Finding Home (11 page)

Bentley, however, seemed like any other dog she might run into in the park—friendly, wanting to be petted, hoping she’d throw the ball for him. She couldn’t tell if maybe he actually knew

• 90 •

FINDING HOME

who she was but was too caught up in the ball game to give her a proper hello. The thought depressed her and she felt deß ated.

She rufß ed his fur, then picked up the ball and hurled it, unable to bear looking at his adorable face, not wanting to continue wondering. Natalie was watching her carefully, obviously trying to Þ gure her out.

“Maybe I should just go,” she said softly, tearing her gaze from the hold Natalie seemed to have on her.

“Overseas where?” Natalie asked as Bentley skidded to a halt and dropped the ball at her feet.

“Excuse me?”

“Andrea said you were overseas.” She threw the ball an impressive distance.

Sarah nodded in recognition. “Ah. Andrea. The girlfriend.”

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

“No? She certainly protected you like one.” The snippiness crept in before Sarah realized it.

“She loves me.” At Sarah’s raised eyebrow, Natalie stumbled on, trying for an explanation. “Like a sister. She loves me like a sister. I don’t have a girlfriend.”

Sarah couldn’t help the small grin that appeared because the look on Natalie’s face very clearly said she’d revealed something by accident. She looked almost mortiÞ ed, and Sarah’s satisfaction at having the upper hand lasted all of four seconds. Then she wanted to make Natalie feel better, so she said, “I don’t have one, either.” And then she was annoyed at herself.
I shouldn’t be
making her feel better.

“And your ex is getting married.” Sarah whipped her head around to glare at Natalie, who had the good sense to look chagrined. “You mentioned it last night.”

“Yeah, well, it’s none of your business and I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Fine.”

• 91 •

GEORGIA BEERS

By unspoken agreement, they’d begun to walk the perimeter of the large Þ eld, Bentley alternately chasing the ball, bringing it back, and following next to Natalie.

“So,” Natalie said as they strolled. “Overseas where?”

Apparently, not talking wasn’t an option for her. Sarah answered grudgingly. “New Zealand.”

“Really?” The hazel of her eyes twinkled merrily as Natalie looked up at her. “Wow. That’s amazing. I’d love to go there someday. What was it like?”

Sarah found herself torn. She didn’t want to be talking to this woman. This woman was a thief as far as she was concerned and didn’t deserve the time of day from her. At the same time, there was something about her, something that drew Sarah, something she had no intention of exploring or thinking about, so answering the questions was probably the best way to keep the weirdness at bay. She took a deep breath, then blew it out loudly before speaking, making it clear that she didn’t really want to be talking in some friendly, hey-look-at-us-we’re-pals kind of way. Not to Natalie.

“It was nice.”

The grimace on Natalie’s face was followed by the narrowing of her eyes, as if she’d been issued a challenge by Sarah’s lame description. She picked up the ball and threw it for Bentley.

“What was nice about it?”

Sarah shot a glare her way. “It’s a cool country. Very similar, but very different.”

Obviously still not satisÞ ed, Natalie tried a different tack.

“You were there for work?”

“Yep.”

“What do you do?”

“I work.” Unnecessarily snotty, Sarah knew, but she couldn’t help it.

“I see.” Natalie didn’t miss a beat, didn’t ß inch at the insulting tone, and didn’t take the hint and stop with the questions. She

• 92 •

FINDING HOME

kept right on as if they were two old friends having a chat. “What were the New Zealanders like?”

“Kiwis.”

“They were like kiwis?”

“No, that’s what they call themselves. Kiwis. Not New Zealanders. A Kiwi is a bird.”

“Oh. Well, what were they like?”

“Nice.”

“Nice?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Friendly?”

“Yep.”

“What about the food?”

“Not bad.”

“The coffee?”

“
Strong
.” Natalie laughed at that, a sound Sarah loved, then immediately became annoyed by.
No laughing. I should not be
making you laugh. I don’t like you, remember?

“How was the weather?”

“Starting to cool. It was their fall.”

“Did you get much chance to explore? Or did you work the whole time?”

“I wandered a little, but it was mostly work.”

“That’s too bad. Did you see anything cool? Go to any fun bars or anything? Meet any interesting people?”

Feeling suddenly and inexplicably uncomfortable by the line of questioning, Sarah made a show of looking at her watch.

“Wow, is it that late? I need to get going.”

“But it’s barely eight o’clock in the morning.”

“I have somewhere to be.” Unnecessarily snotty yet again.

“Oh.” Was she mistaken or did Natalie sound disappointed?

“Okay.”

“Um…” Sarah squatted down to pet Bentley, who was panting like crazy and didn’t seem at all affected by any of this.

• 93 •

GEORGIA BEERS

He was all about the ball. It was news to her that he liked this game so much, and the thought made her sad. She glanced up at Natalie, who was watching her closely, and had no idea what to say to her. She wanted to hate her, wanted to glare and be angry and spit and swear and yet somehow, she just didn’t have the energy. To add insult to injury—and much to her own horror—

she felt tears suddenly spring into her eyes
. Jesus Christ, what is
happening to me?
Dropping a quick kiss on the top of Bentley’s head, she muttered, “I’ve got to go.”

She heard Natalie call out from behind her, asking if she was okay as she nearly ran back to the trail and stomped into the trees like some jilted lover from a romantic comedy. Her heart was pounding like a jackhammer and she couldn’t seem to catch her breath, but that didn’t stop her. When she reached the car, she didn’t even pause to collect herself. She keyed the ignition, slammed it into gear, and streaked home as fast as possible, feeling like something she couldn’t name—her past? her fears?

her self-doubt?—was chasing her and any second now would have her in its cold and unforgiving grip forever.

• 94 •

FINDING HOME

CHAPTER NINE

I feel bad for her. I can’t help it.”

“Why on earth do you feel bad for her?” Andrea was clearly annoyed, still trying to absorb the news that Natalie had actually met with Sarah in the park that morning.

“I don’t know. I just do.” Natalie took a sip of her Diet Coke and watched the people below. The biggest perk to living in her bitty apartment above Valenti’s was this, the tiny square of rooftop to which she had full access. All summer long and through much of the fall, Natalie and Andrea sat in lounge chairs, ice-stuffed cooler between them, and watched the neighborhood go by. The thermometer reading of ninety-three degrees had prompted her to leave Chino in the coolness of the air-conditioned apartment, which he didn’t seem to mind, given that he was completely wiped out from their morning in the park and was currently napping on the futon. “She just seemed so…sad.”

“Maybe we should put some rum into that Coke, huh?”

Andrea made a swipe at the can.

“Why?” Natalie held the drink out of Andrea’s reach. “Why is it so appalling that I feel sorry for her?”

“Because she’s trying to take your dog away, Natty.”

“She’s trying to get her own dog back, Andrea. Big difference.”

Andrea shook her head in frustration.

• 95 •

GEORGIA BEERS

“She called him Bentley,” Natalie said softly.

“Well, that’s a stupid name.”

“He did seem to know her.”

“But he didn’t go with her.”

“No.”

“See? He’s happy with you. He wants to stay with you.”

“I think she’s lonely.” Natalie gazed off into the bright blue of the sky, remembering the faraway, cheerless expression on Sarah’s face, trying to put a name on it. Turning to Andrea, she continued. “I mean, think about it. She’s gone overseas for work for God knows how long. She probably didn’t know anybody there. She comes home to what I can only assume is an empty house. Her ex tells her she’s getting married. And while she was gone, her dog disappeared. She’s got nothing and nobody to keep her company. How could she not be lonely?”

Andrea stared at her, a combination of admiration and frustration clearly etched across her face. “That is your blessing and your curse, you know that, right?”

“What is?”

“Your damn compassion.”

Natalie shrugged.

“Wish I had a fraction of it,” Andrea muttered, only half-jokingly. “Wish
everybody
had a fraction of it. The world would be a better place.”

“I should just give him back to her.”

“What?” Andrea sat up and swung her feet off the lounge so she was facing Natalie. “No. No, you shouldn’t. Are you crazy?

First of all, just because this Sarah chick might be lonely, that doesn’t mean she’s good to him. You know? Do I have to remind you yet again what kind of shape he was in when you found him?”

Natalie shook her head just once while studying her own lap.

“Somebody caused that. Let’s not forget that little fact, okay?

• 96 •

FINDING HOME

Second of all, you love him. And he loves you. He’s happy here.

Do you
want
to lose him?”

“No, of course not.”

“Then leave it alone.” Andrea returned to her lounging position and lay back, closing her eyes against the sunshine.

“You did a nice thing today, allowing her to join you guys on your walk. Now let it go.”

Natalie lay back, too, feeling the heavy burden of indecision weighing her down, the only clear thought in her head not something that was much help at all:
I have no idea what to do.

v

Raking along the edges of her parents’ yard, Sarah couldn’t help but compare the jumbled mess of grass clippings, leaves, and twigs to the mixed-up mess that was rolling around in her own head. Feeling this out of sorts was not something she was used to, nor did she like it. As a matter of fact, it was pissing her off, and she took her anger out on the unsuspecting lawn, raking it to within an inch of its life.

Yard work was something she enjoyed, found cathartic, but rarely had time for, given her busy work schedule. Thus, she’d purchased a townhouse so she wouldn’t have to be bothered with normal outdoor upkeep. Every now and then, however, she felt the urge to rake or mow or plant or dig just to help work out whatever was clogging up her brain. Her parents were more than happy to accommodate her with their own yard. Plus, her father wasn’t getting any younger, and any strenuous work she could take off his shoulders made her feel like she was helping out at least a little bit.

She’d told her parents about Karen’s message, and she’d even managed to do it without bursting into a raging river of tears, which she half expected to happen. Her father had pulled her into a hug—which had almost started the waterworks for

• 97 •

GEORGIA BEERS

her—and as she glanced at her mother over his shoulder, she saw only one thing on her face: relief. Mary Buchanan was not the kind of woman who could hide her feelings. Sarah’s father often playfully accused her of being made of Lucite—strong, but see-through—because whatever was going on in her head was clearly visible on her face. At that moment, relief was the most apparent emotion there and Sarah Þ nally understood why. She swore she could almost hear her mother’s voice in her head.

Maybe now she can get on with her life.

Sarah’s reactions to that realization were mixed. At Þ rst, she was angry, which seemed to be the only sentiment she was capable of lately, and frankly, one she was tired of. Then the guilt set in. She hadn’t really taken the time to see how worried her mother had been about her since Karen’s departure, and she felt sort of stupid about that. Her mother was nothing if not a worrier.

She’d been known to worry about things that had nothing at all to do with her, and Sarah suddenly found herself embarrassed it had never crossed her mind that her depression and inability to pull herself out of this slump might be weighing as heavily on her mother as it was on her.

Now she found herself feeling almost indifferent, and that was the weirdest sensation of all. If she let herself dwell—something that, in general, she worked very hard
not
to do—she’d realize that the ambiguity was akin to giving up, throwing in the towel, calling it quits. On everything. Life, love, any kind of concern at all. Her shoulders slumped as she raked, and she blew out a breath heavy with frustration and emotional exhaustion.

Fine. Whatever. I don’t care anymore. I’m just tired of
feeling everything in such extremes. I really didn’t think wishing
for a normal life where everything’s
not
falling apart at once was
asking for too much. Apparently, I was wrong.

Pushing thoughts of Karen from her mind somehow only allowed space for Natalie Fox to squeeze in.
From one pain to
another. TerriÞ c.

Why did she have to be so nice? That was the unanswerable

• 98 •

FINDING HOME

question that popped into Sarah’s head immediately. She ß ashed back to walking in the park, to Natalie trying her very best to engage Sarah in some kind of conversation, of her refusal to be deterred by Sarah’s refusal to participate. Almost smiling about it, Sarah knew she never would have tried that hard had the roles been reversed. She just would have walked along quietly, deciding she wasn’t going to waste her breath if Natalie didn’t Þ nd her good enough to talk to. But Natalie was obviously much stronger, much more determined than Sarah. She deÞ nitely got an A for effort, that was for sure.