn’t have called. I know it’s late. I just didn’t know what to do. I feel really shaky and scared, like I’m going crazy or something.”
Maggie continued to feel at a loss for words. She didn’t understand why Sarah was having such a strange reaction to this. Maybe this was some of the pregnancy hormone stuff Kate had talked about. She could call her in the morning and ask—but what should she do now? She felt totally out of her element. Maybe she should just go over there. It might help Sarah to have someone with her.
“Why don’t I come over?”
“No. I can’t ask you to do that.”
“Sure you can,” Maggie said as she crawled out of bed. “I’ll take a quick shower to wake up and then I’ll be right over.”
“Okay,” Sarah choked out. “Thanks.”
Maggie poured a cup of coffee and sat down at the kitchen table with a heavy sigh. She felt incredibly weary, not just from the lack of sleep but also from the emotional drain of supporting Sarah, who had been beside herself the previous night. It had taken her a long time to finally fall asleep. Maggie had dozed after that, but never fully slept. She would give anything to be home in her own bed right about now.
She took a long swig of coffee, closed her eyes, and swallowed slowly, willing her body to relax into the chair. She was sitting quietly with her eyes still closed when she heard a short knock and the sound of the front door opening.
“Hello,” Kate called out from the front hall.
“Hey Kate,” Maggie called back. “I’m in the kitchen.” Relief flooded her body. She was ready to pass the baton.
Kate came in and put her purse down on the counter. “How’s she doing?”
“She’s in the shower. She didn’t go to sleep until about three thirty. She was pretty wiped out.”
“I imagine. Any idea who the woman was?”
Maggie shook her head. “She wasn’t very coherent last night. I was hoping she might be a bit clearer after some sleep.” She lifted up her cup in the direction of the pot on the counter. “Coffee?”
“Sure,” Kate said and helped herself to a cup.
Maggie thought of Lizzy. “Where are the girls?”
“Will took them out for breakfast. He’ll come by when they’re done.”
“That was nice of him.”
“Nice of who?” Sarah asked as she dragged herself into the room.
“Hey, kiddo,” Kate said as she moved to give Sarah a hug. “We were talking about Will. He took the girls out for breakfast.”
Sarah dropped down into a chair at the table. “Oh. That was nice.”
“How ’bout a cup o’ joe?” Maggie asked.
“Okay. That would be good.”
Maggie got up and poured Sarah a cup, then watched as Sarah absentmindedly added cream. She stared into the cup, slowly stirring it with a spoon. Maggie glanced at Kate, but neither of them spoke.
Sarah finally broke the silence. “I feel like I’m in the middle of some horrible nightmare that can’t possibly be happening and at the same time I feel like a complete idiot for not realizing how obvious it all was. All those weekends working. All the reasons why Lizzy and I shouldn’t visit.”
“Sarah, don’t beat yourself up,” Kate said. “You trusted him. You weren’t looking for something like this. Whatever this is.”
Sarah looked up. “Exactly! What is it? Is it a fling? A one-night stand? Or something more? Maybe he’s living a whole separate life like in the movies or something?”
“I say we string him up by his balls,” Maggie said.
“Whoa,” Kate said, shooting Maggie a stern look. “Let’s slow down. It’s probably better to talk to Robert before jumping to any conclusions.” She turned to Sarah. “What exactly did he say last night?”
Sarah frowned. “That’s what’s been bugging me. I was totally caught off guard, but I did manage to ask him who had answered the phone. But he completely ignored the question. As if I hadn’t even asked it.”
“Well, hell, then you just ask him again!” Maggie said. The coffee was kicking in and she felt her sense of outrage swelling.
Kate nodded. “Exactly. You need to get some answers from him before you jump to any conclusions.”
“Right now, I have no desire to talk to him at all,” Sarah said. “Maybe I’ll just wait until he comes home.”
“Are you nuts?!” Maggie shouted—and immediately regretted it.
“Yes,” Sarah said, turning abruptly to Maggie. “I’m completely fucking nuts! Can’t you tell?!”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just, if I were you, I couldn’t stand to wait. I’d want some answers right away.”
“Well you’re not me, are you?”
“No, I’m not.” Maggie felt a little sheepish. She knew she needed to be more sympathetic. Sarah was really stressed and sleep-deprived. Time to keep her mouth shut.
Sarah stared into her coffee. Maggie glanced over at Kate with a guilty look. Kate shrugged and mouthed, “It’s okay.”
After several minutes, Sarah spoke again. “I had another dream about Matt last night,” she said without looking up.
“The college boyfriend?” Maggie asked. “I didn’t know you had a first dream about him.”
Sarah didn’t react; she just kept talking, as if to herself. “This dream was different. In the first one we were married and he was really excited about the baby. This dream was more like reliving all the things we did together.”
“Like what?” Kate asked.
“Just having fun. It was comfortable and easy. Not that we didn’t have disagreements, but we always worked things out pretty well. We were a team. And we had fun.”
“Sounds like a nice relationship,” Maggie said.
“Yeah.” Sarah got up without saying more and went out into the garage.
Kate frowned and looked at Maggie. “Where’s she going?”
“I’m not sure,” Maggie said, “but I think I might have an idea.” She got up and followed Sarah.
“What . . .” Kate said, shaking her head. She had no idea what was going on, so she shut her mouth and headed for the garage. When she walked in, Sarah was up on the counter, moving boxes around on the top shelf.
Kate tilted her head and looked up at Sarah. “What are you doing?”
“Looking for something.”
“That’s kind of obvious,” Maggie said. “Mind cluing us in?”
“Remember me telling you about the letter that I never opened?”
Maggie shook her head. “Yeah. I thought that might be it.”
“I’m a little lost here, guys,” Kate said, but neither Sarah nor Maggie acknowledged her.
Sarah pulled a large box labeled “COLLEGE” out from behind several other boxes. “Here. Help me,” she said to Maggie.
Maggie scooted up onto the counter and helped her pull the box down from the shelf and onto the workbench.
Kate couldn’t figure out what had gotten into Sarah. Or Maggie, for that matter. “Would someone mind telling me what is going on?”
Sarah began opening the box. “When Matt broke up with me I was really hurt and I wrote him a crazy dramatic letter. He was in Africa, so by the time I heard back from him I was already dating Robert. And still pretty pissed at Matt. So I didn’t read it.
I just threw it in this box without opening it.”
“And you’re choosing now to read it? When you suspect your husband is cheating on you?” Kate shook her head. None of this was making sense. What was Sarah thinking?
“He’s showing up in my dreams for some reason. Maybe I’m supposed to read it now.”
“But—”
The doorbell rang—and rang again, and again, cutting Kate off. She heard the sound of the front door slamming, and the patter of feet.
“Mommy! I’m ho-ome!” Lizzy yelled.
“I’ll look for it later,” Sarah said. She quickly closed the box and turned to go back into the house. Kate made it into the kitchen just as Lizzy and Emma ran in. Will sauntered in after them.
Lizzy barreled directly over to Sarah, who knelt down and wrapped her arms around her. “Hi, sweetie. Did you have a good sleepover?”
“Yeah! And we just had waffles!” Lizzy said.
“With whipped cream!” Emma said.
“And strawberries!”
“Sounds very yummy,” Sarah said. “Thanks for taking her to breakfast, Will.”
“My pleasure,” Will said. “We had fun. And I got to hear all about the party. Sounds like a good time was had by all!”
“Thanks to Kate and Maggie. I couldn’t have done it without them!”
Robert glanced out the wall-length sliding glass doors at the sunny beach and gentle waves. He was on his third beer and halfway through the game, but he still couldn’t shake the feelings that had haunted him since Sarah’s call last night. He knew he should call her but couldn’t bring himself to do it. He rationalized that it would be good to give her some time. Maybe she would let it go.
He watched Stephanie walking up from the beach, her tanned body moving gracefully toward him. She hadn’t pushed him more last night about coming clean with Sarah, but he knew where she stood. He appreciated that about her. She was direct. She stated her opinion and then let it go. Nagging was not in her repertoire.
He smiled as she came through the door, beach bag in hand. “How was it?”
“You’re missing some great beach time staying cooped up in here,” she said. “It’s gorgeous out there.”
“Who are you kidding?” Robert muted the TV and waved his beer toward the beach. “I’ve got the best of both worlds. Great views of the beach and the Lakers on TV.”
“You are such a total basketball bum!”
“Look who’s talking, Little Miss Beach Bum.”
“Guilty as charged. It’s my happy place! There’s nothing more relaxing than feeling the sun on my skin and listening to the waves.” She tossed her beach bag on a chair and pulled the scrunchy off her ponytail, letting her dark hair cascade down over her shoulders. “I’m going to take a shower.”
“Sounds good. I just checked Sam’s flight status. He’s due in on time at five thirty.”
“Perfect,” she said as she started toward the bathroom. “We can stop and get fish tacos on the way home. If I know my big brother, he will be craving Mexican food after two weeks in China!”
“Or we could actually go to a Mexican restaurant and have a real meal!” Robert said. He would push for that. He wasn’t a big fan of the taco truck.
“Whatever,” Stephanie said over her shoulder. “I say we let Sam decide. It is his welcome home dinner, after all.”
“Sounds good to me. But he might surprise you and want a nice steak. You better dress accordingly.”
“So, what you’re saying is that I should dress for anything from a taco truck to a five-star restaurant?” she called from the bathroom.
“Exactly.”
“You realize that’s an impossible task, don’t you?”
“Oh, come on. You’re the fashion goddess. I have complete faith in you.”
“Well, I guess that kills the flip-flops idea,” Stephanie said as she closed the bathroom door.
Robert smiled and unmuted the TV.
Chapter 13
Maggie wove her way through the throng of students in the hallway. She’d been avoiding Sarah all day, unsure of what to say. Honestly, she felt a little creeped out by how quickly Sarah’s demeanor had changed yesterday when Will and the girls got back. It was as if nothing had happened. Maggie had left before Kate and Will so she hadn’t gotten a chance to talk to Sarah more, and when she’d tried to call later in the evening there’d been no answer. Now it was the end of the day and she knew she needed to at least make an effort to check in.
She warily walked into Sarah’s classroom as Sarah laid down a paper to wipe her eyes.
“You okay?” Maggie asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just got a little emotional reading these essays.”
“Boy, I know just how you feel,” Maggie said as she sat on top of a student desk in front of Sarah. “I was grading Civil War term papers last night and crying my eyes out.”
Sarah rolled her eyes. “Very funny.” She lifted up the student’s paper she had been reading. “Josie Fischer. She was describing what it feels like when she paints. Sitting with the blank canvas, waiting for the color or shape to show itself. It’s exactly the way my mother used to describe it.”
Maggie’s eyes opened wide. “I didn’t know your mom was a painter.”
Sarah nodded. “It was her passion. But I never knew that until I was in high school. She started telling me a lot of things then. Maybe it was the depression talking. My dad was a mean son of a bitch and I think she felt completely beaten down.”
“So she was too depressed to paint?”
“No, not at all. It was my dad. He wouldn’t let her. Six months after I was born she came home to a bonfire in the backyard. All her canvases, brushes, easels, everything.”
“You’re shitting me! That sounds totally medieval.”
“Tell me about it.”
Maggie was having a hard time imagining anyone doing such a thing. “Why would he do that? What did he have against her painting?”
Sarah shrugged and shook her head. “I tried asking her, but she was pretty vague. Something about my dad thinking it was too expensive and frivolous, and that it took her away from being a housewife and mother.”
“That’s ridiculous! What a jerk!”
“Yeah. No argument there.” Sarah said. She stood up from her desk and began getting ready to leave.
Maggie quietly watched Sarah packing up for a minute and then said, “So, she never painted again?”
Sarah slowly shook her head no.
Sarah could feel Maggie’s eyes on her as she gathered her things. Broaching this subject with her made her self-conscious. Thinking about it always took her down a dark rabbit hole—stirred up her personal demons. It was your fault. You took her away from all that she loved. You know she regretted having you. She could have been happy if it weren’t for you. Suddenly Sarah felt overwhelmed. She had to leave. Focus on something else. Pack up her papers and get away from Maggie.
“No wonder she was depressed,” Maggie said. “How did she handle it?”
Sarah shoved her students’ papers into her bag. “She killed herself. Six weeks after I left for college. That’s how she handled it.”
“Holy shit!” Maggie looked horrified. “Sarah. I’m sorry. You never told me.”
“It’s in the past. I don’t like talking about it.”
“Maybe you should talk about it. That’s a pretty heavy thing.” Maggie paused for a moment and then continued. “And her painting. I may be stating the obvious, but it’s a little like Robert and your writing.”
Sarah felt something break loose inside her. She stopped putting her papers in her bag and turned to face Maggie.
“It’s not at all like that. Robert is not stopping me from writing. I work full time, in case you haven’t noticed. And I have Lizzy. I don’t have time to waste on writing right now.”
“Bullshit! You sound like your father.”
Sarah glared at Maggie. “That’s a horrible thing to say. He was an awful person. I’m
nothing like my father.”
“That’s not what I meant. What I meant is that writing is your passion, just like painting was your mom’s passion! It pisses me off to see you give it up just because of Robert. You can write and still be a mother. That’s no excuse.”
“Being a mother means making sacrifices sometimes. Something you wouldn’t understand.” Sarah felt so shaky. She had to get out of there.
“Maybe a good mother models taking care of herself and doing what she enjoys in life.”
“Oh, so now I’m a bad mother?” Sarah yelled. “Should I add that to the list right after ‘lousy wife’? You know, I really don’t need this from you right now, Maggie. I thought you were my friend.” She grabbed her bag and stormed out the door.
Maggie went to the door and called after her. “Sarah! That’s not what I meant . . .”
Sarah didn’t look back. Maggie was being a total bitch. She was nothing like her father or her mother. Her father was an abusive, controlling asshole and her mother was a spineless wimp. Never standing up for herself. Letting Sarah’s father walk all over her. How could Maggie say such mean things to her? She felt claustrophobic. She couldn’t breathe. Why did she feel so shaky? She rushed through the front door and broke into a run.
Maggie watched Sarah speed walk around the corner at the end of the hall, then slowly walked back to her classroom. She had really done it this time. When would she ever learn to just keep her mouth shut? But then again, how could Sarah not see the connection? It seemed so obvious.
Her cell phone was ringing when she reached the door to her room. She ran to grab it and answered without bothering to see who was calling.
“Well hey there, gorgeous!” a voice greeted her. It was Ryan. Maggie felt her body immediately relax and her mood brighten.
“Well hey there to you! What a nice surprise.” She hadn’t expected to hear from him until their date later in the week.
“Are you up for some spontaneity?” he asked.
“Well, that depends. What did you have in mind?”
“Well, unfortunately nothing all that exciting! But I just dropped some documents off down the street from you and have about an hour before I need to be back. Want to grab a quick beer at the Rusty Hub?”
