Heart Block (13 page)

Sarah hugged the portfolio to her chest. “I’m getting the drinks. You paid for the tickets.”

Emory made a grab for the check, but it was easily moved out of her reach. “Come on. I suggested this place and chose the wine. I’ll get it.”

“Nope. It’s only fair and—eighty-four dollars?” Sarah looked up from the open folder. “But we only had a glass each. Do you think they made a mistake?” She raised her hand, looking behind her for a waiter.

Emory winced apologetically and slowly brought Sarah’s hand back down. “The vintage is an Italian reserve, so it’s a bit pricey, which is why I insist on paying tonight.”

Sarah was shocked. The wine had been good, but not that good. She considered next week’s trip to the grocery store and inwardly cringed at the implications this would have on the month’s budget. Swallowing her pride, she handed the bill to Emory wordlessly, defeated inside and more than a little embarrassed. Emory handed the check and a credit card to the passing waitress and turned back to Sarah. “Really, I’d planned to get this. Money is not an issue for me in the same way it is for most people. It just makes more sense—”

Sarah nodded, the differences in their worlds hitting home. “Well, thank you. But just for the record, I’m not exactly destitute.”

“Of course not. I didn’t mean to insinuate otherwise, but be honest. If I were the architect you’ve been seeing, would you have argued over the check with me?”

“I don’t know, maybe not. But that’s beside the point.”

“No, it isn’t.”

Sarah didn’t respond.

They rode back to her apartment in noticeable silence. Alone with her thoughts, Emory tried to see things from Sarah’s point of view. Even though she didn’t necessarily understand, she knew she should respect Sarah’s feelings. The wine had been a little extravagant, but it was something she’d wanted to share with Sarah. Maybe she had been trying to impress her. Was that such a bad thing? Emory switched off the ignition as they pulled into a parking spot in front of Sarah’s apartment. She turned to face her, intent on smoothing things over between them.

But for the second time that night, Sarah beat her there. “I’m sorry. I overreacted. It’s just tonight, this kind of night, it’s not what I’m used to. But what I know for sure is that I don’t want to fight with you.”

“No, I should apologize. Sometimes I can be a little—” But she didn’t get to finish as Sarah’s mouth captured hers in a kiss that she would stay up half the night reliving. It was the kind of kiss that meant something, promised something, and made Emory want all kinds of somethings. Sarah was all soft lips and sweet taste, just as she’d remembered, and a jolt of heat shot straight through her in response.

Sarah pulled gently away and said nothing for a moment, just tucked a strand of hair behind Emory’s ear and looked softly into her eyes.

Emory swallowed, feeling so much more than she expected to. “I’m bad for you, Sarah,” she managed to whisper.

Sarah held her eyes. “You’re not good at relationships. I remember.”

“I can’t be who—”

Sarah placed a finger softly over her lips. “We had a nice time tonight. Why don’t we leave it there for now?”

Emory nodded, holding tight to Sarah’s words, trying to rationalize more than was probably safe to because falling for her would be colossally stupid.

“Good night, Emory.”

“Good night.”

Sarah walked into her apartment, closed the door, and leaned against it. Her heart was beating a mile a minute. She’d just gone on a successful date with another woman and boldly kissed her in her car. Who the hell was she exactly? She was beginning to understand that she didn’t know the answer to that question anymore, and it was scary and thrilling and scary again for days. While she couldn’t deny that she had taken a lot of enjoyment in the kiss itself, her world felt wildly off-kilter. How, exactly, was she planning on fitting whatever this thing was with Emory into her well-established life? Was there even a chance she could?

*

“Are you going to tell me her name?” Lucy sat opposite Emory on the bench that lined the steam room wall. “I let an entire spin class go by without asking a single question about this mysterious date of yours, just sure you’d think enough of our multi-tiered relationship to tell me yourself, but clearly, I was wrong.”

“I think the world of you, Luce. You’re the peas to my carrots and the apple of my corporate eye. Why would you think otherwise?”

“The peas to your carrots? Did that just come out of your mouth? Someone is in a good mood and it’s definitely not me. I don’t know if you’ve heard, but
my
best friend has completely shut me out.” Lucy sulked dramatically, slinking further into the terrycloth towel wrapped around her. “I’m guessing it’s something I’ve done. I can’t help but wonder if it’s because we were together, and if that’s the case, I think we’re both way past that, don’t you? I mean I have no problem hearing about you with other women. So if you’re worried about jealousy, stop because—”

“All right, all right, you win!” Emory took a swallow from her bottle of water and decided it was best just to lay it out for Lucy. “Yes, I went on a date last night with someone I’ve been getting to know recently. I didn’t tell you right off because somehow things feel different with her than I’m used to and I just wanted to have it to myself for a little while so I can figure it out. Come to an understanding of things on my own, privately. Make sense?”

“Her name, Owen.”

“Sarah.”

Lucy thought on this for a moment, her eyes finally widening in understanding. “Sarah Montgomery, the attorney from Barrett’s birthday party? Aha. Okay. She was definitely flirting with you that night.”

“What? No. Luce, that woman was predatory. Sarah Matamoros from Immaculate Home.”

Lucy stared back at her blankly.

“Sarah,” Emory emphasized. “From Fleur de Lys, remember?”

It seemed to hit her then and the expression on her face was the same as if Emory had told her Eskimos had taken over Texas. “The cleaning woman?”

“Can we not call her that? I told you, her name is Sarah.”

“Sarah, the
hot
cleaning woman?”

Emory rolled her eyes. “It’s not like that. Her family owns the business. She handles marketing and occasionally picks up a job or two when they’re busy. You would like her.”

“Yeah, I would. I saw her, remember?”

“Knock it off. I’m serious.”

Lucy softened. “You are serious, aren’t you? You really like her.”

Emory nodded solemnly. “I think I do.”

“Aww, Em. I think that’s great news. I do. If I weren’t your smokin’ hot ex-girlfriend in a towel, I would grab you and hug you right now, but you get it. So instead, I have an even better idea, why don’t you tell me about her?”

Emory couldn’t contain the burst of happy energy she got when her thoughts turned to Sarah. “Well, the best part about her is how much fun she has. Seriously, Lucy, she seems to appreciate everything. Things I always take for granted. Plus, she’s caring, thoughtful, and smart, really smart. Her daughter is quirky and funny too.”

“Whoa. Stop there and rewind. She has a child?”

“Grace. She’s eight. I’ve only met her once, but she’s something else.”

“Yikes. But a kid, Em? Come on, that changes things. Are you sure you know what you’re getting into? Somehow, I just can’t see Emory Owen caught up in a world of bedtime stories and sticky fingers. You’re a lot of things, but warm and fuzzy isn’t at the top of that list. No offense.”

The wind fell drastically from her sails. “Geez. I’d like to say none taken, but ouch. Am I that bad?”

Lucy turned on the bench to face her. “You’re not bad. You could never be that. You just don’t share how you’re feeling very often. When we were together, it was very hard to…feel close to you. It was like just when I had the last wall torn down, you’d build another one. Over time, I just had to accept that this was who you were. And I’m not sure that works with a kid.”

Emory let the information sink in, and though it was a horrible thing to hear about herself, she knew that every word was sadly true. “I know it’s late in coming, Luce, and I don’t know if these are even the right words, but I’m sorry.”

“I know. You did the best you could, and you know what? I truly believe that we’re right where we’re supposed to be. And if you’re serious about this girl, Sarah, then it’s what I want for you too.”

“It’s not like that. I just like being around her. Instant family is not what I’m projecting here.” She sighed. “In fact, I should put a stop to things now, but—”

“You’re too far in. You don’t want to be, but you are. Just look at you, all conflicted.”

“I just don’t see where this can go. You said it yourself, Luce, and you were right. I honestly can’t see myself being someone’s mother.”

Lucy scrunched one eye. “The image doesn’t come easily, no, but crazier things have happened. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with testing the waters a bit.”

“Testing the waters.” Emory let the concept marinate. “I guess.”

“Just please go into this with your eyes open.”

“Yes, your wiseness.”

“See? You’re seeing things clearer already.” Lucy then looked around helplessly. “The wise one is melting. Let’s leave. There’s a martini somewhere calling my name and I’m not one to disappoint.”

“Hi, Mom,” Grace said. She sat atop the small nurse’s cot, her eyes filled with sorrow.

“Hi, baby, what happened?” Sarah moved into the tiny room, discarding her purse on the floor as she crossed to Grace. She stroked the back of her hair and wrapped her arms around her, needing to feel for herself that she was okay.

When she’d received the call that Grace was in the nurse’s station at camp and she should proceed there right away, she experienced a horrible case of déjà vu. She’d torn out of the office and raced to the campground just as she’d raced to the hospital two months prior. She gripped the steering wheel in utter terror, and even though the nurse had assured her Grace was absolutely fine, there was nothing she could do to quiet her irrational fear. Now that she was here, she glanced expectantly at the faces of the three adults gathered in the room—the nurse; Grace’s camp counselor, Miss Kathy; and the camp director, Mr. Ingersol.

“Grace had a fainting spell today,” the nurse explained calmly. “She lost consciousness for less than a minute, but given her circumstances and condition, we thought it best you came.”

“I’m fine, Mom. I feel normal, I promise. It wasn’t as bad as last time. Can I please go back to camp now?” Grace looked up at her and the desperate hope Sarah saw there tugged at her.

Mr. Ingersol cleared his throat. “Miss Kathy, would you take Grace to get a refill on her juice so we can speak with her mother?”

“Of course I will. Come on, kiddo.”

Grace shot Sarah a worried glance over her shoulder as she walked quietly from the room with Miss Kathy. Sarah nodded in encouragement and smiled back.

Once the door closed, Sarah turned to Mr. Ingersol and the nurse expectantly. “Tell me the truth. Is she okay? What exactly happened?”

“She was playing volleyball with the other kids and she just went over. Kathy checked in with her throughout the day, and Grace said she felt fine. It’s a sand court, so luckily her fall was cushioned. She was out for maybe thirty seconds, and by the time I arrived on the court, she was sitting up and telling everyone not to worry. She’s a brave little girl.”

“Yes, she is,” Sarah said, but only halfheartedly. The fact that this had happened a second time in only two months had her shaken. Without a reoccurrence and with Grace’s cardiologist sounding so encouraging, it was easy to slip back into normal life. Today was an unfortunate wake-up call.

“Ms. Matamoros, I think this is something we need to discuss from a safety perspective,” Mr. Ingersol said. Sarah tensed, hoping against the worst. “I have very real concerns about our ability to provide Grace with what she needs. I hate to have to do this, but for her own benefit, I think it would be best if Grace did not finish the summer with us.”

Sarah felt as if she’d been punched squarely in the stomach. “You’re kicking her out for having a heart condition? Can you do that?”

“I’m so sorry, but it’s for her own safety. This is a very active camp, and based on what we know of Grace’s very recent diagnosis, I’m not confident this is a safe environment for her. There are plenty of camps that cater to children with special needs. Perhaps in the future, you could look into one of them.”

“Can we come to some sort of compromise? Maybe limit her participation in the more strenuous activities. Let her watch but still get the chance to be around her friends. It would kill her to not be able to finish.”

“I’m sorry, but from a legal perspective, we can’t have her return. I had concerns when we agreed to admit her, given her recent medical history, but after consulting briefly with our attorney, this is the best course of action for everyone involved. We’ll offer a partial refund, of course, for the remaining two weeks.”

“Thank you,” Sarah said with icy calm. “If you could just locate her backpack for me, we’ll be out of your way.”

“Of course. And again, we wish nothing but the best for Grace.”

“Clearly.”

As they walked to the car, hand in hand, Sarah struggled with how she would possibly explain to Grace that she was no longer allowed to attend camp. Grace loved this place and had blossomed so much that summer with all the new activities she’d been exposed to, not to mention the new group of friends she’d made. The idea alone broke her heart.

“Mama, why can’t I stay? I feel fine.”

“Well, because I want to make sure you’re okay. The doctor said this would happen if you overexert yourself, and so you probably need to rest a little. Lay low.”

“But this afternoon we’re supposed to do water balloons, and I don’t want to miss it. Angela and Brianna asked me to be on their team.”

“That sounds like it would have been fun, but don’t you think it’s more important to make sure you’re okay?”

Grace thought on this for a moment. “I guess so. If that’s what you want. Maybe they’ll have water balloons tomorrow too.”