Dakota Love (29 page)

“But he didn’t cancel after he found out.” Sarah whispered her response as she remembered Mark’s strange reaction. Was he wondering how he could retract his offer of a date instead of thinking about his mom? That couldn’t be, because he’d been texting her all week, telling her how much he was looking forward to Sunday afternoon.

Sarah mustered all her bravado. She cleared her throat and sat up straighter. “He didn’t cancel after he found out.” This time she said the words with certainty. “As a matter of fact, he sent me a text yesterday, telling me how much he’s looking forward to it.”

“Okay, so he’s not a jerk. He’ll go through with this date. Then what? Are you really going to want to continue with quilting class or be on his walking team when he doesn’t want to see you on a personal level anymore?”

Karla reached for Sarah’s hand, but Sarah yanked it away and rested it in her lap. How could she make them understand that she wanted to live, no,
needed
to live as normal a life as possible? She looked down at her Job’s Tears quilt blocks. Like Job, she’d cried out in anger to God after her diagnosis, but since she’d found the quilt shop and Mark, her anger concerning her MS disappeared.

She couldn’t let them rob her of the good in her life. In time she’d prove them wrong. Mark wasn’t the shallow type, she could tell. Sarah drew a deep breath, but before she could answer, her cell phone rang.

“Excuse me.” Sarah jumped from her seat. Happiness inflated her chest as “You’ve Got a Friend,” the tune she’d assigned to Mark, cut through the tense silence in the room. Sarah ran for her purse, glad for the distraction from the conversation.

“Hello, Mark.” Joy softened Sarah’s voice as she flashed a triumphant smile toward the table.

“Hi, Sarah.”

The edge in Mark’s voice told her bad news would follow.

“I’m sorry to do this on such short notice, but I have to break our date.”

A
fter church Sarah changed into her gray yoga pants and matching gray-and-pink T-shirt and settled on the couch to work on her Job’s Tears quilt blocks. She spread the contents from her tote bag onto the adjoining cushion for easy access. Holding a block, she maneuvered the seam ripper through the machine stitching on the seams, cutting the small stitches and being careful not to tear the fabric. The one thing her mom and Karla had been right about yesterday was that the hand-sewn blocks looked much better.

They weren’t right about Mark, though. He had a good reason for canceling their date this afternoon. One of his two part-time clerks quit without prior notice. He had to cover her shift. After his call, Sarah had found it hard to swallow her disappointment. She’d managed to keep her voice light and her answers generic until her mom and Karla said their good-byes.

The last thing she needed to hear from Karla yesterday was “I told you so.” Her friend had planted enough doubts that, at first, Sarah worried that Mark was trying to get out of their date. But the more she thought about it, the more she realized her concern was unfounded. She dropped by the store often enough and spent enough time with Mark that if he were lying, she was fairly confident she’d pick up on it. Besides, he’d insisted that they reschedule as soon as he could get a new work schedule in place.

Sarah smoothed out the loose pieces of fabric before pinning the edge together. She threaded her needle then inserted it into the cloth. Her hand sewing showed improvement despite some faint numbness in her upper arm.

The rhythmic movement caused her mind to wander to the verse from Ecclesiastes the lector read in church this morning.
“When times are good, be happy; but when times are bad, consider this: God has made the one as well as the other. Therefore, no one can discover anything about their future.”

She wished her mother and Karla had attended this morning’s service at Sarah’s small country church. Then they’d see the goal she was striving for in her life—acceptance that God was in control. Right now she was happy, unlike a few months ago. Her life seemed full of hope again since meeting Mark, starting a new job, and finding a hobby. Sarah didn’t know if Mark was a permanent fixture in her future. She hoped and prayed he was, but only God knew for certain.

Engrossed in her sewing, she jumped when the doorbell rang.

“Ouch!” Sarah dropped her sewing. As she walked to the front door, she rubbed the finger she’d poked with the needle. She hoped this wasn’t a surprise visit from Karla. She wasn’t up to another conversation like yesterday’s.

She peeked out the window and saw a florist delivery van parked behind her car. Sarah opened the door.

“Are you Sarah Buckley?”

“Yes.”

“These are for you.” The teenage delivery boy shoved a vase of cut flowers toward her then turned. “Have a great day,” he called over his shoulder.

Sarah balanced the heavy glass vase against her side as she closed her door. The sweet scent of irises delighted her nose. She set the large vase on the end table and admired the spring bouquet of daisies, irises, tulips, and crocuses. Slipping the card from the plastic holder, she dipped her nose into the arrangement and inhaled the flowers’ bouquet. Was this her mom’s or Karla’s way of saying, “I’m sorry”?

Sarah opened the envelope and read the card.

Happiness fluttered through Sarah, forcing out a giggle. She read the card again and savored the joyous feeling. She knew she was right about Mark. A man who wasn’t interested would never send a girl flowers.

She removed an African violet from the stand in front of the picture window and set the plant on the floor. She placed the flowers on the mosaic-topped stand that was right in her line of vision from the sofa where she planned to be the remainder of the afternoon, sewing quilt blocks.

Sarah lifted her cell phone from the end table and sat down cross-legged on the couch. She nervously fingered a throw pillow with one hand as she hit the programmed number in her cell phone. She smiled as the connection began to ring. She definitely hoped God included Mark in her future.

The tissue paper Sarah wrapped around her flowers to protect them in the car worked. Not one flower petal was broken or missing. As she stood back and admired the bouquet sitting on the corner of her desk, she shivered with giddiness.

“Hoo-wee, someone’s been a good girl.” Ashley strode up behind her then whistled. “That’s one beautiful bouquet.”

“You won’t get an argument from me.” Sarah giggled.

“Tell Mark he did good.”

“How did you know he sent them? I haven’t shown you the card yet.”

“Sarah, where Mark’s concerned you haven’t a poker face.”

Sarah shrugged and giggled again. She reveled in the lighter-than-air feeling.

“Judging by the flowers, I can tell he’s just as smitten with you as you are with him.” Ashley squeezed Sarah’s shoulders.

Surprised by the happy tears that welled in her eyes, Sarah swiped away the moisture with the back of her knuckle. It felt so good to have someone share her happiness about her relationship.

“Let’s get some coffee, and you can tell me all about your date.”

Ashley headed for the adjoining room. Sarah grabbed her cup and inhaled deeply as she passed her flowers. The spring fragrance tickled her senses. Mark’s gesture delighted her heart.

Sarah held her cup steady while Ashley poured.

“So spill it.” Ashley set the carafe on the warming element.

Ashley pulled a face when she saw Sarah pretending to spill her coffee. “I didn’t mean that and you know it. Tell me about your date.”

Sarah sipped her coffee. “There’s nothing to tell.”

“What?” Ashley frowned and looked out toward the flowers.

“One of Mark’s employees quit with no notice. He had to cover the shift. The bouquet is part of his apology for canceling our date, and he promised to reschedule, so…” Sarah zigzagged her fingers over the textured surface of her gold-toned earring. “I’m sure he really does want to date me.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Ashley’s frown deepened. “Of course he wants to date you—he asked you out.”

It took a minute for Sarah to realize exactly what she said. She waved her hand in the air. “Well, my mom and friend seem to think now that Mark knows I have—” She stopped. She’d never told Ashley that she, Sarah, had MS.

She cleared her throat. “Ashley, I have multiple sclerosis. The people closest to me seem to think now that Mark knows my medical condition, he won’t want to date me.”

“Really? Why would that make a difference? Don’t they want you to be happy? I don’t understand that line of thinking at all.” Ashley slipped down into a chair by the break room table. Her nostrils flared and, as she frowned, deeper creases lined her forehead. She seemed to have skipped right past Sarah’s illness to anger in defending Sarah’s rights.

Sarah furrowed her brow. “You think it wouldn’t make a difference to a man if a woman were sick. If he wanted to date her, he would.”

“Absolutely. Don’t they trust your judgment in men?”

They didn’t, and Sarah couldn’t blame them. They’d helped her pick up the pieces once. Sarah swallowed hard in an attempt to clear her throat of the bitter pill of past mistakes as she responded to Ashley’s question with a slight shake of the head.

“Besides, you look healthy. What does having MS mean, exactly?” Ashley gave Sarah a once-over before taking a drink of her coffee.

“Right now, it means that I lose muscle control in my right arm from time to time. Lots of things can bring on an attack, like the weather, stress, or fatigue. When that happens, I go get a steroid shot and the symptoms usually clear right up.”

“Here’s to modern medicine and a hope for a cure.” Ashley held her travel mug up.

Sarah lightly tapped it with her coffee mug in agreement with the toast. “Speaking of that, I’m taking part in the MS walk. I have a sign-up sheet at my desk if you’d like to sponsor me.”

“Sure.”

Ashley followed Sarah into the office area. As Ashley wrote down her pledge, the office door opened.

Sarah looked up, ready to give her pat “good morning” or “may I help you.” Her heart fluttered. “Mark! What are you doing here?”

Dressed in blue jeans and the green polo shirt that emphasized the emerald flecks in his eyes, Mark held up a box of doughnuts. “Peace offering.”

After polite introductions and small talk, Sarah’s tenant excused herself.

“I won’t get you into trouble just stopping by, will I?” Mark hadn’t realized how much he’d looked forward to his date with Sarah until she’d called to thank him for the flowers.

Sarah shrugged. “My bosses are located in the downtown office, and I’m supposed to get breaks, but I usually work through them. Sometimes my lunch, too, so I think I can take a short break now.”

Mark wrinkled his brow. Sarah should take her breaks if for no other reason than to ward away the fatigue that accompanied MS.

She started across the room and waved for Mark to follow along.

He hadn’t expected such a formal office. The plush carpet and bulky cherrywood desk screamed dignified. No wonder Sarah’s attire was always accessorized and polished.

Today was no different. A lavender linen jacket topped her floral-print dress with a formfitting skirt. The back slit in the skirt might have been designed for easier movement, but it showcased Sarah’s slender, shapely calves. Her spike-heeled sandals, a shade darker than the jacket, added at least three inches to her height.

“Are you coming?” Sarah peeked around the door.

Mark entered the long room. A stark contrast to Sarah’s office area, the office machine room that appeared to double as a break room was decorated in white-and-gray run-of-the-mill counters and clapboard cupboards. He set the doughnuts on the white plastic-topped folding table.

“You look lovely today. You do justice to every color you wear.” Mark took the cup of steaming liquid she offered, savoring the flush that deepened the color of Sarah’s cheeks.

“Thank you.” Sarah’s black eyes glistened. “Why did you call the doughnuts a peace offering? I’m not angry with you.”