by Beth Andrews
Best. Night. Ever.
* * *
THE NIGHT WOULDN’T end.
Not that it was a bad party, Sadie thought as she let cold dishwater out of the kitchen sink. She just wasn’t in the mood for the whole celebration thing and the act that went with it. She’d played her part, though. No sense disappointing anyone or, God forbid, have them asking her questions about what was wrong, what was going on with her. So she’d made the rounds, flitted from group to group, bringing laughter and making a good time even better.
She was, after all, the life of any party.
Just like her father.
She wondered if it had ever worn him out.
“Sadie,” Rose said as she came into the kitchen, her tone less than friendly. She set down the almost empty fruit-and-cheese platter on the island. “You don’t have to do that.”
Sadie wiped out the sink then turned the water on hot. “It’s no problem.”
“Don’t be silly,” Rose said, smiling tightly. “Go back to the party. Enjoy yourself.”
If Sadie didn’t know better, she’d think Rose was trying to get rid of her. “Really. It’s okay. I want to help.”
“I insist.”
And to go along with her insistence, Rose snatched the bottle of dish soap from Sadie’s hand.
Sadie raised her eyebrows. She could go back, she supposed, as Rose nudged her aside and squirted soap under the water. The party was winding down, but there were still quite a few guests milling about.
That was the problem. She didn’t want to entertain people. Didn’t want to be friendly. Didn’t want to try to charm everyone, entertain them all with more stories of her adventures. She wanted to stay here, right here. She wanted to hide.
And that was the ultimate sin for someone who was always, always the belle of any ball.
“I realize you don’t need any help, but do you...?” She cleared her throat. Tried again, this time adding a pleasant grin so Rose wouldn’t see her true intentions. “Would you mind if I stayed in here anyway?”
Rose stared at her as if she’d asked if she could strip naked and roll around in the leftover cake.
Not that that was a bad idea. It was really, really good cake.
“You want to stay in the kitchen,” Rose said, studying her much the same way James often did. Trying to look into people’s souls must be a family trait. “You do realize there’s a party going on outside of this room?”
“I guess I’m just tired.” Yeah, tired of explaining how her latest idea had tanked and that she had big plans once she was back on her feet again. Of pretending her life was going exactly how she wanted. Of feeling as if every person she’d spoken with had more going for them than she did—careers and spouses, kids and contentment.
She snorted softly. As if she’d want any of those things. Okay, maybe the career wouldn’t be too bad, but only if it was one that let her come and go as she pleased. One that didn’t tie her to a desk in some closed-off office in a town where the most exciting thing to happen was when the local high school football team made the state playoffs.
One where she had the freedom to be herself, to live life on her own terms instead of blindly following the expectations of others. Where she could breathe.
One that wasn’t Shady Grove.
“I could dry,” Sadie offered when Rose remained silent.
Not looking too thrilled with that prospect, she nonetheless handed Sadie a clean towel.
The window above the sink was open, bringing in a crisp breeze. Shutting her eyes, Sadie inhaled deeply and held it, held in the scents of wet grass and fresh, clean air. “I love how it smells after a summer rain. Like everything’s been wiped clean.”
Like anything was possible.
Rose made a noncommittal sound.
“I can’t believe how big Max has gotten,” Sadie said of Eddie’s son as she accepted a dish from Rose. “What is he now? Five?”
“Seven.”
“It seems like just yesterday he was a baby.”
“Yes, well, you’ve been gone a few years now. Things tend to change. Children grow. People get older.”
“I’m getting older, too,” Sadie sang, but her “Landslide” reference fell to the ground with a resounding splat. “Sorry. I can never resist a chance to do my Stevie Nicks impersonation.” Nothing. Not even the faintest hint of a smile, no glimmer of humor lit Rose’s hazel eyes. “Uh...James, he, uh...” Sadie set the plate on the counter, took the next clean one. “Mentioned you’re going back to school.”
“Yes.”
“That’s so great. Really great. What are you taking up?”
Rose sighed, as if dealing with Sadie was more than one person could handle. “Human services.”
“Wow, that’s—”
“Great,” Rose interrupted, rinsing another dish. “So you’ve said.”
Okay. James was right. His mom really was stressed.
And grumpy, too.
Zoe padded into the room, crossed to Sadie and nudged her legs. Sadie slung the towel over her shoulder and kneeled to take the dog’s face in her hands. “Hey, there, beautiful. Did you have fun playing with your new boyfriend?”
Almost immediately after James had first introduced Zoe to Elvis, the two dogs had fallen in love with each other.
“I’m glad you two are getting along so well,” Sadie continued. “And I promise, while we’re at your house, I won’t let him eat out of your food bowl or sleep in your bed.”
Rose inhaled sharply. “Are you...are you staying with James?”
“It’s so much easier,” Sadie said, washing her hands. “I hate to impose on my mom and Will—they’re used to being empty nesters.” Not that her mother and stepfather would complain about having Sadie there. They would probably love it. But it reminded her too much of when she’d been young, of how her life had taken a sudden turn after her father’s death. Of how close she’d come to losing herself.
Like her mother had lost herself.
Sadie took a hold of the serving bowl Rose held out. “Plus, with Will’s allergies, there’s no way I could bring Elvis there. And there’s barely room for Lottie and her roommate in that cramped apartment, so I asked James to put me up for a little while.”
Rose looked as if she’d sucked a lemon then chased it with a shot of drain cleaner. And she still hadn’t let go of the bowl. “How long is a little while?”
Sadie frowned, considered yanking on the damn thing, but resisted. Barely. “A few weeks or so.”
Rose shut her eyes. “Lovely,” she murmured.
“Is that a problem?”
“Why would it be?” As if realizing she was in a subtle tug-of-war, Rose let go of the bowl. “Like you said, it’s only a few weeks. And then you’ll be off again.”
At least that thought seemed to cheer her up.
Sadie hummed “Landslide”—now that it was stuck in her head, resistance was futile—and stared blindly out the window. Luckily, the storm had dissipated almost as quickly as it had formed. After the last of the rain, the clouds had shifted, blowing away to find some other poor town to soak. Best of all, only three people had called her Cyclone Sadie.
One of them being her sister, so that didn’t even really count.
Frank and Rose’s house sat back from the road on top of a small knoll. Frank’s father, Leo—or Big Leo as he was known to family and friends—occupied the small cottage on the corner of the property. James’s only sister, Maddie, lived with her daughter across the street. Even Eddie lived on the street, though a block away, while Leo had an apartment two streets over.
Only James had separated himself from his family, choosing to build his house on the outskirts of town.
As if conjuring him out of thin air, Sadie heard the familiar deep to
ne of his laugh moments before he stepped into the soft glow of the lanterns spread across each tier of the deck. Smiling—she’d always loved the sound of his laugh—she opened her mouth, ready to call out to him only to have the sound die in her throat when she realized the reason he was so jolly. He was with someone. A woman. An attractive woman in a deep blue wrap dress that showcased her curvaceous body and killer legs. A dress that made Sadie feel decidedly underdressed in her floor-length, multicolored skirt and black tank top.
They stopped next to an SUV, one of the few vehicles that had circumvented the traffic jam in the driveway by parking in the yard near the back corner of the house. James said something that had the brunette smiling and swatting his arm, her hand lingering there longer than necessary.
“Eddie’s heading home,” Frank said as he came into the kitchen. In khakis and a green polo, he was still as trim and fit as when Sadie had first met him as a child, the only signs of age a few lines around his brown eyes and a liberal sprinkling of gray in his short dark hair. “He’s going to drop Dad off on his way.”
“Are Maddie and Bree still here?” Rose asked.
“They’re saying good-night to Gerry and Carl. It was nice of you to invite them.”
“They are almost family.”
“Almost.” He came up behind his wife and kissed the side of her neck. “You outdid yourself, Rosie. As usual.”
She tipped her head to the side so that it pressed against his. “Thank you. I think James enjoyed himself.”
“He seems to be enjoying himself now,” Sadie murmured, wondering at the bite to her tone, the tightness in her chest.
Rose and Frank both followed her gaze out the window. The brunette had her head close to James’s, said something as he typed on his phone.
Putting her number into his contact list.
Sadie cleared her throat. “I don’t recognize her. Is she a friend of Maddie’s?”
“That’s Anne Forbes. She works for a local painting contractor,” Frank said, picking up a clean towel and drying the next dish. Raising his bushy eyebrows, he nudged Rose with his elbow. “You must be pretty pleased with yourself.”
“You know I hate to brag,” Rose said. “But since you mention it, yes. Yes, I am.” She glanced at Sadie. “Very pleased.”
“Is this one of those family secrets?” Sadie asked, forcing her tone to lighten, her lips to curve.
“No secret. Rose here decided to take matters into her own hands and find our eldest a wife.”
Sadie’s scalp prickled. Her hands tightened on the towel, twisting the fabric until her fingers went numb. “A wife?”
“No one’s booked St. Theresa’s for a wedding mass yet,” Rose said drily. “I just thought he might be interested in meeting a lovely, intelligent woman.”
“As opposed to the ugly, stupid women he’s usually interested in meeting?” Frank asked.
“Well, he did go out with Melissa Alden,” Sadie said, glad her voice had returned to normal. “She was cute enough, but dumb as a rock. Then again, James was fourteen and, I believe, hypnotized by the sight of Melissa in her cheerleading outfit.”
“Many men have had their better sense stolen by short skirts.” Frank winked at Sadie. “How do you think Rose managed to nab me?”
“I’d take exception to that,” Rose said, “except it’s true. And it worked.”
Frank leaned down, whispered something in Rose’s ear that had her laughing.
Wanting to give them privacy, Sadie crossed to a different window, looked out as James opened the door to the SUV. Anne climbed into the driver’s seat, her dark, straight hair swinging above her shoulders. She really was lovely. Sadie had seen her earlier in the living room when she’d been chatting with Maddie and Big Leo. Sadie had envied the other woman’s red, open-toed shoes, the way her side-swept bangs fell perfectly.
Sadie lifted her hand to her own hair, tucked an errant curl back into the messy bun at the top of her head.
James shut the SUV’s door and Anne turned on the ignition. A moment later, she backed up then pulled forward. James watched as she drove alongside the driveway.
So, James had met someone. Sadie rolled her eyes. Obviously he’d met Anne, but they’d exchanged numbers. Had maybe even made plans to meet for drinks. Or dinner.
A date.
Good for him. Maybe it would work out and he and Anne would fall in love, get married, have a couple of little Montesanos, kids who had James’s easy grin, his love of schedules and his anal tendencies. There was no one more suited for marriage and family life than James. He deserved to get everything he wanted. Deserved to be happy.
Hadn’t Sadie always known he’d find someone? It might not be Anne, but eventually he’d meet a woman he could love and spend the rest of his life with. And when he found that woman, it would mean the end of Sadie’s relationship with James.
Oh, sure, they would always be friends, but things would change between them. How could they not? No longer would she be able to stay at his house when she returned to town. She’d have to stop calling him whenever she wanted, night or day, just because she wanted to hear the sound of his voice. Because she’d missed him.
No longer would she be first in his life. That spot would belong to his wife, his family, the way it was supposed to.
He wouldn’t need her at all. He’d have what he’d always wanted.
And she’d be left alone.
CHAPTER FOUR
JAMES SANK ONTO a lounge chair on the deck, opened his bottle of water and took a long drink. He wanted to get home. Though tomorrow—he checked his phone’s clock—though today was Sunday, he still had to work. He needed to finish that estimate for the Websters’ addition, catch up on some billing and put in a few hours working on the design for Mrs. Kline’s kitchen.
The door opened and Maddie, the youngest Montesano sibling and only girl, sauntered onto the deck, followed by her eleven-year-old daughter, Bree. Zoe, lying at James’s feet, rose and walked over to Bree.
“I thought you left ten minutes ago,” Maddie said to him.
“I’m waiting for Sadie.” It seemed as if he’d spent his entire life waiting for Sadie. “She wanted to double-check if Mom needed any more help cleaning up.”
He wanted to follow her back to his place in case there was more damage to the Jeep than they initially thought.
“God help her.” Maddie glanced through the door’s window, her white summer dress like a beacon in the dim light. “We’re heading out before Mom can give us something more to do.”
“We waited until Nonna went into the living room and then snuck out,” Bree whispered excitedly, her hand on Zoe’s head. “Poppa kept watch.”
James pulled her down beside him and put his arm around her shoulders. “You’re taking your lives in your hands doing that.”
“Desperate times, my friend,” Maddie said. “You know how she gets after a party.”
“Crazy,” Bree said solemnly.
He squeezed her. “That’s my girl.”
“When I told her I’d come back in the morning to run the vacuum, I thought her head was going to explode. And that I would have to clean that up, too.” Maddie shook her head. “I think this school thing really has her freaked out.”
“She’ll work through it.”
“I know. But it’s tough when she’s the one we can always trust to be practical and responsible. Well, other than you, that is.”
“You make practicality and responsibility sound like negative traits.”
“Did I?” she asked sweetly. “So sorry.”
She wasn’t. She was rarely sorry, even when she knew damn well she was to blame. And there wasn’t much sweet about her, either. Growing up with three older brothers had made her tough as nails. Her stubbornness, competiveness and bordering
-on-obsessive need to prove she was equal to the men in her family in every way was due to the prickly, pugnacious personality she’d been born with.
Was it any wonder they all adored her?
Maddie tugged Bree to her feet. “Come on, kiddo. Let’s get out of here before Nonna realizes we’ve escaped.” When James stood as well, Maddie hugged him. “Happy birthday.”
“Thanks.”
She stepped back and Bree moved into his arms. “Happy birthday, Uncle James.”
He held her close. She was a shorter, rounder version of her mother with her tanned skin, dark hair and heavy eyebrows. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, surprised to realize she now reached the middle of his chest.
When the hell did that happen? How did it happen?
It seemed like just yesterday she’d had pigtails and a wide, empty space in her smile where her two front teeth used to be. Those teeth had long ago come in, and she’d traded in the pigtails for a supershort pixie cut that accentuated the fullness of her face. But that would change soon, too. She’d get taller. Thin out. Grow up.
But she still smelled like a little girl, like clean sweat and baby powder. She still hugged him fiercely as if she never wanted to let go.
Love for her swamped him and he hoped she never did let go.
“Hey,” he said, leaning away so he could look down into her pretty face. “How about on Tuesday we go to that new bakery that opened up downtown?”
She stepped back, sent her mom a worried look. “Tuesday?”
“That’s the first day of school, right?” He pulled out his phone. He could have sworn he’d made a note that school started on the twenty-fourth.
“Yes,” she said slowly, sidling closer to Maddie, “that’s the first day, but—”
“Or we can stick with Rix’s Diner if that’s what you’d prefer. What?” he asked when he realized they were both staring at him, Bree rubbing her eyebrow, a sure sign she was upset or nervous.
Standing behind her daughter, Maddie placed both hands on Bree’s shoulders. “Actually, Neil is coming into town Monday night so he can be here for Bree’s first day of seventh grade.”
