All The Stars In Heaven (14 page)

Carl laughed. “Yeah, right. You gonna hire the loser that was just here? I took him out with two punches a month ago.”

Grant’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

“He’s the one who tried talking to her while she was at the piano.”

“He’s not an attorney?” Grant walked into the kitchen and sat in one of the chairs while he digested this information.

“I don’t know what he is,” Carl said. “You always told me that wasn’t my business. Only thing I got to remember is that no one gets close to Sarah. He got close. I hit him. He got close again. I took it a little more serious this time.”

Grant’s elbows rested on the table, and he put his head in his hands.
My nephew is an idiot. But . . . he does protect Sarah. Now she’s out there alone with . . .
He stood suddenly, grabbed his keys from the tray on the counter, and headed toward the front door. He walked outside, taking purposeful steps toward his cruiser parked on the street.

Who are you, Mr. Kendrich? And what are you playing at?
Grant could hardly wait to get to the computer in his office. He climbed in his car and started the engine, eager to understand who the enemy was so he could figure out how best to dispose of him.

Chapter Twenty-Two

“He wouldn’t give it to you?” Sarah sounded disappointed as she looked at Kirk and Jay—empty-handed—walking through Kirk and Christa’s front door.

“O ye of little faith,” Kirk said, grinning. “On the contrary, everything went like clockwork. The chief and I had a nice chat while I scoped out the place. Then I left, waiting outside for a while—listening in on the conversation, mind you—lest my unarmed friend required assistance.”

“Which I did not,” Jay said. “Though your father thinks
you
do.” He pulled a Ziploc bag from his pocket and tossed it to Sarah. “There’s your pepper spray. Your dad insisted you’re to keep it with you all the time. I got the feeling he would have preferred you carry a gun—and that you use it on me.”

Sarah held the bag away from her as if there were a poisonous spider inside. “Did he also tell you I’m not to ride the bus or subway, and that I absolutely
cannot
walk anywhere alone?”

“Something along those lines, yes.” Jay crossed the room and reached for her hand. He pulled her from the couch. “But your suitcase and backpack are in Archer’s car. He’ll drop them by later after we work out where you’re going to stay. You have everything you need for school tomorrow—without Carl.”

“Oh, he’ll be there,” Sarah said. “You can bet I’ll pay for this little twenty-four-hour furlough.”

“Pay how?” Kirk asked. He shrugged out of his jacket and hung it on the rack beside the door.

“It doesn’t matter.” Sarah stuck the pepper spray in her skirt pocket.

“We’re not going to let anything happen,” Jay assured her. “And I’m not so sure Carl
will
be there. Right now I get the feeling your dad is having a bit of a wake-up call where your cousin is concerned.”

She continued to look skeptical. “My father wouldn’t have given in so easily if he didn’t have something in mind. And chances are, that something has to do with Carl.”

“Try not to think about him,” Jay said. “Tonight—right now—you’re free. We’re going to do everything we need to do to keep it that way.”

Kirk rubbed his hands together and sniffed the air appreciatively. “Christa’s making her famous chicken and dumplings.”

“Made,” Christa called from the kitchen doorway. “Kirk, if you’ll get the boys from their room, we’ll eat now.”

“Hey, where
are
the wild things?” Jay looked around the living room, noticing for the first time that it was free of the toys usually strewn about.

“After church they have to play quietly in their room—puzzles, blocks, things like that.”

“And that
works?
” Jay asked, doubtful.

“Well, we’re trying anyway,” Kirk said. “You guys go ahead. I’ll get the boys washed up, and we’ll be right there.”

Jay stepped aside so Sarah could go ahead of him into the kitchen.

She walked past, looking apprehensive. Jay felt his own worries. It had been a long day for all of them—but especially for Sarah. After visiting her home and speaking with her father, he had a better feeling for what she’d come from, and he knew this must be a huge change.

She just needs some time,
he told himself, and hoped he was right.

* * *

Sarah waited on the porch while Jay talked to Kirk inside for a moment. Part of her wished they would share more of what had happened when they met with her father. Another part didn’t want to know what had transpired at all. Regardless of how her father had acted and what words had been exchanged, he had to be furious with her. That he would send Carl out to find her and fetch her home tomorrow—away from school forever—was a certain consequence.

“Christa said you can borrow this.” Jay held up a white sweater as he stepped outside. “It’s getting chilly.” He helped Sarah into the sweater, and they started down the walk.

“Where are we going?”

“Well, since you’re certain you don’t want to stay with Kirk and Christa—”

“I can’t,” Sarah insisted. “If my father found out, he’d be furious, and Kirk could lose his job. I don’t want to cause them any more trouble.”

“You haven’t caused anyone trouble,” Jay said. He looked at her sideways. “But I do have a plan B. If you’re feeling brave, we can discuss it at my four-guys-three-of-whom-don’t-ever-clean apartment.”

“You’re the one who cleans?” she asked hopefully.

Jay nodded. “How’d you guess? No—don’t tell me. Is it because I read history books for fun and attend the occasional ballet rehearsal?”

She smiled. “No. I’m pretty sure I read somewhere that guys who ride motorcycles are cleaner than those who drive cars.”

“What about guys who walk?” Jay asked.

Her smile fled. “I’m so sorry about your bike.”

“No,
I’m
sorry, for bringing it up again.” Jay flashed her an apologetic smile. “Believe me. I’d much rather be walking with you than riding my motorcycle alone.”

They continued in silence for a few minutes, brittle leaves crunching beneath their feet as the sky transitioned from violet to deep blue. Street lamps flickered on above them, and Sarah realized how very tired she was.

“Dollar for your thoughts,” Jay said.

She raised an eyebrow. “Wow. Inflation.”

“Your thoughts are worth more than the average penny,” Jay said. “I’d offer more, but I’m a little shy right now. Your singing was so phenomenal, I just kind of spilled my wallet into the collection plate.”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to,” Jay said.

“You don’t have to do this, either—help me, I mean.”

“You realize,” Jay said, “that I have my own ulterior motives. Like the possibility of taking you on a real date this Saturday.”

“If I’m still around Saturday,” Sarah said, seriously doubting she would be. “I really don’t think my dad is going to let this go.”

“Which is why you should stay with Kirk,” Jay said. “He’s got the ability to protect you.”

Sarah shook her head.

“Well then,” Jay said with a sigh, “I guess we’ll have to be extra careful. We’ll make sure you’re with someone all the time so Carl can’t get to you—if he’s so inclined. Unfortunately I’ve got a killer week at school, and I work almost every night this week.”

“Oh,” she said, feeling disappointed. Though she really didn’t think she’d make it a whole week away from home, it would have been nice to spend what time she did have with Jay.

His arm brushed against hers, and goose bumps sprang up that had nothing to do with being cold or scared.

“But there are a lot of other people who will be happy to be your friend and help too. As for where you can stay—” Jay held up his index finger. “Choice number one—Trish’s apartment. Number two—with Mrs. Larson, my landlady. And door number three—my personal favorite—on Tiger. That’s what we call our couch. It’s orange plush, and my roommate, Mike, striped it with electrical tape. It’s the ugliest thing you’ve ever seen, but decent to sit on and long enough to sleep two of you end-to-end.”

“And it’s located in the guys-who-don’t-ever-clean facility?”

“Pretty much.”

“Pretty much, no thanks then.”

Jay shrugged. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.”

“Tell me about Mrs. Larson.”

“She’s great—to me anyway,” Jay said. “My roommates aren’t too fond of her, but then, they’re all thoughtless slobs. I’ve carried her groceries in a few times, and now”—he held up one hand, fingers crossed—“we’re friends for life.”

“I don’t know,” Sarah said. The reality of sleeping somewhere other than the house she’d lived in for the past eighteen years was starting to sink in. “Letting me stay there seems like kind of a big favor compared with carrying in groceries.”

“Lots of groceries,” Jay said. “She eats a ton. But seriously, she’ll love the company. When I asked her about it this afternoon, she was practically giddy. I wouldn’t be surprised to find that she’s put her favorite afghan on the spare bed and set the table with her best china in honor of a house guest.”

“Oh, no,” Sarah said, feeling more agitated by the minute. “I don’t want to use her best china or anything else. You don’t think she’ll expect me to eat with her, do you?”

“It’d be nice if you did. Like I said, she’s always eager for company.”

Sarah stopped walking and turned to Jay. “I’ve never lived away from home. I don’t think I can do this.”

“What?” Jay asked. “Sneak around in a choir robe for a few minutes’ freedom the rest of your life? This is your
chance,
Sarah. Maybe it’s a little sooner than you expected, but take it. There’s nothing to be afraid of—except going home.”

“There’s everything to be afraid of.”

“Like what?” Jay prodded.

“Like eating a meal on special china with a woman I don’t know. I barely made it through dinner tonight at the Andersons’. And I’m sure I wouldn’t have if Jeffrey and James hadn’t been there, playing monsters and cannonballs with their drumsticks and dumplings, keeping everyone’s attention off me.”

“
I
wasn’t watching the boys,” Jay said.

Sarah brought a hand to her forehead, rubbing her temple. “Then you know what I’m talking about. If I embarrassed you tonight, please forgive me.”

“
Embarrassed
wasn’t exactly what I felt sitting next to you,” Jay said. “If you’re looking for an E word, maybe
excited,
exhilarated,
or
ecstatic
would be a better fit.”

“Oh yes,” she said sarcastically. “It was
exciting
when I didn’t pass the gravy boat right away because I didn’t know what it was.”

“No one noticed if it took you a second to find the gravy boat.” Jay’s brow wrinkled in confusion. “I’m not sure what dinner has to do with you thinking you should go back home.”

“Everything,” Sarah said. “I’m not ready for this. Do you realize that tonight was the first time I’ve ever eaten on a set of real dishes?” She waited a second, watching Jay’s expression as this sank in. “We’ve used paper plates and bowls and cups my whole life. And at my house, no one ever talks at dinner—half the time my dad doesn’t even look at me. It was very stressful trying to have a conversation tonight. And I know that probably seems silly, but it’s the truth. It’s how I feel—how I am.”

“You did great,” Jay said.

It didn’t seem that way to me.
Sarah toyed with a strand of hair that fell over her right shoulder. “How can I live in an apartment with a bunch of girls like Trish who drive and date and curl their hair and wear makeup and—”

“Whoa,” Jay said. “You’re getting way ahead of yourself. You don’t have to live with Trish. We’ll find somewhere less—social, where you’ll feel more comfortable. And as for eating on real dishes and other stuff you’ve never done before, well, don’t sweat it. It’s all small stuff.”

“Small,
important
stuff,” Sarah countered.

“No.” Jay stepped forward, closer to her. He took both of her hands in his.

This isn’t small.
Sarah forced her hands to stay where they were, though her first impulse was to snatch them away and run down the street.

“The big, important stuff you’ve already got covered. You’re nice—genuine. And if I could pick one quality I’d like a girl to have, that’s it.” Jay rambled on, oblivious to her distress. “I can’t believe you’d worry about managing silverware when your fingers . . .” He paused, lifting their linked hands in the air. He looked at them reverently. “Your fingers create a masterpiece each time they touch the piano keys. And your voice . . .” His eyes found hers.

Sarah felt her face grow warm and knew she was blushing.

“Today when you sang, you quieted that entire chapel,” Jay said. “It was the most amazing thing I’ve ever heard—aside from Hendrix playing the
Star-Spangled Banner,
maybe.” Jay grinned. “But my point is,
no one
is going to know that you’re not an old pro at regular things like the family dinner.”

“
I’ll
know,” Sarah said, but she felt his words boosting her confidence the slightest bit. “You’ll know.”

“I’ll never tell,” he said. “And to prove my loyalty, when we go to dinner on Saturday, I’ll tell you things about my past that will make your family seem like
The Cosby Show.”

“I doubt it.” Sarah frowned. “And I’ve only seen that show a few times. My dad was pretty restrictive with TV, and I’ve never been to a movie, either.” She sighed. “This is what I mean. I don’t see how any of this can work. I’m too different.”

“Different is great.” Jay chuckled. “I knew a girl once who was so into movies that she compared everything in her life to one. Half the time I couldn’t figure out what she was talking about.” He released one of Sarah’s hands but kept the other, and they started walking again. “I’ll take you to a movie. Better yet, I’ll pick out some of my favorites, and we can spend evenings sitting on Tiger, eating popcorn, and watching them. It’ll be great—the perfect opportunity to indoctrinate you with action films before you can be influenced by the world of chick flicks.”

Sarah nodded, unsure what he was talking about but unable to squelch the burst of happiness she felt inside because he continued to hold her hand and talk like they would keep spending time together. Like she was any normal girl he might date. Like any minute now she wasn’t going to be whisked away, thrust back into solitary confinement.

She glanced over her shoulder, feeling uneasy once more. She’d never been away from her father for an entire day like this. It was strange, and she couldn’t quite believe it was real yet. But no truck came roaring up the street; no police cruiser followed them. And her hand, nestled in Jay’s warm one, grew warm as well.

Gradually the quiet beauty of the evening began to wrap itself around her heart. The sugar maples lining the street blazed red, yellow, and orange. The air was crisp and infused with the faint scent of smoke curling from nearby chimneys. Sarah studied each home as they walked, fascinated by the glimpses of reality each portrayed. Inside those houses were normal people doing things like eating dinner together, talking, watching television.