Authors: Melissa Brayden
“There you two are,” Lucy announced. She sauntered into the laundry room with her hand on her hip. “I hate to break things up yet again, I feel like I’m always doing that, but the birthday girl is sorely missed. Come on, woman, you’re in high demand out there. Step to it. You can make eyes at each other later, I promise.”
Emory took Sarah’s hand from where it rested on her cheek and squeezed it. “Guess our time is up. Join me?”
“Right behind you. I just want to freshen up a little first.”
“Okay, you can use my room. Oh, and maybe bring Walter back with you? He’s bound to be antsy up there all alone. He’ll enjoy getting to meet everyone.”
“Will do.”
“I’ll meet you on the front lines.”
Sarah grinned and offered a mock salute.
The party was boisterous, Emory noticed upon her return, but nothing seemed to be broken or in danger, the main reason she didn’t often give parties, so she decided to just let the night run its course. Someone had opened up the room to the outside, and many of the guests had taken up residence on the deck. A comfortable breeze moved through the living space, and everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. She made a quick lap around the downstairs, saying a great many “hellos” and “thank you for comings,” before settling in with Barrett, who was generally a good person to stick by.
Barrett looked at her apologetically. “I told Lucy you wouldn’t be wild about a surprise party, but you seem to be handling it rather well.”
“Thanks, Bar. You’re right, it’s not exactly my thing, but I am happy to see you. I miss hanging out, the talks we used to have.”
“Me too. We should make time to get together more, though you seem to have more on your plate than usual. She’s gorgeous, by the way, and incredibly sweet.”
“She is.” Emory beamed. “Among other things. I think you’re really going to like her.”
“Like who? The mystery woman?” Mia sidled up next to Emory with Christi Ann not far behind.
“She’s not a mystery woman, Mia.”
“Then why haven’t you mentioned her before?”
“It didn’t come up.” Emory tossed away the comment as if it was the most casual thing in the world, but Mia didn’t seem convinced.
On the second floor, Sarah took a few moments to run a brush through her hair and greet Walter properly. After her cheek had been thoroughly covered with kisses, she ushered him down the stairs to the party. His loyalty was fleeting, however, as he made a beeline for the outdoors, clearly looking for a good frolic by the water. Such a beach dog, she thought, amused at his never-ending enthusiasm.
She easily located Emory, engrossed in conversation with Mia and her set. She stood off to the side a moment and watched, proud of the confident manner in which Emory carried herself, complete with the dazzling smile that never failed to make Sarah’s knees go weak. She was lucky, she thought, very lucky to be with such an amazing, intelligent woman.
“So where exactly did you meet Sarah, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“She’s a client,” Emory offered, refusing to give Mia too much information. Flashbacks of her sister’s pretentious comments about Sarah raced through her mind in rapid succession. She wouldn’t allow that kind of judgment at Sarah’s expense to happen again, especially not from Mia.
“Well, that’s not exactly true,” Sarah said. She joined the group and handed Emory one of the glasses of wine she’d snagged on her way over. “You were my client first, remember? Don’t forget that part.” Sarah shot her a questioning look, clearly not understanding the omission.
“Really?” Christi Ann chimed in. “In what regard? As you can see, Emory never tells us anything anymore.”
“With good reason,” Emory answered icily, a plastic smile in place.
“Unfortunately, it was shortly after Emory’s mother passed away,” Sarah began. “I was hired to help prepare the house to be sold.”
“She impressed me to no end and the rest is history. I’m keeping her. What about you, Barrett, I heard you were also seeing someone. How’s that going?”
Sarah was again puzzled. She looked at Emory, who seemed incredibly eager to move on from the conversation, and it slowly began to make sense to her. Emory didn’t want her friends to know that Sarah worked for a cleaning company.
She felt the blood drain from her face and she stared, lost, into the depths of her glass.
Before Barrett could answer, Christi Ann held up a hand. “Wait, so Sarah was your realtor?”
“No,” Sarah answered, raising her head confidently. “I was her cleaning woman.” She faced Emory fully.
Emory practically flinched at the words. “Organization mainly.” She turned quickly to the group in explanation. “Sarah actually runs the reorganization branch of Immaculate Home. They do some amazing closet designs. It’s revolutionary what she’s accomplished in such a short time.”
“But back then, I worked for you, cleaning and packing up that house.” Sarah emphasized each word.
“Right. I know.” The smile slowly faded from Emory’s face and she nodded. “You’re great at everything you do.”
Silence followed and Emory felt all eyes boring into her, but her focus was elsewhere. It was clear that the way she handled the situation had upset Sarah, hurt her even, which was the opposite of what she had intended. Her instincts had failed her again.
Barrett graciously picked up the conversation and moved everyone into a teasing discussion about Emory’s new dog that Sarah only half participated in. Eventually, she excused herself to call over to Carmen’s and check on Grace.
Emory found Sarah on the deck a short time later and waited briefly for her to finish her phone call. As she clicked off, she turned to Emory. “I’m so sorry to have to do this, but Grace is allergic to cats, and I forgot to send her allergy medication that lets her be around them. I think it’d be best if I just picked her up from Carmen’s and took her home.”
“I understand. I’d go with you, but—”
Sarah looked around. “You have a house full of people.”
“Right.”
“It’s okay.”
Emory placed her hand on Sarah’s forearm. “Can we talk before you go? About in there.” She inclined her head in the direction of the party.
With the breeze from the beach lifting Sarah’s hair gently, she looked breathtaking and a little sad. “Sure.”
Because there were people nearby, Emory walked them a short distance away from the house to the water’s edge. The sunset was all but gone, but lights from the deck allowed her to see Sarah’s eyes. They seemed to be silently searching hers for some sort of answer.
“I’m sorry. About the conversation back there and how I handled it. You don’t know these girls, but I do and I just didn’t want them to rush to judgment. Mia’s the type of woman who enjoys making other people feel small and I wasn’t going to let her do that to you.”
Sarah seemed to ruminate over the information. She looked skyward before settling her gaze back on Emory with purpose. “Can I let you in on a secret?”
Emory nodded.
“I don’t think I care what people like Mia think of me anymore. Which is new, because I’ve more than cared my entire life. But I no longer feel like that kid in junior high, who just wanted to fit in, and would go to ridiculous lengths to do it. Because since you’ve come into my life, I feel like I’ve learned so much about myself. And for the first time ever, I fit.”
Emory felt that wistful lump rise up in her throat because what Sarah was saying to her was wonderful and terrifying at the same time.
“So I guess what I’m saying is that I don’t need you to take care of me. But it would be nice if you could be proud to have me at your side.”
“I am proud, Sarah. You’re the best person I know. Please don’t doubt that.”
Sarah showed a touch of a smile. “See? Then that’s all I care about. And it’s time for me to start being honest about exactly who I am. With your friends. With my family.”
“Your family?”
“Uh-huh.”
“I don’t know what to say. That’s wonderful.”
Emory felt tears touch her eyes because she
was
so very proud of Sarah and the strength she saw taking shape within her. Proud and so much more. The well of emotion rushing through her after listening to Sarah was unique, foreign, and undeniable on every level.
Love.
And while the realization should make her want to pull Sarah into her arms and never let her go, instead it made her hesitate. It brought to the forefront everything she knew about herself and all the ways she’d fall short of what Sarah needed. So when she did finally open her mouth to speak, what she said was not at all a reflection of what she felt so firmly within her.
Because it couldn’t be.
“It’s getting late. I’ll walk you out.” She took Sarah’s hand in hers and walked her to the front.
The night hadn’t gone as planned. But Sarah, in her unwavering goodness, had rolled with each and every punch. It was yet another testament to her character. Back when she’d made decisions about her life, she’d never planned on a Sarah. Someone who would make her redefine her definition of just about everything. But here she was, standing in her driveway, looking back at Emory with sparkling hazel eyes. And then a dark reminder flared of the promise she’d made to herself not so very long ago.
Sarah touched her cheek. “I’ll call you tomorrow, birthday girl.”
Emory attempted a smile.
Sarah tilted her head to the side and studied her with concern. “You okay? I can see if my father’s free to pick up Grace. I was just worried that she might—”
“I’m fine. Go take care of your daughter.”
Sarah nodded and leaned in to kiss her good-bye. Emory wrapped her arms around Sarah’s waist and kissed her back for all she was worth, memorizing the moment.
Late that night, long after all the partygoers had finally vacated her home, Emory tossed and turned, but sleep eluded her. Frustrated and looking for something to distract her overly active brain, she crawled out of bed and fumbled through her bedside table. She came across the small canvas book, the last journal. She settled in and let her mother’s words take over.
*
Normally, Sarah loved a free afternoon. She could take hold of the opportunity to organize the chaos that life as a single mother brought with it. And she did, stacking art supplies, unloading the dishwasher, sorting through all the clothes Grace had recently outgrown—all while keeping one eye on her phone.
It’d been two days since Emory’s birthday party and the four text messages and a voice mail she’d left for her had been answered with only one clipped reply.
“Busy week. Will call soon.”
But Emory hadn’t called. And something felt off.
She’d give her one more day before taking matters into her own hands. It was possible that things at the office had truly picked up, and if that was the case she wanted to show Emory she was capable of giving her space to get her job done. She wasn’t a needy person, but she did feel she was owed at least a phone call in response to her messages.
But late the next day when she still hadn’t heard anything from Emory, she arranged for her parents to keep Grace an extra hour after work.
*
The sun slanted low in the sky as Emory set out for a walk along the shoreline to clear her head. She’d come home earlier than usual from the office, as the ever doubling pile of work on her desk couldn’t seem to hold her attention. There was too much on her mind. Once home, she’d swapped her business suit for a pair of cutoffs and a T-shirt. As she put on her shoes, Walter watched from a few feet away and panted hopefully as if his dream might actually come to fruition. “Come on, buddy,” she said, inspiring vertical leaping and all sorts of celebratory whining.
It was a clear September evening on the beach, and Emory was relieved to find she had it mostly to herself. The setting sun caught the water’s surface, and seagulls soared on the breeze overhead. Walter had tons of energy to burn and panted happily as they walked, but Emory couldn’t identify. She’d been ineffective at work all week and had carefully avoided contact with Sarah, no matter how bad she felt about that.
She’d needed the time. Her life over the past few months had been nearly unrecognizable. She’d let herself get carried away into a place she had no business inhabiting. It had been selfish of her. Sarah deserved someone who was capable of giving everything of herself and then some, and Emory just wasn’t equipped. Her mother’s words had reminded her of that just the other night.
“I was studying a photo of my father this afternoon and remarked how similar my brother looks to him now. Genetics is the most intriguing thing. My own daughters are the perfect example. Vanessa is an outgoing girl, the type who surrounds herself with the kind of people who can take her places. She takes joy in life, sometimes at the expense of others. In essence, she’s her father’s daughter to a tee.
Emory, on the other hand, is like me. She keeps people at a distance and always has. While incredibly talented and articulate, she’s a hard person to know and always has been. She seems to have discovered what I never did and has chosen a life on her own, thereby leaving less damage in her wake. Sometimes, it’s like looking in a mirror.”
It had been hard to read.
And while her mother was certainly not the foremost authority on her life, she had to hand it to her. Her points were valid. Emory came from a long line of emotionally stunted women. Her mother was distant and unavailable. Her sister was an irresponsible parent who had raised a pair of morally bankrupt elitists. And while she had opened herself up more to Sarah and Grace than anyone else in her life, what would happen in the long term? What hope did she really have? Who was she destined to become? She’d crashed and burned after two years with Lucy. She couldn’t take Sarah down that road.
She wouldn’t.
She started for home and didn’t argue when Walter ran on ahead. When she arrived, she found him flopped gleefully on the deck in front of Sarah, his fur sandy and wet from the run. Sarah stroked his blatantly exposed stomach with affectionate vigor, before lifting her eyes to Emory. “I thought I might find you out here. Car was in the driveway, but no answer.” She was smiling and Emory tried to smile back.