Book Read Free

Family for Keeps & Sadie's Hero

Page 23

by Margaret Daley


  He released her hands and shifted away from her. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. I just warned you about me and then I turn around and ask such a personal question. Our—acquaintance doesn’t warrant that.”

  Acquaintance, not relationship or even friendship. Closing her eyes for a few seconds, she could almost imagine the smell of the fire that had torn his life in two. He deserved an answer. She sucked in a deep breath of moisture-laden air and said, “I grew up in a home with both parents, but it was difficult being raised by a father who demanded perfection from me and my mother. I could never do anything to please him. I tried. I really did.” Tears stung her eyes. She choked back the lump of emotions rising in her throat. She’d never told anyone else that, and surprisingly it felt right.

  The stillness magnified the importance of what had happened. His expression showed disquieting astonishment, as if he couldn’t quite believe they both had ignored years of holding secrets to reveal something of themselves.

  Andrew drew her against him. “I propose no more journeys into the past. I know you didn’t come on this date to relive bad memories. I certainly didn’t. We look forward from here on out.”

  Listening to the steady beat of his heart soothed her tattered nerves. “Sounds like a deal to me. Where do we go from here?”

  “I was going to show you Tom’s house, but that’s the past. Are you sleepy?”

  She shook her head, leaning to look into his face. The gray light of dawn fingered across the eastern sky, declaring a new day.

  “Neither am I.” A smile graced his mouth. “I know a café not far from here that serves wonderful beignets and coffee New Orleans style. They used to make the best beignets in these parts. Do you think you’re up for that?”

  “Are you kidding? You can’t come to New Orleans and not sample one, and some chicory coffee, too.”

  It was a fifteen-minute drive to the small café. Its gray exterior with broken pieces of wood in the railing of the porch proclaimed it had seen better days. But inside, the place was spotless, the chrome shined and the wood polished. Sadie noticed the café was already crowded, and the sun had just risen. Sliding into a booth across from Andrew, she looked out the picture window at the golden light spreading rapidly across the landscape. Through the branches of the large live oak tree with Spanish moss draped on its limbs, the sun illuminated the sky in streaks of orange, rose and yellow.

  She stifled a yawn. “I know I’m going to regret this. I haven’t stayed up all night like this in years—since college when I had to study for my finals.”

  “A cup of chicory coffee ought to keep you up.” Andrew gave their order to the waitress who stopped by the table on the way to the booth next to them. “I think I can remember pulling a few all-nighters back in my college days, even though that seems a lifetime ago.”

  “You’re not that old.” Sadie smiled at the harried waitress as she poured their cups full of the steaming coffee, then rushed away.

  “I sometimes feel older than my thirty-seven years.”

  “Then you should teach high schoolers. They keep me young.”

  “Now I have to say you aren’t that old.”

  “I figure I’ll be saying that when I grow old and gray-headed.” Taking a sip of her brew, Sadie relished the strong flavor that indeed would help keep her awake.

  The waitress slapped the plates of beignets on the table and hurried to another booth. The bell over the door chimed as more customers came into the café. The smell of coffee and fried food infused the air while the sounds of different conversations floated to Sadie.

  She allowed her beignet to cool for a minute, then gingerly picked it up between her thumb and forefinger. She took a breath, and white confectioners’ sugar flew everywhere.

  “Oh, my, you should have warned me,” she said with a laugh, noticing the powder adorning the black shirt she’d borrowed from Ruth.

  “And miss the initiation?” Andrew raised a brow as he carefully took a bite of his beignet.

  After tucking a napkin into her shirt like a bib, Sadie savored the sweet taste of her food between sips of coffee. The tastes complemented each other, making this New Orleans breakfast an experience she would remember. But she knew the main reason she would remember and relish this trip was the man sitting across from her.

  When she’d finished three beignets, he asked, “Want any more?”

  She shook her head.

  He reached across the table and brushed the side of her cheek with his napkin. “You still had some sugar there. I think in the short time I’ve known you I’ve had more breakfasts than in all of last year.”

  Sadie glanced at her empty plate with a dusting of white all over it. “I don’t think we should classify this as a true breakfast, or the one I fixed you last weekend. One day I’ll prepare you what I consider a true breakfast.” The second she extended the invitation she wished she could retract it. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from making the situation any worse.

  His gaze captured hers. “I just might have to take you up on that when my life settles down.”

  “After the fight for the presidency?”

  “Yes.”

  “You think your life will be simpler then?”

  “I hope so.”

  “That doesn’t sound like a man eager to take on more.”

  “I’m a man eager to move on to the next challenge.”

  “And work is the only challenge you see?”

  His jaw clenched, a nerve in his cheek twitching. “Yes—and that’s the way I like it.”

  He might as well be wearing an off-limits sign around his neck. Sadie finished the last sip of coffee. “I find my work a challenge, but I like to balance it with other things. I enjoy my church and coaching Special Olympics.” She lifted her arm to glance at her watch. “Speaking of church, when does it start? I don’t want to hold up Ruth and Darrell.”

  Andrew tossed some money on the table. “I’m not sure, so we’d better go. I don’t want to hold them up, either. I’ve faced Ruth’s wrath before, and it’s an experience I would like to forgo.”

  The quaint small church, freshly painted white with forest green trim, sat nestled among live oaks, tall pines and magnolia trees. As soon as Darrell pulled into the parking lot at the side of the building, Sadie felt waves of tension emanating from Andrew, who was next to her in the back seat.

  Carrie leaped from the car while Darrell and Ruth gathered up their belongings and followed their daughter. Andrew remained in the back seat, the taut set of his shoulders and his fisted hands indicating something was terribly wrong.

  Sadie slipped her hand over his clenched one. “Want to tell me about it?”

  “Tom was the pastor of this church. I attended it when I was young.”

  “And you haven’t been back?”

  “Could never bring myself to. I don’t think I can go inside.”

  “Do you want me to sit with you?”

  “No.” His answer was clipped, said through clamped teeth. He sucked in a deep breath, held it for a moment then released it slowly. “No, it’s about time I put the past behind me.”

  Sadie laced her fingers through his and walked beside him up the stairs and into the church. Everyone was standing and singing the opening hymn, the rafters of the sanctuary vibrating with the sweet tones of “Amazing Grace.” Immediately Sadie felt at ease, as though she’d come home.

  The inside was simply decorated. The most ornate aspect was the eight stained-glass windows depicting scenes from the Old Testament. Light poured in through the floor-to-ceiling windows and danced on the polished wooden floor. Lemon wax and various perfumes scented the air. Sadie scanned the church for the Madisons.

  Andrew’s grip on her hand tightened as the organ swelled for the final notes of the song. Sadie slanted a look toward him and noticed the tense set to his expression, the taut line of his body and wondered if he would stay. Indecision played across his features.

  The hymn ended, and
the congregation began to sit. Sadie spied Darrell and motioned to Andrew. He again fortified himself with a bracing breath and moved down the center aisle toward the middle. Her heart ached with what Andrew must be going through. Wrestling with memories was hard, and she suspected he didn’t often do it. To him the past wasn’t something to relive.

  The service flew by. Sadie enjoyed the sermon about overcoming fear. The pastor quoted Isaiah 41:13. “For I the Lord thy God will hold thy right hand, saying unto thee, Fear not; I will help thee.” She felt Andrew’s fingers close about hers. The gentle pressure of his touch through the rest of the sermon brought tears to her eyes. By the time she sang the final hymn, she had herself under control.

  At the end Andrew hung back and let everyone else file out, even Darrell and his family. He told them he would be along in a moment. His friend took one look at Andrew’s expression and nodded.

  Sadie stood beside Andrew, searching for the right words to say. Lord, how do I help him through this?

  When the church was empty, Andrew sank down onto the pew, his shoulders hunched, his head drooping. Sadie reached out to lay her hand on him, but didn’t. She didn’t have the right to intrude, and yet she realized she wished she did. Instead, she dropped her arm to her side and bowed her head. Heavenly Father, give me the insight I need. He is hurting, and I want to be there for him.

  The silence of the church echoed through Sadie’s mind. In the distance she heard the murmurs of the congregation just outside the open double doors. The cool autumn breeze blew in, carrying with it the hint of moisture and honeysuckle. She waited, still not sure what she could do to ease Andrew’s burden.

  He lifted his head and stared at the altar. “I should have come back before this.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “I didn’t know if I could handle it. Now I know I can.” His gaze swung to hers. “I can put my past behind me, where it belongs, once and for all. I’ve let it control me more than I thought. Now it won’t.”

  The tone and finality of his words took her by surprise.

  “I should be angry at Darrell and Ruth. They didn’t tell me they went to this church.”

  “Perhaps they didn’t realize how much it affected you.”

  “We went to high school together. They knew.”

  “Then they thought it was time you dealt with what happened to Tom.”

  “Death is what happened to Tom. It’s that simple.”

  “Is it?”

  “I learned early not to care too much.” Anger, suppressed but under the surface, sounded in his voice as he fought to erase any emotion in his expression.

  “Then why did it bother you to come back here?” she asked, realizing she was intruding on his private life.

  “Memories.” His grin was lopsided, self-mocking. “I guess I’m mortal, like everyone else. Until Darrell pulled up to this church, I didn’t realize just how much it would affect me. Now that I think about it, I probably wouldn’t have said anything to him at the house. I would have shrugged and thought it wasn’t a big deal.”

  “But it was?”

  His look was sharp. It pierced her. “Yes, it was, but not now. Tom is gone. My family is gone. There’s nothing I can do about those facts. But I can’t let them govern my life.”

  “So they won’t? I wish I could get a handle on my life that easily.”

  “Life moves forward, not backward.”

  The determination in his voice underscored his feelings more than the words he’d spoken. Sadie wished she could separate her past from the present, from the future. But who she was was wrapped up in that past. And the same was true for Andrew. What was going to happen when his past finally caught up with him and he was forced to deal with it?

  “I have goals, plans.”

  “What about God in all those plans? Have you made peace with Him today?”

  “I’m not at war with Him.” Andrew surged to his feet.

  “Then you don’t blame Him for your family and Tom’s deaths?” She rose, standing only a foot from him.

  “I don’t blame Him. I don’t depend on Him, either. God exists. That’s all.”

  “It’s that simple,” Sadie countered, wanting to shake some sense into the man.

  “Simple? Life isn’t simple. Death is, but not life.” Andrew signaled with a wave of his hand for Sadie to step to the center aisle. “Darrell and Ruth will wonder what’s happened to us. We’d better leave.”

  Sadie saw his closed expression and knew he’d shut down his emotions. He was very good at doing that. Coming to New Orleans opened a door on his past that he usually was very successful at keeping locked.

  The breeze from the river ruffled the stray strands of Sadie’s hair, making them dance, enticing her to let down her guard and relish the beautiful day. She loved being on the water. The sounds of a steamboat cutting a path toward a far-off pier and a gull overhead insinuated their way into her mind. She relaxed against the railing…

  “It’s not that difficult, Sadie, to learn to ski. I don’t have all day.” Her father’s words rang above the roar of the motorboat. “This is the last time. If you can’t get up, that’s it.”

  Her limbs ached with fatigue. She squinted and tried to make out the figure of her father, leaning over the side of the boat as he shoved the loose ski toward her. The glare of the sun caused her eyes to burn. She saw the ski slide past her and grabbed for it. She missed, her hand grabbing a fist full of water.

  “Sadie, hurry up. It’s getting late.”

  She swam toward the ski and struggled into it. Her arms shook. Her legs felt as though they were made of rubber. But she would stand up on the skis this time or—She wouldn’t complete the thought. She would just do it. Her father didn’t allow for any option but success. And he didn’t like to waste time obtaining that success.

  The boat darted forward. Her arms jerked straight. She locked her elbows and prayed.

  When she rose out of the water, she wanted to shout her joy. She wobbled. Tensing, she focused all her attention on staying up for longer than a second.

  Minutes later she crashed into the water. Elated that she’d finally gotten up on her skis after only four tries, she was ready to go again. She wanted to fly over the wake like her friend Sally did.

  “We need to head back, Sadie. Come on in.” Her father reached out to help her into the boat.

  She whipped the wet hair out of her eyes and grasped her father’s hand. “I did it!”

  Her father didn’t say a word. All Sadie could remember was the frown carved deep into his tanned features as he hoisted her out of the water….

  The sound of the steamboat’s horn jolted Sadie from her memories. Leaning on the white railing, she watched the people on the pier and tried to compose herself before having to face Andrew.

  He shifted next to her. “You were a million miles away,” he murmured close to her ear.

  “No, just a journey into the past.” She glanced at him and saw the puzzled expression in his eyes. “I guess this is a day for that.”

  “I thought this was your first trip to New Orleans?”

  “It is. But it’s not my first time being on a river.” She hoped her crisp tone conveyed her reluctance to discuss her past. They each had memories they didn’t want to delve too far into.

  “What did you think of this ride?”

  “I could get used to this mode of transportation. It’s slow, relaxing. I like listening to the paddle wheel. Sorta like a waterfall. I could fall asleep listening to it.” She twisted to face him squarely. “I doubt I’ll be very good tomorrow at school. Think we can bottle this sound and play it later on our way home?”

  He smiled. “I’ll check the musical repertoire on the plane. Maybe there’s something that’ll help. But to tell you the truth I don’t even know if it has a sound system.”

  “You don’t?”

  “I’m always working.”

  “The story of your life?”

  Momentarily a dark
storm edged into his expression. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

  “I think we’ve had this discussion about all work and no play. I have no intentions of trying to change you.”

  “You don’t?” Skepticism was evident in his question and the lift of his brow.

  “Nope. You’re a big boy now. If you want to work your life away, that’s your business. Of course, at the end of a day you might ask yourself what you’ll have for it in, say, twenty years.”

  Andrew didn’t reply but turned away as if he were interested in watching the docking process. Sadie thought he was going to ignore what she’d said until he looked at her and declared, “After I get the presidency, I’ll have that time to play.”

  She arched a brow, much as he had a moment before. “You will? You keep saying that. Are you sure you won’t just substitute another goal that will drive you to work even harder?”

  His frown furrowed his brow, his lips compressed into a slash. “I think it’s time for us to leave the boat.”

  He started to walk toward the gangplank. Sadie placed a hand on his arm to halt him. “Forget what I’ve said, Andrew. I don’t want those careless remarks to dampen the rest of the afternoon. I’ve had such a good time so far. The French Quarter was wonderful. Everything I thought it would be. Is it a deal? Next time you can just put your hand over my mouth to stop me from putting my foot in it.”

  The tension eased from his shoulders. He stuck his hand out for her to shake. “That’s a deal I’ll accept. Now let me understand. I can put my hand over your mouth anytime I think you’re going to stick your foot into it?”

  She narrowed her eyes in mock anger. “No. Only when referring to your diligent work habits and nonexistent play—”

  He pressed his hand over her mouth, the rough texture of his palm warm against the softness of her lips. “You were saying?”

  She glared at him and mumbled, “Funny.”

  “I try to be, in rare moments of playfulness.” He hooked his arm through hers and began to lead her toward the gangplank.

  “Then you think I should savor this rare moment?”

 

‹ Prev