Chapter 8
Luke wanted to spend as little time around the lovebirds as possible. Thankfully, Jaycee had similar aspirations. So when the final call went out that the shopping was now over, the two of them started grabbing up boxes from the floor and stuffing in whatever would fit in them. It was clothing. They probably should have folded it a bit nicer, but stuffing felt so much better.
“So you think he’s asked her to the prom yet?” Jaycee asked, the scowl saying everything the acid in the words didn’t.
“She’s probably pickin’ out the weddin’ dress as we speak.”
Jaycee stopped stuffing and looked at him. There was an almost smile on her face.
That made Luke stop. “What?”
She started stuffing again, but slower now, without the animosity. “You. It’s nice to see you’re finally on my side with this thing.”
“What? That her and Rory should stay as far away from each other as humanly possible?”
“No. That she’s the queen of I’m-so-wonderful-everyone-should-fall-at-my-feet-and-we-hate-her.”
“Oh, well, now, I wouldn’t go that far. Sage isn’t all that bad. It’s Rory Harris that should take a long run off a short pier.”
Now Jaycee was more contemplative than angry. “What do you have against him anyway? I mean other than the fact that he’s amazing and dreamy and all.”
“Amazing?” Luke looked at her as if she had lost her mind. “Dreamy? Try overblown ego with an attitude to match.”
“I think someone is jealous.”
He raised his eyebrows at that. “Of Rory Harris? Yeah. I’m jealous. That’s totally it.”
Jaycee laughed and thankfully dropped the subject. However, Luke couldn’t quite shake the question. Was he? Was he really jealous of Rory Harris? And if so, why?
“I’m going to ride with Rory to drop off the boxes,” Sage said as Mrs. Lawrence stood with five women, discussing the weekend’s haul.
Her stepmother turned, her arms already folded at her middle. “Uh. No. You’re staying here until we leave.”
“But…”
“Mom,” Jaycee said from the other side of the table, “Luke’s going to take me home.”
“Okay, honey.” Mrs. Lawrence waved. “You all drive carefully.”
“We will.” And just before she turned, Jaycee offered a wicked smile to Sage. “Have fun in the Mom-mobile.”
Sage could have burned her sister alive. Her conscience jerked her up short on that one, but it was very close to the truth. “Why did Jaycee get to go?” she whined, knowing she was whining and frankly not really caring all that much.
“Because,” When Mrs. Lawrence turned, she ducked her head and lowered her voice one notch over menacing. “Jaycee can tell time unlike some people I know.”
“Sage!” Rory called from by the door. “You comin’?”
Why did it feel like every person in the whole place stopped to hear her answer? Lifting her chin and swallowing down her pride and tears, she walked resolutely over to him. She tried to soften the blow with her eyes. “I’m sorry, Rory. I guess I have to stay here a while.”
“Here?” He tilted his head as if his ears must not be working right. “It’s just over to the shelter. What’m I gonna do, break you in half?”
Truly Sage hated this. She was not a child, and she did not relish being treated like one. “It’s just this time,” she said coyly. “I’ll make it up to you next weekend.”
His chin drifted upward as he put his arms to her waist. “Is that a promise?”
“It’s whatever you want it to be.”
After dropping off the boxes, Luke and Jaycee headed to her house. It was nearly nine. Where had that much time gone? Taking his gaze off the road for a second, he glanced over at her. “You’re awful quiet.”
“Yeah.” She picked her hand up to her head and rested them both against the door. “I don’t know. I just… when I think about them, about her and Rory, I just get…”
“Completely certifiable?”
“That’s bad, huh?”
“Hey, you wouldn’t be you without it.”
Jaycee smiled and punched his arm. “Hey.”
However, Luke just shook his head and looked back to the road. “You could do so much better than Rory Harris, Jaycee. You’ve got to see that.”
She sighed. “I guess. It’s just, you know, for once, I’d like the prince to look my way, to see me.” With a shake of her head, she sighed again. “But that stuff only happens in the fairy tale books. Wake up, Jaycee. Prince Charming is not coming to sweep you off your feet.”
Once again, Luke looked over at her. “Being a little melodramatic there, aren’t you?”
“What? Look at me. I’m nearly 18 years old, and what do I have to show for it? I’m here. In a car. With you. Woohoo. Give me a medal.”
The stab went through his heart as if she’d actually wielded a knife. “You really think Rory Harris is Prince Charming? Come on, Jayc. He’s got hype going for him and that’s about it.”
“He is not that bad.”
“Yes. He. Is.” Luke glanced at her again and then retrained his eyes on the road. “I don’t know why you can’t see that.”
“And I don’t know why you can’t see how perfect he would be for me.”
Luke chose not to say what went through his head and jabbed into his heart. Yeah, well, Mr. Wonderful is currently out somewhere pawing your sister, so it’s kinda hard to picture him with you right now. He swallowed that comment down and shook his head. Jaycee would never understand what Rory really was, and as much as he didn’t want to admit it, he would probably never have a chance with Sage with Rory anywhere in the picture. The truth was, it was all a complicated mess, and the drama was starting to wear on his nerves.
“So you’ll be in church tomorrow?” Jaycee asked as they pulled into her driveway to find the Mom-mobile parked there.
“As usual.”
She nodded as he stopped the car and put it into park. “Good.” With that, she arched across the seat and kissed his cheek. “See ya then.” In a blink she was out of his car and walking up the sidewalk.
The sigh hurt. “Yeah. See ya.”
“May I have my phone?” Sage asked Saturday night, deciding if she didn’t ask, they weren’t going to remember.
“Well.” Mrs. Lawrence turned from her cooking. “I suppose. Ten minutes and then it’s mine for the night.” She reached up into the cabinet and snagged the jeweled case from the shelf.
Amazing how much better Sage felt with it in her hands.
“Ten minutes.”
At home, Luke climbed out and bounded up the three steps and into the back door. The smell of something delicious met his nostrils, and he wished right then that he would never have to leave.
“Something smells amazing,” he said, breaking through the darkness of the mud room into the kitchen.
“Meatloaf,” his mother said. “Hope you’re hungry.”
“Starving.”
He kicked his shoes back into the mudroom, holding onto the wall when his left one didn’t cooperate.
“Did you take Jaycee home? I saw you two leave together.”
“Uh, yeah. She helped me take the boxes to the shelter.”
“I really like her.”
“I know, Mom. You’ve told me that about a dozen times.”
She banged a spoon on the potato pan. “Why haven’t you two hooked up or gone out or whatever it is you say these days?”
“We’re just friends.” He went to the cabinet and snagged a glass for some water.
“Well, that could be a nice place to start.”
The drink was gone in one, long guzzle. Then he pitched the tiny bit remaining into the sink. “Tell you what, Mom. When I decide I need advice about girls, I’ll call you.” He set the glass on the counter and headed to his room.
“You do that!”
S.
O.
S.
Sage typed the letters as if her life depended on it, and at the moment, it felt like it did. Please be there, Mac. Please answer. I’ve GOT to talk with someone sane.
She stopped. She waited.
Nothing.
“Mom,” she whispered, and her fingers went into overdrive. Mom, please. I can’t stay here. They took my phone. I’m grounded. Please. I want to go home.
Sent.
Life began to coil around her chest. What if they left her here? What if no one ever came to get her? What if?
The phone buzzed in her hand, and hope surged in her. She looked at the number but didn’t recognize it.
Hey, babe. Wasup?
“Hey, babe?” The words were a breath as she fought to figure it out. Then it hit her.
Rory? She typed the name as if her fingers were on fire.
‘Course, doll-face. Who else? So you got your phone back.
Ten minutes, she typed. Four now.
You free tonight?
Free. That was an ironic word. Uh, no. Grounded. Remember?
Yeah, but, you could get out of it, right? I mean, to see me.
Get out of it? Did he mean sneak out? Sage backed up a bit at that thought. Yes, it was unfair. Yes, she wanted to see him. But wasn’t sneaking out crossing some line somewhere? I don’t think so, Rory. Wish I could, but they would freak.
Why would they have to know?
The idea batted itself around in her head. They would know. They would find out. That much she knew. No. Not tonight. Maybe next week.
Your loss.
The phone buzzed again, and she clicked the blinking neon green button.
You’re such a drama-queen. It was her mother, and Sage’s hope meter fell to below measureable. You’re there, Sage. Make the best of it. August isn’t that far away.
“Sage?” Mrs. Lawrence was by her door.
“Yeah?” The syllable came out a squeak.
“Time to give the phone back.”
It buzzed just as she stood. MacKenzie. Helplessness overtook Sage’s whole spirit. 24 more hours before she could reach out and grab for the real world again. Sorry, Mac. Can’t talk now. Gotta go.
The hot pink maxi-dress wasn’t the most formal thing Sage owned, but the little church in this backwoods town hardly qualified for wearing Armani. She was up and dressed before the first knock. Not that she was excited about going to church, but getting out of the house would be a definite improvement.
The thought that Rory might be there was a tug as well. Of course, she hadn’t seen him there last time, but she hadn’t been looking either. So it was a possibility. She applied the lipstick, smoothed it out, and stepped back. Overall, not too bad.
“Sage, honey.” It was Mrs. Lawrence, and Sage fought to get light into her voice.
“I’ll be out in a minute.”
“Take your time. We’ll be leaving in an hour. I thought you might want some breakfast.”
Breakfast. Little crunchy yellow things in the bottom of a bowl. Oh, joy.
“Be right there!”
At the mirror, Luke fought with his tie. He wasn’t particularly fond of the things, but for her, he would brave it. Her. Sage.
One part of his heart felt a bit guilty that the name Jaycee didn’t follow that statement. However, another part said that she’d made it abundantly clear he was not her forever guy. Not that Sage had either. He thought about the little sack in the passenger’s seat of his car. If he got the chance, would he have the guts to give it to her? To make that request?
She might very well laugh at him, and he wasn’t sure he would blame her. Still, he couldn’t deny what his heart said every time he thought about her. He wished then that he wasn’t so awkward, that he was cooler. Then she would notice him like he had noticed her, and with that little nudge, his thoughts flitted off to a beach at sunset with the two of them not caring if the world ever figured out they were missing.
Sage was smart enough to hang back behind the rest of her family as they entered the church. No use to cause more trouble than need be. She looked around, in and out of the church-goers, but Rory was not to be seen. Her heart did a little dance through her chest when she thought about his request the night before. He couldn’t have been serious, could he?
“Well, Gregory, so good to see you and your lovely family,” Pastor Steve said as they made their way through the lobby to the steps and the double doors.
“Wouldn’t miss it, Pastor,” her father said, shaking the man’s hand.
Instinctively, Sage melted back into them, her gaze down, her only thought get in the church without drawing attention to yourself.
“And Sage,” the pastor said, and she cringed. “How long are you going to be here? Through the whole summer?”
She forced down the air as she smiled at him demurely. “Until mid-August.” Her glance at her family members solidified the understanding that every last one of them was swallowing what they really wanted to say about that timetable.
Mrs. Lawrence managed a fake smile at the pastor. “She’ll be heading back to California on the 12th, going back to school. Senior year.”
“Oh, well, how exciting.” Pastor Steve smiled at her, and it was weird how it actually looked like a real smile. “So then, will you be coming again for our meal next weekend?”
“Meal?” she asked fully not comprehending the question.
“Meal.” He looked from her to the others as if surprised she had forgotten. “For the less fortunate. The next one is coming up on Saturday. We would love to have your help.”
“Oh. Yay,” she said, praying she sounded excited and not horrified. “Yep. I’ll be there.”
“Fabulous.” How anyone could look so utterly pleased about that, she would never know.
“Well, we’d better get inside,” Mrs. Lawrence said, and this smile was no more genuine than the first.
“Oh, yes. Yes. Of course.”
When Jaycee stepped in front of Sage, the look her sister gave her could have melted steel. Sage wanted to ask What did I do? But she didn’t dare. As she climbed the steps, the feeling of the others in the lobby looking her direction seeped into her. When would they ever stop? Sure, she usually loved attention, but not like this. No, definitely not like this.
Luke saw her the moment she stepped into the church. She would be hard to miss in that extra-long sundress thing she had on. It was neon pink and curved in all the right places. Her hair was down in waves of blonde today. He liked that, all of it. Right up to the moment her eyes chanced up and met his.
She didn’t recognize him at first, maybe she didn’t even really see him. But that look in her eyes—at once lost, sad, withdrawn and withdrawing. He smiled at her, not a grin, but just giving her a safe place to be for a second. And then there was recognition in her eyes followed by a small, almost non-existent smile of thanks.
In the next second she glanced over at Jaycee, and Luke’s gaze followed. Anger and pure hatred met his eyes, and he dropped his gaze to the carpet, maybe in embarrassment, maybe in awkwardness at being caught looking at Sage. As much as he might fantasize about Sage, from that moment on, he knew he would never make so much as a move in that direction. Because if he ever did, he would surely lose the best friend he’d ever had.
There was no reason to antagonize her quasi-family any more than necessary, so Sage mostly laid low and stayed in her room for the remainder of her grounding. At night, she would hear them out in the living room, watching television or just talking. She didn’t go out there. She didn’t dare. They didn’t want her with them. She wasn’t a real part of them. She was more like a ghost, a ghost no one really wanted around.
Having nothing else to do, she read some and thought more. What would she be doing if she was back home? Once, on Tuesday night she got in touch with Patelyn for a few minutes on the cell phone—just texting. Mac and Ben had had a fight. Patelyn wasn’t sure what it was about, but they might be broken up. Then again, they might not be. It was nice to hear about something normal for a change.
Saturday morning, the official day of her formal release on good behavior, Sage got up and dressed in her jeans and navy almost-off-the-shoulders top. No reason to get dressy. She was just going to dust and then go with Jaycee to the meal day thing. Jaycee had gone the day before with that Luke guy to get the groceries, and although Sage wanted to ask what was on the menu, she chose not to for the sake of family relations.
She was halfway through her dusting routine when Mrs. Lawrence came into the den.
“Oh! Sage.” She sounded surprised. “You’re… dusting.”
“Figured I’d get a jump on it so we’re not late for the meal-thingy.”
Mrs. Lawrence’s face fell into something of a scowl. “Oh. I don’t think you’re going to that. Did you not hear Jaycee last night? She got sick about three in the morning. She’s not going anywhere today.”
Horror at the thought of having to spend another entire day stuck in her room struck Sage like a flash of lightning. “She’s not going?”
“Not unless she wants to get the rest of the town sick.” Mrs. Lawrence went to the side closet and retrieved something from its depths. “No. Looks like you’re stuck here today. Sorry.” She headed back out.
“Oh. Huh.” It was kind of a laugh, almost a cry. “Well, I told Pastor Steve I would be there. I don’t want to let him down.”
“I’m sure they will be fine without your help.”
Sage wasn’t sure she like the way the older woman said help. It was as if her “help” wasn’t help at all. “Yes, well.” She drew herself up to her full height and put her head back. “I gave him my word, and I don’t want to let him down.”
That stopped Mrs. Lawrence, and she turned as if uncomprehending. “Sage, honey. I’m giving you an out here. I’m saying you don’t have to go.”
“Well, what if I want to go?” Just why she said it, she would never be sure; however, once the words were out of her mouth, she was not going to back down. In fact, had the house come down around her, she wouldn’t have budged because of the look of barely-concealed surprise and derision in her stepmother’s eyes.
“How are you going to get there?”
“I could take Jaycee’s car.”
That brought out a laugh. “I don’t think so. Jaycee would skin us both.”
“Okay.” That stopped her but only for a breath. “Then you could take me, or I’ll call that guy… Luke. He can take me. Or I’ll text Rory, maybe he could come and get me.”
Mrs. Lawrence waved her hands. “Okay. Okay. Fine. I’ll take you, and I’ll call Greg and he can come pick you up on his way back from golfing.”
Why she suddenly felt the rush of having won, Sage had no idea. After all, what had she just won? A whole afternoon with people she had no desire to be around? It was some victory. However, she wasn’t going to tell anyone that.
“I’ll be ready in ten minutes,” Mrs. Lawrence said.
“I’ll be in the van in five.”
Luke was elbow-deep in taco meat when the door on the other side of the kitchen opened and in stepped the dream he’d been having for a week or more. She could stop traffic even when there wasn’t any. Against what his instinct was telling him to do, he ducked his head and resumed his stirring.
“Well, well, if it isn’t Miss Sage,” Ms. P said from her station arranging the toppings for the Mexican stack meal.
Reaching up to wipe his forehead with his forearm, Luke chanced another glance over to her as the door shut behind her. Without the sunlight pouring in from behind her back, she almost lost the full angelic effect. Almost. But not quite.
“Sage Wentworth, reporting for duty.” Sage pulled herself up straight and saluted. There was almost a smile that accompanied that salute. At least he thought there was, but he could very well be hallucinating.
“Did you forget your sister?” Ms. P asked, gazing past Sage at the now-closed door.
“Forget?” Sage put her hands in the front pockets of her jeans and hiked both shoulders. “No, I didn’t forget. Jaycee got super sick this morning. She’s not coming.”
Ms. P nodded and assessed the volunteer in front of her. “And yet you came anyway.”
The look on Sage’s face went from hopeful to helpless. “I told Pastor Steve I would be here, and here I am.”
The good pastor chose that moment to breeze in from the other way. “Oh, Sage. So glad you could make it. I need help with the drinks out here. Do you mind?”
“No.” A small, nearly inaudible giggle sprang from her. “I don’t mind. I’m at your service.”
“Great. Perfect. Come on. You can fill the water coolers.”
This smile was almost real. “Perfect.”
And with that, she crossed the room and followed Pastor Steve out.
Luke waited as long as he possibly could before looking over at Ms. P. She looked at him and weaved her head from side-to-side, her eyes wide with Oh, Lord, help us all written in them. Part of him couldn’t disagree, but the other part just wanted that part to shut up.
The door opened again and Rachel and Monica walked in.
“Oh, thank Heavens,” Ms. P said. “Help has arrived!”
As he trekked in and out of the kitchen for the next couple of hours, Luke would look for her without getting formal permission from his mind to do so. She was at the drink station for whole periods of time, but then, on one such trip, he glanced over to the drink table only to find it empty. His heart jerked forward as he relocated his gaze to the full pan of taco meat he was replacing in the warming bins. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to seriously burn his hands off.
Just as the transfer was made, he caught sight of her ambling down one walkway between tables filled with humanity. Someone said something to her, and she turned with a smile that lit his world with one jolt. She nodded at the person sitting at the table and headed off to get whatever she’d been sent for.
The others were working as well—bringing more cheese, more lettuce, more everything. Today’s crowd outdid every one they had seen in months, and as he looked out over them, peace that he was making a difference swept through him. He might not be a preacher. He might not be super brilliant, but in this small way, he was doing something good, and that made his heart feel good. He lifted the empty pan and headed back for the kitchen.
Sage couldn’t have explained it had she been facing a firing squad, but today, here, life was almost… fun. At least she wasn’t in her room, staring at the walls, praying for it to get dark enough to warrant going to sleep.
Even better, it was daylight and she was outside of the house without Jaycee right there to ruin any second of peace she might stumble upon. Okay, so Rory hadn’t shown up, but even that was okay.
“Here you go.” She set the sugar packets down for the elderly gentleman who had called her sweetheart. He was four times her age with faded blue eyes, but he was still suave in his own way. “Is that all?”
“Thank you, darlin’,” he said with a nod. “This lemonade will be even sweeter because you brought me these.”
“Well,” Sage said, brushing her hair back, “you enjoy that lemonade then.”
“Oh, I will. I will.”
She smiled at him again and started back to the front drink table.
“Miss?” another gentleman three seats down said. “Could I get a refill of tea?”
“Of course. Coming right up.”
At a quarter to two, Luke was scraping out the last of the meat, hoping it would hold out just a little longer when Sage breezed into the kitchen.
“Can someone point me to the napkins? We seem to be out,” Sage said in that sweet voice she had. It clinked like tiny bells on his ears.
“Luke,” Ms. P said. “Can you get those? I’ve got to get this cheese out.”
“Oh, sure thing.” With his hands going one way and his body the other, he managed to drop the pan in his hands onto the counter with a loud clang. Ugh. Why couldn’t he be smooth about things? Wiping his hands on his jeans, he strode across the kitchen to where she stood.
Dang, she was even more gorgeous up close. He half-smiled at her, hoping she would just stay where she was while he got the napkins. However, he wasn’t that lucky. No. She followed him right into the back hallway, which was dark as usual, and that clanged down his soul as loudly as the pan had hit that counter.
“Thank you for getting them for me,” Sage said, and those bells tickled across his ears, “but you could have just told me where they were.”
“Oh, it’s okay.” He opened the closet and pulled on the light. “They’re kind of high up. I’m not sure you could’ve reached them anyway.” Praying he wouldn’t drop them, bobble them, or in any other way make a complete fool of himself, Luke carefully retrieved the large package of napkins.
She looked at them doubtfully. “I don’t think we need all of those. Just like a handful or something.”
Luke nodded, not trusting his voice. He ripped into the bag and pulled some out. “That enough?”
Her reply was a breath of a laugh. “I’m sure, and if I need more, I know where they are now.”
“That you do.” He replaced the bag and clicked off the light, backing out of the closet so he could close the door. When he turned, she was still there, watching him. Panic lit through him. “Did you need something else?”
“Oh. No. No. Just napkins.” She laughed again, and he had the thought that if they didn’t get out of this closed-in space soon, he might in fact pass out. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He let the drawl sound in his voice as she half-turned, and he followed her out. “Any time, Ma’m.”
Her smile when she flipped her hair and gazed back at him very nearly sent him sprawling into the floor as his feet forgot how to walk. And with that, she went back out of the kitchen.
Luke wasn’t at all sure who had turned up the furnace, but he wondered as he went back to his own work what they were thinking doing such a thing with the temperature outside flirting with 100. Flirting. The word went through him like a knife. Had she been flirting with him? If she wasn’t, he was sure of only one thing, he would be mincemeat if she ever did.
“You can take these back to be washed,” Mrs. Mitchell said as Sage wondered when her father would show up to collect her. Even if helping serve was getting easier, being on the clean-up crew was not her idea of fun.
However, Mrs. Mitchell did not seem to notice that Sage hadn’t signed up for this. Without even asking, she handed two pans to her, and in a blink Sage found herself standing, holding two pans with no clue what to do with them.
“Take them into the kitchen and give them to Luke,” Mrs. Mitchell said, wiping down the line counter.
“Oh. Okay.”
Luke. Well, at least she hadn’t said to give them to Ms. P. Sage still had the feeling that Ms. P wasn’t thrilled with her being in the kitchen. Luke, however, was far less threatening.
Holding onto that mere piece of luck, Sage went into the kitchen where she found Luke at the sink, an incredible stack of stainless steel next to him.
“I think these are for you,” Sage said, putting the pans on the counter with the rest of the things he was washing.
“Oh, gee, thanks,” he said, and there was no doubt of the sarcasm of that statement.
Wickedness slipped into her spirit. “Don’t thank me yet. There’s plenty more where that came from.” She turned and headed for the door.
“Thanks for the warning.”
“You’re welcome,” she called over her shoulder. Back at the line, she stacked two pans that Mrs. Mitchell had pulled out. “These go to be washed?”
“Uh, yeah. All of this does.”
“Wow. Luke’s going to be here all night.” She walked back into the kitchen and over to the counter where these two joined the others.
“Is there much more out there?” he asked, sounding on the verge of giving up.
She shook her head. “Don’t ask. It would only depress you.”
“That’s encouraging.”
“Just trying to help!”
As much as he hated washing dishes, Luke was having an immense amount of fun watching her walk in and out. He began to notice that each time she came back, she would say something to him. “Don’t quit your day job.” “I feel like Santa.” “I hope you don’t blame me for this.”
Each time he retorted the comment, but each one brushed across his heart like the gentle wing of an angel. By the time she brought the final items from the line, he was sad to see her reason for coming back here go.
“That’s it,” she said after stacking the last two empty bowls that had been full of cheese at the very end.
“You sure? I haven’t seen the water cooler or tea thing.”
She snapped her fingers. “Tea thing. Right. I’ll be back.”
He could hardly hold the laugh as he watched her go through the other door. In seconds she was back, hefting the tea dispenser.
“Ask and it shall be given,” he said, shaking his head. Just then he realized she was going to have the thing all over the floor if she tried to get it up onto that counter by herself. “Oh, here.” And with no more than that, he was next to her, picking the thing up and setting it gently down.
“Whew. Manual labor.” She swiped off her hands and wiped them on the backs of her jeans. “Not my forte.”
“You need help with the water?” When he stepped back, how close she was washed over him.
“I think I can get it, but don’t go too far.” With a wink, she headed back out, and Luke froze solid to the spot.
“Luke, these dishes are not doing themselves,” Ms. P said, bustling about as she stacked more pans on the other side of the counter.
He shook his head to clear it of the intoxication and went back to work. “I’m on it.”
Sage couldn’t explain it, but it was very much like remembering what sunshine felt like. Never would she have thought she would feel that way immersed in dirty pots and pans, but every time she went into that kitchen, her spirit said it was filled with warmth and safety. Maybe the first real safety she had felt since landing here three weeks before.
“Finally. That’s the last of it,” she said, setting the water dispenser up on the counter. This one was almost empty so it wasn’t the impossible task the tea one had proven to be. Stepping back, she put her hands on her hips. “Wow.”
“Yeah. Wow,” Luke said from the sink, looking over the pile. “So, you just going to bring them all in here and then leave me with all the hard work?”
“Hey, I brought them. You should be grateful.”
“Oh, I am. I am. Grateful is my middle name.”
“Luke. Grateful.” She came over to his side, leaned her elbows on the sink next to him and looked up at him playfully. “I-don’t-know-your-last-name. Yep. That has a lovely ring to it, don’t you think?”
His gaze fell to hers, and he shook his head. “Hey there, Ms. Sarcastic, you know how to use a dish towel?”
Her eyebrows came up. “Do I look like I know how to use a dish towel?”
“No.” He tried not to smile, but he did anyway. “But maybe it’s time you learned.” Jerking his chin up, he indicated the other side of the counter. “They’re over there in that top drawer.”
Waiting one more second, Sage picked herself up. “I said I don’t know how to use one.”
He shook his head again. “Just get a towel and start drying, Ms. Hollywood.”
From anyone else, she probably would have taken the moniker as an insult. Somehow, from him, it didn’t sound like one. She got one of the towels, trying not to notice all the holes in it. Back at his side, she picked up one small pan from the top of the new stack he was creating in the draining sink. Running it back and forth to dry the pan, she let out a breath. Strange how a month ago she never would have pictured herself doing such a thing.
“At least we didn’t have spaghetti today,” he said, leaning over just enough to bump her shoulder.
“Ugh. Don’t remind me.” She set that pan down to the side and grabbed up another one before leaning toward him. “I’m surprised Ms. P even let me in the kitchen today.”
“You and me both.” He smiled down at her, and Sage had that feeling of knowing she was safe again.
“I’m not exactly a kitchen kind of person,” she said, not looking up at him.
“Nah. You totally could have fooled me.”
“Really,” and her tone dropped into serious. “All of this is just so… surreal to me. The people. This.” She held up a pan and then set it down. “It’s so not…”
“You?” he asked gently. “I’d have never guessed.”
With a shrug she pulled up another pan. “The weirdest thing is how nice it is to be here. Today. At least I’m not staring at my walls, wishing I could be somewhere else.”
“You don’t want to be somewhere else?” He sounded actually concerned as if her feelings mattered one way or the other to him.
“Well, this is definitely better than the alternative. Believe me, I have a new appreciation for the torture of solitary confinement.”
“That bad, huh?”
She retrieved another pan as he replenished her stack. “I’m telling you, I thought I was going to lose my mind when I didn’t have my cell phone last week. At least I finally got that back.”
“Yeah. They can be pretty strict.”
“Tell me about it.” She put that pan down and got another, rotating her towel to try to find a not-wet place. “I guess you know all about that though, huh?”
“Me?” He turned surprised eyes down on her.
However, Sage just shrugged. “Yeah, you and Jayc. I mean, with you guys dating and everything.”
She said it so matter-of-factly that Luke felt like he’d been hit in the chest with a double-barrel shotgun blast.
“Oh, uh.” He reached up and scratched the back of his head, not realizing he’d managed to transfer suds there. “We’re not dating. We’re just friends.”
“Friends.” Sage laughed. “Yeah. Right.”
Defensively and trying to figure out what that laugh meant, he plunged his hands back in the soapy water. “Really. We’re just friends.” Before she could question it or laugh at him again, Luke plowed forward. “Good friends. The best. But we’re totally not dating.”
“Huh.” She made the sound and nodded with a scowl on her face as she dried a bowl. “But you want to… date her, right?”
If Luke had had any air in his system, he would have yelled Fire to get out of this conversation. “Uh. No. I…”
“Oh, come on. Seriously? Now, no lying over dishes.” Her gaze came up to his face, and he hated that he couldn’t think of a way to get away from her.
Lifting his eyebrows, he let his gaze slide over her face. “No lying over dishes? That’s a new one.”
“No, now, come on. No changing the subject on me. You like Jaycee.”
This was not a conversation he wanted to be in. Suddenly her word from before, surreal pounded through his mind. “As a friend, yes. I like Jaycee.”
Sage shook her head, looking imminently more comfortable than she had 20 minutes before, which did nothing for his nerves. “But you go out?”
“Not like that. Not like you mean. Not like dating.” He shrugged and reached up to push his sleeves up, realizing only after he did so that he had only succeeded in getting them wet. “We go out. We hang out sometimes, but we’re not dating.”
Something approaching sadness brushed her face. “But I see how you look at her.”
That backed Luke up. “Oh, yeah? How do I look at her?” The second the question was out of his mouth, he deeply regretted asking it.
However, instead of getting sarcastic or mischievous, she grew pensive. “Like she’s holding your whole world in her hands, like you would do anything to be with her, like you love her.”
The shotgun blast was beginning to sound merciful. He let his gaze fall to the dish water that was getting greasy instead of soapy.
“I’m right,” Sage said softly. “Aren’t I? You’re in love with Jaycee.”
“I’m going to have to switch out this water,” he said, reaching for the plug. He pulled his sleeve up to his face and rubbed it there, sensing moisture there. No way was he going to ask what was causing it to be there.
Sage continued to dry the pans, and remarkably there were now more on her side than on his. “So why don’t you ask her out?”
His heart was really starting to hurt, and the shake of his head did nothing to stop the pain. “She’s not…” He shrugged and washed the last of the old water down the drain before starting the faucet and filling the sink with new hot water. “It’s not… She’s not into me like that.” This shrug was only mildly easier. “I’ve accepted it.”
Now Sage had grown completely quiet as she continued drying, and Luke wanted to ask what she wasn’t saying. “Well, for what it’s worth, I think she’s missing something… someone pretty cool.”
It was the first chance he’d had to laugh, and Luke took it. “Cool? Me? I’m here washing dishes on a Saturday afternoon.”
She tilted her head and looked up at him. “And that’s a bad thing?”
“Well, it’s not cool, that’s for sure.”
A second and she half-nodded. “Maybe not to everyone.”