Chapter 17
“I just wanted to let you know that she’s here, and she’s safe,” his mother was saying when Luke made it back to the kitchen. “Yeah, Luke found her out on the road. I don’t know, but we can bring her home…”
Her gaze jerked up to her son’s, and Luke knew the panic in his eyes told her that might not be a good idea.
“We’ll let you know. No, we don’t mind. She’s fine. Just caught a little chill from the rain. Yes. Okay. We will. Okay. ‘Bye, Em.” She beeped her cell phone off and looked at him. “She okay?”
Luke exhaled long and hard. “Well, I think that really depends on your definition of okay.”
His mother shook her head. “I knew this was going to happen when they said she was coming.”
He knew enough to know some, but now it was time to hear what had really happened. “So what’s the story with her dad anyway? I don’t get it.”
A moment and his mother came over to sit at the table. “It was a long time ago. Greg and Em were like the ‘it’ couple when they were in high school. King and Queen of everything. They were a little younger than me, but everyone knew them and liked them. High school sweethearts if ever there were two. Then they got married and moved into his grandmother’s place right down the road.”
“Where they live now?”
“Yes. Where they live now. They were close enough neighbors that they used to babysit for the girls sometimes. That’s how Em and I got to be friends.” The story wound down to a darker tone. “About a year after they were married, Greg got a job offer out in California. He wanted to take it in the worst way, but Em’s roots were here. They argued and fought, and she finally told him if he took the job she wasn’t going with him.
“Sounds kind of harsh, but that’s the way Em’s always been. A little too pig-headed for her own good. Greg just thought that job was going to change everything, and it did. He was gone for about six months, and then he called, and they patched things up. He came back, and we all thought everything was fine. It wasn’t long and Em found out she was pregnant, and they were over the moon about the baby.”
“They didn’t know about Sage?”
His mother pursed her lips and shook her head. “No.”
“So when did they find out?”
She shrugged. “About two months before Jaycee was born, Greg got the phone call. I remember it like it was yesterday. Emily called me so freaked out she could hardly talk.”
Luke knew the feeling.
“She said she couldn’t be married to a guy who would do that to her, that she was going to get a divorce.”
“What did you do? What did you say to her?”
“I did the only thing I could think to do, I told her they should at least try counseling for their baby’s sake. I couldn’t stand to see it end like that. They did, and eventually, they patched things up again.”
“But Sage, she came out here… before?”
“A couple times when she was really little, and then her mom got married, and that was the last we heard from her… at least us. I think Greg kept in touch over the years.” She shook her head. “I don’t know. It’s a mess. I just kind of thought the whole thing would fade off into the sunset never to be heard from again. Guess we couldn’t get that lucky.”
The stab to his heart made him flinch. “This isn’t Sage’s fault.”
She smiled a sad smile. “I know that, but it’s still a mess any way you slice it.”
That much he agreed with, but he thought it far more her dad’s fault than anyone’s. “Do you mind if she stays for supper?”
His mother looked at him and smiled again. “You like her, don’t you?”
Luke couldn’t argue. “You would too if you got to know her.”
Her sigh was long and slow as she shook her head. “You know what people are going to say.”
Anger slashed into his gut. “People are always saying stuff about everything. Am I supposed to live my whole life worried about what everyone else says?”
Soft patience floated through her eyes as she reached up and brushed the hair from over the scabbed-over cut. “No. But people can be mighty cruel about things like this.”
That much he was learning the hard way.
The shower really did feel good. So did the dry clothes. Sage did her best with the blow dryer and the one pick comb the girls had left. She wondered then if she had ever heard how many girls there were, what their ages might be. Some part of her remembered an older sister, the one with the child for the jacket. Was that Hannah? She couldn’t remember.
Out of desperation because her hair was not cooperating, she finally put it in a loose braid down her right shoulder. Strands were still sticking out everywhere, and it gave new meaning to the term “messy,” but with no curling iron or straightener to be seen, it was going to have to work. Figuring once she made her appearance again, they would be shipping her off for someone else to deal with anyway, she collected her clothes, shut off the light, and walked out. The kitchen light was on, and there were voices. Some tasks were just not fair to have to live through. This was one of them.
One breath and she got her feet to bounce into the bright light, and for a second, she was fine until they both looked up. She swallowed the overwhelm that threatened from every side and told her heart in no uncertain terms that she was not taking its messages. “I’m ready to go.”
That was a lie, and they all knew it. When had she gotten so terrible at lying? She used to be able to do it with no trouble.
“Oh, darlin’.” Luke’s mother stood from the table, clearly having trouble being gracious. “Why don’t you and Luke go on in the living room for a bit? I’ll just finish up supper. John should be here any minute.”
John? John?
“My dad,” Luke said when he saw the questions in her eyes. “Come on. I’ll show you around.”
Sage knew she should argue. Propriety said she should. Common sense said she should, but the feeling of safety here just wouldn’t let her. “Okay.”
For some reason Luke never quite thought about what showing her his life would be like. He’d thought so much about hers that this moment hadn’t really entered his mind. He stepped back to let her go first into the living room and then caught up to the understanding that she was holding her wet clothes up against her like a shield. “Here. Let’s put those here.”
Taking them from her, he set them next to the doorway, and when he stood and looked at her, his heart nearly flipped him off the sheer side of the what-he-wanted-to-do cliff. She looked absolutely amazing like this. Hair not perfect, face devoid of make-up, in soft, comfortable warm clothes. She looked so small and in need of protection. Somehow he hadn’t counted on that vision yanking him forward like it did. He put his hands on his beltline because if he didn’t, he was going to be in serious trouble. “Uh, well, this is the living room.”
Overwhelming vulnerability invaded Sage’s spirit. She felt like he could see all of her. Without the amazing clothes and perfect everything, what would he think of her? She knew what she would think, and the fear that he was thinking the same thing dragged her arms in front of her and her shoulders up to her ears as she followed him deeper into the room.
“This is the graduation wall,” he said pointing to the wall next to the outside door across the room. “That’s Kara, Cilla, Maddie, Hannah, and me.” He put his hand up to the back of his head and rubbed it there.
The amazing thing was how as she stood there looking, Sage began to forget herself and her own self-consciousness. “You’re the baby of the family?”
“Guilty as charged.”
She tilted her head to examine the pictures closer. They all favored each other, different shades of the same blondish-brown hair, the same nose, same eyes. “Hannah looks like you.”
“Oh, gosh. Let’s not go there.”
Sage laughed. “What? She does.”
He shook his head. “People thought we were twins for most of our lives. Still do if we happen to be somewhere people don’t know us. She hates it.”
Her gaze came up to him. “Can’t be that bad.”
“For me, not so much. For her, let’s not mention it. We’ll all be safer that way.” He looked down at her and the sheepish smile and half-shrug pulled her heart to him. “And this is the wedding wall.” The other side of the door had only a framed picture and several decorations.
“Only one?” Sage asked.
“So far. Maddie’s this close to getting engaged, but the rest of us. Well, it may take ‘em a while to fill up this one.”
Sage stepped up to the one of their family, and she pointed to it. “Is this you?”
“Oh. Uh. Yeah. I was like 13 there. They made me an usher.”
“Luke the usher.” She nodded. “It fits you. You look cute in your tux.”
“Ugh. Let’s not talk about it. I hated that thing. And they would not let me out of it the whole night. Very, very uncool.”
“I don’t know. I kinda like it.”
Something about the way she looked at him brought the blood rushing to his face. “Moving on.”
There were more pictures on the piano. He’d never realized how many there were. “These are mostly baby pictures and ones Mom just can’t get herself to put up in the closet.”
“What is this?” Sage picked up the one of him and the tuba. He looked like he was trying out for the part of a Munchkin in Oz he was so small next to that thing.
“Okay. Yeah. We’re not talking about that one.” He took it from her and set it back in its place. “No. We are never to speak of that picture again.”
Her whole face was animated and amused when she looked up at him. “I didn’t know you were musical.”
Luke looked down at her, loving how amazing it was to just stand this close to her. “I’m not.” In self-defense, he picked up a different picture. “This is Alyssa. Kara’s daughter. She’s almost four now.”
“Wow. Look at those curls.”
“Yeah, well, she’s the cute one of the bunch.”
“Well, well,” his father said, striding into the room. He was a balding man in his late fifties, still dressed in his greasy mechanics uniform. “Felicia said we had company.”
Oh, boy. Luke’s panic meter started beeping as if its life depended on it. “Uh, Dad, this is Sage. Wentworth.”
“Sage.” His father held out his hand to her as if he’d never heard a word about her, which Luke clearly doubted. “It’s nice you could join us.”
“Oh, uh, thank you, Mr. Baker.”
His father laughed. “Mr. Baker is my father. I’m John.”
It looked like it took three tries. “John. It’s nice to meet you.”
“You too. I think Felicia’s about done with supper, and I’m starving,” his father said. “What do you say we get in there before it all gets cold?”
The breathing thing was jerking and sputtering again, but Sage nodded in spite of it. “Okay.”
Mr. Baker led them, and she turned to follow him. However, the sudden realization that Luke’s hand was right at the small of her back yanked sanity there with it. What was he doing? He needed not to do that. His parents were going to know he wasn’t just her friend. He was, wasn’t he? Just her friend? She knew he wanted more, but with the swirling of her life at the moment, she wasn’t at all sure that was a good idea.
Plus, she thought as she sat down at the table carefully, didn’t they know it was her fault he’d gotten his face busted up? And just how much did they know anyway? About her, her life, and everything else? Under the bright lights of the kitchen, she started to panic. This was hardly how you wanted to be introduced to parents. Candlelight dinner at a five-star restaurant with everyone dressed to the nines and beyond. Not Monday night supper with everyone in their work clothes and her in… well, this.
“Shall we pray?” his father asked, and he put his hands out to the sides of him.
Sage’s panic meter went off the charts. What was this? What was she supposed to do? “Oh. Uh,” she said when she saw Luke take his mother’s hand and hold his out to her. Jerky and uncertain, she put her one hand in Luke’s and the other one in John’s, feeling the earth go spinning off its axis again. It was a good thing they were holding on to her.
“Thank You, God,” John said, bowing his head, “for this food and this family. God bless and protect all those who are not here with us, and those who have joined us this evening. We put today, tomorrow, and every day in Your hands, Lord. Amen.”
Was it a conspiracy? They both squeezed her hands lightly before letting go, and suddenly her hands felt very, very cold. Sage retrieved her hands, suddenly more self-conscious than she had ever been in her life.
Luke could tell how uneasy she was, and he hated that. However, the only girl who’d ever shared a meal with them other than his sisters was Jaycee, and Jaycee was more like one of the sisters. This didn’t feel like that—at all.
“So, Sage,” his father said as they began dishing out the meal, and Luke started praying prayers of his own like Please, God, don’t let him embarrass me. “You’re a senior?”
“Going to be, Sir.” She grabbed up her napkin and wiped her lips and then brushed some hair from her face. Oh, how he loved that face. Somehow every time he saw it, he fell just a little bit harder.
“Have you decided plans after that?” his dad asked.
“Uh, no. Not really.”
“Sage loves design,” Luke said, knowing she was going to probably kill him for it when they were alone again, but more than anything, he wanted his parents to see the Sage he knew.
“Design?” his mother asked as if she was really impressed. “Like what fashion?”
“Uh. No.” Sage was curling in on herself. Luke could see it from his seat.
“More like interior,” he said for her as he passed the potato casserole around. “Like rooms and stuff.”
“Really?” his mother asked again, passing the asparagus to her husband. “Like painting and pillows?”
Sage looked one syllable away from panicking. “Well, I haven’t really…”
“She was telling me about this room she designed for… what was it? Art class,” he said as if he didn’t know she was running from the topic. “Blues and greens, right?”
Heat surged over Sage. How did he remember that? Why would he remember it? “Uh, yeah, but it was only on paper.”
“You know, I’ve been thinking about repainting Hannah’s room,” his mother said, and Sage was beginning to doubt her own sanity. This was not happening. She was not sitting in Luke Baker’s kitchen talking room colors with his mother. “That room has been that awful Pepto-Bismol pink since she was in second grade. I really think it’s time to update it a bit.”
Somehow Sage had never seen herself as an expert in the topic, but she was interested. “So what colors were you thinking?”
“I don’t know. I really want something that’s kind of neutral so we can use that room as a guest bedroom for when Kara and Josh come.”
“Like taupe or camel brown?” Sage asked. “You could do an ice blue with that for the curtains, and it would look really upscale.”
A smile spread through Luke as the two of them continued to talk. Finally, blessedly the real Sage Wentworth had entered the world, and she was glorious.
As supper wound down, Sage had the oddest feeling of her life. It was like wispy warm cotton candy wrapped in hot chocolate and clouds. Safety. Love. Belonging.
When Luke’s mom stood to clear the dishes, Sage jumped up. “Oh, let us get these. Please.”
His mother’s skeptical gaze came over to her. “You don’t have to do that.”
“I know,” she said, and as crazy as it sounded, love for this woman she had just met soaked through her. “But Luke here needs all the practice he can get.”
His gaze yanked up to hers. “What? Now that was uncalled for.”
His mother laughed. “I will be the first to say I agree with you about that one.”
Sage gathered two plates. “Really. We can get this. Supper was wonderful.”
“Well, thank you, Sage,” his mother said, nodding and then looking at him with a smile.
“You’re welcome.”
When his parents had vacated the kitchen, Luke stood to join Sage who was already taking dishes to the sink. He picked up several and brought them over to her.
“I thought you didn’t do dishes,” he said, leaning toward her.
“Only when I’m with you,” she said, and her gaze came up to his and locked there. His heart skittered through his chest, and he very nearly dropped the dishes. Dropping her gaze, she started the water and pushed the sleeves of the sweatshirt up to her elbows.
He gathered more dishes and brought them over, making two more trips before the table was cleaned. She was already putting soap into the water, and Luke was having trouble keeping his gaze and hands off of her. No one should look that good doing dishes.
“Okay,” she said when he had come on the other side of her to rinse them, “now no lying over dishes.”
Luke grabbed a dish towel and bit his lip. “Uh. Oh.”
“It’s amazing, right?” she asked, her gaze down on the soapy water.
“What’s that?” His gaze stayed right on her although her hair was all he could see.
“Being in a family, being here your whole life. It’s amazing right?”
His heart heard what she was really asking. “It has its upsides and its downsides like everything else.” He reached in and got a dish to dry it.
“Yeah, but would you trade it?”
No, but I’ll share it. He looked down at her. “No. I wouldn’t.”
The dishes were done, and Sage knew she should be going home but the thought of that place made her want to stay here all the more. They left the kitchen, and when Luke hit the light, Sage was imminently aware of the dimness of the living room.
“You a Sox fan?” Luke’s dad asked from his chair where he was reading a farming magazine, his glasses perched on his nose.
“Oh, uh, no, Sir.” Sage picked her hand up to her arm. “I don’t know much about baseball.”
“Well, then it’s about time you learn.”
Luke lifted his shoulder in apology and smiled a grimace at her. She couldn’t tell him, but just being included felt better than she ever thought it could even if they were talking baseball.
“Sit. Sit,” his father said, and he pointed at the television. “Now the guys in red, those are the good guys. The guys in the white with the blue pin stripes, those are Satan.”
Sage laughed at the dire tone in his voice. “Okay.”
On the couch, she sat and Luke sat right next to her, so close, there really wasn’t space for both of them. He looked at her, a question running through his eyes, but before she could figure out the extent of it, he picked his arm up and laid it around her shoulders.
All she could think as she snuggled in next to him was how much she adored baseball.
Luke knew better than maybe anyone else how much of a toll the emotions of the day had taken on her. So he wasn’t at all surprised when she began to nod off in the sixth inning. Scooting down onto the couch, he shifted her so that she slipped down and onto his thigh. A second to get settled, and her movements stopped.
Casually, as if he’d done it a million times, he let his hand fall to her shoulder and his fingers brush through the wayward strands of hair. Life had never been so perfect.