Chapter 71
Two weeks had passed since Charles’s departure. After her shift at the nursing home, Sarah stood with her hand against the newspaper photo on the fridge. She missed him so much. Their calls had been sporadic due to Joan’s settling-in period. Her heart clenched. God. She hadn’t expected to pine this much. What she wouldn’t give to hold Charles and talk to him right now. As if responding to her thoughts, the home phone rang.
She bolted for it.
“Is that Sarah?”
She frowned. It wasn’t Charles. But the voice was familiar somehow.
She answered, “Yes, it is.”
“This is Julia . . .”
Ten minutes later and, for the second time in as many months, Sarah lowered the phone with disbelief and excitement shooting through her veins. In the middle of the kitchen, she performed a dance the whirling dervishes would’ve envied.
Without thinking, she grabbed her cell phone and dialed a preset number. A second later, she realized what she was doing. It was Charles’s number. What time was it in Germany?
She was about to end the call when a groggy and panic-stricken voice answered, “Sarah? What’s happened?”
Her stomach quick stepped to her throat, “Charles! It’s so good to hear your voice.”
“Yours too. What’s going on? Are you okay?”
“Aside from missing you terribly, I’m great. How are you?”
“Terrible too.”
Was it selfish that she was delighted by that answer?
“Really?”
“I haven’t been able to sleep. That’s why I’m still awake at this hour.”
“Sorry about that. I dialed out of reflex. What time is it there?”
“Two in the morning.”
“Oooh, sorry.”
“It’s fine. I miss you.”
“I miss you too. I wish you were here so I could see you face when I tell you my news.”
“Yeah? It sounds good.”
“It is. I’ve been offered a publishing contract. Julia just called me.”
“Sarah! I’m so proud of you.”
“Thank you. I could never have achieved this without you.”
He scoffed, “Oh yes you could have.”
She smiled, “Thank you for believing in me.”
“You make it easy.”
She went to bed with a smile that wouldn’t budge an hour later.
***
Later that day, Charles watched his mother in silence as she brushed her hair with her left hand. This was followed by brushing her teeth with a dry toothbrush, again with her left hand.
Joan laughed and put the toothbrush on the dressing table she sat at, “This will take getting used to.”
“What will?”
“The left-handed thing.”
He nodded, “Ah. Yeah.”
The doctors at the facility had explained that his mother was to use her left hand as much as possible because it caused new connections to form in the brain, thereby stopping the progression of dementia.
“Can you test me on my spelling words?”
He took the piece of paper his mother held out to him and read the first word, “Achieve.”
He realized he hadn’t paid attention to her answer when the next thing he heard was his mother’s sigh, followed by, “You know she can be a writer anywhere, right, darling?”
“What does that mean?”
“It means go and bring her back.”
“To Germany?” He couldn’t help the incredulousness that came through.
She gave his hand a pat, “Yes, to Germany.”
“She’ll have to uproot her entire life for me. It’s not fair to ask.”
“It’s not fair to live your lives in misery either. You deserve happiness.”
“So does she. I––”
“Exactly.” He was about to interrupt when his mother stopped him by raising her hand in a stop-talking gesture. “Trust me on this.”
“What will you do if I go?”
“I’ll be fine. There are people here to look after me, and you won’t be gone for more than a couple of days. You are allowed time off.”
He was almost convinced.
“Go on. Surprise her.”
He felt his eyebrow lift, “Don’t tell her I’m coming?”
“No. Hop on the first plane out of here and go straight to her.”
“But––”
“And give this to her.”
Charles glanced down and saw his mother wriggle off his grandmother’s platinum and diamond engagement ring. She held it toward him, beaming. What is she saying? He’d known Sarah for two months. Was that long enough to know if he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her?
“Mom––”
She interrupted him again, “If you’re going to do a grand romantic gesture, you may as well do it right. You love her. She loves you. From what I’ve witnessed, you’re soul mates.”
He paused. Despite being raised by a romance writer, he’d never believed in soul mates.
He shook his head, “I’m not sure if I believe in soul mates.”
His mother sighed. “Does the thought of losing her cause you physical pain?”
“Yes.”
“Is she different from all the other women you’ve known?”
“You know she is.”
“When you look into her eyes, can you see your future alongside hers?”
“Yes.”
“Have you been distracted this whole time because you can’t stop thinking about her?”
“Yes.”
His mother grinned, “I hate to be the one to tell you this, but you believe in soul mates, darling.”
He laughed, kissed her on the cheek, and took the ring. After securing it in his pants pocket, he left, with plans of a grand romantic gesture forming in his mind.