Something About You (Just Me & You) (38 page)

BOOK: Something About You (Just Me & You)
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CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

“Do I smell Eau de Airport?” Carlton asked when Sabrina
walked into the Think Tank. He looked dapper in a vintage tweed jacket and slim
maroon tie. He sniffed the air delicately. “Why, I believe I do. You look like
starched hell, Sabrina. Do you need to borrow my eye drops?”

“Missed you too, Carlton.” Sabrina croaked and coughed into
her hand.

“Are you sick?” Moira swiveled around from the computer,
wild-eyed. “You don’t have the flu or anything contagious, do you?”

“I honestly haven’t a clue, Moira.” Sabrina tossed her
messenger bag onto the desk.

She looked around her. The room seemed bigger. Then she
noticed that the boxes of biodegradable utensils were gone.

“I could be petty and mention how many chops Theo busted
while you were gone — mine included,” Carlton mentioned. “He started
getting testy as soon as you left, and he even slept on the couch in his office
for a while. Let’s just say the good Hon. Rep. isn’t exactly a morning person.
So please do me a favor. The next time you decide to go AWOL, give me time to
resign first.”

Sabrina was resigned to the fact that Theo would be
unbearable for the duration of session unless he somehow managed to make things
good with Jill, and that was a long shot. She surveyed the overflowing pile of
files and envelopes on her desk. It would be a long day and an even longer
night. “I do owe both of you an apology,” she told her coworkers sincerely. “I
realize that my taking off on such short notice put everyone in a jam.”

“I hear way too much gum-flapping in there,” Theo called
from his office, prompting all three heads to swivel in his direction. “My
office, Chief — once you get settled back in.”

Sabrina looked down the hall and saw his hand waving her
into his lair from the doorway. She collected what she needed from her desk and
strode down the hall, pausing to fasten the top button of her jacket. She’d
borrowed a two-piece dress suit in an inappropriate shade of fuchsia from
Nola’s closet because she didn’t have time to swing by her house or even by
Café Firenze. Sleep- and caffeine-deprived, Sabrina summoned up her inner
fortitude as she prepared for what would no doubt feel like one of the longest
days of her life.

She spent the rest of the morning with Theo, briefing him on
the status of his legislation and strategizing his public response should Jill
decide she wanted a divorce. Then at noon, she caught up with Violetta over
lunch in the cafeteria. Sabrina spent the rest of the day plowing through the
staggering amount of paperwork that had accumulated during her absence. There
was also a large queue of emails from the Tide Brothers and other construction
company owners begging for an update on the tax break bill Theo had filed.
Sabrina sighed as she pushed two weeks of junk mail and office furniture catalogues
to the side of her desk, along with all of her cherished causes. The
overlapping coffee rings on the manila folder containing the omnibus women’s
and children’s health services bill she had painstakingly crafted suggested
that Theo had used it as a coaster in her absence. 

Sabrina massaged her brow as she read through the emails.
Gage was right. It really was all about the money. Her colleagues called it a
day at five, but she barely noticed her them filtering out of the office. Theo
ducked into the Think Tank on his way out the door.

“I wanted to congratulate you for making a prudent
decision,” he told her. Sabrina noticed that he wore the same smile he wore
whenever his bills won by a landslide.

“Pardon me?” she asked, genuinely confused.

“The decision to give Big Red the heave-ho. I can only
assume that’s why you high-tailed it back. Was it a clean break? Sometimes
these things can linger on, if you, ah, know what I mean.” Sabrina actually
didn’t, but she was sure that Theo would know all about that.

“Clean break,” she confirmed.

“It’s for the best, Chief,” he assured her. “Only met the
man once, but I can assure you that he’s the type who’ll try to sway you away
from a career with picket fence promises.” Theo chuckled. “Oh, hell, I’ll admit
it, Sabrina. I’m one of those men, too — that’s how I can spot ’em.
Although I am trying to change. I took your advice.” He clasped his hands in
his lap and looked at them humbly. “I scheduled an appointment with a marriage
counselor, one of the best in Austin — at least she’s the most expensive.
If I ever get back in my wife’s good graces, I’m going to focus on what she
really needs.”

“Help with the kids?” Sabrina asked hopefully.

Theo looked up, surprised. “No, xeriscaping the yard. We
still have St. Augustine.”

The office emptied out at six on the dot. Sabrina stayed. By
nine p.m., she still hadn’t made a dent in Theo’s email correspondence, and she
felt light-headed from hunger. At least she finally had her appetite back, even
if it was too late to phone for takeout. Most of her favorite cafés would be
closed.

As soon as she pushed open the heavy glass doors of the
ground floor elevator, a blast of cold wind stung her face.
Capricious
Austin weather
, she thought as she walked to the parking garage. If she
could decide only one thing that night, that would be enough. Such as what to
eat. She wanted something rib-sticking and loaded with a lot of empty calories,
either savory or sweet. A coney with tater tots. Strawberry-rhubarb pie. A
fried pork tenderloin sandwich. Red Waldorf cake. Creamed corn casserole.

Creamed corn casserole—?

Sabrina rubbed her cheeks with her palms. She really had
stayed in Iowa too long.

A strong wind had picked up, propelling her forward. When
she was safely inside her car, she retrieved her cell phone from her bag. She
had the number to a vegetarian restaurant on the University Drag stored in her
contacts list. The display registered one missed call. Sabrina’s heart skipped
a beat. Then she noticed the toll-free area code. Probably another sales call.

It was the worst kind of suffering, sitting there tormenting
herself with thoughts of phoning up Gage. Food was forgotten. She craved the
sound of his voice. Small talk would do, or a simple “goodnight.” Even
listening to his outgoing message would make her feel less alone. She entered
Gage’s number in her cell phone. By now, she knew it by heart. Her forefinger
quivered over the “Send” command for several seconds before she finally pressed
“Delete” and threw the phone in the backseat of the car.

“You are pathetic, Sabrina March,” she told the reflection
in the rearview mirror.

The best way to shake her addiction to Gage was to go cold
turkey, and that meant no calling. No texting. No sending messages through
Molly or Sebastian. She’d take it one day at a time until the temptation
finally went away. It worked for smokers and alcoholics, didn’t it? Besides,
she had made it clear in her letter that she intended to sever contact with him
forever. She couldn’t go back on her word. That would only confuse him.

He had to know she was serious, so he’d never tell her he
loved her again.

So he could fall out of it.

It was only equitable.

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

Coward.

The single-word text from Molly registered across the
display of Sabrina’s cell phone. This time, it wasn’t a sisterly insult. It was
a summons. A command. Sabrina headed out of the gym reluctantly. She’d put this
off long enough. May as well let Molly unload and get it over with.

The door to the Chateau du Parker-Cole swung open before
Sabrina had the chance to knock. Molly’s mouth was set in an
uncharacteristically mean line, but she looked only as threatening as a woman
in bagel print flannel pajamas and fuzzy purple house slippers could possibly
look.

“I take it bad news traveled,” Sabrina said.

Molly’s mouth opened and closed silently. She shook her head
and waved Sabrina inside without speaking.
Here it is
, Sabrina thought
with dread. The silence before the inevitable storm. She followed Molly into
the kitchen, where an ironing board was set up.

“You’ve been really busy. Wow.” Sabrina plastered a cheerful
smile on her lips. Dozens of fabric rosettes in pink and periwinkle blue were
strewn across the table. Molly didn’t say anything. Instead, she tossed one of
the rosettes on the board and smacked it with the bottom of her iron.

“What are these anyway? They’re sort of cute.” Sabrina
picked up one of the small pieces of fabric.
Bam!
Molly leveled another
blow. Steam rose from the iron.

“They’re yo-yos, and they’re a pain in the ass,” she finally
said. “They’re impossible to gather, they get twisted out of shape if you so
much as look at them wrong, and … well, they’re yo-yos. What did I expect?
So your visit is rather befitting, Sabrina.”

“Look, Molls. I don’t know what Sebastian told you—”

Molly squeezed her eyes shut and showed Sabrina her palms.
“—No way, missy. You are not laying this at Sebastian’s feet.
I
spoke
with Gage.”

“What did you talk about?” Sabrina tried to keep her tone
airy.

“Oh, the weather,” Molly said facetiously. “What do you
think we talked about? Everything.”

“About me?” Sabrina swallowed.

“Wouldn’t you love to know?”

“Look, I don’t know what Gage told you. But I can assure
you, Molls, his is just one side of the story.”

Molly gave her a pained look. “There’s no big conspiracy
going on, Brini. No one’s gossiping about how terrible you are. When I couldn’t
get you on your cell phone, I called the landline at the house in Walden, and
Gage picked up. It was a good thing I called, too, because the poor guy just
needed to hear another human voice.” She paused, and then a sad look darkened
her face. “His sister had just — well, you know…”

 Sabrina felt her heart plummet. “You mean he—? When did he
decide to—?”

“The day you left,” came the somber reply. “In fact, I think
you might have been sprinting toward the boarding gate when it happened.”

Sabrina sank into a chair. She felt a little nauseous. “How
is he?”

“How do you think, Brini? The man just made the kind of big
decision that you and I will hopefully never have to make for someone we love.”

“I should have been there. I should have stayed.”
Damn
you, Theo Ward
, Sabrina thought savagely.

“Yeah, well … you should have been, but you weren’t.”
Molly’s voice took on a practical tone. “Sebastian flew to Iowa this morning to
help Gage get everything out of the house. He’s putting it up for sale.”

“What exactly did he say?” Sabrina’s throat was so dry she
could barely swallow.

“He told me that the two of you had split up and that you’d
gone back to Austin. That’s the all of it. I know that Gage doesn’t have it in
him to resort to asinine behavior arbitrarily, so I figured he had to be on the
receiving end of the deal.”

“I had no control over the situation.”

“Oh, please,” Molly groaned. “That kind of high drama only
works in
Les Liaisons Dangereuses
. In real life, it sounds ridiculous.
What the hell did you do anyway? Don’t tell me. Let me guess. You sent a
goodbye text.”

“I left him a letter. A pretty long one.” Sabrina rushed to
her own defense.

“A ‘Dear Gage’ letter? Seriously?” Molly shook her head.

“It seemed like the gentlest way. I love him too much to let
him think that we have any kind of future together.”

Molly stared. “Let me get this straight,” she said as she
brandished the iron around. “You broke up with Gage because you love him. For
his own good, you say.”

“Exactly!” Sabrina said emphatically.

Molly sighed and put down the iron. “I promised myself I
wouldn’t tell you this,” she said. “But I’m going to anyway just to give you
the full experience of the guilt trip you’re already on. There are a lot of
things that Gage never told you about himself. He’s a smart man, Brini. He’s
always had his eye on the future. He invested and saved so that he could take
an early retirement and do his woodworking part-time to bring in a little extra
cash. Everything was going according to plan until Michelle’s accident. When
her health insurance benefits ran out, Gage went through all of his assets to
keep her on life support. That’s why he needed to downsize. That’s the kind of
man whose heart you just raked over the coals.”

“Oh god,” Sabrina mumbled. “You must think I’m the biggest
bitch alive.”

“I don’t think Cybil’s ready to give up that title. But I do
think you’re a fool,” Molly said candidly. “Gage is the kind of man who’ll give
you the shirt off his back. That’s all you ever wanted deep down, Brini. Isn’t
it? Not someone like Jackson. Not a highly educated man with a prestigious
career. Not a man who buys you a house in Cadence Corners. You got those things
for yourself. Just the guy with the shirt. Then when you finally found him, you
kicked him to the curb!”

She picked up the iron and smacked it down on one of the
hapless yo-yos.

“It’s been no fun for me either,” Sabrina said.

“Then tell me why you did it,” Molly sighed and put down the
iron.

“Gage wants to get married.”

“And—?” Molly raised her palms to the ceiling and waited.

“I don’t mind marriage. In fact, I can’t think of anything
nicer than being married to Gage,” Sabrina admitted. “But he wants children
too.”

Molly’s mouth formed a silent
O
.

“All of those years I’ve invested in building my career?”
Sabrina went on. “I used to think that I did it because I was too scared to
give up even my independence. I didn’t want to end up like Nola, divorced with
a couple of kids to support on my own. Now I realize that I stopped being
scared long ago. That I do what I do out of love — not for Theo, god
forbid, but for the people. A lot of them live right here in the Corners.
They’re
my calling, Molls.”

“I know, Brini,” Molly said with acceptance. “I’ve always
known. You’re stellar godmother material, but I could never see you pushing a
pram. Does Gage know this?”

“You mean did I tell him, ‘Gage, I don’t want to start a
family?’ No,” Sabrina sighed. “I don’t want him to spin his wheels, thinking
I’d change my mind.”

“It’s generous for you to be so noble. I mean that
sincerely. But maybe you should treat him like a grown man and let him make his
own decisions.”

Sabrina didn’t mind conceding at least part of Molly’s
point. “Maybe I should have,” she agreed. “Let’s say that I did. Gage is going
through hell right now. No one thinks clearly in hell. Suppose he decides to
stay with me because I’m the one thing he has to hold onto. Then one day the
fog finally lifts. He realizes he’s made concessions he didn’t want to make.
He’s not the only possible casualty in this equation.”

Having given up on the yo-yos, Molly turned off the iron and
began sorting the pressed rosettes by color.

“Sabrina, you’re one of the smartest women I’ve ever known,”
she said. “But you are not always wise. To listen to you talk, there are only
two kinds of men in the world. One is Les, the other is Jackson Sprinkle, and
the rest is done with mirrors. It’s not true. There are men who’ll want you as
is. Look and me and Sebastian. We’re the old, beat-up dolls no one else wanted
to play with. The dolls with the missing legs and the purple knee joints.”

“You’re not beat-up dolls, Molly,” Sabrina assured her. “You
and Sebastian are two very unique people. You were lucky to find each other.”

“I suppose luck had something to do with it. But I also had
something else on my side.”

“What’s that?” Sabrina wanted to know.

“Benefit of the doubt.” Molly’s face turned serious. “Open
your eyes a little wider, Brini. Sure, the world’s such a really big place. I
used to think that real love was around every corner just waiting for me to
find it. Need I point out my own flawed track record? There aren’t many men
like Sebastian and Gage. When you find one, you don’t just throw him away.
Because you might never find another.”

Suddenly Sabrina felt exhausted. But not physically. She
could easily go for another five-mile run. She was emotionally exhausted. She
wished she could switch her thoughts off. Or at least fine-tune them so the
only thing she could think about was her career goals.

“You really made all these by hand?” She picked up one of
the rosettes and admired the Molly’s needlework.

“Yup, all of them. I’m doing like you said. I’m taking one
day at a time. No more breadbox. Right now I’m focusing on objects no bigger
than a coaster or a teacup.” Molly looked at Sabrina hesitantly. “Sebastian and
I have decided that we’ll look into an overseas adoption if the right time
comes around.”

Sabrina squealed with glee and jumped up to hug her friend.
“Oh, Molly, that’s awesome!” she gushed. “Maybe you’ll have a little girl. I
can’t wait to show her the Capitol and take her to museums and art galleries.
Then when she’s older, I’ll take her shopping at the best boutiques!” She
paused, then mused, “Of course you may end up with a boy. I suppose I’d have to
learn how to play video games and brush up on my free throws.”

“Stay under the speed limit, Aunt Brini,” Molly laughed. “I
did say
if
. Some of the things you told me at Ella’s were brutal, but I
needed to hear them. Before I take on an important responsibility like
motherhood, I need to know I have what it takes. I’ll have several
heart-to-hearts with my medical specialists first. Sebastian has a big say,
too. If we adopt, it will be a mutual decision. We won’t leap before we look
again.”

There was a look of brand new maturity in Molly’s eyes,
Sabrina noticed. But it was more than just maturity.
It’s wisdom.
Sabrina’s heart felt full with pride.

“You and Sebastian are doing exactly the right thing,” she
said. “Just don’t give up on your dreams, Molls. I won’t let you.”

“I won’t let you give up on yours either, Sabrina March.”
Molly gave her an encouraging smile.

“Since we were talking about teacups … do you still
have any of that yummy L’Ancienne you brought home from Paris?” Sabrina asked
hopefully.

“I suppose you can twist my arm,” Molly capitulated, moving
toward the can. “You need a little cocoa after all that wanton
self-deprecation.”

Molly put the milk on to warm while Sabrina scooped the
powder into the mugs. Soon the kitchen was perfumed with the scent of chocolate
and vanilla. As soon as the cocoa hit her palate, the taste triggered a memory.
She was sitting in Gage’s car in front of the Zilker Park tree. The taste of
chocolate on his lips. His hair dusting her cheek.

Picking up on her pensiveness, Molly said, “It’s not too
late to patch things with Gage, you know.”

It was only eight p.m. when Sabrina got home, although it
seemed much later. The weather forecast predicted snow flurries with a possible
freeze overnight. She prayed the front would swerve and bypass Austin entirely.
Snow would only remind her of Iowa, and that would make her think about Gage.
Now that she was back in the saddle again, reminiscing was off-limits.

She tugged off her tank and sweatpants and pulled on an old
T-shirt. She was too tired to shower. Her throat felt much better, but her head
and joints still ached. Maybe the illness she’d come down with had been the flu
after all. She padded into the living room and looked at the sprawling red
sectional and magnificent granite-faced fireplace. Les had been right. She
should have sold the house. What reason did she have to keep it?

It was just her.

Her gaze was drawn to the tequila bottles on top of the
mantle. There wasn’t much she could do about the woodworking equipment hogging
the garage space, but the liquor just had to go. She stowed the bottles
underneath the wet bar and replaced them with a squatty bronze vase. She stood
back to admire her handiwork. She saw a striking void filled with looked like
an urn for cremains. She quickly got rid of the vase and put the tequila
bottles back on the mantle.

The wind was picking up outside. It curled around the house
and screamed through the scuppers. January had kicked in, and there would be
more grim days like these — sunless, gray and long. Sabrina felt the chill
seep into her bones. She turned up the thermostat in the hall. She paused in
front of Gage’s bedroom. His big four-poster looked inviting.

She climbed into the bed and pulled the comforter up to her
chin. The wind blew with such ferocity she could hear the groan of tree
branches and faint pops and hisses from downed wires. Sabrina had never liked
the sound of wind; its forlorn song sounded like loneliness, that small hole in
the soul. It didn’t help that she could still detect the scent of Gage’s hair
on the pillow and his familiar white soap smell beneath the sheets.

“Heartache” was definitely a misnomer, she decided as she
assessed the searing pain in her chest. It felt as though her ventricles were
being pressed through a flat iron.

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