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I actually can believe it, but I don’t say this.
“I’ll see what I can find out.”
Ann smiles. “Thanks, Sadie. I’d really owe you one.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
SADIE
The night rolls on, and I do my best to put what happened in the garage out of my mind. It isn’t easy. I’m distracted. It doesn’t help that Ann avoids me. Whatever bliss I felt earlier turns first to unease and then quickly to regret. Ann is a good friend. Now is not the time to ruin that—or to make things awkward. By the same token, she is also not the kind of woman one rejects and lives to tell about it.
“I want you to pass these out,” Ann says, sneaking up behind me. “To the women.”
“What about Darcy?” I ask my eyes searching the crowd. “Does she get one?” I want her to know that I understand her, but once again she proves how hard it is to ever really know a person.
She kind of scoffs at a very reasonable question. “We aren’t in high school, Sadie. Everyone gets one.”
I don’t say anything because what is there to say when someone calls you out for being juvenile? Before I can think of anything else, Amelia comes bounding down the stairs, headphones covering her ears, two friends trailing behind. I look over at Ann, wondering if she is disappointed in me. Maybe she wanted more reciprocation in the garage. Maybe I should say something about it. It’s hard to know with her. One second she’s into to me—she’s telling me she can’t help herself—and the next she’s biting my head off. Whatever the case, obviously she has a short fuse, and I’m learning how important it is to stay clear of the trip-wire.
But now, standing beside me, she doesn’t look bothered. To the contrary. There is such a look of satisfaction upon her face that a lump forms in my throat. That’s the thing about letting go of a dream—it has its way of resurrecting itself, of sneaking up on you in the most obscure ways. And sneak up on me it does.
Suddenly, I am thinking about how I’ll never have that—how I’ll never ever know what it feels like to have something—anyone—to make me that happy. Something, or rather someone that really belongs to me. Forever. Not just pretend forever, either, based upon some made-up, shaky vows. Something that is mine and mine alone. Something that could never be taken from me. Something that could never leave, even when it does, because we are tied together in ways that nothing could ever change.
“Excuse me,” Ann says looking over at me. “I need to have a word with my daughter.”
I don’t bother with a response. I’m too preoccupied overthinking the rest of my life. Maybe that’s why I don’t notice that someone is standing behind me until I am startled by his voice. “Teenagers,” he remarks. “Can’t live with them, can’t live without them.”
When I turn, I see that it’s Paul, Ann’s husband. Interestingly enough, we haven’t officially met. I mean, I’ve seen him here and there. But he isn’t home much, and unlike his wife, he tends to shy away from the spotlight. I offer a closed smile.
“I’m sorry,” he says, taking a step forward so that we’re shoulder to shoulder. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” He turns and extends his hand. “I’m Paul.”
“Sadie,” I offer. “From down the street.”
“Yes, I know. I’ve heard quite a lot about you.”
Funny, I think. I’ve heard almost nothing about him. Ann really only talks about her husband in an abstract sort of way. But he isn’t abstract. He’s right here in the flesh, and he’s handsome—though surprisingly short—and charming, and everything I imagined him to be. It’s easy to see what she sees in him. It’s all there in his reserved nature. “Ann told me about your situation,” he adds, and his demeanor shifts to one of uncertainty. “That was thoughtless of me, the remark about teenagers.”
I look at him blankly. I have no idea what she has told him of my situation, only that it sounds bleaker than I’m pretty sure I’ve ever let on. “It’s fine.”
“Ann says you’re subbing at the high school.”
“Yes.”
“She’s really fond of you, you know. My wife.”
“Really?” I smile. Then I get an itchy feeling in the back of my throat. It goes by the name of guilt.
“And you should know…Ann doesn’t feel that way about many people.”
“Well,” I say, glancing around their living room. “People certainly seem to be fond of her.”
“That’s the thing, Sadie. People are always fond of a party.” He sips his champagne slowly and gazes over the crowd. He has a presence about him, the kind that causes you to watch from the corner of your eye because you just can’t help yourself. “It’s the clean-up crew who deserve the real credit though, isn’t it? Those that get in there and get their hands dirty.”
“Yes,” I manage. He knows what happened in the garage. Or at least, he suspects. Did Ann tell him? Or is he as perceptive as his lovely wife? Either way, I make a note to stay to help out afterward. Right from the beginning, the Bankses never did make a point explicitly.
“I just hope you won’t let her down,” he says and it’s clear what’s happened. Ann is using me. And oddly enough, I don’t mind at all.
“I’ll do my best.”
