“Yes, Catherine invited me to supper.”
“Ah, good, good. So, what do you think of me dogs?”
Sarah came over to the kennels and knelt down. “Are you breeding for show or do you run earth dog trials?”
“I do a little show breedin’, but most of these dogs aren’t for show, they go down the runs, these dogs do.”
Sarah was petting one of the short hairs through the fence. She looked up at Mr. Byrne. “I love doxies; they were our dog of choice at home. We never put our babies through their paces though. They were always pampered pets.”
Riordan knelt down beside her. “So which are yer favorites then?”
“I have tender spot for the short-hairs. They have such definite personalities, but the sweetest doxie we ever had was a miniature long-hair. He never met a stranger.”
Riordan grabbed the fence and got back to his feet and held out his hand for Sarah. He hauled her back up. “Don’t you have a dog now?”
Sarah shook her head. “Dogs aren’t allowed at my apartment building.”
He patted her cheek. “Well, if you’re ever in a place where you can have one, let me know.” Mr. Byrne turned to his son. “So what brings you out today, son?”
“Sarah’s working with Nicole on the Fourth of July party, Dad. I thought she should see the place.”
“Good.” He turned back to Sarah. “So, what do yah think? He’s got about fifteen hundred acres out here. Good land too. We run some cattle and the fields they don’t need, we rent for hayin’.”
Sarah shrugged her shoulders. “Now you’ve moved way beyond my area of expertise, Mr. Byrne. I’m a city girl from the West Coast. I don’t know a thing about cows.”
“Well, Miss Adams, at least you don’t pretend to know what yah don’t know. I like that.” He offered her his arm. “Come on then, let’s head back up to the house and see what Catherine’s plannin’ for supper.”
“Please call me Sarah.”
Riordan smiled. “Only if you call me Riordan.”
“It’s a deal,” Sarah told him.
By the time they made it back to the house, Catherine was working on supper.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” Sarah asked.
“Sure.” Catherine grabbed an apron out of the drawer and handed it to Sarah. “Peel some potatoes for me?”
“Absolutely,” she agreed. Catherine handed her a potato peeler. Sarah found the trash can, and a large pot. She filled the pot with cold water, sat it on the table, grabbed the trashcan and the potatoes, sat down in the chair next to all of it and went to work. “How many do you want?”
“Well, there will only be four of us tonight.”
“Will one for each person and one for the pot do it?” Sarah inquired.
“So where did you learn that, Sarah?” Catherine asked as she tenderized the round steak.
“My parents were Californians by the time I came along, but Mom grew up in Arkansas. She got a scholarship to a nursing school in LA and never looked back. But she’s still got some country ways.”
“How about your Dad?” Catherine asked her.
“Daddy’s a city boy through and through. He hails from Boston. He grew up there, went to school there, went to medical school there and then went out to the coast to do a residency. That’s how they met.”
“You have any brothers or sisters?”
“Just my older brother, David. He’s a gastroenterologist.” Sarah finished the last potato. She put the trash can back where she found it and took the potatoes over to the sink to give them a good cleaning
“Well, you wouldn’t know it to look about this place now, but when all the kids get here for the Fourth of July party and our friends arrive, we’ll be wall-to-wall people.” Catherine gave her a sidelong glance. “Say, you wouldn’t like to come, would you? After all, you’ll have done all the hard work, and there’ll be a lot of young people here your age.”
“I’m not sure Mr. Byrne would want that.” Sarah demurred.
“Riordan? Are you kidding? He loves it! He loves all the noise and fun.”
Sarah shook her head quickly, “Oh no, no, I meant Eamon.”
Catherine leaned a little closer to Sarah and said, in a low conspiratorial tone, “You’re invited. Bring you bathing suit and an overnight bag just in case.”
Sarah smiled brightly. “I bet you pull keys, don’t’ you.”
“We do. No one gets their keys returned until we can be sure that they’re sober and able to drive.”
“I can’t promise, but it sounds lovely,” Sarah said.
Catherine did not push, instead she gave Sarah the job of setting the table while she breaded the chicken fried steak, cooked it and made the gravy.
“You can start putting the other dishes out on the table,” Catherine ordered from her place behind the cast iron skillet.
Sarah found a green salad in the refrigerator, along with the dressings and the butter. On the stove were the green beans and some Brussels sprouts which she put into serving bowls and set out. There were no rolls or biscuits so she found some whole wheat bread and some white bread and put a little of each out as well. By this time, Catherine was mashing the now cooked potatoes. She pointed to the covered platter of meat. Sarah carried it to the table. When she came back, the mashed potatoes were ready and Catherine was pouring the cream gravy into the gravy bowl.
“Go call the men,” Catherine said.
Sarah went into the great room. “Supper’s on.” She went back into the kitchen and rewashed her hands.
Catherine pointed to a chair. “You sit there, Sarah.”
The two men joined them but before they sat down, Riordan began to cross himself. Eamon and Catherine joined him and when Sarah realized that he was going to say the traditional prayer of grace, she joined as well. “In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit, Bless us oh, Lord and these Thy gifts which we are about to receive from thy bounty, through Christ our Lord, Amen.”
At that point, everyone sat down and began passing food. Little was said while everyone was filling their plates, but once that was accomplished, Riordan looked over at Sarah and asked, “You aren’t by any chance Catholic are you, Sarah?”
“I’m afraid I come from those traitors, sir. I’m Episcopalian,” Sarah explained.
“Ah, you’re English then.”
Sarah held her head. “I’m afraid so. My father’s people came over as indentured servants who ended up in Boston. My mother’s people were also British, but we don’t know if they were English, Scottish or Welsh. Somehow, they ended up in Arkansas.”
“Well, I’m Irish as you can tell. Now Cate’s people came with the first settlers to Maryland. But they were wanderers and just kept wandering west.”
Catherine joined in. “And we picked up a few stray genes along the way.” She winked at Sarah. I’m an American, an amalgam of many, made into something new.”
“So, Sarah, are we going to have grand fireworks again this year?” Riordan asked.
“Nicole and I decided to use the same company since you all liked them so well, and they promise to put on a spectacular show.” Sarah’s eyes lit up as she thought of it. “I have high hopes and fingers crossed.”
Everyone laughed. Eamon laughed too, though he’d been strangely silent during the dinner conversation. From time to time Sarah would look to him, thinking that he might be upset, but he seemed content.
Catherine, who’d been watching her son as well, ordered him to the kitchen. “There’s a pie in the pie safe, Eamon. Go fetch it and some plates.”
“Yes, Mom.” Eamon got up and returned a moment later with a perfectly baked two-crust pie. When Catherine cut into it, Sarah gasped.
“Is that gooseberry?”
“It is,” Catherine replied.
“I love gooseberry pie! I had my first piece when I moved back here and have been enthralled ever since.”
Catherine cut Sarah a piece and handed her the plate. “Here you a
re.”
Sarah took a bite. She closed her eyes and savored the taste of the gooseberries on her tongue surrounded by a flaky light crust. It tasted heavenly. Sarah swallowed and opened her eyes. “That…that is great pie.” She took another bite, and then another. “Really great pie,” Sarah looked over at Catherine.
“We have the gooseberries right here on the farm. I can send you home with a pint so you can make your own pie.”
Sarah’s head drooped. “I’m ashamed to admit, I make the worst pie crust of anyone I know. I’d be forced to go and get a frozen crust just to have it be edible.”
“Well that can be remedied. You come out sometime, and I will teach you how to make pie crust, Sarah,” Catherine told her.
“And bread? Do you make your own bread?”
“Sometimes.”
Sarah stood up and started collecting the dirty dishes from the table. “You may be sorry you offered. Those things are on my bucket list.”
Riordan laughed. “You’re still young. Why do you have a bucket list?”
“Because I’m always finding things I want to learn about and do,” Sarah told him. “So, I add them to my list.”
Eamon started picking up dishes as well.
“You don’t need to do that,” Catherine protested.
“Mom. It was a great meal. Now, go and have a sit down with Dad, and Sarah and I will clean the kitchen.”
“All right.”
Eamon and Sarah made short work of the kitchen duties. Despite his large family, Sarah had as much practice as he at clean up because she and David did it as chores. Even when their family couldn’t eat together, it was still their responsibility to clean up the kitchen before going to bed at night.
They finished loading the dishwasher. Eamon scrubbed the pots while Sarah dried. She cleaned the table and the counters while Eamon did the floor. When it was all spotless, Eamon turned to Sarah, reached around her back and undid the apron.
They were face to face and Sarah held her breath. Eamon looked strange, shocked even. He held the apron in his left hand and with his right, he cupped Sarah’s chin and slowly lowered his mouth to hers. Sarah exhaled and Eamon wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close. The kiss was long. Eamon almost drew away, they were joined only by their bodies when he touched his lips to hers a second time. Sarah opened her mouth under his, but he slowly backed away and turned to lay the apron on the counter.
Sarah’s hand went to her mouth. When he turned back to face her, she dropped her hand to her side.
Eamon said, softly so that only she could hear, “Do I need to apologize again?”
Sarah shook her head. “Please don’t.” After a moment’s hesitation she added, “I like it when you kiss me; I just wonder if you mean it.”
Eamon’s eyes lit up. His chin wrinkled a little in what Sarah had come to recognize as his method to hold back laughter. He took hold of her hand and kissed her palm before dropping it. “Come on. I’ll get you home.”
They walked into the living room and said goodbye to Eamon’s parents.
“Sarah, you call and we’ll set up a date for some baking lessons,” Catherine promised.
Then they got back into the golf cart and made the trip back up the hill to the larger house. Eamon was very quiet the entire time. They walked from the workshop through the main house. Eamon set the alarms and they went out the front door.
Eamon tried to resist the impulse and failed. He drew Sarah into his arms again and kissed her lips. She dropped her tote bag to the ground, wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed close to him. He put her up against the car so that he could feel her body under his and touch her at the same time. Sarah opened her mouth for him. He slipped his tongue inside joining them together while he ran his hand over her torso. When he withdrew, she pursued him, tasting him with her tongue, running the tip over his lips and then pushing inside. He grew hard and Sarah pressed closer, rolling her hips as if she could not be close enough to him. Eamon could taste her rising desire on her breath and feel it as her heart beat hard against his chest. Pushing his hands against the car, he tore himself away from her, turning quickly, hoping that the cool night air would cool him down.“Whoa.”
Sarah walked toward him but Eamon put a hand back in a stopping gesture. “Give me a moment, Sarah, please.” she waited patiently.
Eamon finally turned around. “Look, when I kiss you, I mean it. But this isn’t a good time. I mean…I really want to…but it would screw a whole lot of things up that neither of us wants to wreck.”
“You mean the project,” Sarah said.
“Yeah, I do.”
“Business comes first. I get it!” Sarah managed to say.
Eamon caught the sarcastic tone in her voice and he got a little angry himself. “Yeah, Sarah, in this instance it does. Because in this instance a whole lot of people’s livelihoods are riding on the success you make of that DLC. If it gets messed up for any reason, then there has to be another round of lay-offs at Gryphon World, maybe even more than before because we’re putting more money into this project. So you tell me Sarah. What’s more important? Is it you and I doing the nasty, or you and I making certain that the Wickerworld DLC is a success?”
Sarah cringed. She knew that she had that coming because Eamon was right. He just wanted to screw her; it wouldn’t mean anything to him so it wasn’t worth the risk to the project.
“Sorry, Mr. Byrne. I was wrong. This project does need to come first.” She managed a smile. “Why don’t we just put this little incident down to spring time and the sap rising and all that.”
Eamon reached down, grabbed her tote and handed it to her. “I think that’s wise. Come on. Let’s get you back to the City.”
Eamon got Sarah back to her car, saw her safely off into the night and then went to his condo. It took him a long time to sleep and when he did, he dreamed of Sarah, Sarah in a knit dress that clung to her curves, a dress that slid up her smooth thighs easily as his hand ran over the soft velvet of her skin. He dreamed of Sarah, naked, sweaty, passionate, opening her thighs, beckoning him, reaching for him—He woke up with a start and in a great deal of pain. Damn, I should never have kissed her, he thought. It had awakened something in him that he’d managed to put to sleep. Eamon went to the bathroom and took a long cool shower.
Chapter 21
Sarah worked even harder after visiting Eamon’s family home. The only recreation she had for a few weeks was singing in the spring concert for the Little Blue Choir. To her surprise, Eamon actually came to hear the concert. He confirmed a date with Jason when the choir could record in the studio, but aside from perfunctory congratulations, he said nothing to Sarah.
After that, Eamon was out on the road again going to conventions to promote Mirrored Nation: Reflections. The game was in the box and ready for rollout. Now, employees from Gryphon World were out at just about every video gaming, science fiction and fantasy convention in the country promoting it. Later, in August, there would be a trip to Europe to some of the conventions there.
Home on a Wing and a Prayer
By the time the Memorial Day weekend came around, everything was in place for the Fourth of July party. The DLC was actually ahead of schedule and Sarah felt okay about leaving for a few days to go home and see her parents and brother.
She flew into the San Diego airport at about three in the afternoon on Friday. Taking a deep breath, Sarah said a little prayer as they made their final approach. Some idiot had allowed a company to build a multistory parking garage directly in line with the final approach to the only runway at the airport. The clearance between the landing gear and the building was horrifically small. Add to that the fact that the runway was short, almost too short for jets, and reverse thrust of the engines was almost mandatory. This made landing at the San Diego airport an exciting event but not in a good way.
Sarah took a shuttle home to Bonita. She pulled up in the driveway and got her stuff out of the van. The front door was open, onl
y the screen was shut.
“Mom?” Her voice was met with yapping as Noodles, the latest in a long line of doxies met her at the door. “Hey Noodles,” Sarah said as she pulled open the screen. She made it in the door, just barely. Noodles was all over her, doing the happy dance and barking madly.
Sarah’s mom came down the stairs. “Sarah!” Her mother grabbed her up in a big hug. “Sarah, sweetie,” her mom repeated, giving her a kiss.
“Hi Mom,” Sarah managed. Her eyes filled with tears. Despite everything, it was good to be home for awhile. She kissed her Mom’s cheek.
“Come on, sweetie. Let’s get your things up to the guest room.” Janet Adams was as lithe and spry as she had been when Sarah was a girl. She picked up Sarah’s suitcase and took it up the stairs, leaving Sarah to manage her tote and overnight bag.
Determined not to grow fat, Sarah’s mother did aerobics, yoga and boot camp to stay fit and trim. It seemed to be working, for her mother was in fine shape.
Once they were up in the guest room, Sarah asked, “Is Dad at work?
“Yep. He’ll be home around five.” Janet looked her daughter up and down.
“So, what’s this?” Her hand went to Sarah’s hair. “That’s pretty radical, isn’t it?” She looked down at Sarah’s skinny pink jeans. “And what’s with the jeans?”
Sarah shook her head. “It comes with the territory, Mom. I work for a video game company now. Most of my co-workers are twenty and have tattoos everywhere.”
Janet’s eyes grew alarmed. “You don’t, you haven’t—”
“No, Mom, no tattoos.” Sarah opened her case and started hanging up her clothes. “And I brought other clothes, classics.”
“Good, because we’re going out with Doctor and Mrs. Ingalls tomorrow night. Dinner at the Oceannaire Seafood Room and the theater after. Greg will be with them.” Janet started hanging up some of Sarah’s things. “I was thinking we could go shopping in the morning.”
Sarah heaved a mental sigh. Some things never changed. It’s only two and half days, she told herself, I can do this. “What about David?” Sarah asked aloud.
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