Finding Home (3 page)

“So you cross that bridge when you come to it, right?”

“Right.” Changing the subject, Andrea reached across the table, caught a lock of Natalie’s hair on her Þ nger, and tugged gently. “Your pink is fading.”

“I know. I’ve got an appointment next week for a trim. I’ll have Jocelyn re-dye it for me.”

The warm, comforting smell of cinnamon suddenly blanketed the air and both women lifted their heads slightly, taking in the scent almost unintentionally.

“Cinnamon rolls are done,” Andrea said needlessly.

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GEORGIA BEERS

“God, I never get tired of that smell.”

“So, what about you, Natty?”

Natalie propped her chin in her hand. “What about me?”

“When are you going to do some dating? It’s really not fair for me to be the only one going through the torture, you know.”

“Solidarity, huh?”

“Absolutely. Tommy and Jenny have somebody they want to set you up with.”

“I know.” They were teachers at the school where Andrea taught…the school where Natalie used to teach until she’d had enough of the political bullshit and threw in the towel.

“And?”

“God, you’re pushy.”

Andrea winked. “Some say it’s one of my better qualities.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not one of those people.” Natalie couldn’t help but grin, though. She and Andrea had been best friends since high school and knew each other better than anybody else. Deep down, she knew Andrea was simply worried that Natalie was lonely.

“Are you at least thinking about it? Tommy says she’s a hottie. And you know how picky Tommy is.”

“Yes, Andrea, I’m thinking about it.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.” Natalie recalled the voicemail message Tommy had left her a couple of weeks ago, his voice plotting and the tiniest bit seductive as he rambled on about his cousin’s lesbian and single friend and how good-looking she was. Natalie had to admit, he made her sound extremely desirable, and she was actually leaning toward taking him up on the offer, despite the fact that even the
idea
of a blind date made her nervous and jerky.

“Good.” The scraping of Andrea’s chair on the linoleum ß oor was loud as she stood up. “I’ve got to run.”

Natalie teased, “Personal things to do on your personal day?”

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FINDING HOME

“Always.” At that moment, Mr. Valenti walked past them carrying a tray of half-moon cookies and Andrea waved at him.

“Bye, Leo, you sexy beast.”

A blush crept over his stubbly cheeks and he rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “You a bad, bad girl, Andrea.”

“You wouldn’t have me any other way.”

She bade her good-byes and was gone like a whirlwind, as always.

Not one to be able to just sit, even on her break, Natalie got up and began pulling the trash cans that were on wheels toward the back door. She knew it would help Mr. Valenti if she emptied the morning’s garbage so he didn’t have to worry about it later. It was damn cold out and the chill of the air hit her like a slap in the face as she opened the door to the back of the shop and pulled the cans toward the small Dumpster, her mind wandering.

She wouldn’t really consider herself lonely. Sure, there were times she wished she had the company of a lover, somebody to talk to over the Þ rst coffee of the day, somebody to snuggle up with in the crisp frostiness of the winter nights. That didn’t mean she was lonely, or that she even wanted a partner. She was pretty happy with her life as it was. Some would scoff at that statement, she knew. How could she be happy? She had a job that paid her barely more than minimum wage. She lived in a tiny apartment above the bakery. She was single. What was there to be happy with about her life? She grinned then, because she’d had this exact argument with her father the last time she went home for a visit. He wanted her to “make something” of herself instead of slinging coffee and doughnuts to ingrates. Responses to all his points seemed to come unbidden and she knew then that she was in a good place in her life.

No, she didn’t make a lot of money, but she was good at planning and investing and shopping, and she was careful. She didn’t overextend herself; she didn’t live above her means, so she had enough, even a modest amount of savings. And the reality was, one day the Valentis would want to retire. Somebody who

• 25 •

GEORGIA BEERS

knew the business might want to take over. It was a tidbit that sat in the back of Natalie’s mind at all times.

Yes, her apartment was small, but she loved it, and it was actually bigger than it looked. The second ß oor above the bakery was hers, and the Valentis owned the building, so her rent was very reasonable because they trusted her and were happy to have her there. Plus, living above a bakery meant heavenly scents drifted up all the time. She’d told her father at least she didn’t live above a bar.

Yes, she was single. She didn’t plan on remaining that way for the remainder of her natural-born life, but she was okay without somebody. When her partner was ready to show up, she would.

Natalie Þ rmly believed that. Her father had rolled his eyes.

She hadn’t been angry at him. After all, he just wanted what was best for her and he was concerned. She knew that. She was thirty-one years old, and he probably had expected she’d be more settled by now, more rooted, have a house, a partner, and two-point-Þ ve kids. But she realized as she defended her life to him that she was happy, which was all most parents wanted for their children, wasn’t it? And when it was time to be happier, she’d be ready for it. Simple, maybe, but there it was, and she didn’t second-guess it.

Blowing on her hands to warm them, she decided she’d better get her overfull brain out of the cold before Mrs. Valenti came looking for her and scolded her for not putting on a jacket Þ rst. She dragged the cans back into the bakery, the scents of homemade bread, cookies, and coffee wrapping around her as she entered, coating her gently with the warmth and aromas of what home felt like to her.

v

“Are you absolutely sure?” Mary Buchanan asked. She brushed her graying hair back from her face with a slightly trembling hand. Her eyes were clouded. She was trying hard to

• 26 •

FINDING HOME

disguise her worry. Sarah could tell. It was something she had done as long as Sarah could remember, and she’d always been bad at it.

“It’s okay, Mom.” Sarah reached across the kitchen table and laid a warm hand over her mother’s. “It really is. It’ll be Þ ne.”

“But…it’s so long.”

“It’s three months. It’ll ß y by and I’ll be back before you know it.”

“And…it’s so far away.”

“It is.”

They sat in silence for several minutes, and Sarah was almost certain she could hear the processing going on in her parents’ heads. Her mother tapped her Þ nger lightly on her coffee mug, her wedding band making a soft pinging sound that seemed inordinately loud in the quiet of the kitchen. Her father was chewing on the inside of his bottom lip, a habit he always took up when he was thinking hard.

“Dad?”

Richard Buchanan took a deep breath, very slowly, pufÞ ng up his big chest. Then he let it out just as slowly as he gathered his thoughts. “You’re a big girl,” he said Þ nally. “You have to make your own decisions, and if this is what you think is right for you, we’ll support you in any way we can.” His expression softened as he added, “Plus, I have to believe this is a good opportunity for you at work or you wouldn’t even be considering it.”

“It is.” Sarah ß ashed a small smile of relief his way, seeing her mother’s slight nod of agreement out of the corner of her eye.

“And I need to get away.” She studied the burgundy fabric place mat on the table in front of her, toyed with a thread hanging from the corner. “I was hoping things would be a lot better by now, but they’re not.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, honey,” her mother admonished.

“You and Karen were together for a long time. That doesn’t just go away in a few months. Recovering from a breakup can take a long time.”

• 27 •

GEORGIA BEERS

“It’s been almost a year, Mom.”

“Still.”

“I just need to get away from here for a while.”

“Well,” her father said. “You can’t get much farther away than New Zealand. That’s the other side of the planet. Literally.”

Her mother grimaced with distaste at the speciÞ cs.

“I’ll be back before you know it,” Sarah said a second time, hoping to wipe away the expression of concern on her mother’s face. “And I need you to look after Bentley for me. I’d really love to take him with me, but there’s no way I’m putting him on a plane. I’ve heard too many horror stories.”

“I don’t blame you,” her mother said, reaching down to rufß e the fur on the dog lying at her feet. “I’ll be more than happy to take care of my grand-doggie.”

“Try not to spoil him too much, all right?” Sarah sent a grin knowingly at her mother.

Putting a hand to her chest, her mother feigned insult.

“Whatever do you mean?”

“Who are you kidding? I’ll come back, he’ll be lounging on the couch, eating jerky treats and making
you
fetch his ball.”

“And I would.”

Sarah was Þ lled with affection for her mother. She knew most people thought she was a little strict with Bentley, not allowing him on the furniture, making him sit or lie down before he got treats or meals, keeping a close eye on his diet. No table scraps, very few treats, all natural dog food mixed with actual meat.

Mentally rolling her eyes, she was unable to edit the thought that zipped through her mind.
At least I have control of something…

“We’ve got our cruise in the middle of March,” her father reminded her. “We’ll be gone for three weeks.”

“That’s right.” Her mother squinched up her face in thought, then settled on a solution. “We’ll have Ricky watch the dog while we’re gone.”

Sarah made a mental note to call her little brother and threaten him with bodily harm if anything happened to Bentley

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FINDING HOME

while she was away. She loved Ricky, but he was notoriously irresponsible. She brieß y considered speaking up, but her mother already looked so worried, she didn’t want to add to the burden by expressing her reservations about Ricky as a dog-sitter.

“When do you leave?” her father asked.

“The end of this month. I’ll be back in late May or early June, depending on how the inception of the new ofÞ ce goes over and how smoothly things are running.”

“That’s less than two weeks,” her mother almost whined, and Sarah wanted to smile with the affection that Þ lled her. She’d always been very close to her parents, and she knew having her away for such a stretch of time was going to be tough on them, but they were handling it like troopers.

“I know. I’ve got some serious preparations to make.”

“We’ll have a going-away party so your grandmother can say good-bye. And your aunts and uncles…” The wheels were turning in her mother’s head. It was the best way she knew how to handle the emotions swirling within her: plan a party.

“Just don’t go crazy, Mom. I’m not a kid going away to college, okay? It’s just work.”

“Shh.” Her mother waved a hand dismissively at her. “I’m making a mental list.”

Sarah and her father rolled their eyes in tandem.

v

Sarah was crying again and she knew it agitated Bentley, but she couldn’t help it. She hadn’t expected it to be this hard.

He’d be Þ ne here, she knew. He liked to be at Grandma’s. She’d made sure to bring several of his toys, his bed, and his food.

He’d stayed here before on many occasions, he seemed to like it, and she knew her mother loved having him. She wondered for a moment if he realized how spoiled he was when he was there.

She squatted down and took his face in her hands, looking him right in the eye. “You be a good boy, Bentley. Okay? Be

• 29 •

GEORGIA BEERS

good for Grandma.” She kissed his head and snifß ed. “I know you’re going to be worried and it might upset you that I’m gone so long, but trust me. I’ll be back, all right? I’m not leaving you. I promise I’m coming back.” She kissed him again and he licked at her tears as he always did, his way of helping. She swooped him up and squeezed him tightly to her chest. She hardly ever picked him up, having taught him that his place was at her feet, and part of her wondered if she was completely freaking him out with her out-of-the-ordinary behavior. He answered her question, though, when he gently rested his head on her shoulder.

She whimpered at that and squeezed him harder. “I love you, boy,” she whispered in his ear, kissed him once more, then set him down. “Be good.” She grabbed her shoulder bag, hugged her mother, who was also crying, and hurried out to the car. She knew without looking that Bentley stood at the screen door, looking out at her. He followed the vehicle with his eyes as it pulled out of the driveway and Sarah waved at him through the window, unable to stop the tears coursing down her cheeks.

• 30 •

FINDING HOME

CHAPTER THREE

It was just after seven in the evening and Natalie mentally counted twelve customers buzzing around the Starbucks as she sat across the small, circular table from Andrea and sipped her peppermint latte. She was trying to run calculations in her head to determine whether or not twelve customers would make it worth the Valentis’ while to stay open beyond Þ ve, but Andrea interrupted her before she could Þ nish.

“What do you think?” Andrea used her chin to point to the cup in Natalie’s hand.

“It’s a little too minty,” Natalie said, glancing into her drink.

“But if they lightened up on the peppermint syrup and added a bit more milk…”

“Might be perfect?”

“Might be perfect.”

“Good. You should work on that.”

Natalie chuckled at Andrea’s sarcasm. She knew full well that “work on it” was exactly what Natalie would do the next day.