Secrets (13 page)

Sarah went still. Had Scott ever acknowledged her like this? Had he ever complimented her? Not so blatantly. And the rush it swept through her was nearly embarrassing. His opinion mattered way too much too her. She was glad he had no clue what she was thinking and feeling.

She exhaled slowly. “It’s not so much what you need to say, it’s what you should keep her mother from saying.”

“We’re not discussing Vanessa.”

“Sorry. Easy habit. But you do it right with her. You let her talk, you encourage her opinions, validate what and who she is. Don’t doubt that just because she’s pregnant. She told me you acted like a father to her. That’s what you should concentrate on. Not your fears.”

“She said that?”

“Yes. Your opinion matters. You should tell her what you think she should do. She needs your guidance right now.”

Scott let out a deep breath. “What if I’m wrong? I can’t take that responsibility.”

“Sometimes you must.”

They fell silent. Finally she whispered, “Thank you.”

“For what? Sleeping with you?”

“No. For taking me seriously today. For making me take what is happening seriously. You could have written me off as a hysterical female. But you didn’t.”

“When have you ever been a hysterical female? But you’re welcome.”

“Did we just have a conversation without an insult or fight to be found?”

“Yeah. I guess so. Let’s not make it a habit.”

“Why not?”

“Because that would make us friends.”

“I thought that’s what you were being to me today.”

“Friends. Yeah. My dream, being friends with Sarah Langston. I have told you before you’re hard on a guy’s ego. First the pillows, now I’m your friend.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

He sighed and turned over, away from her. “Nothing, I guess. It’s just not something I usually am with women.”

Sarah wondered what that meant. Should she be insulted that he didn’t try any kinds of moves on her, as he seemed to with every other female? Or did it mean something more? Something better?

****

The morning brought Sarah awake as sunshine angled in through the window and landed over the green bedspread. She looked over to an empty bed, beyond glad Scott wasn’t there. They could only be civil and intimate under the cover of darkness. What would she have said this morning to him with her hair all slept on, make-up gone, and sleep still fogging her brain?

She got up and brushed her hair, and put on some make-up. She opened the door a crack. Nothing. There was no sign of anyone. She felt like a kid on a sleep over at a new friend’s house, uncomfortable and unsure of the household routine.

She came to a stop when she found Vanessa in the kitchen, looking out the window, a newspaper and coffee cup before her. Who knew Vanessa read the newspaper? She wouldn’t have guessed that. Or that she could look so serious, so contemplative. Vanessa sneered, once she noticed Sarah.

“I suppose you want coffee. Cups are in the cabinet by the fridge.”

Sarah was surprised Vanessa would offer her anything. “Uh, sorry, I don’t drink coffee.”

Vanessa snorted. “Let me guess, tea?”

Sarah hesitated. Was there something wrong with tea? Didn’t half the world drink tea? “Yes. Do you mind if I heat some water?”

“Whatever.” Vanessa picked up her paper again.

Sarah waited in excruciating silence for the water to boil.
Note to self, don’t pick up a stalker and spend the night with a woman who hates you.

Sarah glanced out the kitchen window to see what Vanessa had been gazing at when she’d walked in. Scott was in the driveway, a red, classic muscle car was parked there. Scott was inside it doing something. Then he was out of it and walking into the garage. Was he restoring the car?

Vanessa suddenly slammed her paper down.

“You know you’re not special. Even though I’m sure you think you are.”

“What are you talking about? Why are you so hostile toward me? You’ve had like one conversation with me.”

“Because you’re the type who thinks they’re owed something for just walking into a room. Who’s had everything handed to them, and when you snap your fingers, you think everyone should fall into line. And now, you’re what? Playing around with Scotty because he’s some kind of rush for someone like you, I’d imagine. Kind of a real man, instead of the pencil pushers I’d imagine you usually draw into your web.”

Sarah shook her head as she opened a tea bag and set it into the cup. “Not one word of that is true. You just can’t stand for Scott to have anything outside of you. You can’t let him have even a friend who isn’t revolved around you. You drag him into everything that’s dysfunctional in your life and then tell him if he cares about your daughter, he’ll take care of you too. You use Angie against him, because you know it’s Angie he’ll never leave, not you.”

Vanessa sneered. “You leave my daughter out of this.”

Sarah put her hands up as if giving up. “What is this even? I still don’t get it.”

Scott was walking back toward the car with a tool in his hand. Vanessa was watching too. It finally dawned on Sarah what
this
was. “You’re not worried if he’s sleeping with me. You’re worried because he’s not.”

Vanessa’s head snapped around. Her lips curled back in a snarl. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t I?” Sarah said softly.

“You know nothing. He’ll have some little tramp in here, by tomorrow at the latest, each at least five years younger than you, and five times kinkier. Ladies love him.”

“Great. I’m glad for him. Why would I care?”

“Because that’s what bothering you, isn’t it? He hasn’t tried to sleep with you.” Vanessa smiled a sneering, cruel grin.

Sarah dropped her gaze from Vanessa. How could Vanessa have deduced that already? “What’s your damn point?” she asked through clenched teeth.

“I saw how surprised you were by last night’s phone call. You didn’t catch that about Scotty, did you? That other girls, less snobby and stuck up than you, come out of the walls when he walks into a room.”

“So what? Good for him. Why would you think I care?”

“Oh, because you do care, don’t you?”

“You know, if you thought about me less, and quit trying to get a man to be in love with you, when he’s not, maybe you could spend some much needed attention on your pregnant daughter.”

Vanessa suddenly stood sending her chair back and crashing into the wall behind her. “Get this straight, Sarah Langston, Scott and me are none of your damn business.”

Sarah tightened her lips. “Ditto that, Vanessa.”

“I’m late for work. And besides don’t you have overpriced clothes to sell?”

“You work?”

“Oh, yeah, funny. I work two jobs. I waitress on the weekends, so while you’re criticizing me not being able to sit around and eat bonbons all day with my daughter, I am out earning money for her food.”

Sarah regarded Vanessa as she stood up. Vanessa had on a waitress uniform for a local diner. And it made her feel slightly bad about some of her comments to Vanessa.

“What? You didn’t know some of us working class people, actually work?”

“I work too.”

“Right the snoot shop. Why aren’t you there?”

“My best friend is getting married. I closed the shop for today, we’re getting ready there.”

“Oh, isn’t that sweet. Kelly Reeves, right? The bride. Yeah, can’t wait to see her dress.”

“See her dress?”

“Sure, I’m Scott’s date. He’s friends with Luke and John.”

“You’re his date?”

“Did you go dumb since yesterday? You heard me. I’m Scott’s date. See you there.” Vanessa gave a wave and snide smile as she left.

Sarah glared after Vanessa as she left the kitchen. Then she glared out at Scott moving around the driveway, as he stopped and talked to Vanessa, glanced toward the house, and back at Vanessa.

****

Sarah poured out the rest of her tea before opening the kitchen door. She stopped beside his fixer upper car. It was a glorious day, thank the heavens above. It was promising to be clear skies and warm, something Kelly should be on her knees about this morning seeing as how today’s wedding ceremony was outside.

Scott stood up from the side of the car, as she came closer. She bent down and started petting Cookie who came bounding over. The sunlight hit Scott’s hair, which for one of the first times she saw without a hat. Last night he’d had it on until he got into bed. She had almost asked if the baseball hats were glued on his head. Maybe he had premature balding to cover up.

But now, as the sunlight hit his hair she saw it in its full glory. Because it was thick and full and beautiful. Really, it was way too beautiful to belong on a guy’s head, especially a guy like Scott, who could care less about it. His hair was straight and shiny, the sun making the luxurious colors of red and blonde shine in a color Sarah was jealous of.

She kneeled near Cookie, staring up at Scott with her mouth hanging open. He unfolded his long body and came around the car as morning sun bounced off his hair, a smile on his face, and suddenly she wasn’t just intrigued by him, but captivated by him. Who could be more attractive than him? She was suddenly struck almost mute in his presence. It felt like it was the first time she was seeing Scott. She swallowed because suddenly nothing he did seemed casual, and her every reaction to him mattered.

“Morning,” he said casually, totally oblivious to her sudden realization that he was the most handsome man she’d ever met.

“Good morning.” She dropped her gaze to Cookie’s blonde locks.

“You two survive each other?”

“Who?”

“Vanessa and you.”

“What did
she
tell you?” Her gaze flashed up. “You can’t believe anything she ever says about me. She has it out for me, and will say or do anything to make sure you think so too.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Vanessa. Just promise me you won’t believe anything she says without asking me first.”

“You want me to promise you I won’t listen to Vanessa’s gossip?”

“Yes. Yes, I do.”

He leaned his butt back onto the hood of his car. “You two have blown your little feud way out of proportion. We’re not in high school anymore, if you two haven’t noticed.”

Sarah shook her head. “No, we haven’t noticed. So, do you promise?”

“Do I have to?”

“Yes,” she said adamantly, then added in a sweeter tone, “Please.”

“This actually matters?”

She nodded instantly. “Yes. Deeply.”

“Well, since it seems so life and death, I promise.”

“What did she say to you this morning?”

“She was off to work, would be back at two to get ready for the wedding, and that you like tea. Which was said with a tone I’ll give you that.”

“That’s it? That’s all she said?”

“Was there something more she should have said?”

“I thought she would have been ruder. And so what if I drink tea instead of coffee? It doesn’t make me a snob or anything.”

“Okay, noted,” he said, the smile on his face told her his amusement with her. He turned his head and cocked an eyebrow. “What exactly went on in there?”

“Nothing.”

He waited, raising his eyebrows. “Yeah, I can see it was nothing.”

Sarah felt excruciatingly uncomfortable with his gaze on her. Why had something seemed to have shifted by glimpsing Scott in his own home? Going about his own routine, standing there like a mechanic god in the morning sunlight. What was going on with her? She was suddenly nervous to make eye contact, or even look up at him.

“You okay?” he asked.

“What? Sure. Why would you ask?”

“You seem a little more high strung than usual.”

“No. No, I’m not,” she said, and then frowned. “Do you think I’m usually high strung?”

His lips slid into a smile. “Yes, that’s one word to describe you.”

“What does that mean?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. You’re focused, serious. Very serious most times. You like to work, don’t you? Be busy? You said yourself you don’t go out much. That makes you intense.”

“Great,” she mumbled. The guy she was suddenly all giddy about found her serious and intense. Wasn’t that just dandy. She petted Cookie harder.

“So what are you doing out here?” she asked, looking at the car behind him, not at Scott in his jeans. Jeans that had grease stains, and worn spots on the knees and thighs. Jeans that suddenly were much more attractive than any overdone suit.

“Restoring the car. Hobby of mine.”

“What kind of car is it? What do you do to it?”

“Everything. It was just a rusty frame when I bought it. I replace and fix everything. Then I usually sell it for a good profit. It takes forever and lots of time. This one here is a ’68 Camaro. Which I would guess means nothing to you.”

“Not really. But how do you know what to do?”

“My dad was always tinkering. I picked up most everything from him, and researching whatever model and year of car I’m working on.”

“That’s kind of amazing.”

“Not really. Just one piece at a time.”

“You do this in your spare time?”

“Among things.”

“What things?”

“Basketball. Soccer. Fishing. Running. Women. Somewhere I fit it all in.” He smiled and had the nerve to wink at her. She bristled and rose to her feet.

“Nice. You do realize I’m a woman, don’t you? I really don’t want to know that you find us a hobby.”

“Not women like you.”

“No, of course not, I know how to walk and talk at the same time. Why would you want anything to do with the likes of a woman like me?”

“You said it, not me.”

“And the basketball, fishing, soccer, running, building cars, you actually do all that?”

“Yes, faithfully.”

“That’s a lot of hobbies.”

“I don’t like to sit around. I’d rather be doing something. And work is just that for me.”

“I don’t have any hobbies. What’s it like?”

“Gives me something to look forward to. Think about. You don’t do anything but work?”

She shrugged. She’d never really thought about it. It made her feel kind of lame. “I like my job.”

He shrugged. “I just do my job.”