Finding Home (22 page)

“Mind? You brought me food and wine. Why would I mind?”

Natalie laughed as she took a seat. “If you’d called me, I could have brought dessert.”

“I did think about that,” Sarah said, reaching for the bottle.

“But I sort of wanted to surprise you.”

“You did?” Natalie cocked her head, pleased at the idea.

“Why?”

Sarah turned to regard her with those eyes. “I’m not really sure.” They both laughed, then Sarah’s face got a little more serious as she continued, “I guess I just felt like being out in this beautiful weather, and you and Bentley were the Þ rst ones to come to mind for company.”

Natalie felt oddly touched by the remark. “Well, I’m glad

• 180 •

FINDING HOME

you did. This is great already.” She snagged a grape from one of the bowls and popped it into her mouth.

Sarah took lids off the other bowls to reveal green olives stuffed with gorgonzola, small cubes of cheddar cheese, and what looked to be homemade salsa. “
Mangia,
” she said with a grin.

Natalie narrowed her eyes playfully. “Have you been hanging around Mrs. V. and I don’t know about it?”

“Believe me, that’s all the Italian I know besides
linguini,
lasagna, fetuccini
, and
cappuccino
.”

“You don’t really need to know much more than that. Trust me.” She dunked a chip into the salsa and her eyes widened as the ß avors of tomato, onion, and cilantro exploded on her tongue.

“Oh, wow. Did you make this?”

Sarah nodded almost shyly. “My Þ rst attempt.”

“It rocks. Seriously, it’s delicious. I thought you didn’t have the time to cook.”

Lifting one shoulder, Sarah responded as she poured wine into two clear plastic cups. “It’s Saturday.” She pulled a rawhide chew stick from the basket and handed it to Bentley with a ß ourish. The dog took it and settled down onto the blanket, gnawing happily as Sarah clipped his leash back onto his collar, obviously hoping Natalie didn’t notice.

Natalie studied her for several long seconds, narrowing her eyes as she did so. Sarah looked fabulous—a fact that had already been immediately established in Natalie’s mind—but her face showed something else, something more subtle. Worry?

Concern? She was trying valiantly to hide it, but something was up. Natalie just didn’t know Sarah well enough to put a Þ nger on it.

As if feeling the scrutiny, Sarah looked at her. “What?”

“What’s up with you?” Natalie asked.

“What do you mean?” Sarah looked away as she inquired, telling Natalie she was very aware of the fact that something
was
up.

• 181 •

GEORGIA BEERS

“You seem…” Natalie struggled for the right word.

“Pensive.”

“Pensive, huh?”

Natalie nodded, dunking another chip.

“Well…” Sarah stared off into the clouds as if trying to decide how detailed to get. “I guess I’ve got some stuff on my mind today.”

“Anything you want to talk about? I can certainly listen carefully and nod thoughtfully as I sit here and stuff my face with this sinfully good salsa.”

Sarah rewarded her with a chuckle. “I’ll let you know.”

“I’ll be right here.”

“Okay.”

They spent over an hour chatting about other things, eating, sipping wine, and just enjoying the day. Sarah told Natalie about watching
Red Eye
, which Natalie had seen and loved. Natalie recommended the Ann Patchett novel she’d just read, trying to tell Sarah all about it without giving away any plot details—not an easy feat, but she managed. They ran Bentley around the Þ eld with a new Frisbee Sarah had purchased until his tongue lolled out sideways and he collapsed onto the cool grass near the blanket in a panting pile of fur.

Maybe it was the wine. Natalie wasn’t sure. Maybe it loosened things up for Sarah, made her feel safer or more courageous or less uptight. Natalie wasn’t sure of that either. But as she poured the last of it evenly into their cups, Sarah said simply, “My company has offered me a permanent position in New Zealand.”

Sarah was so nonchalant about it, so matter-of-fact, as if she’d just said, “I’ve decided to paint my kitchen blue.” Natalie stared at her.

“I know,” Sarah said, then took a sip of her wine. Pointing at Natalie, she added, “I think that’s exactly the face I made.”

“Permanent? As in, you’d move there and not come back?”

“That’s the general idea, yeah. I mean, of course I’d come

• 182 •

FINDING HOME

back. I have family here. But for all intents and purposes, I’d live there.”

“Halfway around the world.”

“Yeah.”

“Jesus.”

“Yeah. It’s a huge deal for me, an enormous jump in position and salary. It’s quite a promotion.”

“Wow. That’s…that’s great.”

“And if I do go, I’d want…” She stopped and cleared her throat. “I’d want you to take Bentley for me.”

“What?” Natalie’s eyes widened. “Sarah, no.”

“Listen to me. I won’t put him on an airplane. I just won’t.

It’s too long a trip and there are too many awful things that could happen to him, and I think he’d have to be quarantined for months before I could take him home.” She shook her head. “No, I’d want him to stay with you.” At Natalie’s next attempt at a protest, Sarah stopped her with an upheld hand. “Don’t argue with me.”

Natalie fell silent, absorbing the repercussions of what Sarah had just laid out. “Have you made a decision?” she asked after several minutes. Her voice felt small, even to her, and she had trouble placing what she was feeling.

Sarah sighed deeply. “No, I haven’t been able to. It’s been four days and I’m still unsure. I haven’t even talked to my family about it.” She looked into Natalie’s eyes as if trying to tell her something telepathically. “You’re the Þ rst one I’ve mentioned it to.”

“I am?” Natalie didn’t even attempt to hide her surprise.

Sarah nodded and Þ nished off her wine, then looked at her cup as if confused over how it had become empty so quickly.

“What do you think I should do?”

Natalie ß inched as if Sarah had slapped her. “What do
I
think you should do? Sarah, I can’t answer that for you.”

Sarah gestured with her open palms up. “Okay. Fine. What would
you
do if you were me?”

• 183 •

GEORGIA BEERS

“Yeah, because that’s a totally different question,” Natalie responded with an eye roll.

Sarah leaned close, grasping Natalie’s forearm and gripping it tightly. “Natalie. Please. I need…something. Anything to help me make this decision. I’m so confused and that’s just
not
like me. At all.” She stared into Natalie’s eyes, again as if she was trying to tell her something, and their faces were so close that all Natalie had to do was tilt forward slightly and they’d be kissing.

That
thought made her more nervous than anything else going on at the moment, mostly because she could picture it happening with no trouble whatsoever and it sent a pleasantly shivering tingle through her body. “Just…tell me what you think. Please?”

Natalie swallowed and wrenched her eyes from Sarah’s to study the cup in her hand. Inside her, there was a battle raging, one between what she wanted to say and what she knew she should say. Finally opting for the latter, she closed her eyes as she spoke softly. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned from the past few years, from Andrea’s illness, it’s that life is short. And if this is something that you’d regret not doing…you should do it. The last thing you want is to be looking back ten years from now or twenty years from now or even thirty years from now and thinking, ‘What if I’d just taken that job in New Zealand?’ You never want to have to deal with those words: ‘what if.’ I think they’re two of the most painful words in the English language.”

She shrugged, signaling the end of her speech.

Sarah nodded thoughtfully. “Okay.” She seemed almost disappointed…or was that just Natalie’s imagination? “I see your point. That’s good advice.”

Natalie set her cup down, her appetite for food and drink suddenly gone. “For what it’s worth.”

“No, no, it’s worth a lot. I…I appreciate it. Thank you for being honest.”

They sat quietly, each seemingly lost in her own internal thoughts. Sarah went from desperately pleading to almost silent and—again—pensive. Natalie wasn’t sure what to do with that,

• 184 •

FINDING HOME

ask more questions or let her be. She felt such a sudden and profound sense of sadness and she couldn’t—or more accurately, didn’t want to—explore why. Following Sarah’s lead, she began to help her clear up the picnic.

They worked in silence for several moments, packing everything back into the basket. Natalie picked up the blanket and shook the grass off while Sarah grabbed the basket and Bentley’s leash.

“Here,” Natalie said, taking the basket from Sarah’s hand.

“You guys go on ahead. He’s probably got to pee anyway.” She gestured at Bentley with her chin. “I’ll carry this and the blanket and meet you at your car.”

With a nod, Sarah and Bentley headed off toward the little patch of woods.

Natalie folded the blanket into a neat square, tucked it under her arm, and stood there, unmoving, feeling like she’d been punched in the stomach. She knew why it affected her so.

She wasn’t an idiot and she was more in touch and aware of her own inner workings than most people she knew. The answer was simple: she didn’t want Sarah to go. Over the past couple of months, she’d become a close, valuable friend and… Natalie couldn’t help but wonder if they might possibly have something more.

“Which is ridiculous,” she said aloud. “She’s not my type.”

Flashing back to a mental image of Karen, all classy and neatly put together, she thought,
and I’m certainly not hers, either
.

Though it was becoming quite clear that whether or not Sarah was her type didn’t change the attraction to her. It also didn’t change the sound of that tiny, distantly annoying voice in the back of her mind that uttered those two words Natalie had just Þ nished warning Sarah away from: “what if?”

Expelling a loud breath of frustration, she picked up the basket and headed toward the woods, shaking her head in consternation, hoping to jiggle these thoughts away. She had just stepped into the trees when she heard a man’s loud shout, followed by a

• 185 •

GEORGIA BEERS

surprised curse and rapid, vicious barking and growling, which was answered by a higher-pitched growling bark.

“Bentley,” Natalie whispered, adrenaline ß ooding her system as she bolted through the woods. Bursting out the other side, she barely had time to register anything but a generalized, overall, frightening picture that was trimmed in liquid red. Bentley was in Sarah’s right arm as she held him as high up off the ground as she could with one hand while fending off what looked to be some kind of Chow mix that stood as high as her knees and jumped at the Aussie, snapping and snarling. Sarah was using her left arm and left leg to defend Bentley from his attacker, but the Chow mix was determined, and Sarah’s white sleeve was already stained an alarming shade of crimson. Natalie dropped everything and sprinted toward them faster than she thought possible.

The man who’d shouted—Natalie assumed he was the attacking dog’s owner—raced up to them and reached Sarah at the same time Natalie did. “Oh, my God,” he said, grabbing the growling Chow mix and pulling it away by its collar. “
No
, King.

Down.”

“
What the hell’s the matter with you
?” Natalie unloaded on him in a blistering rage, yelling loudly as she put herself protectively between Sarah and the other dog, backing into them until she could feel them against her, hear Bentley’s panting—or was that Sarah? “Jesus Christ, why the hell do you let a dog like that run loose?” Only then did she notice the broken leash in the man’s hand.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, breathing heavily from his run. “I’m
so
sorry.” He tied the leash around his dog’s collar, yanking savagely to tighten the knot. “I didn’t realize he’d chewed through part of the lead. It just snapped as we were walking. God, I’m sorry.” The dog was suddenly docile as a lamb, as if he’d just strolled up rather than made an attempt to rip another dog apart.

Knowing she shouldn’t tear the man a new asshole but feeling the desire to continue to do just that, Natalie turned away from him to look up at Sarah. Her face was white as a sheet, her

• 186 •

FINDING HOME

lips dry, her eyes blinking rapidly. “Okay,” Natalie whispered, noting the tremor that seemed to shudder through Sarah’s body.

“It’s okay now.” It was impossible to see exactly what kind of damage had been done. Sarah’s leg seemed okay. The jeans had been a fortunate fashion choice today. Her arm, though… Natalie knew the fact that Sarah’s shirt was white was possibly making it look worse than it was, but there seemed to be an awful lot of blood. She fought back a panicked queasiness.
Stay calm. She
needs you to stay calm. She’s in shock right now and you need to
take control. Just do it. Just take care of her.
Swallowing down the lump of anxiety in her throat, she turned to face the man and asked quietly, “Do you have a cell phone?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“Would you call 911?” She gestured at his dog, who was a bit too close for Natalie’s comfort, and Bentley’s, too, judging from the low-pitched warning growl coming from Sarah’s arms.

“And move him back. Please.”

Swiping at his forehead, which was beaded with sweat, he tugged the dog several feet away and pulled his phone out of his pocket.

Turning back to Sarah, Natalie kept her voice calm. She focused on her face, on the blue of her eyes, rather than the blood all over her arm and the front of her shirt. “Hey,” she said, forcing a smile onto her lips. “How we doing?” She took Bentley from her and set him on the ground, checking him quickly, but Þ nding no injuries. She tied the end of his leash to her own belt loop, told him to stay, and then looked up at Sarah’s face, which was still abnormally pale. She stroked Sarah’s cheek, and brushed her hair behind her ear as she said her name. “You okay?”