Finding Home (27 page)

“You should take Bentley tonight,” Sarah said suddenly, as if remembering that Natalie hadn’t had him all week.

Natalie looked down at the dog, who yawned widely at her.

“Nice,” she said with a laugh. Looking back up at Sarah, she said,

“No, you keep him tonight. He’s all ready for sleeping anyway. I can swing by and grab him tomorrow after work…if that’s okay with you.”

“That works.” Then she asked, “Are you free Friday night?”

“Depends on who wants to know,” Natalie said.

“I do.”

“In that case, yes. I just happen to be free.”

Sarah grinned at the lilting tone as she reached around and opened the door for Natalie. “Well, lucky me.”

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CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Did you shave your legs?” Andrea was lounging on Natalie’s futon, running her Þ ngers through Bentley’s thick, silky fur, squinting at Natalie as she asked the question.

“What?” Natalie made a confused face as she searched the tiny living room for her brown leather mocs.

“Did you shave your legs?” Andrea asked again, this time annunciating each word carefully. “You know you’re going to sleep with her tonight and you don’t want to have stubbly legs.

It’s just yucky.”

Natalie was crouched on the ß oor looking under the futon.

She snapped her head around and glared at her. “Why are you here? Is it just to harass me?”

“Entertaining as that is, no. I told you I’m meeting Mary Beth at SoHo’s and thought I’d stop by Þ rst to say hi to you.”

She nuzzled her face into Bentley’s neck. “And to see my boyfriend.”

“And to give me a hard time.”

“I simply asked if you’d shaved your legs. It’s my job as your best friend to save you from embarrassment that can be easily avoided, that’s all. Just doing my sworn duty.”

“I am
not
sleeping with her tonight.”

Andrea snorted, a sound that made Bentley cock his head in curiosity. “Yeah, okay.”

“You know, not everybody jumps in the sack immediately.”

She’d moved to a chair and was peering under it as she spoke.

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“Um, it’s the twenty-Þ rst century, Natty. Yes, everybody
does
jump in the sack immediately. Where have you been? Under a rock?”

Her arm stretched under the chair as far as it could possibly go, Natalie clamped her Þ ngers around her shoe and pulled it out, pufÞ ng her cheeks out with the effort. As she put it on her foot, she squinted at Andrea. “I don’t get you. You hate Sarah. You’ve always hated Sarah. You’ve tried your best to steer me away from Sarah. And now you’re practically throwing me into her bed.”

Andrea said nothing.

“Why the change of heart?” Natalie asked, standing with her hands on her hips and studying her.

“Maybe I just want you to have a little fun once in a while,”

Andrea said, her voice devoid of any tone of conÞ dence. It made Natalie squint at her some more, trying to Þ gure her out. When it dawned on her, her eyes ß ew open wide.

“You think she’s leaving, don’t you? You think she’s going to take the job, go off to New Zealand and never come back and I’ll be rid of her once and for all, don’t you?” The way Andrea glanced down at her hands told Natalie all she needed to know. “I can’t believe you,” was all she could say.

“You said yourself she hasn’t said she’s not going to take the job,” Andrea said. “Right? She hasn’t said those words, has she?”

“So?”

“So, why not?” Andrea sat up straight and ticked off the list on her Þ ngers. “You went to her house, you poured out your heart, you asked her not to go, and she didn’t respond. Did she?”

Natalie scratched her neck and looked away. “No.”

Andrea grunted a sound that said, “I rest my case,” and sat back.

“It’s a big deal for her, Andrea. She’s not going to make some snap decision just because little ol’ me asked her to stay.

I’m giving her the beneÞ t of the doubt.”

“Uh-huh,” Andrea said, cocking an eyebrow.

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At the smarmy expression, Natalie felt herself Þ lling with sudden anger. “You know what, Andrea? Fuck you. Okay? Just…

fuck you.”

Andrea sighed, obviously realizing that she’d crossed a line.

“Look, Natty, I’m sorry.” She stood up and crossed the room to put a tentative hand on Natalie’s shoulder. Natalie ß inched away from the contact. “I’m not trying to piss you off. I just don’t want you to get hurt. I see you getting all prettied up and I’m worried you have your hopes up and you’ll be let down and I don’t want you to get hurt. All right? I’m just looking out for you.”

“Well, much as I appreciate it,” Natalie snapped, “I’m a big girl. I can look out for myself. Okay?”

“Okay.” Andrea pulled back and held her hands up like she was being robbed. “Fine. Whatever you say.”

Natalie sighed, bothered by the stung look that zipped across Andrea’s face. She had never been good at arguing. She hated it, as a matter of fact, and tended to avoid it at all costs—not the best course of action, it turned out. But arguing with Andrea was the worst. They’d been through too much together in their lives to snipe at one another and cause each other pain.

“I’m sorry,” Natalie said, rubbing at her eye. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped like that. It’s just…” Her voice trailed off and she tried to put her thoughts into words that would make sense. She stepped closer to Andrea and took her hand. “Listen to me. You’ve taught me so much. I’ve learned a
ridiculous
number of life-altering facts from you, my dear.” She smiled fondly and to her great delight, Andrea returned the smile, squeezing her hand. “One of the biggest lessons is never put yourself in a position of having to ask ‘what if.’ And I said that to Sarah when she told me about her job offer overseas. I told her life is too short and she should never pass up an opportunity that might make her ask herself ‘what if’ down the road. But the more I thought about things later, the more I replayed my own words and recalled how much fun I have just…really doing nothing but spending time with her, the more I realized that I need to practice what I preach.

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GEORGIA BEERS

No ‘what ifs,’ Andrea.
You
taught me that. No ‘what ifs.’” She stared hard into Andrea’s eyes, hoping to convey what she was feeling, hoping Andrea understood her need to Þ nd out. If nothing else, to at least
Þ nd out
. To
know
and not feel the need to wonder, years down the line, “
What if I had just asked Sarah to give us a
shot?
” Suddenly, Mrs. Valenti’s words echoed through her head.

“You want? You say. Then? Then you know.”

At that moment, she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she had done the right thing. That she did exactly what she needed to do by asking Sarah to stay, to give them a try instead of waiting to see if it would happen on its own. She’d taken the bull by the horns. She hoped Andrea understood it, too…that even if Sarah got on a plane to New Zealand tomorrow and Natalie never saw her again, she would never have to ask herself, “What if?”

And she’d shaved her legs, just in case.

v

When the doorbell rang, Sarah jumped, then laughed at herself for being so nervous.
Seriously, what is it? I feel like
I’m a teenager. This is ridiculous.
She’d racked her brains over and over trying to Þ gure out exactly what had happened over the past couple of weeks to make her start looking at Natalie from a different perspective, but she’d had no luck. All she knew was that at this particular point in her life, there was nobody else she’d rather spend time with.

Standing on the front step, Natalie sported a big grin, Bentley’s leash in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other.

“Hi.”

“Hey, you.” Sarah’s eyes gave her a quick once-over of their own accord. Sarah couldn’t seem to control them. Natalie wasn’t dressed up per se, but she was wearing nicer clothes than Sarah had ever seen her in before. A feminine and soft-looking pair of khakis was the basis of the outÞ t, belted in dark brown leather.

Her shirt was a deep burgundy, lightweight ribbed turtleneck that

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FINDING HOME

was perfect for the cool autumn weather. Her hair was pulled neatly back off her face, and even the rebellious streak seemed to be making an attempt to behave itself, tucked neatly behind one ear. Modest gold hoops adorned her ears and Sarah thought she looked casually beautiful, like she’d stepped out of an Eddie Bauer catalog and onto her front step. “Come on in,” she said, stepping aside as she realized she was staring. She bent to rufß e Bentley’s ears and unclip his leash.

“I really do love that hair on you,” Natalie said, pointing a Þ nger at Sarah.

As she did every time somebody commented on her new

’do, Sarah raked her Þ ngers through it self-consciously. “Thanks.

I’m getting used to it, I think.”

“It looks great.” Natalie held out the bottle. “Here. I don’t know very much about wine, but I noticed you had this kind on your counter last time I was here.”

Sarah was ß attered that Natalie took note of such a thing.

“Would you like some?”

“Is it good?” Natalie asked with complete innocence.

“No,” Sarah deadpanned. “It’s awful. Total crap.” At Natalie’s stricken look, she laughed and squeezed her upper arm. “I’m kidding. It’s excellent. So you don’t know about wine, huh?”

Natalie’s shoulders dropped a bit as she relaxed. “Not much beyond there being red and white and some is dry and some is sweet. But I like it. I’m willing to learn.”

Finding the thought of playing teacher to Natalie’s student suddenly and alarmingly erotic, Sarah cleared her throat and said,

“Well, I’m no expert, but I’m happy to tell you what I know.”

They fell into a rhythm that seemed more than natural, like they’d been having dinner together for years and years. They worked in tandem, getting dishes served and placed on the dining room table, talking about their respective days at work, simply enjoying one another’s company. Bentley watched them from a spot in the far corner of the kitchen ß oor and seemed more content to Sarah than he had since Karen left. She wasn’t sure what to

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do with that, she only knew that it made her feel oddly restful inside. A strange description, but the right one, and she realized that Natalie seemed to have a similar effect on both of them.

When dinner was Þ nished, Natalie insisted on cleaning up the table and loading the dishwasher, brushing off Sarah’s protests by picking up a glass of wine, taking Sarah by the arm, and dragging her physically to the living room couch.

“Sit right here and talk to me,” she ordered, pushing on Sarah’s shoulder until she sat obediently on the couch. “You’re injured.”

“But it doesn’t even hurt anymore,” Sarah whined, taking the glass Natalie offered.

“You cooked, I clean. Just talk to me. I can see you while I work.”

The open design of Sarah’s kitchen allowed for just such a thing and she let herself sink into the softness of the furniture, coming to the realization that arguing with Natalie and winning was no easy task.

“Dinner was delicious, by the way,” Natalie said from her place behind the sink. “Thanks so much for inviting me.”

“You’re welcome. I’m glad you came. I Þ gure living alone, neither of us eat a regular meal as often as we should.” Sarah brought her wineglass to her lips and said over the rim, “Maybe if we eat together once in a while, we can Þ x that.”

If Natalie caught the innuendo of the statement, she didn’t let on that she had. She continued rinsing dishes and loading them into the dishwasher, her focus on what she was doing.

Then she Þ lled Bentley’s bowl with some chicken scraps she’d brought with her—Sarah assumed she’d gotten them from Mrs.

Valenti again—and added a scoop of cottage cheese from Sarah’s refrigerator. She set the bowl down, bending out of Sarah’s view, and was gone for several seconds. When she stood back up, she reÞ lled her wineglass, took a healthy sip, and looked Sarah straight in the eye from across the room.

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“I’d like that,” she said simply and—Sarah was almost certain—hopefully.

Sarah felt caught in Natalie’s gaze, feeling captured and liking the unfamiliar sensation. “Good,” she said Þ nally. “Because with me not going to New Zealand, I’ll probably want dinner company a little more often.”

Natalie froze, hand in midair, mouth Þ lled with red wine, and stared at her wide-eyed. Forcing the swallow down, she stared some more, before Þ nally asking, “You’re
not
going?”

“No.”

“You’re really not?”

“I’m really not.”

“You turned down the promotion?”

“I did. Today, as a matter of fact.”

“How come?”

Sarah leaned forward and set her wineglass on the coffee table. Then she sat back, stretching her arms out along the back of the couch. She crossed her legs and studied the ceiling as she searched for the right words to describe her thoughts of late.

“Well, there were a lot of factors to consider. It’s a pretty big decision, you know.”

Natalie snorted her agreement.

“I had to decide if the things I would miss were bigger than the things I would gain by being there.”

“What would you have gained?”

“A hefty raise. That was the big thing. A title promotion. I would have been a bigwig in a big company, which is something I always thought I wanted. The chance to live in a completely new place, explore, discover, meet new people, all that stuff.”

“Mmm-hmm.” Natalie nodded. “And what would you have missed?” Sarah saw Natalie’s throat move as she swallowed and looked down at the countertop.

“My family, of course. Bentley.”

“Of course.”

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