Authors: Nancy Adams
“It’s okay. I get it. You’re happy to see me.”
“Yes,” she smiled. “Very.”
Bruce’s lips were curved into a grin. His eyes twinkled and he nodded.
“Tomorrow then. You better get going to pick up Lydia.” Sarah eyed Bruce and crossed her arms.
“It’s Ruth.”
Bruce laughed. “I know that. I was only joking,” he said quickly. Chuckling, Sarah tilted her head as she watched him.
“Did you seriously just forget my daughter’s name?” Bruce laughed harder.
“No, I promise I didn’t. I was trying to be funny.”
“Really?”
“Yes. I guess I failed.”
“What color is her hair?” Sarah pressed.
“That’s not fair,” Bruce defended himself weakly. “She was like three the last time I saw her—hair color changes.” Sarah’s eye twitched.
“What color
was
it?”
“Blonde. Bright blonde,” he replied confidently. Sarah rolled her tongue around in her mouth.
“Okay,” she said with a nod. “I still think you forgot her name though.” Bruce rolled his eyes.
“I saw you nearly every day the entire time you lived on Camp Lejeune. Have faith, Sarah,” he reached out and stroked the bottom of her chin playfully. “So is her hair still blonde?” Sarah grinned and shook her head.
“It’s a little darker. More brownish now, like me.”
Bruce nodded, and then stepped to the side and gestured to her car. “I’d hate for her to be left waiting at school. What grade?”
“Third.”
“Wow.”
“It’s been a long time,” Sarah reached for the car door and pulled. She carried the transmitter in her purse and the doors unlocked automatically when she walked near. Bruce stepped towards the open door. He leaned over the door, casting a shadow over Sarah’s body as she settled into the driver’s seat and drew her seat belt across her chest. She looked up at him and shuddered. It had been a while since a man had stood so close to her. She blinked and caught Bruce’s eyes. He didn’t seem to mind the close proximity and casually looked into her car.
“Your number still the same?” He asked casually, leaning further into the car. Sarah cleared her though and clawed at her neck finically.
“Um, yes. My cell?” Bruce nodded and Sarah forced a chuckle. “Yes, same old thing as always.”
“Good,” Bruce grinned. “I’ll call or text if anything changes,” he paused and looked over Sarah’s face, but she just gripped the steering wheel and stared back at him with wide eyes. “Well, Sarah, tomorrow then,” he nodded at her with finality. “Brunch.”
“Brunch it is,” Sarah giggled and stiffened as Bruce reached towards her face and touched her cheek. He gave her a gentle stroke and smirked before he stepped back and placed his hands on his waist.
“See you tomorrow,” he held up a hand and smiled.
Sarah closed her car door and wiggled her fingers at Bruce as she started the car and began to back out the parking space. She tried to ignore him, but found herself watching him from the rearview mirror. Her lengthy gaze almost ran her into the curb. She corrected just in time and cleared her throat. Her face rushed with heat, but her mind was still blank.
As she drove away, she tried to clear her mind. She reached for the radio dials and quickly turned it on. A soothing trance beat filled the interior of the luxury sedan, and finally gave her mind something to hold onto other than the last image she caught of Bruce’s strong body watching her pull away.
The Struggle
In typical Ruth fashion, Sarah caught her waiting with her head in a book along the concrete stone squares that lined the pathway to the front of the building. She turned into the car lane that lined the curb and patiently waited her turn. Picking up children from school was always a frenzy. She hated the over rushed parents trying to zip around for a closer spot to the golden pick up zone. Today, however, the impatient sighs and hard faces barely even fazed her.
She had a bubble of happiness sprouting in her gut and couldn’t stop grinning. Ruth noticed her immediately and jumped forward to wait her turn in line. Within time, roughly five minutes, Sarah was at the head of line and Ruth quickly climbed into the back seat. She caught her mother’s face and smiled.
“Something great happen today?” Ruth asked curiously.
Sarah shook her head. “Why do you ask?”
“Your smile. It’s gigantic,” Ruth grinned. She always loved trying out new words and vocabulary. Sarah was certain her daughter was going to grow up to be a fine writer one day, or editor at the very least.”
“Oh, is it?” Sarah tried to shake away the feeling, but it lingered heavily and even grew. “I just had a good visitor today.”
“At the shop?” Ruth had finally buckled herself in. Still slow. Was there a rule that made children move so slow? Sarah frowned at the thought and put the car in drive.
“Yes. An old friend,” she paused and glanced at her daughter from the rear view mirror. “Maybe you remember him? Remember Bruce?”
Ruth frowned and shook her head. After a while, she looked forward and took a breath. “From pictures?”
“Yes. He’s in some pictures of you when you were younger.”
“When Dad was still around,” Ruth added. Sarah’s eyes dropped and she faced the road.
Yes, when Dad was still around
…
“Is he still at the shop?” Ruth asked casually, she had drawn her legs into the seat and was opening her book again.
“No,” Sarah said, swallowing back the giddiness that had risen. “Anyway, how was school?” She tried to change the subject, but as she did, Ruth sighed and lifted her book. She gave her mother a stern stare before she lowered her eyes to the pages of the book.
Wrinkling her nose, Sarah frowned and gave the road her full attention. Ruth was only eight. She wondered where the girl got her spunk from. She was a great daughter, mild-mannered and rarely gave her trouble, but goodness if she didn’t have an attitude.
Back at the shop, Ruth settled down into her familiar nook, a padded beanbag near one of the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the greenery just in front of the lake. A passing speedboat zipped through the calm water and left a rippling wake behind. Ruth stared out the window silently with headphones in her ear and her iPOD blasting one of her favorite playlists.
From the serving counter, Sarah watched Ruth quietly. She remembered her daughter as the quirky little baby that always questioned everything. That curiosity had come and gone. Perhaps her books answered the questions for her. Maybe she didn’t need her mother anymore.
“Hey,” the voice came from behind her, “who was the hunk that stopped in to see you earlier?”
Sarah grinned and turned to meet her friend, a young twenty-something college student who worked late afternoons while she studied physics at the university in the morning.
“No one, Becky,” Sarah said with a grin she couldn’t hide. The college student pursed her lips and looked Sarah over with skepticism.
“Well, no one was pretty hot.”
Sarah laughed and waved a napkin in Becky’s face. “He’s an old friend.” She laughed even harder when Becky’s eyes bulged.
“You were friends with
that
?”
“Was,” Sarah corrected. “And, he wasn’t really my friend,” she locked hair behind her ears and stole another glance towards her daughter. “When I lived in South Carolina he was friends with my husband.”
Can I still call him that?
Becky became somber quickly and nodded. “So sorry,” she whispered. “Nice of him to drop by though,” she tried to ease the conversation to a lighter subject. “Does he live near?”
Sarah shook her head. “I don’t think so. He said he was going to be in Nashville for the night. He asked me to dinner,” she tacked on, and then looked at Becky directly. The young woman’s eyes widened.
“For a date or to catch up?” Becky asked quickly.
“I don’t know,” Sarah admitted. “I can’t do dinner though because of Ruth.”
“Oh, that’s right,” Becky snapped her fingers and frowned.
“We’re doing lunch instead. Well, brunch,” Sarah giggled. Becky nodded with understanding.
“So, what do you want it to be?”
“Excuse me?”
“A date or just a catch up?”
Sarah giggled and shook her head. “Why don’t you ever stop?”
“Because you’re a beautiful woman who needs a man in your life.”
Sarah quickly held up a finger. “I don’t
need
anyone,” she stressed quickly, suddenly serious. “The least of which, a man.”
Becky swallowed and stepped back from the counter with a hand on her chest. “Well, excuse me,” she corrected herself, and then began adjusting the materials behind the counter. A second worker manning the cashier stepped to the right of Becky and placed a specialty drink overflowing with whipped cream and a drizzle of chocolate syrup on the countertop.
“Chris,” she called out. When a man waiting beside the trashcans to the right of the serving counter stepped forward, the worker retreated back to the cash register, but not before they eyed Becky with pursed lips.
“You better get back to work,” Sarah whispered.
“You’re the boss,” Becky answered back quickly. She began to step away, but then suddenly turned back to Sarah. “Regardless of how you feel you
don’t
need a man, I think you should treat this as a date, okay?” She nodded eagerly and then turned to join the second worker.
Sarah watched Becky for a moment longer before she retreated back to her perch in the southeast corner of the store. She wasn’t going to think about whether or not Becky was right. Bruce was just an old friend. Her husband’s old friend. Seeing him only reminded her of Adam. Didn’t it? Not really, actually.
Frowning, Sarah pulled her bag of crocheting supplies towards her and stared at them quietly. Seeing Bruce had actually felt somewhat nice. It had been years since they had last communicated. Two or three; she had honestly forgotten how many. They had just fallen out of touch, as many people do.
She wasn’t even sure that she expected them to stay in touch, but seeing him made her feel…well, it made her feel. She wasn’t sure what, but it was nice. She left the shop two hours later. Being seen in the evening crocheting goodies that could later be sold built a buzz about the type of products that would soon be available. Some people often tried to call dibs on her work. It was all just a clever ploy to give her something to do in the evening while feeling productive at the same time.
Sarah left the shop with her daughter just as the sun was starting to dip behind the trees. Rays bathed the ground with golden hues of evening sunlight that filtered into the shop in warm tones. She absolutely loved the location of her business. It was another successful day.
Sarah left with little orders to the evening crew. They knew how to shut down and lock up. Ruth followed behind Sarah quietly, having managed to close her book, but she remained quiet on the drive home.
“Did you get something to eat before we left?” Sarah asked, trying to fill the silence.
“Same thing I always get,” Ruth answered back. She pulled her seat belt on and leaned against the glass.
“The hamburger and chips,” Sarah grumbled. She eyed her daughter through the mirror and frowned. “You know, you don’t talk much,” Sarah tried again. She watched as her daughter shrugged carelessly. Ruth kept her eyes glued to the glass.
Wiping at the bottom of her nose, Sarah looked away and clenched her jaw. “Do you need anything when we get home?”
“Just a shower.”
“Will you need help with your hair?”
Ruth laughed and turned towards her mother. “You’re joking, right?”
Sarah grinned. “I got you though,” she said playfully. She hadn’t been joking though. She wasn’t sure when her daughter had become so independent and withdrawn. When she was younger, she always told herself that just a little while longer and things would be okay. And then one day, a little while longer came, and the Ruth sitting in her backseat had snuck in and replaced the easygoing Ruth she had used to know.
She missed the daughter that talked about the trees, the flowers, and the ants. She missed the daughter that found conversation in the same cup that had been sitting on the edge of the countertop from the night before. Sarah wondered if her daughter would have changed if Adam had still been there.
She didn’t think it was normal to be so quiet and reserved. Other moms had told her it was just a phase. She wasn’t so sure though. She didn’t have many mother friends, just Tina’s parents and they were really more like acquaintances. Something just didn’t feel right being a single parent in a group of married couples. She didn’t fit in with them anymore, nor did she belong to the group of single women.
Women like Becky didn’t have the same responsibilities, but thankfully, with only one child, it didn’t seem to keep her from making a decent friend.
The evening went painfully ordinary. She selected something to watch through Netflix while Ruth retreated to her room. She felt asleep on the couch, something that happened often. She woke around midnight, completely awake, but too tired to move or do anything productive, so she simply lay in bed thinking.
This was the part of the night she hated. The part where everyone who could keep her company, mainly Becky, was asleep and she was all alone. Sarah let out a sigh and thought of her lunch date with Bruce. Wait a minute, it wasn’t a date. They were just going to catch up…right? Still, just thinking of Bruce made her smile.
“He’s just passing through though,” Sarah spoke aloud. She groaned and pushed herself to sit up. She missed the days where she was so tired that fatigue carried her through the night. Most nights, she sat up at the same hour. Wide awake and yet tired at the same time.
After another fifteen minutes of empty thinking in circles around the same subject, Bruce, Sarah managed to gather the energy to rise. She moved herself to the jet bath and began to fill it. This was her quality time late at night, a soaking bath that wrinkled her skin and left her flesh hot.
It was a great way to pass two hours doing nothing productive and afterwards, she was usually tired enough to fall asleep again. This night was no different and after she lifted herself from the tub, let the water out and dressed for bed, she moved to her room and sank into her bed.
She didn’t bother glancing at the time on clock. The alarm was already set and she knew from experience that it was probably around 3 am. Sarah closed her eyes and welcomed the covers over her body in the stillness of the house. Within a few minutes, sleep had come to reclaim her.
The morning found her waking up five minutes before her alarm sounded. Typical. She rose warily and started about her routine. The kink came when it was time to get dressed. She stared at her closet and thought of Bruce. Should she dress like she normally did? Casual business wear, some slacks and a shirt? Or should she spruce it up a bit with a dress?
Goodness, Sarah, it’s not a date
. She wanted to reach for a blouse, but instead, she grabbed a cute sundress, a red poka-dot v-neck with a wraparound front and bunch at the hip with a faux belt design. Granted, it was a little uppity, but Bruce wouldn’t know that she picked a dress for him.
She grabbed it and stepped into it gingerly. In the mirror, she plugged in her curling iron and eyed her hair. At work, she normally pulled it back into a loose ponytail. She wanted to wear it differently today—but not because of Bruce…
Sarah wet her hands beneath the faucet and ran it through her hair to get it damp. Afterwards, she applied some product and then reached for the curling iron. Her eyes caught sight of the time. 7:53. She hadn’t even checked on her daughter, not since she had left the kitchen from watching the news.
Sarah glanced at herself in the mirror. She really needed to check on Ruth, but she wasn’t finished with her hair. She lifted the curling iron and set out to work. Ten minutes later, her hair was flawless, a flowing cascade of silk that ended mid back. Someone was sure to see the difference, but she didn’t care. This was technically her first date with a man in two years.
But this isn’t a date
…she reminded herself quickly.
She pushed the budding thoughts aside and left her room. In the hallway, there was silence. Her house was built on a tiered half flooring plan, with a den half a floor beneath the main floor which held the kitchen and living rooming. The bedrooms were located on the top half floor. Leaving her room, Sarah passed by Ruth’s door and knocked.
“Ruth, are you in there?”
“Down here, Mom,” Ruth answered back.
Sarah moved to the edge of the short set of steps and spied her daughter drinking a glass of orange juice by the countertop in the kitchen. She was completely dressed with her shoes on.