The Choice (34 page)

“Those are nice ones,” the man said. “We just got them in.”

“I've bought plants here before and have always been satisfied,” Sandy replied.

“You look familiar. I'm Danny Barrett.”

Sandy started to introduce herself but stopped. She smiled instead.

“Nice to meet you,” Sandy said. “I need to go to Saxony Lane from here. Can you help me?”

“Sure. Let me ring these up.”

Sandy paid in cash. Barrett tore a narrow sheet of paper from a large roll beside the cash register and took a pen from behind his left ear. He sketched a quick map. The route involved several turns.

“Who are you going to see?” he asked. “I may be able to tell you exactly where to go.”

Barrett looked directly into Sandy's eyes. She couldn't think of a way to gracefully avoid the question.

“Jeremy Lane,” she said as fast as she could.

“The lawyer.” Barrett nodded. “We delivered a bunch of stuff to him earlier this year.”

Barrett marked a spot on the road with a big
X
.

“He lives about here in a brick house with white shutters. It's landscaped real nice. His wife likes to work in the yard.”

He handed Sandy the paper.

“Thanks,” she said, turning away.

“Don't forget your hollies,” Barrett said. “Once you pay for something, it's yours. Do you need help carrying them to your car?”

“No, thank you.”

Sandy cradled the pots in her arms and left the building. She put the bushes in the back of the truck.

“Do you want me to tie those in so they don't roll around?” a voice said.

Sandy jumped. It was Barrett. He'd followed her out of the store.

“Uh, that would be nice,” she said.

Barrett left and returned a minute later with a piece of twine that he wrapped around the pots and tied off to the truck bed.

“That should hold them,” he said.

Sandy drove slowly out of the lot. She fought the notion that Danny Barrett had gone inside and phoned Jeremy to let him know a woman in a white pickup truck was on her way to his house.

With each turn Sandy's heart began beating faster. When she saw the sign for Saxony Lane, she paused and took a deep breath. She drove slowly down the street. A boy on a bicycle approached her. The boy was wearing a helmet, and Sandy stared intently at him. Then she remembered that Zach was only five years old and wouldn't be riding a bike alone on the street. The boy on the bike was at least twice Zack's age.

Sandy drove another hundred yards before seeing Jeremy's house. Barrett had been right. It was red brick with white shutters and a beautiful yard of green grass. The garage doors were open, and Sandy could see two vehicles, a silver minivan and Jeremy's white SUV. It was 9:15 a.m., and no one was in sight. She continued past the house. Glancing back, she saw that the backyard was fenced in with a wooden privacy fence. Rising over the top of the fence was a large play set with a crow's nest on top.

Sandy drove on down the road and turned around in a cul-de-sac. When Jeremy's house came into view the second time, she saw the young lawyer standing at the entrance to the garage. He was wearing a black golf shirt and blue jeans. A moment later, a girl wearing a soccer uniform joined him. A small boy also wearing jeans and a white shirt came into view. Chloe and Zach. Sandy pulled to the side of the street beneath a large oak tree. Actually seeing the children, even from a distance, made her heart feel like it was about to explode.

Jeremy and the children disappeared from view, but less than a minute later the silver minivan backed down the driveway. Sandy could see Leanne in the passenger seat. Sandy followed the van, being careful to maintain several car lengths' separation. She also put on sunglasses in case Jeremy looked in the rearview mirror. Jeremy and his family left the neighborhood and headed toward town. The absurdity of what she was doing hit Sandy. Was she turning into a stalker who spent all her free time spying on the Lane family? Wouldn't it be more honest to contact Jeremy, tell him who she was, and respectfully ask if he had an interest in getting to know her? While these thoughts swirled through her head, the minivan turned right into the parking lot of one of Tryon's two elementary schools. Families were milling about. Girls in soccer uniforms were walking in small groups toward a sports field where soccer nets were set up. Sandy slowed down and watched as Jeremy pulled into a parking space. Chloe hopped out of the car. She was wearing high-top blue socks and soccer shoes. Jeremy and Leanne followed carrying portable chairs. Zach ran ahead to the field. Chloe started talking to some other girls.

There was a large playground with swing sets, slides, and monkey bars at the rear of the school. From the playground area, Sandy would be able to watch the soccer game from a safe distance. She parked the truck near the playground. Jeremy and Leanne placed their chairs along the sidelines. Using the telephoto lens on her camera, Sandy snapped a few photos. The girls were warming up on the field. Chloe's team was in front of the goal nearest Sandy, so she had a good view. Warm-ups consisted of the girls kicking balls to one another. After the coaches called the teams together, a referee blew a whistle, and the game began.

Chloe was playing midfielder. Twice she kept the opposing team from kicking the ball into her team's end of the field. Then she intercepted a pass and started running toward the goal. Sandy expected her to pass off to one of the forwards, but Chloe executed a nifty move around a defender, stopped in front of the goalie, and kicked the ball into the net with her left foot. Sandy's mouth dropped open. It was an amazing shot for a ten-year-old. Chloe had frozen the goalie. The opposing team's coach yelled at his goalie and gestured with his hands. Jeremy and Leanne were standing up and cheering. Chloe's coach called her over to the sidelines, gave her a high five, and directed her to a place on the bench.

After the momentary excitement the game was a typical soccer stalemate. Even with young players, it isn't easy to score. When the referee whistled the end of the first half, the score was 1–0. During halftime, Chloe ran over to her parents. Sandy took more pictures. The second half started with Chloe playing striker. The other coach saw the shift and directed one of his players to shadow Chloe at all times. That made it hard for Chloe to get the ball. Several minutes passed before she had a chance. She dribbled toward the goal, then stopped so suddenly that the defender stumbled. Chloe kicked the ball to a teammate who was at the other end of an undefended net. The girl tapped the ball in for a goal.

“Yes!” Sandy exclaimed. “Beautiful assist.”

Sandy wasn't a big soccer fan, but she was enjoying this game immensely. Zach divided his time between sitting on the grass next to his mother and running up and down the sidelines. Sandy saw him say something to Leanne, then he turned and ran in Sandy's direction. Her heart leaped into her throat. He came closer. Sandy couldn't take her eyes off him. The little boy had Brad Donnelly's hair and eyes, but there was someone else's influence in his mouth and the shape of his head. He reached the playground and began swinging on a swing. Sandy was surprised at how high he went as he pumped his sturdy little legs. Sandy reached for her camera and took some wonderful pictures. Jeremy and Leanne were focused on the soccer game. The other team scored a goal after Chloe whiffed on an attempt to kick the ball away from an offensive player, who kicked it over the goalie's head into the net.

Zach stopped swinging and trotted over to the monkey bars. He was barely tall enough to climb up to a row of horizontal bars. He grabbed hold of the top bar and swung out into space. He reached forward with his right hand and grabbed the next bar. The camera clicked rapidly as Sandy took more pictures. Zach released his left hand so it could join his right hand and twisted his body slightly to bridge the gap. Suspended in space, he swung his feet forward. Sandy snapped another photo. Suddenly Zach lost his grip with his right hand and tumbled to the ground, landing on his left shoulder.

“No!” Sandy cried, covering her mouth with her hand.

Zach rolled over and cried out in pain. He grabbed his shoulder with his right hand. His parents were on their feet cheering as Chloe's team tried to keep their opponent from scoring the tying goal. Zach tried to stand up but collapsed, crying, on the ground. Sandy dropped the camera on the seat and desperately looked around. No one was paying attention to the little boy. Sandy reached for the handle of the door to get out but then had another idea. She hit the center of the steering wheel and sounded the truck's horn. Pressing down on it again, she sounded a long blast. Leanne looked in the direction of the playground and grabbed Jeremy by the arm. He began running rapidly toward the playground, with Leanne trailing behind him. Sandy turned on the truck's engine and backed out of the parking space. As she put the truck into gear, she looked in the rearview mirror and saw Jeremy gingerly helping Zach to his feet. Leanne, who still hadn't reached the playground, glanced at the truck, then arrived at the monkey bars where she fell on her knees in front of Zach, who leaned his head against her.

Shaking, Sandy left the parking lot. There was no doubt Zach was hurt, but she couldn't tell how serious it might be. She drove a few blocks from the school and pulled into the empty parking area for a dentist's office. She wondered if she should have jumped out of the truck to help the little boy, but she'd been frozen by indecision. Turning off the truck's engine, she leaned her head against the steering wheel to collect her thoughts and feelings.

By blowing the horn, she'd got Jeremy's and Leanne's attention. That was the best thing to do. If she'd dashed onto the scene, Zach would have been frightened by a stranger running up to him. Sandy lifted her head and saw the silver minivan pass by with its hazard lights flashing. The local hospital wasn't far away. That's where they had to be taking Zach.

Sandy wanted to go to the hospital but knew she shouldn't. Her heart ached for Zach. Her trip to Tryon had been so much more than she could have hoped for until the little boy took his tumble. She exited the parking lot. As she passed the town limits for Tryon, Sandy was praying for Zach.

After unloading the bushes at her house and sweeping out the truck bed, Sandy pulled smoothly into Bob Dortch's car lot and backed the truck into the space where it had been earlier in the day. Bob walked across the pavement toward her.

“After four hours of shifting gears, you're an expert who has to show off what she can do,” he said.

Sandy handed him the keys and smiled.

“It was rough at first, but it came back to me. Thanks for letting me borrow the truck. I bought a couple of bushes at Barrett's.”

“I'm glad that place isn't in Rutland,” Bob said. “Barb never spends less than $200 every time we go over there.”

“Maybe I'll invite her the next time I make a trip.”

“Not in one of my trucks! She'll spend $500 if she has a truck to haul stuff back in.” Bob motioned toward the service department. “Your car is ready. We changed the oil. Everything else checked out fine.”

“Great.”

“Lenny has your keys and invoice for the service.”

Alone in her house, Sandy felt the ache of separation from Jeremy and his family. It was a new sensation, and Sandy wasn't sure how to handle it. After eating a sandwich, she called the hospital in Tryon.

“Is Zach Lane a patient?” she asked the woman who answered the patient information number. “He fell off the monkey bars at the elementary school a couple of hours ago.”

The woman was silent for a moment.

“No,” she replied. “He was treated in the emergency room and sent home.”

“Okay, thanks,” Sandy said with relief.

Knowing that Zach wasn't seriously injured, Sandy was able to enjoy downloading the photographs she'd taken. Some of the pictures were fuzzy due to her distance from the subjects, but she had quite a few that turned out nicely.

The photos of Zach at the playground were the clearest of all. Sandy suspected he was a wide-open little boy who kept his mother on edge. She leaned forward and looked at Jeremy. Even though he was an adult, in Sandy's mind he was still part child. The gap between the infant nursery in Atlanta and the house in Tryon was too broad for Sandy to leap over in forty-eight hours. She printed out several photos. A knock at her kitchen door interrupted her.

“Sorry I didn't call before dropping in,” Jessica said. “But I went by to see Mrs. Jackson, and she wanted me to give you something.”

Mildred Jackson was a woman in her early eighties who'd been the librarian at the middle school Sandy and Jessica attended. The girls had thought she was old then. Jessica handed Sandy a small linen napkin.

“She made this on the little loom she set up in the sunroom off her kitchen.”

Sandy fingered the closely woven fabric.

“It's just like her to take up a new hobby at eighty-two. She said she was going to make something for me the last time I stopped by. Come in for a few minutes.”