Family for Keeps & Sadie's Hero

by Margaret Daley

  “Funny,” he said, mimicking her tone and look. “We need to hurry if we’re going to make this next stop before it’s too late.”

  She glanced at her watch. “It’s a little early for dinner. Where are we going?”

  “Why do you think I’m going to tell you when I haven’t all afternoon? I like to surprise you.”

  “Did I tell you I hated surprises? I actually open all my Christmas presents ahead of time then rewrap them so no one knows.”

  His laughter filled the air with a richness she could get used to. “I think my family figured it out, though. They don’t bother to wrap them anymore. They just give me mine in a bag with a token amount of tissue to cover the gift.”

  “I can just picture you getting up when everyone else in the family is asleep and sneaking into the living room to open your gifts.”

  “That’s why my parents could never get me to sleep on Christmas Eve. I couldn’t wait for Santa Claus and those presents I didn’t know about. It used to kill me. My curiosity is a horrible burden I must bear.”

  “Somehow that doesn’t surprise me.”

  “Do I note a touch of sarcasm?”

  “Never from my lips.”

  Darrell and Ruth’s driver was waiting for them by the curb. Sadie had a strong suspicion the man knew Andrew’s plans. The driver went about his duties in silence as though Andrew had mapped out everything before they had started. Of course, he had. Andrew wouldn’t know any other way to do it. Spontaneity wasn’t in his vocabulary. She would have to see if she could change that—at least for this one day.

  When they pulled up to a tall building by the Mississippi, Sadie wasn’t sure what to expect. When they arrived at the Top of the Mart, Sadie was charmed by the spectacular view it offered of New Orleans. She saw the wide river winding through the Crescent City, the haze that clung to the horizon. The late afternoon sun was sinking in the west as they were shown to a table. The day’s shadows lengthened over the city as though they were fingers reaching out to all its parts.

  “This is beautiful. What a way to see a place.” Sadie craned to look as far as she could.

  “This is definitely a different perspective of New Orleans than the one a person gets from the French Quarter or the river.”

  “It’s romantic. I didn’t know you had it in you,” she said without thinking, regretting the words the second they were out of her mouth.

  “Ouch, I think.”

  “What I mean is that you are so practical and…” Her voice faded into silence as her gaze found his.

  She looked away, forcing herself to concentrate on the sights of New Orleans at dusk. The yellow-orange western horizon set the sky on fire. Streaks of various shades of red ribboned across the heavens like streamers on a colorful package, enticing her to open it.

  The silence between them lasted until after the waitress took their orders. When Andrew leaned forward, his words returned her attention to his face. “I have to admit that I don’t usually have time to be, as you say, romantic. But in New Orleans I find it easier. This city lends itself to romance.”

  “Yes, it does have a certain flair.”

  “But you are right about me being practical. I’m a businessman first and foremost.”

  She heard the warning in his voice. “Are you saying a businessman can’t be romantic? Is there something you take in college that wipes that from your system?”

  “No, I believe it’s in my genes. You’re right, I can’t speak for other businessmen.”

  His chuckle flowed over her, and she wished again that he would laugh more. Sadie liked the way he relaxed when he smiled. His whole face lit, warming every inch of her. “Being practical doesn’t mean you can’t be romantic. I would say being romantic was very practical. A few romantic gestures can go a long way in a relationship. That can make life much easier, don’t you think?”

  “I’ll keep that in mind when I have time for a relationship.”

  “Ah, yes. Your fight for the presidency. Why do you want to be the president of the company?”

  His eyes widened. He waited until after the waitress had placed their coffee in front of them before answering. “Why not? I’ve done just about everything else I wanted to at IFI. It’s the next logical step.”

  “You sound like a restless man. Never satisfied with what you have.”

  “You make ambition sound like a dirty word.”

  “Are you satisfied?”

  “Yes,” he answered without a thought. “If I weren’t, I wouldn’t be doing what I’m doing. There’s one thing I don’t do. I don’t waste my time.”

  “Has today been a waste?” Sadie couldn’t believe she was asking the question, but often, to her regret, she spoke her mind.

  His probing look snared hers. He brought his cup to his mouth and took a sip, never breaking eye contact with her. “No. Contrary to what you believe, I sometimes do recognize the need to get away from the office.”

  Sadie was the one to look away first. She studied the darkening landscape of New Orleans, which glittered with lights. It reminded her of Christmas, her favorite holiday.

  “In fact, Sadie, I’m grateful that you stayed. I’d forgotten what New Orleans could be like. I’ve enjoyed seeing my birthplace through your eyes.”

  The warmth in his regard robbed her of coherent thought. From across a crowded room, his gaze had a way of drawing her toward him, and suddenly she was frightened by the power this man was beginning to have over her. She had never given another human being that kind of power since she had given up trying to prove herself to her father. She prided herself on being her own person, never depending on anyone for emotional support. But the newfound feelings swirling inside of her were making a mockery of that declaration. Were she and Andrew more alike than she cared to acknowledge? Neither wanted to admit depending on another. But whereas he prided himself on standing totally alone, she sought the Lord’s guidance.

  When they left the restaurant in the French Quarter, Sadie took a deep breath of the cool night air, enhanced with Cajun spices and the scent of the river nearby. “I’m stuffed. That was delicious.”

  Andrew started to guide her toward the limousine waiting by the curb, but she hung back. “I need to walk this dinner off, Andrew. We’re not far from the river. When do we have to be at the airport?”

  “The plane doesn’t have to be back until tomorrow morning.”

  “You mean we could stay out all night,” she whispered as though she were a teenager plotting to foil her parents.

  “I thought you had school tomorrow.”

  “I do, and I suppose after not sleeping much last night I would regret it. But it’s fun to defy the laws of nature every once in a while.”

  Andrew walked to the driver, said a few words to the man, then came back to Sadie. “I told him to take my luggage to the plane and to tell the pilot we’ll be a while longer. We’ll take a cab when the mood strikes us to leave. What do you want to do? It’s your turn to show me what you want.”

  It took a supreme effort for Sadie to keep her mouth from dropping open. “What about your plans?”

  He snapped his fingers. “Erased.”

  “At the stroke of midnight you aren’t going to turn into a pumpkin?”

  “No. And I suspect I require less sleep than you do.”

  She tucked her arm through his, liking the feel of him at her side. “Then let’s walk. I believe I remember that Jackson Square isn’t too far from here.”

  When they arrived at Jackson Square, Sadie surveyed the crowd of people milling about, the artists displaying their work, some musicians entertaining the tourists with the blues. The aroma of various foods vying for dominance saturated the air. The sounds of laughter and conversations wafted to her. “I want something to take back to Cimarron City. Let’s get our portrait drawn.”

  “Together?”

  “Yes, cheaper that way.” Sadie tugged on his arm.

  After negotiating a price for their portrait, An
drew sat slightly behind her and to the right. “I hope this doesn’t take too long. I’m not very good at just sitting,” he whispered into her ear, sending tingles down her neck.

  “Why doesn’t that surprise me? Now be good. This isn’t a painful process.”

  Ten minutes later Sadie had her doubts about that. It was pure torture to be sitting so close to Andrew, breathing in his clean scent, which mingled with the aromas of the river, Cajun spices and flowers in the park. Feeling him along her back and side, she decided this was definitely not a good idea and scooted away from him. His hand clamped on her shoulder and stopped her movement.

  “Sit still. I thought I was the one with the problem,” he whispered. “I don’t want to have to sit here any longer than necessary.”

  Andrew started to remove his hand from her when the young man drawing the portrait said, “No. I like that better. Drape your arm like this.” He came up to them and positioned Andrew’s arm along hers so he cradled her to him, as though they had been friends a long time.

  Okay, so she had made it worse rather than better by trying to put some space between them. She could do this. Surely it wouldn’t last much longer—she hoped. But ten minutes later her nerves were as taut as a stretched rubber band about to snap. She was tired. That had to be the reason for this unusual reaction to Andrew, that and the spell New Orleans had cast on her.

  “There. Done,” the man said, a smile of satisfaction on his young face.

  Sadie was almost afraid to look at the portrait. She knew what she would see, and she was disconcerted when she finally stood and peered at the drawing. The dreamy expression on her face spoke volumes that she wished she could have masked, but she had always been easy to read. A burden she had to bear, she decided as she slanted a glance at Andrew to gauge his reaction.

  He studied the portrait, his brow knitted with a thoughtful expression as if he had just discovered something he wasn’t sure about. She knew that feeling. The portrait before them showed a couple who looked perfect together, a couple who belonged together, two halves of a whole. What had been captured on the canvas in such a short time exposed her to the world, and that bothered her more than she cared to acknowledge. This definitely hadn’t been one of her better ideas. All she wanted Andrew to do was pay the young man, wrap the portrait up and never peer at it again.

  “Do we have time for one more thing?” Sadie asked when they were walking away from the man who had drawn their picture.

  “I’m afraid to say yes for fear of what you’ll come up with. After all, you were the one who bid on me at the auction just so you could see me about Special Olympics. That should have given me a hint when you told me that. And to think I turned the rest of the evening over to you.”

  She waited until it was clear to cross the street before answering him. “I just want to see the river at night. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

  Again she was proven wrong when, a few minutes later, she was standing on the Moonwalk by the edge of the river enfolded in a velvety night, the cool breeze stirring the strands of her hair, the scents of beignets and coffee drifting to her from a café not far away. She shivered.

  “Cold?”

  She didn’t reply. Andrew drew her against his length and enveloped her in his arms. She felt as though she had come home in his embrace. Oh, no, she was in trouble again.

  “We probably better leave,” she murmured, the statement not coming out with any force while her gaze was transfixed by the romantic spill of moonlight on the river.

  “Yeah, probably.” His whispered words were close to her ear, tickling its shell.

  Neither made a move to leave.

  She snuggled against him, seeking his warmth. He hugged her closer. The stars, the river, the night cast their magic over her, making her believe anything was possible. And maybe for this one day, it was. Tomorrow they would be in Cimarron City, and life would proceed.

  When he turned her to face him, she didn’t say a word. Instead, she tilted her head to look into his eyes, hidden in the shadows of night that had woven a spell around them. This was not reality, Sadie repeated silently. They wanted different things from life. They led different lives. And yet, she was drawn to him. She wanted to heal his broken heart, help him see that God hadn’t abandoned him all those years ago.

  Andrew cupped her face, his fingers combing through her hair. “I enjoyed myself, Sadie.”

  “But?”

  “But we need to leave for the airport. Tomorrow we’ll regret staying so long in New Orleans.”

  Regret? No, she doubted she ever would. “When we’re at work trying to stay awake?”

  “Yes, exactly.” He stepped away, his arms falling to his sides.

  Somehow she didn’t think that was what he’d really meant. He was already reining in his emotions, closing totally down. She didn’t have to see his expression to know how he looked. She could tell by his distancing, his stance that held him apart.

  Chapter Five

  The second the seat belt snapped closed, the strap secure about Sadie’s hips, she felt trapped, perspiration beading on her upper lip. She gripped the arms of her chair and stared straight ahead. The plane began to taxi to the end of the runway. Her fingernails dug into the cushioned padding.

  Breathe, she told herself, but the tightness in her chest attested to the fact she couldn’t. Remember the pastor’s sermon today about fear.

  “Sadie, are you okay?”

  Andrew’s question seemed to come from afar, as though he spoke to her from the other end of a long tunnel. Her mind was blank. She was unable to form a coherent sentence. The fear of man bringeth a snare: but whoso putteth his trust in the Lord shall be safe. The words from Proverbs 29:25 gave her the strength to turn toward Andrew and offer him a ghost of a smile.

  He covered her hand with his, rubbing his warm palm across the backs of her fingers. “Are you afraid of flying?”

  “I’m trying not to be.”

  “I thought you were a risk taker.”

  “Only when I am in control. I thought about learning to fly—but only for a millisecond.”

  “That long?”

  “Okay, we’ve established I’m afraid of flying. Please let’s not talk about it anymore.” Again she recited silently the words from the Bible and again she felt more capable of dealing with this fear.

  “Whatever you say.” Andrew continued to massage her hand as though he could impart his courage into her. “What would you like to talk about? The weather?”

  “Not at the moment, since it directly affects flying,” she quipped, glad she could joke about her fear.

  “Then tell me about Thursday night. What do you expect me to do?”

  She focused her thoughts on her plan to get Andrew involved with her students. For a moment it took her mind away from the fact that the plane was barreling down the runway. “This is an organizational meeting. I want you—” The jet lifted off the ground, and Sadie choked back her next words.

  “Don’t leave me hanging in suspense, Sadie. You can’t say that to a man and not complete the sentence.” He pried her hand loose from the padded arm and held it cradled between his palms.

  The plane’s ascent left her breathless, her heart speeding as fast as the jet through the air. Sweat popped out on her forehead and rolled down her face. I am not alone. God is with me.

  “Take a deep breath, Sadie. You look like you’re going to faint. How in the world did you make it to New Orleans?”

  Sadie followed his advice, and slowly her lungs filled with stale air and her heart eased its frantic beating. “I prayed a lot. I hate to fall apart around others.”

  “But with me it’s okay?”

  “Something like that. You should be flattered. I feel comfortable enough around you to fall apart.”

  “Thanks, I think.”

  She felt his gaze on her and turned to meet his look. “You’re welcome.”

  The jet leveled off, and her body’s reaction to the fact the
y were thousands of feet in the air settled into a slight case of the nerves. She wiped her free hand across her forehead and upper lip.

  She attempted a smile that quivered about the corners of her mouth for a few seconds before disappearing. “I’m not afraid of many things, but flying is one of them. I’m okay, usually, between takeoffs and landings.”

  “So we have a few hours.”

  “If the weather holds.”

  “So what do you expect of me on Thursday?”

  “I want you to present the check from IFI and say a few words. That’s all. You don’t have to stay, but I would love for you to have pizza with us afterward. That is, if you have the time.”

  “Pizza? Isn’t that fattening? I’m surprised a teacher who teaches nutrition would encourage such a dish.”

  Sadie responded to the teasing tone in his voice with a laugh. “Pizza covers four of the five food groups. If you happen to like pineapple on your pizza, it can cover all five. I think that’s pretty nutritious. Besides, you work with what you’ve got. Teenagers have distinct appetites and are particularly attracted to sugar and fats.”

  “Then I’ll be at the high school at seven with a check, a few words and an appetite for pizza.” He unlatched his seat belt and shifted in the chair to a more comfortable position. “Now that the date is almost over, what was your fourth wish?”

  The question caught her by surprise. Her eyes widened, and her throat went dry. She remembered her foolish fourth wish, to be kissed by him, and blushed. “Nothing to concern you.” She squeaked the words out.

  “I don’t believe you, Sadie. You’re ten shades of red.”

  “Okay. It does concern you. But that’s all you’re going to find out.” She pressed her lips closed to emphasize her point.

  “Oh, now you have my curiosity aroused. You know I’m not going to let this drop.”

  She narrowed her eyes and folded her arms across her chest.

  He laughed. “I think I get the hint. Okay, if you won’t tell me what it is, then at least tell me when it is fulfilled.”

  She nodded, feeling the heat in her cheeks spreading. She needed to get their conversation away from wishes and onto a safer topic. “I had two reasons for bidding on you at the auction. One was IFI supporting our Special Olympics team, and the other—” she heaved a sigh and plunged ahead “—the other involved a vocational training program I’m developing at the high school.”