“I’m so sorry about the mess,” Sarah said.
“Don’t you worry about the mess,” Louise said. “Why don’t you tell us what we can do to help.”
Sarah told them what had happened that morning. She’d given up pretending she could do it all. “Now Liam’s out in the garden and refuses to come inside. Noah and Zoe are upstairs,” she said. “That’s them crying...of course. Noah hurt his finger. I can’t...I don’t think I can do this.” The flatness in her own voice surprised her.
“Okay,” Louise said. “Kate, why don’t you go and see if you can coax Liam in and settle the kids?”
“Of course.” Kate nodded and headed out the back.
Louise then turned to Sarah. “Do you have any trash bags? And some Lysol?”
Sarah stared at Louise. “You have the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen,” she said. “Are they brown?”
“Thank you, dear. They’re hazel,” Louise said, obliging her.
“What color are my eyes? I really like your eyes. They’re very beautiful.” There was no rhyme or reason for what Sarah had just asked. She said the first thing that popped into her mind—the first thing that didn’t relate to the children, or cleaning...or death.
“Sarah, dear, why don’t you go and take a shower, and I’ll take care of cleaning up here.”
Sarah suddenly felt very vulnerable. She was embarrassed. Embarrassed about the mess that her house had become. Embarrassed by how she looked. Sarah worried that she probably smelled a bit rank too. That’s probably why Louise was telling her to take a shower. For the first time in three weeks, Sarah saw her life through the eyes of an outsider and she burst into tears.
“Okay—let’s see.” Louise took Sarah by the shoulders and led her up the stairs. “Come with me.”
Sarah did as she was told. Unblinking, she followed Louise into the bathroom and watched as she turned the water on. “You’ll feel much better after a nice bath,” she said.
It had never ever crossed Sarah’s mind that one day, a perfect stranger would be bathing her. But there she was, in a bath drawn by her nice neighbor with hazel-colored eyes.
“How does that feel?” Louise asked as she scrubbed Sarah’s back.
The gentle touch brought tears to her eyes.
“You know,” Louise said, “when my Warren died, I went through the same thing.”
“Who?”
“My husband, Warren. He died three years ago.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Sarah said. “My husband died three weeks ago.”
“I know, darling. It’s been a difficult time for you.”
“I wish I had known your husband.” Apologies spilled from within her. Sarah felt bad that she didn’t know her neighbors. Or that one of them had died. They’d moved to Carlton Bay six years ago. She felt ashamed for not knowing that someone so close was grieving.
“He was a good man,” Louise said. “And not a day goes by that I don’t think about him fondly.”
Sarah stared at the water in front of her. “I don’t want them to take my babies away.” Her voice was croaky; all but a whisper.
Louise stopped what she was doing. “Who’s taking your babies away?”
“Social services.” The fear had been hanging over Sarah since she’d first recognized she was incapable of handling Adam’s death. Although she tried, a part of her knew that she wasn’t giving her children the best version of herself. “I’m scared that they’ll say I’m unfit.”
“Sarah, no one is going to call social services,” Louise said as she poured water over Sarah’s hair. “And no one is going to take your children.”
Sarah held her head back and let the warm water spread over her like an undeserved embrace. “I’m a failure...I’ve failed them. Adam will never forgive me.”
“You have not failed anyone. This is just a setback.” Louise squeezed shampoo into the palm of her hand.
Sarah closed her eyes. She could feel three weeks of dirt and grime lifting as Louise massaged her scalp.
“Is there anyone that can take care of the children while you take some time for yourself?”
Sarah shook her head. “Adam has a cousin in Willow Oaks.”
“Grandparents?”
“Adam’s parents died ten years ago in a car accident,” Sarah said. “Both my parents are gone too.”
“That’s how Warren went—a car accident.” Louise rinsed the shampoo off Sarah’s hair and applied some conditioner.
Sarah closed her eyes and breathed in the clean smell of grapefruit and mint. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Don’t be—it was an accident,” Louise said. “This cousin of Adam’s—in Willow Oaks—do you think they can help?”
Sarah didn’t think she could bring herself to ask Charlotte for help. She had children of her own and a business to run. “I can’t ask her to do that. She’s much too busy.”
“Well...you don’t ask, you don’t get,” Louise said with certainty. “Now, don’t get me wrong here, but I think that we should go and see your doctor.”
Sarah hung her head down and laid it over her knees. She didn’t want to see a doctor.
“There’s no shame in asking for help. And with what you’ve been through, I’m surprised you haven’t gone sooner. I’d be happy to go with you.”
“He’s just going to put me on medication,” Sarah mumbled.
“So what? People take medication for headaches—why shouldn’t we take some for depression?”
Sarah looked at Louise. “Do you think I’m depressed?”
Louise shrugged. “I fell into depression when my husband died.”
“I’m a mom—I have kids. I can’t get depressed.”
“You’re a mother and that’s probably why you have depression,” Louise countered.
“Are you saying the kids depress me?” Sarah’s mouth curved into a smile.
“We’ll make an appointment for tomorrow.” Louise got up off her knees. “Can you get up okay?”
Sarah pushed herself up, and Louise proceeded to dry her with a towel. “I’ve never stood naked in front of another person before,” she said.
“There’s a first for everything.”
“I’m sorry. This must be so weird for you.”
“Not any weirder than it must be for you,” Louise joked. “Besides—it is what it is.”
Like a child, Sarah followed Louise into the bedroom. She watched her pick out a sweater from the closet and, after opening a few drawers, a pair of yoga pants. “Louise?”
Louise looked up from the drawers. “Hmmm?”
“Thank you.”
“For what, dear?”
“For being here with me.”
Chapter 2
Kate Morgan
Kate had managed to calm Zoe down with a bottle of milk and cuddles. She’d also kissed Noah’s boo-boo better. Liam, she’d found, was in a makeshift fort behind the trees in the back of the garden. The four-year-old was angry, but when Kate asked if she could come into his fort, he’d agreed. She was glad he hadn’t asked for a password.
Kate herded them into the boys’ bedroom and one by one, sponge bathed them with warm water. Their clothes were dirty and food stains had crusted over. They would have been relieved to get changed in to some fresh clothing.
It broke her heart to see them that way, but she knew that no one could ever blame their mother. Sarah had been through a lot in the last few weeks. Having to care for three little kids solo after the death of one’s husband was a lot to ask of anyone. She was glad that Sarah had messaged her.
When Kate got the text message, she didn’t hesitate. Regardless of how little she knew Sarah or the other woman, Louise, she knew that she needed to help. And besides, it was better than spending another day at home waiting for Evan.
“Kate?” Louise knocked on the door.
“Come in,” she said, putting a t-shirt over Noah’s head.
“If you’re done, maybe you can come down and we can get these guys to ea
t something.”
Louise was a beautiful woman in a mousy kind of way. Her light hazel eyes, covered with an overgrown dark brown fringe, glowed with kindness. Kate wondered how old she was. “We won’t be long,” Kate said with a nod.
When she finished dressing the children, she carried Zoe on her hip and led the other two down the stairs and through to the kitchen where Sarah sat blowing into a cup of hot tea.
“Hi kids,” Louise sang when they’d filed in.
“Mommy!” Noah cried when he saw his mom. “I hurt my finger.”
Zoe wrestled herself off Kate and ran to her mom’s side, crying once again.
Kate glanced at Louise. “I think we need to give Mommy some time to have some breakfast,” she said. But her words were ignored, and the crying grew even louder when Liam hit Noah on the head.
“Do you have Charlotte’s number?” Louise asked Sarah, who pointed to a list of phone numbers on the fridge. “Is she the woman that owns the Strawberry Fare Cafe?”
Sarah nodded.
“Oh, that’s my favorite cafe.” Louise lifted the phone off the cradle and proceeded to make a call.
“Who wants some cereal?” Kate asked the children, copying Louise’s enthusiasm.
“Me!” Liam raised his hand.
“No,” Noah countered his big brother, “I want cereal.”
Zoe remained in Sarah’s lap, sucking her thumb. Her nose and cheeks were bright scarlet.
“There’s plenty of cereal for everyone,” Kate said. “Can we all move to the breakfast table, please?”
Kate sighed in relief when the boys did as they were told. She opened the cupboard and grabbed the boxes of Cheerios and Cornflakes. She set a bowl each in front of the boys and asked what they wanted. After she’d filled their bowls, she turned to Zoe. “Do you want to eat anything, honey?”
Zoe buried her head in Sarah’s neck.
Kate felt powerless. She didn’t really know how to look after children. She’d hoped they couldn’t tell just how out of her element she was. She wasn’t made of parent-material. It was just as well that Evan didn’t want children. She shuddered at the thought of the kind of father Evan would make...and the kind of mother she would be.
“Okay,” Louise said as she returned to the kitchen. She set the phone back down in its cradle and turned to them. “Charlotte says that her husband Ben will be here in thirty minutes. They can take the kids for as long as you need.”
Kate was relieved that Louise had taken charge. Had they been in the Philippines, she might have been of more help. She would have been able to offer more solutions. But in Carlton Bay, Kate felt like she was just a child herself. She was as reliant on her husband as the kids were on Sarah.
Being in Carlton Bay—married to Evan—was like depending on her parents all over again. She did whatever Evan told her to do, just as she did with her parents when she was younger. She cried in the bedroom whenever they’d get into an argument, also as she did when she was a teen. And she waited for him to give her money when she needed to buy something—exactly how it was when she was still at school.
Her life, as she knew it, had regressed.
She had regressed.
Chapter 3
Louise Delaney
It broke Louise’s heart to see Sarah waving her children goodbye, but she knew it was for the best—as least for the time being. Charlotte and Ben had two children themselves—twins; so that was a comfort. And it was sweet of Ben to have made the effort of telling Sarah that it would be fun for the children. She hoped he was right.
“Are you ready?” Louise asked Sarah, who’d nodded. She took her by the arm and led her to the house.
Back inside, Louise saw that Kate had begun tidying up. She had unraveled a roll of black trash bags and was walking around tossing things in—used paper plates, plastic cups, candy bar wrappers, loose sheets of drawing paper. It was three weeks’ worth of trash that had piled up. It wasn’t a pretty sight, but she knew better than to make any unnecessary comments.
“I don’t know how to thank you both.” Sarah’s voice trembled as she spoke.
“Well,” Louise said, “let me tell you now that you don’t need to.”
“Sarah, we’re happy to do it,” Kate said. “I’m glad you reached out to us.”
“Why don’t we stop for a break—coffee or tea, maybe?” It was just after noon and Louise could feel the beginnings of a grumbling stomach. “I can make us some sandwiches.”
When the three women sat down to lunch, Louise poured them each a cup of tea.
Sarah picked her cup up. Her hand trembled, causing the tea to spill.
“Are you okay?” Louise asked.
Sarah nodded and replaced the cup on the table. “Just a little tired, I think.”
“Fair enough. You’ve been through a lot.” Louise took a bite of her grilled cheese sandwich. There wasn’t much in the fridge and she’d made a mental note to do some grocery shopping for Sarah. “Eat up.”
“You know, my Auntie Ness had the same thing,” Kate said nodding towards Sarah’s hand which continued to tremble. She dabbed the spilled tea with a napkin. “She was a very stubborn woman. In the Philippines, we have this term—pasma.”
“What does it mean?” Sarah asked.
Kate paused for a moment. “I don’t think there’s a direct translation for it in English, but it has something to do with shakes and tremors. Mostly in the hands. Like, when you work really hard and then you feel like you’re shaking involuntarily. I think you might call it a spasm.”
“So her hands shook because she was stubborn?” Louise asked with a slight amusement in her voice.
Kate chewed thoughtfully. “Stubborn in the sense that she would iron and wash her hands.”
Louise frowned. “She’s stubborn because she ironed laundry and washed her hands? I don’t understand.”
“No, she suffered from pasma because she washed her hands after ironing clothes,” Kate said matter-of-factly, yet with an intonation that made it sound as if she was singing. “I don’t know—I know it sounds weird. Filipinos have a lot of weird beliefs,” she said, waving a hand in front of her.
“What other beliefs do Filipinos have?” Sarah asked with some interest.
Louise was pleased to see Sarah smile, and she could see that encouraged Kate, too.
Kate paused to think. “Oh, I have one!” Kate exclaimed excitedly. “At birthday parties, you always have to serve some kind of noodle dish. Or pasta.”
“Like lasagna?” Louise offered.
Kate shook her head. “It has to be long noodles—like spaghetti.”
“Why’s that?” Sarah asked.
“Because long noodles represent long life.”
“What if you cut the noodles?” Louise asked.
Kate wrinkled her nose. “I don’t know, I never tried it.”
“We didn’t have spaghetti at Adam’s last birthday,” Sarah said quietly.
Kate looked up from her plate, obviously horrified by what she’d said. “Oh, Sarah, I’m so sorry. I mean, it only matters to those who believe it.”
“No, don’t be.” Sarah began to chuckle. “I probably should have cooked more spaghetti,” she said, now laughing.
Louise tried to stifle her laugh, but when Kate began to giggle, there was no way she could keep hers in.
“Too soon for jokes?” Sarah asked, laughing.
Poor Kate couldn’t seem to understand why they were laughing.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be laughing,” Louise apologized. Kate was very sweet, and Louise would hate for her to think that they were making fun of her.
Sarah cleared her through. “Me too—sorry, Kate. We’re not laughing at you.”
“Don’t be sorry. I’m glad to see you laugh,” Kate said.
“And darling,” Louise placed a hand over Sarah’s, “it’s never too soon to start laughing.” Louise had seen more death that she’d wanted to admit. She knew a few people who had been diagnosed w
ith one awful thing or another. It seemed that at her age, there were more people sick than healthy. “It’s certainly better to die having lived a life of laughter, then it is to die having lived a life of pain and worry.”
“I think Adam had lived a good life,” Sarah said wistfully. “We were always laughing.” She wiped the corner of her eye with a napkin. “He was my best friend.”
Louise nodded. “Warren was my best friend too.”
“How old was he when he died?” Kate asked.
“Well, let’s see,” Louise paused. “I’m fifty-nine—”
“You’re fifty-nine?” Kate asked. “Sarah, what about you?”
“I’m forty-one,” Sarah replied.
Kate’s eyes widened. “I thought you might be older than me, but not by so much.”
Sarah laughed again. “What are you, Kate? Twenty? Twenty-one?”
“Twenty-five,” Kate said as she sat up a bit taller.
“It’s the Asian beauty,” Louise said. “You will probably keep your youthful looks years to come.” Louise smiled. These days, at fifty-nine, she was—more often than not—the oldest one at gatherings she attended. When Warren died, she’d found herself lacking in social contact. They’d been married thirty-seven years, and they were each other’s company. Sure, they had friends, but over time, even they’d disappeared. Louise learned that having a loved one die wasn’t the hardest part. It was the after part.
In some twisted way, Warren’s funeral had been a time to catch up and reconnect with people. She hadn’t had time to cry. How could she? Everywhere she turned, there was someone there. Someone telling her how much they had missed her and Warren. Or someone sharing a funny story about her dead husband. It was a day to remember the good times and smile.
So it wasn’t immediately after his death that was difficult. It was after—after everyone had gone and returned to the lives of the living.
The nights were especially difficult for Louise. The number of times she’d unconsciously slid her leg over to Warren’s side of the bed was far too many to count now.
It was the same each time. Expecting his warm body next to her, she would instead be met with a cold, smooth sheet. The empty side of the bed. It made her shiver. Each time reminded her that she was alone. And yet, she did it—over and over again.
Love Me Timeless--A Willow Oaks Sweet Romance Page 16
