twenty-one

“It wouldn’t dare rain on the Fourth,” Sheena declared. “This is Mom’s first big fund-raising campaign to get Albert elected. Did I tell you he’s running for state legislator?”

They both laughed. Sheena had only told Sara a hundred or so times.

The day dawned fair and clear and stayed that way all morning. By four o’clock, the sun shown down on the backyard, which could not have looked more patriotic. The leaves hadn’t been sprayed blue, but the petunias had done what Skip said they’d do. They had spread and bloomed in red and white profusion, providing a spectacular background for the tables adorned with gold stars on royal blue tablecloths.

Sara jumped in to help with anything needed. The professional party planner, Natasha Coolidge, had been there all day, making reality out of all Vivian’s plans. She supervised the caterers, the decorators, musicians, and the placement of tables and chairs.

How everything Vivian wanted would be on time, Sara hadn’t been able to imagine. However, Natasha pulled it off, and when guests began arriving at five o’clock, Vivian looked as if she’d never had to lift a finger.

Sara hadn’t been surprised earlier in the week when Vivian had handed her a hand-written invitation. All along, the woman had seemed to take for granted that Sara would be there. It seemed natural since Sara had been a part of Paridy family life for about a month now. She lived in their house, ate with them, and felt much like a Paridy daughter and sister.

The guests came in all shapes and sizes. Some dressed in red, white, and blue, while others sported western attire. Some arrived in suits and ties. A couple of women wore semi-formal skirts. A few wore jeans. Several held little flags and waved them. They reminded Sara of guests she had seen at some events she had gone to in college, where people came dressed however they wished. The Paridy guests behaved like any others—some extroverts, others introverts, some loud, others quiet. Some looked like money, others didn’t. Some seemed to know everyone. Others knew no one.

Some walked through the house, went upstairs, downstairs, and out on the deck, where the chairs looked better than a month ago but still featured the dreaded glossy orange. No one seemed to mind.

At one point, Sara found herself standing next to Natasha while they watched Albert talking to a reporter from WLOS-TV, the Asheville station. Sara thought the name “Natasha” fit the party planner. If anyone ever had a calm, cool, collected look, it was she: trim, slim, elegant, and as tall as Albert. Her hair, which had been fastened at the back of her neck all day with a clip, was now pulled back into a chignon. Her prominent nose served to make her exotic features quite striking.

“Now he,” Natasha said to Sara, while observing Albert, “is a man with a brilliant future, if you ask me.”

Sara agreed. But at the moment she thought of Natasha’s abilities. She’d taken over today’s plans with such expertise that Vivian had been left with no worries. Sara could picture this competent woman as the wife of a politician. Natasha knew how to do things—without messing up. In no time at all Natasha had maneuvered Albert and his uncle Evan Marshall, a state senator, into a corner with the television reporter so the reporter could file his report in time for the eleven o’clock news.

The fund-raiser would be announced at six o’clock, along with the latest report on Senator Paridy. The main topic of conversation among the group was about the senator’s health.

By 5:30, the band Natasha had arranged for began to play, and the group gathered out back. Sara recognized the band as one of the most popular in the area. She estimated about two hundred people were attending, and she’d met or recognized about ten of them. The woman with the governor would be his wife. Albert went around introducing the congressman Evan Marshall to everyone: the mayor, a state legislator, business leaders, the director of the retirement center, the president of the Chamber of Commerce, the newspaper editor, and the pastor of First Church in Asheville.

Although everyone was friendly and accepted Sara as a friend of the family, she began to feel like an observer rather than a participant. Sheena had gone off talking to first one, then another, making sure Adam was getting her on film as he went about taping the shindig and making almost everyone feel like a movie star. Albert looked like a first-class politician in his navy pants and white shirt without a tie, with sleeves rolled up to his elbows. She’d seen him hug every woman, compliment her, shake every man’s hand, and keep smiling. If the voting for state offices were held that night, Albert would win by a landslide.

Vivian was a gracious hostess, and no one would suspect she’d had a moment’s concern about the event. Royce and Forrest manned the huge barbecue grills, finally opening the great lids and releasing a spicy, tangy aroma. Guests lined up eagerly to fill their plates.

As Sara stood in line holding a red, white, and blue plastic plate, she asked herself, Why am I here? She filled her plate and looked around at tables that were quickly filling up.

Vivian called her name.

Sara walked over.

“Come sit with us, Sara. You might be some help in this conversation.”

Oh dear. Was the governor’s wife looking for a house cleaner?

Sara took a seat opposite Vivian, who introduced Sara and the others at the table.

“I was just telling Marlana,” Vivian said, “that you have good ideas about projects. Marlana is looking for one.”

Vivian told about Sara’s idea for the bottles of shampoo and conditioner.

“I just drew on personal experience,” Sara said. “An occasional gift like that means a lot to students who have limited finances. But any student would like them. Something like that shows that other people are thinking about them and caring.”

The other women mentioned that they, too, took those little bottles and tucked them away in bags or boxes.

“You really have a great idea here, Sara,” Marlana said. “If you hadn’t thought of it first, I might make that my project. Contact companies and ask them to donate. I could add something else to the packets and make them available to college students who are on work study.”

“I really don’t have it as a project,” Sara said. “It was just an idea. If you want to do that, feel free to go ahead.”

Sara began to eat. She had to fan her mouth, then reached for her water glass.

Vivian laughed. “Sara, it looks like you’ve been initiated with Royce’s hot red pepper sauce.

“I take the mild sauce on mine, thank you,” Marlana said. “Just one taste of the other set my mouth afire.”

“Well, as a dutiful wife,” Vivian said. “I have to eat Royce’s pride-and-joy hot sauce. I just grin and bear it.”

Sara laughed along with them and was included in their conversations. However, her gaze swept over the crowd, and she noticed Albert smiling at Natasha as she talked with him. Sara was struck by how great the two looked together. What a helpmate someone like Natasha, who knew how to be a perfect hostess, would be to Albert in his chosen career. With a talented, suave woman like that around, I donʼt stand a chance with Albert, Sara concluded.

❧

After having manned the grills until all the guests were served, Forrest finally filled his plate and sat down beside his cousin Donald. They discussed Donald’s recent completion of an internship at a nearby hospital and how he had been invited to join a group of pediatricians in Virginia.

“It’s time for me to start thinking about finding the right woman and settling down,” Donald said. “How about you?”

“Thinking is about as far I’ve gone with that lately,” Forrest said. He changed the subject, but the issue remained in the back of his mind. Is Sara for me? He’d wondered about and relished the idea. However, he had to consider that Sara might be for Adam or Albert. Now even Donald.

He’d noticed how well Sara related to his mom, Marlana, and the other women. They’d talked seriously, they’d laughed. He had also noticed how her eyes seemed to follow Albert. He could visualize Sara’s being an asset to Albert in his career. He tried not to think further, but his brain added, Not just to a manʼs career, but what a blessing to have a woman like Sara by oneʼs side for a lifetime.

The band struck up a different refrain, quite loud, causing the guests to look toward the platform. Congressman Evan Marshall held Albert’s left arm high. “Our future state legislator,” he shouted.

The guests began to applaud and broke into, “For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow.” Albert stood smiling, waving his right hand. Then the congressman and Albert led the way into the house. Natasha gestured toward the guests, and they began to rise from their places at the tables.

Sara thought it would be interesting to hear what would take place at the fund-raising part of the shindig. However, she had no money to bid and would feel totally out of place. After the guests had gone inside for the white-elephant auction, where they would bid on objects donated by others, Sara walked to the far end of the yard. As workers cleaned up, taking in food, tables, and chairs, she walked beyond flower beds and patio furniture and ambled beneath trees casting their shadows in the moonlight along a stone wall. The wall seemed so inviting, she sat down on it and gazed up at the starlit canopy of deep gray sky.

Enjoying the solitude after hours spent meeting new people, she was startled to hear a voice say, “You’re not going in?”

She knew the voice belonged to Forrest. He walked around in front of her and sat down beside her. She tried to joke. “I live on a house cleaner’s salary, remember.”

“No one is obligated to make a donation,” he said. “But I know what you mean. My money’s going fast.” He laughed lightly.

“You don’t seem too concerned about that.”

“I’m not,” he said. “The Lord will provide.”

Sara nodded. “I’m sure your mom and dad will too.”

His cowboy hat shaded his eyes, but she noticed the quick uplift of his chin.

“I’m so sorry,” she said. “I’ve put my foot in my mouth again. I’ve got to learn to think before I speak. Please, please forgive me. This is not my business.”

“Why are you so upset, Sara? You’re right. My parents won’t let me starve or live in a cardboard box in an alley, no matter what.”

Sara nodded. “Right.”

“Sara,” he said again. “Look at me.”

She did. But not for long. She lowered her eyes to stare straight ahead at his chest. Unbidden, memories of when he’d held Sheena entered her mind. She’d wondered then how it would feel to be held next to his chest, not as a sister but as the woman he loved. Her cheeks warmed with embarrassment, and she tried desperately to think of something—anything—else.

❧

Forrest’s thoughts churned inside his brain. What did Sara know of him? The family had joked about his being like the prodigal son. In the sense of asking for his inheritance, he was. Did she think him so callous that he was saying if he spent his inheritance, he would then return to his father and get more?

Possibly.

What did she know of him?

He looked at the way the moonlight filtered down on her silky hair. How it touched her cheeks and her sweet soft lips. He wanted to see the look in her brown eyes turn warm. He wanted her heart to warm toward him.

“Forgive me, Sara?”

“Forgive you? For what?”

“For assuming you would know my heart, regardless of what I reveal and what I keep secret.”

She shrugged a shoulder. “You don’t owe me anything. You don’t have to tell me—”

He interrupted. “I want to. Would you like to know the real Forrest Paridy?”

His voice, as soft as a whisper in the cool mountain air, sent a shiver up her arms, and she grasped them, as if that would dispense with the prickles. Why would she want to know him? What purpose would that serve? Would he admit his failures and ask her to forgive him? If he did, and if she did, what then?

And why did a deer stand in the middle of the road and gaze at the car lights, when it was safer to run away and hide in the woods?

She should turn and run. But he’d asked a question. Did she want to know him?

As usual, her brain had little control over her tongue.

“Yes,” she said.