Angel's Rest(30)



“That’s a new suit,” Sage observed.

“You’re right.” Nic took a bite of popcorn. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him wear blue before.”

“He’s a god in gray.” Sarah clicked her computer mouse and a printer began to hum.

Sage nodded in agreement. “Not many men can pull off the suits-and-sneakers look, but I have to say, it really does it for me.”

“It’s the artist in you, Sage. You need something with a bit more flair than straight GQ.” Sarah clucked her tongue. “I wonder how he feels about sperm donation. Don’t you think the two of us would make beautiful babies?”

Something in her smile, a wistfulness, signaled to Nic that this wasn’t fangirl nonsense for Sarah. “Wait just a minute. Babies? What’s that all about? I thought you couldn’t wait for your nest to empty. That’s all I’ve heard about since Lori’s sixteenth birthday.”

“Yeah, well, it was easier to be happy about her leaving home when the date wasn’t staring me in the face.”

“Sarah, Lori is only a junior. She still has a year and a half of high school.”

“Don’t you know how fast that year and a half will go? We have to do college visits this spring!”

To Nic’s shock and surprise, tears welled in Sarah’s violet eyes, then overflowed. Sage and Nic shared a look, and the basketball game was forgotten. Both women crossed to the sofa and took seats beside their friend.

“Honey?” Sage asked. “What’s wrong?”

Nic didn’t need to ask. She’d known Sarah Reese for most of her life. Despite the struggles she faced as a single mother in the small town, Sarah loved being a mom to Lori. From Girl Scout leader to perennial field trip mom, basketball team mom, and chair of the prom committee, Sarah did it all. Both she and Lori had thrived as a result. “You’ve had me fooled, Sarah Elizabeth. I really thought you were tired of fund-raisers and sports banquets. I thought you were looking forward to this next stage of your life.”

Sarah’s lips wobbled. “I lied. I don’t want her to be a senior. I don’t want her to graduate. I don’t want her to go to college. I want her to still be six years old.”

“That’s a problem,” Sage said.

Sarah swiped at the tears with the back of her hand. “It just makes me so angry. I feel old and I’m not even thirty-five yet.”

“Close to it,” Nic pointed out, trying to distract her.

“Oh, hand me a tissue.” When Nic did just that, she continued. “All I’ve ever wanted to be is a mom. Nothing against you two, but I never needed the validation of having a career outside the home. That was never my thing. Motherhood fulfilled me.”

“That’s true,” Nic agreed. Glancing at Sage, she added, “Her mom always said the women’s libbers wasted their burning bras on Sarah.”

“I was born to be a homemaker, and I’ve done a darn good job of it—despite the fact my home was missing a penis,” Sarah said.

“The visual on that isn’t attractive,” Sage observed. “However, you shouldn’t be defensive. I think you’re lucky that you know what you are supposed to do, what you were born to do. I’ve spent most of my life trying to figure that out, and I still don’t have the answer.”

Nic held up a palm. “Okay. Hold on. I’m confused. Sage, you have to be the most self-assured woman I’ve ever known. I’ve looked at your work, and I’ve observed your work method. If you weren’t born to be an artist, then I don’t know a Holstein from a Hereford. And I’m a vet!”

“It’s complicated.”

“Excuse me?” Sarah folded her arms. “This is my crisis. I would appreciate it if we can keep the focus on me, please?”

Nic sighed. “It’s gonna be a long year and a half, isn’t it?”

“This is our next-to-last Christmas together!” Sarah said.

“News flash!” Nic waved her hands. “College students come home for Christmas break.”

“But it’ll be different. I don’t want it to be different. I love life the way it is, and it just ticks me off that it has to change. Now, I know that’s a bad attitude, but it’s my attitude and I own it!”

“Well, that’s honest, anyway,” Sage said. “Futile, but honest.”

“Unlike others among us who pretend they are just fine with being lonely, I choose not to lie to myself.”

Emily March's Books